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"BRIARWOOD"
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
R.S.V.
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
literary enhancement
by
Les Martin
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BOOK ONE
Chapter Eight
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"...crazy business this,
this life we're livin'.
Can't complain about the time we're given.
With so little to be sure of in this world,
there was you."
Stephen Sondheim,
"Anyone Can Whistle"
Act III (1964}
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Less than twenty minutes elapsed between the phone call telling of Kendall's accident and Cliff and Roger arriving at the hospital. The waiting room outside the ER was all but empty which was probably normal for a Tuesday, considering the lateness of the hour and the size of Briarwood. Off in the corner by a shaded table lamp sat Kitty Marsden, breaking the law by smoking a cigarette and using the dirt in a potted philodendron as an ashtray. The three-way bulb in the lamp was on the lowest setting, making it difficult to see the expression on her face or to focus in on her mood. She and Cliff had parted on friendly terms after they had reached an 'agreement' on Troy...and since he was her priest and shepherd of the fold at St. Genesius, it was his duty to comfort her. Cliff walked over to her quietly, leaving Roger by the nurses' station.
"Kitty?" he spoke to her quietly.
She looked up to see who had disturbed her world. At first she simply stared, her face seemingly lacking expression of any kind, but her eyes suddenly blazed, then narrowed in rage before she bellowed, "YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! I BLAME YOU FOR EVERYTHING THAT'S HAPPENED TO KENDALL!" she shouted over and over.
Thank God there was no one else in the room to hear her vocal attack. Roger started to join Cliff, but stopped and retreated, not wanting to complicate matters by making her think she was being outnumbered or 'ganged up on'.
"Kitty! Kitty! Kitty! PLEASE! Try to control yourself and tell me how Kendall is!" Cliff said, trying to restrain her flailing elbows.
"HE'S DYING! THAT'S HOW HE IS! HE'S DYING, THANKS TO YOU!"
"Go on, blame whatever you like on me...Shout it out and get it out of your system!" he said, once again trying to control her.
Her last yell diminished into a wail, ending in a whimper as she sank into the orange vinyl chair next to the corner table. Her make-up was already streaked from the tears she apparently had shed earlier. It was interesting to note that no matter how bad the news or what time it came, Kitty would take time to dress for the occasion. She had donned an expensive black sheath crepe dress, black hose, 5" high heels, and matching diamond necklace, bracelet, and earrings. The Princess Nyla cosmetics had the face looking perfect when she left her manor to come to the emergency room. Now her face was a mess! She didn't care. If she didn't look her best, it must be the fault of the make-up manufacturer. She would just switch brands, that's all!
When her sobbing began to subside, Cliff stooped down to face her.
"Kitty, if you can calm down long enough, could you tell me what happened?"
"It was that goddamned bicycle!! That's what it was! God as my judge, I'm going to sue that bicycle shop tomorrow! And that TRUCK!! That goddamned truck and that goddamned truck driver who wasn't watching where he was going!! I'll see to it that he never drives a truck again as long as he lives...and I'll make sure that the company he works for goes out of business...immediately!!" Again, her volume level elevated.
"Where was Kendall when it happened?" Cliff asked calmly.
"At the corner of Wilder and Willow according to the police. Kendall pulled onto the main thoroughfare there on his bicycle, and this lunatic didn't slam on his brakes fast enough to avoid hitting Kendall. I don't know how fast the truck was traveling but it must have been flying, looking at the broken pieces of the bicycle...that BICYCLE...that FUCKING GODDAMNED BICYCLE!!! You know he bought it without my knowledge, don't you?" She yelled at Cliff.
"No, Kitty, I didn't. As a matter of fact, I didn't even know he owned a bicycle until earlier this evening." Cliff said.
"He bought it to ride to your idiotic acolyte rehearsal and said he wanted to prove to you that he could be like one of the other boys. So he had Lars, our chauffeur, drive him over to Barlowe County to a bike shop there. Kendall bought it with his own money. As far as I know, he had never ridden a bicycle before. I blame you for talking him into that acolyte business. He didn't need that! He had plenty of other things in his life without stooping to that!"
"But don't you see, Kitty," Cliff tried again. "Kendall was doing what HE wanted to do for a change. I hate to say this to you, Kitty, but Kendall is lonely and wants the chance to be around boys his own age. He needs acceptance by his peers. He wants to do the same type thing other boys his age do. That's why he wanted to become an acolyte. There is no age or class distinction when it comes to wanting to serve the Lord."
"Oh, he didn't stop at just wanting to serve the Lord as an acolyte, he wants to be like you and become a priest!"
"What's wrong with that?" Cliff asked, trying not to become defensive.
"Becoming a priest is beneath his station in society!"
