All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now.
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"BRIARWOOD"
Copyright Ritchris, 2005
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
Copyright Ritchris, 2003
Revised Version
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
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BOOK EIGHT
"UNTO THE HILLS"
Chapter-Eighty-nine
"Where is the boy who looks after the sheep?
He's under a haystack fast asleep.
Will you wake him?
No, not I - for if I do, he's sure to cry."
Traditional nursery rhyme.
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Cliff, Jay, Troy, Billy, Tom, Mike, and Lee had been sitting in the waiting room outside of surgery at Cole Institute for nearly three hours awaiting word about Jake. It appeared as if they were all hypnotized for all their eyes rarely shifted their focus from the large double doors behind which Jake was being attended to by nearly a dozen nurses and physician specialists. The only movement of the group was Jay's hands as he fingered his rosary beads. Two hours earlier, Cliff had said a prayer while everyone joined hands.
All of them had confidence in Cole's medical skills. Each was assured that everything possible was being done, every known advanced procedure was being applied to Jake. Not one of them was aware that three hours had passed, for time seemed to be standing still. Billy was doing all he could to comfort Lee by putting his arm around Lee's shoulder. Troy felt the need to go outside and smoke a cigarette, but didn't want to leave the others.
Mike was the first to stand as he felt his bladder would burst if he didn't get to pee as quickly as he could make it to the men's room. Seeing Mike's need and intention prompted Tom to accompany him since he, too, was about to die to go to the bathroom as well. So the two of them left to go down the long hall to relieve themselves. They entered the restroom and all but ran to the urinals to get there in time.
"Oh, boy, that feels good!" Mike said.
"I'm just glad you had the nerve to stand up to go," Tom replied. "I was ready to pee all over myself."
"Me, too!" Mike echoed. "Hey, you think we oughta go down to that little canteen and get everyone something to drink?"
"Wouldn't be a bad idea unless they're dying to pee as bad as we were."
"I didn't think of that."
"Still it might be a nice gesture just the same."
"Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"Why do you think it's taking so long operating on Jake?"
"Eye surgery is very delicate. A doctor can't rush through it as he can with some larger organs."
"Is eye surgery dangerous? I mean....can Jake die?"
"I don't want to think about that, babe. I'm just praying he'll be all right."
"Do you think he'll be blind?"
"I don't know. It depends on how deeply the acid went into his cornea. If the retinas aren't too severely damaged, there's always the chance that he can get corneal transplants and, if that's successful, his sight might be restored... maybe not completely, but we just have to trust the staff of surgeons at the Institute. They're the best and they'll do everything that they can to make Jake see again."
"Who do you think threw the acid on him?"
"The worst kind of asshole you can imagine."
"I hope when he's caught, he gets the electric chair!"
"The police will have to catch him first; then there'll be a long trial and the jury will have to decide what sentence to impose upon him."
"They'll give him the 'chair', I'm sure of it!"
"We'll have to wait and see. Throwing acid on someone does not warrant a death penalty, though. He can be charged with attempted murder using a lethal weapon."
"They won't let him go free, will they?"
"No way! He's gonna spend a lot of years in prison. You'll see."
"You know what I think?"
"I'm afraid to ask."
"I think that his punishment should be that he has to give up his eyeballs and give them to Jake. That seems only fair...THEN send him to prison, 'blind'!"
"Is that the way they carry out justice in Alabama?"
"I don't know, but it SHOULD be!"
"I think you might be right!"
"Come on, zip up your fly before I get other ideas and let's go get some cokes and coffee for everyone."
"Do I get a kiss?"
"You want one?"
"I need one..."
"OK, pucker up!"
Tom leaned over and kissed Mike while Mike was getting his trousers in order.
"Thanks."
The two exited the restroom to go into an anteroom farther down the hall which connected the surgery unit to the unit which treated burns. Cole was originally designed to treat HIV and AIDS, but, over the years, the facility had expanded to treat almost any disease, ailment, or condition, using high-tech skills and equipment. As they continued Mike was curious as to where his and Tom's office would be...in which Cole building.
"Our office building is two buildings over from this one. I'll take you to see it once we get word about Jake," Tom told him.
"Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"What if Jake IS blind, I mean, permanently? Is he still going to live with us?"
"Of course, silly, where else would he go? Why did you ask such a question?"
"Oh, I was just thinking ahead. I guess he'd have to have all kinds of railings and safety features around the house."
"Oh, God, another reason for you to redecorate, I suppose? I knew you had some tomfoolery in the back of your mind. You're becoming like 'Monk' on TV with OCD, only your case is not quite as advanced as his."
"OCD?"
"Obsessive-compulsive-disorder? Some people have to have everything in its proper place all the time or they go berserk. Others are never satisfied with the way something looks..."
"You mean like someone who constantly wants to change the furniture or the color scheme of a room?"
"EXACTLY! That's you to a tee!"
"You think I really have OCD?"
"Yes, only your 'OCD' stands for obsessive cock disorder because you're always trying to have sex with me."
"Yeah, but only with you."
"Don't you think I know it? You'd come at me twenty-four times a day...once an hour if I'd let you."
"That's the way it should be. You're mine! You belong to me and I should play with my toys any time I want."
"Yeah, but what happens when THIS toy gets tired and begins to slow down?" Tom asked.
"That's simple, I'll just shove some new batteries up your ass and you'll be ready to go again."
"You mean you'll turn me into the Energizer Bunny and keep..."
"Going and going and going. You got it, Tom!"
"You get more incorrigible every day!"
"I hope so. I like it when you call me big names."