"Kitty, please don't take offense, but that's YOUR place in society, not Kendall's. He wants to be an ordinary boy who does ordinary things with other boys his age."
Seeing that things had quieted a bit between Kitty and Cliff, Roger thought it was safe to come over and join them.
"Mrs. Marsden, I was so sorry to hear about Kendall's accident." Roger said in a low tone.
"Who are you?" she snapped.
"Kitty, this is my best friend, Roger."
"How do you do?" Roger offered.
"Not so well, thank you." she replied coldly. She extracted an embroidered handkerchief from her purse to dab at her eyes.
"Is there any further word on Kendall's condition at the nurses' station?" Cliff asked Roger.
Roger glanced at Kitty before answering privately, "I'm not sure if the doctors and nurses were talking about Kendall, but I heard one of them ask if anyone had called a minister".
"Please excuse me for a moment, Kitty...Roger just told me I had a call at the nurses' desk."
Cliff walked to the station at the fastest pace possible without arousing her suspicions.
"Excuse me," Cliff asked the nurse in almost a whisper. "but my friend said a few minutes ago one of you was asking about a minister...did this concern the boy on the bicycle?"
"Your name wouldn't be 'Father Cliff', would it?"
"Why, yes." Cliff answered.
"The boy in the bed over there was asking for you...his name is Kendall."
"Can I go in to see him?"
"Yes, go right on in. You'd better hurry, though! Be sure to put on a gown and mask before you enter."
Cliff grabbed the nearest green gown and mask he could find in the adjacent scrub room and pushed on the right side of the swinging doors, running into a doctor or an intern.
"Hello, I'm Father Cliff and I think that your patient has been asking for me."
"He has, Father." the doctor answered.
"How is he? Is he conscious?"
"For the moment, yes, but if there's any kind of prayer or final rite that you offer, you'd better begin now. The kid won't last an hour."
A chill went through Cliff's body and he stopped dead in his tracks. In his years at seminary, he had never performed an Extreme Unction or last rites ceremony. DAMN! He didn't have his missal in his pocket nor was he sure if he remembered the words of that litany. In these dire circumstances, Cliff didn't think anyone, including God, would know the difference if he were to read the 'Yellow Pages' instead.
He managed to walk over to the raised examining table where they had been trying to do their medical wonders on Kendall. Cliff saw him trying to focus as he approached the young lad. Kendall even managed to smile in spite of the tubes in his nose and mouth. He had patches and wires leading from his body to several beeping and flashing monitors and an IV in each arm...one pumping blood and the other dripping some kind of clear fluid...either saline or some kind of sedative or painkiller or a combination of all three.
When Cliff got to his side. Kendall barely raised his hand, wanting Cliff to place it in his. Cliff held it and felt a faint squeeze as Kendall's fingers tried to respond to Cliff's. Kendall's eyes were not fixed but they had a glassy film covering his baby blues. His floppy blonde hair was ruffled and tangled from dried blood, gravel, dirt, road tar, and bits of concrete. The right side of his face was skinned, bruised, and swollen. His torso was covered with bloody sheets where the doctors had unsuccessfully attempted some life-saving procedure. His breathing was labored, as indicated by his short gasps and pants. But in spite of all these things, he somehow looked complacent and easy.
Staring at Cliff through all the medical apparatus, Kendall managed to utter, "Hi, Father Cliff."
"Hi, big guy," Cliff replied with a lump in his throat that felt about the size of a ceremonial orb.
"I'm glad you came."
"I told you I would be here whenever you needed me."
"I kinda messed up everything, didn't I?"
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"I'm not sure. I left your house riding my bicycle and I got as far as Willow Street and I decided to turn right on Wilder Street and there was this truck coming...I guess the truck driver didn't see me 'cause I didn't see him, either, until he was about 10 feet away from me. Anyway, it wasn't his fault... I should've looked both ways...but I didn't. It hurt so bad when the truck hit me."
"Do you hurt now?" Cliff asked.
"Just a little. It hurts to breathe, though. It's like I can't get enough air in my lungs to raise my chest up."
"Well, try not to talk...don't waste your energy."
"Can you say a prayer for me?"
"Sure."
"I think you need to say that final one, if you know what I mean..."
As Cliff inhaled, he heard himself gasp, hoping Kendall hadn't heard it too.
"It's all right, Father, I know I'm not gonna make it."
"Kendall, don't talk like that. You've got a whole staff of doctors and nurses here, just to take care of you and make you better."
"Father, I've seen enough movies in my life to know when a person is dying, so please don't try to make me feel differently...Please?"
"All right..."
"Would you do me a favor and tell Troy again how sorry I am?"
"Troy knows that, Kendall."
"And would you tell Jason and Tony at the church I'm sorry I won't get to serve mass with them."
"I'll tell them."
"I wish I could've, just one time, put on that robe and vestments."
"Maybe you still will when you get well and come back to church."
Kendall tried to cough up the mucous that was keeping the air flow blocked, but he was suddenly too weak to cough. Cliff saw a look of fright invade Kendall's eyes and a white aura seemed to wash across his face,
"Do you want me to call your mom in to see you?" Cliff asked with a controlled urgency.
"No, Father Cliff, I only want you...and I want you to say that prayer. Would you do that for me?"
"Sure, big guy, but I'll pray only if you promise to keep your eyes open this one time....all right?"
Kendall weakly nodded his head while Cliff reached into the coffers of his memory for the words...any words would do...as long as they were appropriate for the moment.
"O Lord, look with compassion upon this, Thy servant.
Fill him with Faith, Hope, Love and repentance,
Keep from him the powers of darkness and establish
him in the Communion of the Catholic Church.
Wash him from all his sins, let his end be full of
peace and comfort, and in the hour of departure
may his soul rest in Thee, unto Everlasting Life.
Amen."
The hand Cliff was holding slowly withdrew limply.
The Kendall Cliff had known and loved...was gone.
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"...sometimes people leave you, halfway through the wood..."
Stephen Sondheim
"Into the Woods"
Act II (1987)
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Cliff slowly turned to walk back into the waiting room where Kitty Marsden sat with Roger. As soon as she saw Cliff, she immediately sensed what had just happened and let out a loud wail that he would remember the rest of his life. When Cliff was a child, the air raid siren in the town square was the most terrifying sound he knew. But in that moment, Kitty's scream replaced it in his mind as she rose to her feet. Roger jumped up to steady her if it was needed.
She suddenly made a lunge toward Cliff and began beating his chest with her fists. "YOU BASTARD!! HE'S DEAD!! MY SON IS DEAD AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!"
"Mrs. Marsden, PLEASE!" Roger screamed, trying to pull her off Cliff.
"MAY GOD DAMN YOU TO ETERNAL HELL FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!"
On the last cry, she sank to her knees and began to sob, loudly and mournfully. Roger got on his knees to hold her. Her face dropped onto his chest, muffling her cries. She stayed there until she was only whimpering. Cliff's eyes were transfixed on Roger's as he sat there looking back at Cliff, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. Cliff didn't mind being the brunt of her anger. It was in her nature to find someone to blame other than herself...always someone else---never herself. Kitty Marsden was incapable of accepting the blame for anything.
Cliff thought back to a few hours ago when Kendall had left the rectory...happy, hopeful. and having a feeling that he had been forgiven by Troy for any wrong he might have done. Seeing him on his bicycle, Cliff realized there had been a definite change in Kendall's life. His determination to find his own way. topped with the promise that next Sunday he would be serving his church and his God as an acolyte of St. Genesius Church, had given Cliff a memory he would treasure forever ...and now THIS!...this tragedy!...It was times like these that made even the staunchest believers have their doubts in the Almighty or in His masterful plan. Cliff remembered the scene from the movie, "Pete and Tillie" in which Carol Burnett and Walter Matthau had had a child, late in their lives, and the child died. In her desperate grief, Carol went into their backyard and screamed at God, "You son-of-a-bitch! Why?! Why?! Why?!".
When Kitty had calmed down enough to leave. Roger and Cliff walked her to her limousine and told Lars, the chauffeur, what had happened and asked if he would drive her home. Cliff gave Lars his home phone number to call in case she needed him. The limousine drove away, leaving Cliff standing there with Roger's arm around his shoulder.
"You wanna go home, babe?" Roger asked softly.
"In a little while...I need to do a couple of things before I go home and break the news to Troy. First, would you go inside and ask the nurse if she knows which funeral home will receive the body? If she knows, I need to go by the church for a few minutes. There's something I want to pick up there."
"All right, babe," Roger said, " Wait for me."
Roger went back inside the hospital leaving Cliff standing alone in the dark parking lot. Cliff wanted to cry. He wanted to look up to the sky and yell as Tillie had, "Why? You, son-of-a-bitch...why?"
When Roger returned, Cliff was already sitting in the passenger seat of the Lexus. Roger opened his door and asked "Are you all right?"
"No, but I'll say I am, anyway." Cliff replied.
"Chappell's." he said,
"Pardon?"
"Chappell's Funeral Home is where Kendall is to be sent."
"Thank you, Then I'll need to go by the church for about two minutes,"
"No problem." he said and drove his car toward St. Genesius'.
Cliff went in the back entrance of the church and made his way in the darkness to the ante-room just behind the altar and picked up the few things he needed, put them in a sack, and returned to the car.
"Where to? Home?" Roger asked.
"No, I would like to stop by Chappell's first, if you don't mind."
"Mind? Cliff, I'd drive you to the moon and back if you asked me."
"God, I'm so glad you're here, Rog...but I feel so bad about involving you in so much tragedy....You leave your church, give up your priesthood, come to see me for support and solace and instead find me involved in AIDS care, car wrecks, blackmail schemes, gay matchmaking, house renovations---and now this...Kendall."
"I'm just glad I'm here so that you didn't have to go through all of it by yourself...That's my main purpose in life...to always be here with you and use any power within my means to make you happy."
"You DO make me happy, Rog...I just hope I'm enough for you."
"Since we were kids, you were all I ever wanted in the world...and now that I have you...hell or high water won't ever break us up."
"Roger, I pray to God that we'll have a long life together. When death strikes as suddenly as it has with Kendall, and almost with Troy, it just reminds me of how uncertain the future can be."
"Cliff, look at me. Each new day is a lifetime. When we awake in the morning, we realize that we made it through the night and we've lived to see a brand new day. Millions will die today. Over half won't even be aware it's coming. My mother and father...did they know that they would not live to see their airplane land safely when they boarded it to go on their second honeymoon? No way! Few of us ever really know what's going on inside our bodies. Will a minute piece of stored cholesterol break free from an artery and try to pass freely through the heart? We get up in the dark at night to go to the bathroom and accidentally hit our shin on the bed. Do we ever get concerned that that slight bump in the dark can cause an embolism and a day, a week, a month later, we have a heart attack or CVA without ever knowing what caused it? We drive from our house to the grocery store to pick up bread and milk, never knowing that some idiot driver on a side street is going to run a red light and crash into the side of our car. Freak and bizarre incidents which are life-threatening happen every minute of every hour of every day. Then, of course, there are the soldiers and sailors, fighting wars around the world. Do they go off to battle daily, knowing this might be their last day? No matter where or how you look, life has always been and will always be uncertain. Remember, 'Carpe diem'? Seize the day! I've always said seize the moment, make it count. It's not just an idiom when you hear, 'live each day as if it were your last', because it just might be. And that, my love, is why every moment we have together, every moment we share must count! It must be filled with meaning, with no regrets, because the next moment might not be there."
"Jesus Christ! Roger! That's one of the most beautiful sermons I've ever heard...although I know you didn't mean it to be a sermon. But I know you're right. Every moment between us WILL be filled with love and happiness in order that we can brace ourselves and stand up to the unexpected occurrences, such as Kendall's accident. Dear God! Why did it take all these years for us to become one?"
"We always were one, Cliff, even though we were miles apart for a while."
"Yes, but I was so foolish. I pursued sex with other guys when I should have been thinking about you the whole time."
"Cliff, an Anglican priest does not take a vow of celibacy. You're a man with a man's needs. Sex is one of them! You had no idea that I would ever show up here in Briarwood. Hell, if I'd known that sex was that important to you, I'd've called you every night and we could have had phone sex. So don't feel guilty about any sexual encounters you might have partaken in before I arrived. I...I had a few indiscretions myself during the past few years."
"Oh?"
"Now don't go trying to pry, to find out with whom they were or how many because it doesn't matter. I don't want to know who you did what with, either. The important thing is...we have each other now...NOW is NOW! If we both go to sleep tonight and awaken tomorrow, we'll have each other then as well...and if 'forever' happens to be forty or fifty years...we'll still be together then. Perhaps, being in a car, driving to a funeral home in a time of sorrow, is not the time or place for a commitment ceremony, but I'm vowing my eternal love and devotion to you this minute...whether we're alive and together the next minute, tomorrow, or fifty years from now, there will be no other love in my life except you. Cliff, I firmly believe that if there is a God, when He created you and created me, he made two halves of one person and one soul. He meant us to be joined together and to be one as long as we're both alive."
"I...I can't top that speech. I remember the movie, 'Ghost' where Demi Moore told Patrick Swayze how much she loved him and Patrick was at a loss of words, just as I am now. He said, 'Ditto'...and if you can take that little five letter word as being the fondest reply from my heart...then all I can say back to you is...Roger, 'ditto'."
"Cliff, I can't wait to get you home and hold you in my arms! With my parents and grandparents all dead, you're actually all I have in my life...and what's more, you're all I want in my life!"
Tears had filled Cliff's eyes. He paused, swallowed the lump in his throat, and softly said, "Ditto, my darling".
Roger smiled warmly back at Cliff and squeezed gently on his thigh and said, "Come on, let's go see if I can find Chappell's Funeral Home. I think I saw it down on Sycamore Street."
"You're right...It's only a few blocks more."
Except for one light in the back of the building, Chappell's was dark, being that it was now five o'clock in the morning. Since Cliff had to be back at the church by 6:30 to get ready for 7:00 AM Morning Prayer service, he could only spend a few minutes inside Chappell's, then rush home, shave and shower, pausing only to break the bad news to Troy and Jay, then return to St. Genesius'. When he knocked on the door at Chappell's, he was greeted by the 'friendly' undertaker (and the embalmer). Cliff told him what he wanted, handed him a sack, and left.
When the two of them arrived home, Jay was standing in the doorway waiting. He had not slept a wink, since he had not known why Cliff and Roger had left so suddenly in the middle of the night, without a word to him or to Troy.
"I've been worried sick...where did you go?" Jay asked, like a typical 'waiting' parent.
"Is Troy sleeping?" Cliff asked, ignoring Jay's inquiry.
"He's been asleep for hours...after I gave him a 'manual sedative'...Now tell me where you've been or I'll just have to go turn on the TV and find out for myself," Jay joked.
"Jay, I want you to know I love you, but I'm in a hurry and the things I would like to say to you, Roger will say for me, while I clean up to go to work."
"Well, excuuuuse me...I'm only the AIDS maid."
"Jay, quit clowning," Roger said, "Sit down, please. I'm afraid I have some rather bad news for you...well, for Troy, really...and maybe you can help us find a way to tell Troy without upsetting him too much."
"My God! What's happened?" Jay asked, changing to a serious tone, his artificial brittleness dropping away.
While Cliff shaved, bathed and put on fresh clothes, Roger began describing the events that had transpired after they had received the phone call from the hospital. About midway through Roger's narrative, Cliff heard a muted sob from Jay, and then he heard Jay weeping.
"Oh, my God...how can we tell this to Troy?" Jay asked Roger as he began to weep some more. Maybe no one had ever used the phrase to describe Jay, but at times, he had the makings of a real drama queen, but in the nicest, most sincere way. Despite his physical condition, he reveled in other people's tragedy...whether he knew them or not. He just loved to express emotion...loudly. No matter what the mood was, Jay was always ready to play out the scene, but never revealing how deeply felt the emotion really was.
By now, Cliff was ready to leave for the church service. He asked Roger if he would stay home in case Troy awoke. Cliff asked him to wait, if possible, until he returned around 9:00 AM to talk to Troy. Roger said he would try to get Jay to go to bed...as he needed his rest, too. The last thing either of them needed now was for Jay to suffer a relapse....'That WOULD be the straw that..' Cliff left and drove to the church. His lips tasted of hot chocolate from Roger's mouth, from the kiss he gave Cliff as he went out the door. Cliff was sorry about Kendall, but being human, he was even more appreciative that he still had Roger.
Afterward, Cliff didn't remember one word he said at Morning Prayer. It was too early for any of the attending parishioners to know anything about Kendall's death because the accident had happened too late to make the morning newspaper. At the end of the service, Cliff excused himself from the small crowd, saying he had a pressing appointment to attend to. Then he rushed home, hoping against hope that Troy was still asleep...and at the same time. wishing Troy was already awake and Roger had told him about Kendall. At least Cliff would have been spared Troy's initial shock.
When Cliff arrived home, he went into the kitchen. Roger said he had just heard a report on the TV news about the accident. Something Cliff had failed to find out was what had happened to the truck driver. Roger said the news was bad. According to the Channel 8 morning news anchor, as soon as the ambulances arrived, the two paramedics that were tending to the truck driver said he had suffered a heart attack and died on the way to the hospital. Cliff's first reaction was that he was sorry the truck driver was dead, but the poor man would never know how lucky he was to have died, rather than face a lifetime of Kitty Marsden's wrathful vengeance... Hell, he probably was better off dead!
At ten o'clock, they heard the tinkling of Troy's bedside bell, signaling that he was awake and needed to go to the bathroom. Cliff told Roger to finish his third cup of hot chocolate, that he would go tend to Troy's morning constitutional. Cliff hoisted Troy from his bed into his wheelchair and took him into the bathroom. Troy managed to stand up and stabilize himself by holding one hand on a towel rack and the other on the lavatory. This left Cliff with the task of reaching his hand into Troy's pajama fly and pulling out his morning erection and pointing it toward the toilet bowl while Troy relieved himself. Then Cliff gave the penis a final shake and a squeeze. Troy smiled at Cliff and Cliff winked back. Cliff wheeled him into the kitchen where Roger waited to give Cliff support in what he was about to say to Troy.
Cliff prefaced his news by saying he never knew why things happened the way they do. Troy thought Cliff was referring to HIS accident or Jay's unfortunate curse, but as soon as Cliff mentioned Kendall, it was like Troy already knew what Cliff was about to reveal...like he'd had a premonition. He was already in tears before Cliff told him about the tragic accident and its even more tragic outcome. Roger moved closer to Troy and held his hand. The further Cliff went with the story, the tighter Troy squeezed Roger's hand, so that by the time Cliff was finished, Roger's hand had turned white from lack of circulation from the pressure Troy was applying.
The first thing Troy said was. "My God, you mean that fucking bitch blamed YOU for Kendall's death?"
"She didn't know what she was saying, Troy." Cliff said.
"The hell she didn't! She makes life hell for everyone within her reach and she always blames someone else for the misfortunes she bestows. Kendall lived in a nightmare every day of his life! I didn't know he had gotten a bicycle, but at least it shows he had the courage to try to escape from her clutches."
"Oh, Cliff, before I forget to tell you," Roger interrupted. "while you were at church, the man from Chappell's funeral home called and said that it would be a closed-coffin service. Once he had finished the embalming, the casket would be sealed and no one, not even Kitty, would view the body...on her instructions, I suppose. He also said to tell you that, because of the casket being sealed, he would be able to do as you asked."
Cliff stood there proudly smiling. Roger's curiosity got the best of him.
"What in hell did you ask him to do?" Roger asked.
"You remember I asked you to drop me off at the church for a minute? You recall I brought out a sack and took it into the funeral home? I told the undertaker, if, by chance, the coffin WAS to remain closed, would he dress Kendall in the attire I had brought. Kitty will never know that her son was buried in a black cassock and a white robe...the same that the other acolytes wear every Sunday."
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Kitty saw to it that Kendall's funeral was the event of the season! She hadn't waited for friends and well-wishers to send flowers, she had flown a floral designer in from Cypress Gardens. Florida, to fill every nook and cranny of St. Genesius with imported orchids from Brazil, tulips from Holland, hibiscus from Hawaii, and lilies from Switzerland. With the money she had spent on flowers, a condo could have been built to house the entire homeless population of Briarwood, but she'd never understand what she COULD have done in her son's memory. Even the platitude, "Funerals are for the living", didn't apply in this case. This showy array of extravagance was more like a Cecil B. DeMille production directed by K. Marsden. The church was overflowing with "spectacle-seekers". One account on TV said there were more people outside, trying to get in, than there were inside, trying to celebrate the mass.
Cliff had asked Roger to don another set of vestments and assist in the ceremony. Roger complied immediately just because Cliff had asked. Jay had kept Troy sitting in his wheelchair inside one of the smaller rooms of the outer foyer, waiting until the pews were all filled before entering and taking a place in the back of the nave. This would avoid the possible 'meeting' of Troy and Kitty.
Even though Jason and Tony had never really met Kendall, they knew of him and his desire to join them with their duties. Maybe it was just emotional empathy, but Cliff noticed each of them wiping a tear from his eyes from time to time during the service.
Kitty had requested that the choir sing, "The Shepherd of the Lambs" which she claimed was Kendall's favorite. Cliff had never heard of the hymn which made him wonder about its popularity on the top-ten hymnal charts. Cliff thought to himself, 'Oh, well, whatever Kitty wants....Kitty...etc'. Both Rob and Timmy had taken off from their jobs to sing in the choir for which Cliff was very grateful. With all the guests and the media attending, he didn't want the church to be judged by the nest of tone-deaf hymnal-holders that filled the seats in the choir loft every Sunday.
Down in front of the altar, amid the display from the botanical gardens, sat the bier holding Kendall's blue metallic casket, complete with twenty-four karat gold handles. Not knowing if she had six friends to ask, Kitty had hired six male escorts to act as pallbearers, wearing powder blue tuxedos, the trousers possible a bit too snug, with tiny birds of paradise buds pinned to the lapels. At exactly 1:59 PM, one minute before Cliff was to start the mass, Kitty made her grand entrance down the center aisle in a black velvet dress, designed by Schiaperelli, just for the occasion. With her coiffed head erect, she walked somberly to her usual cordoned-off pew. Once she was in place, she nodded to Cliff to begin the funeral. During the entire service she never once showed any emotion, nor did she ever look at Cliff. Her eyes remained fixed on the casket.
Throughout the church, there was only a minimal amount of sniffing and nose-blowing. Everyone was too taken back; they sat looking aghast at the spectacle. Occasionally Cliff looked at Roger who raised his brows and rolled his eyes to give Cliff an 'Oh, brother!' look.
Precisely sixteen minutes later, the entire service was over. There was an old saying-- "Don't be late for an Anglican funeral or you'll miss the whole thing.". No one except the pallbearers, Roger, and Cliff were allowed onto the grounds of the Marsden estate for the burial. It was strictly off-limits to everyone else. Kitty had picked a spot about 500 yards from the window of Kendall's bedroom to inter his body. Cliff recited three brief prayers and that was it! The last part of the funeral was over. Cliff went over to take Kitty's hand but before he could get near her, she turned and headed back toward her mansion. Cliff looked at Roger and he shook his head and looked at the ground.
The two of them got in the Lexus and went home to await Jay's review of the gala event. Would it be 'thumbs up'? They would soon know.
When Cliff and Roger entered the house, they were surprised to find everything quiet...with no Jay or Troy in sight.
"I wonder where they are?" Cliff asked Roger.
"Maybe Jay had trouble loading Troy and his wheelchair into your car?"
Cliff had presumed that Jay knew how to drive when Cliff loaned him his Toyota.
"That's strange. Your car is parked in the garage," said Roger.
Cliff walked down the hallway and noticed Troy's new bedroom door was closed. He pressed his ear to the abutment and heard the two of them mumbling in a low quiet tone. Cliff hesitated to knock after he heard Troy crying. Jay was doing his best to comfort him, Cliff decided it was best to leave the two of them alone.
"Oh, my God! Why? Why? Why?" Troy asked Jay.
"Things like this aren't meant to be questioned, Troy." Jay replied.
"Jay, would you just hold me, please? I need to be held."
"Let me put you in bed and I can hold you better."
Jay helped Troy out of the wheelchair and pivoted him to sit on the side of the bed. He placed two pillows behind Troy and eased him into a reclining position.
"How's that? Better?" Jay asked.
"Much...now will you hold me?"
"There's nothing I'd like better."
"Jay, how long has it been since you've actually...been with...someone?"
"Lonnie died a little over six months ago and we'd hardly been intimate in almost a year before that."
"Weren't you ever lonely?"
"I was until I met Cliff down by the lake. I haven't been lonely since then."
"I mean lonely from..being..with..someone special to you?"
"You mean like boyfriend-boyfriend...that kind of lonely?"
"Yeah."
"Sure, I stay lonely. Once you get diagnosed with the big high-five, no one even wants to be your friend any longer."
"I'm sorry, but why do you call it the big "high-five'?"
"You know, the Roman numeral..."V" for five. You just put a 'hi' in front of it or raise your hand high in the air, and you get, 'HI"--"FIVE'... H..I..V!"
"Shit, I should've been able to figure that out."
"Anyway, as I was saying, once you get 'it'...you're cast aside, ...ignored by everyone...your friends...parents...relatives... guys you work with and drink with. No one wants you around."
"It must be devastating to become an outcast like that."
"Especially if you're used to being the life of the party, like I was,"
"Do you think you'll ever find 'someone' again?"
"You mean...to love?"
"Yes."
"Nope! "It's just me from now on..."
"What if...what if 'someone' was to come into your life?"
"I'd run the other way...or run HIM away!"
"But just suppose there already WAS someone...someone who cares about you deeply?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure I would discourage him."
"I think you're too late for that." Troy said, "There IS someone."
"WHO, for God's sake?"
"Me, Jay, if you'll have me."
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"No. I know in my present physical state, I can't love you the way you would like...but, if I continue to get better and improve..."
"Troy, you're not listening! You're not aware of what you're saying...I'm sick. I have AIDS. I probably will DIE from AIDS...and very soon! Why would you want to waste your love on me? Our relationship is doomed from the start!"
"Well, I don't think you're going to die today, and probably not tomorrow or any time in the next week...There!---that gives us seven days together, right there...but who's counting, love? Who's to say how much time anyone will have with someone else. Kendall's accident should teach us that. We never know from day to day if we or the ones we love will be around tomorrow...but we can't stop living and we can't stop loving on that premise...Every day can be a lifetime with someone you love....There's no guaranteed life expectancy for anyone. Jay, I don't mind telling you that I love you today...and IF we're both here twenty-four hours from now, then I'll love you tomorrow...In life and love, we can only reach for one day at a time...nothing more. That way, we don't waste the minutes we're allotted. Every second counts." Troy finished his appeal.
Had Cliff and Roger just heard Troy's speech, they would both have sworn Roger's Lexus had been bugged a few nights ago when Roger said practically the same remarks to Cliff, almost verbatim.
Jay lay there for a long minute, looking at Troy.
"Are you trying to convince me that I should allow myself to love one more time."
"Only if you can find someone to love you in return?"
"And you think...you think YOU'RE that 'someone'?"
"I'm saying I would love you if you'd let me. You see, Jay, I have no one in my life either...I wasn't even aware I was gay until Kitty forced me to have relations with Kendall."
"So you think you ARE gay, now?" Jay asked.
"Totally."
"Then I think you should wait until you meet someone who's healthy before you give your love to him."
"I don't give a fuck how sick you think you are...It's your inner person that I love...I could give two hoots in hell about sex...but even if we had a sexual relationship, we're both intelligent enough to know how to be safe."
"Instead of the blind leading the blind, with us it'd be more like the terminally ill leading the crippled to the cemetery."
"That's the worst scenario...but even if it's logical...I don't give a shit!...Let's face reality, Jay...You need someone and, in your condition, you think your prospects are dismal...In my case, I, too, need someone, and with my paralysis and unstable mental situation...no one is going to woo me, either...so why can't two lonely people, people who need and want to be loved, go forward together?...You were kidding Cliff the other night about our planning a wedding with the Trocadero and Chippendale guys...but I'm not kidding now...I would love to love you...and I would love to have you love me back."
"Boy, you sure can paint a rosy picture for two guys who are standing knee-deep in quicksand on the edge of a cliff."
"I've lived my whole life in uncertainty." Troy said. "Why change now? Jay, please listen to me. You're bright, intelligent, caring. You've waited on me hand and foot since I arrived. No one in my life could ever like me enough to wipe my ass, but you have. I've watched you around Cliff and Roger. They love you like a son. You've become a part of them---as you've become a part of me. Granted, you have a few more feminine qualities than I would look for if I had been looking for a man all my life. But in the long run, since I've been heterosexual all my life, your slightly feminine traits are actually appealing to me. As for your looks, I could say you're beautiful because you really are...but instead, I'll say you're a handsome 'looker'. You're a great cook! You're loyal, dependable, trusting, extremely witty, and, oh, so lovable! What more could I want? I just wonder if I can live up to your expectations in a male companion or lover?"
"Do you think we could find a sexual compatibility?"
"If sex becomes an important issue, we'll just find a way to do it!"
"I thought I was the one who talked too much, but I'm finding out we have that in common as well. So would you just shut up and kiss me?" Jay said.
"Whaddya think, Jay?" Troy seemed to be asking for a commitment. "Think we could make a 'go' of it?"
"What do you say?"
"I say 'yes'!"
"If you're sure, then I say 'yes' too."
"What do you think Cliff and Roger will say if I tell them I want you to move into my new bedroom?"
"Oh, shit! Don't tell Cliff! He'll be out on the street corner looking for some other hopeless case to move into MY bedroom."
"Cliff IS pretty wonderful, isn't he? And so is Roger."
"Cliff's the greatest person who's ever entered my life...or at least he was until this afternoon. Now I have someone else to focus my attention on... you devil!." Jay said, with a grin.
"You think you love me a little?" Troy teased.
"Nope!...I love you a lot."
"I love you, too...and don't YOU forget it!"
Cliff was a practicing Anglican priest and was used to hearing all kinds of confessions and declarations, but none quite as sincere as the ones he had just overheard while at Troy's door. He thanked God they'd 'found' each other before he went back into the bedroom where Roger had stretched out, recovering from the funeral.
"Did you find them?" he asked."
"Well, let's say, I 'heard them'".
"Well, what's going on?...Are they all right?"
"Yeah, you might say that."
"Cliff, what the fuck are you getting at?" Roger asked, his patience wearing thin.
"I think we might have a spare bedroom available later tonight."
"Whaddya mean?...who's moving out?"
"No one's moving OUT!...Let's just say there's been a new merger in our corporation."
"Is Troy worse?...Is Jay moving in to watch him closer?"
"No, it looks like the love bug has bitten both of them...and from all indications, it appears to be mutual...and incurable!"
"Well, praise be to God!" Roger shouted and then they both laughed.
Cliff leaned over to kiss him when the fucking phone rang....AGAIN!
"Goddammit! Don't answer it, Cliff!...There's a limit on just how much a person can take."
"It may be Lars, calling about Kitty. I gave him my number."
"Tell him we've moved and left no forwarding address."
With a feeling of great trepidation, Cliff slowly removed the receiver from the cradle and placed it to his ear.
"Hello?...Oh, hi, Rob...Thank God it's you...I wanted to call you anyway and thank you and Timmy for singing in the choir this....what?...What?...When?...Oh my God!...Where is he now?...Have they set a price on the bail?...How much?...Oh, fuck!...Well, are you all right?...What would you like me to do?... OK, I will!...I'll talk to Roger and we'll be right down...OK!!...Stop crying...and try not to worry!...We'll work this out somehow! OK, we'll meet you there."
Cliff hung up the phone and stared blankly at Roger.
"Don't tell me!" Roger screamed. "I don't want to know!!!"
"That was Rob," Cliff said, quietly. "It's Timmy...he's been arrested."
"GOD DAMN!! WHAT FOR?"
"He's been accused of molesting one of his students."
"DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!" Roger shouted. "Cliff, remind me to have that goddamned phone disconnected the first thing in the morning!!!"
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(To be continued in "Briarwood" Book One-chapter nine)