"How about 'delusionally-psychotic'?"
"Sounds great!"
Tom and Mike had been gone from the others in the waiting room almost ten minutes when Roger came out of the doors leading to surgery. Everyone in the room suddenly felt his heart stop for a second as they tried to read the expression on Roger's face. Roger only made eye contact with Cliff because they didn't need words to communicate, only a look.
"Roger, how is he?" Jay asked, anxiously.
Roger didn't respond to Jay or anyone until he said, "Lee?"
"Yes sir?" Lee replied, his voice was quivering from nerves.
"Can you come with me so that we can talk a little?"
"Sure."
The message Roger had sent to Cliff with his eyes was now confirmed as Roger spoke to Lee, Jake's only real family. Roger put his arm around Lee and led him through the big doors.
"Cliff?" Jay asked.
"Yes, Jay?"
"I saw the look Roger gave you. What did it mean?"
"Jay, you'd better brace yourself because it was bad news."
"How bad?"
"Bad." Cliff replied as he continued to stare at the doors.
"'Bad' bad?"
"Yes, 'bad' bad."
It was impossible for all the others not to hear Jay and Cliff's conversation. Billy edged toward Cliff and took Cliff's hand.
There was obvious fear in Billy's voice when he spoke, "Daddy Cliff?"
"Yes, son?"
"Are you telling Uncle Jay that Jake is...?"
"Jake's with God now, Billy. Be glad for him."
The silence in the room was deafening until Billy screamed and began to cry loudly, burying his face against Cliff's chest.
"Oh, God, No!" Jay shouted as Troy ran over to steady his shaken lover.
Roger, in the meantime, was gently breaking the news to Lee about his brother's death. The acid had pierced deeply through Jake's eyeballs and had eaten into his brain. There was no medical wizardry that could have prevented Jake's death. Lee collapsed in Roger's arms. Jake's death was the final blow to the brothers' long journey from Fort Stockton. It was as if death had been following them closely every mile, every step of the way to Briarwood. Jake was the last living relative of Lee's and Lee had never felt so alone. Suddenly Lee wished he had died from AIDS while he was sick, because then he and Jake would be together now.
Just twenty-four hours before, the Briarwood Boys were sitting at Cliff and Roger's table in joyous celebration over Cliff's appearance on CSPAN. Now, a day later, tragedy had once again struck the Boys, and even though Jake was the newest member of the clan, each of them was deeply affected by the loss.
Once again, the old adage rang true...death comes in threes...Ryan, Ed, and now, Jake. Hopefully Jake would complete the circle and there would be no more Briarwood Boys' deaths for a long time.
The triage room was silent, but the thoughts were thunderous as Tom and Mike came into the room carrying trays of cokes, coffee, breakfast rolls and snacks from the vending machines. It took only a second for the situation of the scene to sink into Tom and Mike for they knew immediately what had just happened.
Mike was filled with rage and screamed, "DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL!" Tom took the tray from Mike before he dropped it and Mike turned to hit the wall with his fist. "Fuck all those goddamned rednecks! We don't seem to stand a chance against them. I swear before God, if I find the person responsible before the police do, I'll kill him myself!"
Mike's burst of sudden anger filled everyone in the room with fear and fury. They knew how Mike felt because he had verbalized their own thoughts. Tom went to Mike and embraced him, trying to settle him down. Mike's knuckles were bleeding and the blood spilled on Tom's shirt. "Shit! Now I've got blood all over you and you'll have to get tested for my HIV! DAMN! When does all this stop?"
Tom removed his shirt and said, "Mike, look none of your blood got onto my body. See? I have no cuts, bruises, or places on my chest where I could have gotten infected. I'm safe! Don't you see? Let's go get your hand bandaged, OK?"
Everyone watched as Tom took Mike to the nurses' station down the hall to have his hand washed and cared for.
"Mike just about said it all," Jay remarked. "Won't gay hate-crimes ever cease? Did Matthew Shepard's death do nothing about educating the public or did it just encourage them to do more? I mean, this is Briarwood, for Christ's sake, not Wyoming! This happened to Jake on a very safe street in a very safe neighborhood as he was on his way to a very safe school. I'm like Mike! I don't get it!"
Cliff looked at Billy and asked, "Son, did you not see the person at all?"
"No, Daddy Cliff. The car windows were all black, but from the way the window was cracked, I could vaguely see that there was someone sitting beside him."
"You're sure it was a man?"
"Sure, he talked to me. I heard his voice."
"Do you remember anything about the car? The make? The kind of car it was?"
"I think it was dark, really dark green, and it was a Chevrolet. I remember that."
"Was it a new or old model?"
"It was pretty old. I know it wasn't a new one. That's what I told the police."
Jay spoke up, "Now all we have to do is drive around every street in every neighborhood looking for a dark green Chevrolet with heavy tint on its windows."
"I'm sure the Briarwood police will find it," Cliff reassured them.
"God, that poor little guy..." Troy said.
"Uncle Troy?"
"Yes?"
"The acid was meant for me, not Jake. I met Jake on the way to school. The guy in the car asked me all kinds of questions about Daddy Cliff and Daddy Roger. When he threw the stuff, he was aiming right at me, but I ducked and it hit Jake instead. Jake was just an innocent victim."
"Billy, you mustn't blame yourself," Cliff said to him. "It wasn't your fault, nor was it God's plan for the acid to hit you. I can't give you an answer why Jake became the accidental target. I know that the acid wasn't thrown accidentally, but it's difficult to imagine why someone could be so viciously cruel. I'm really sorry, Billy Boy, but the Bible teaches us that there's a reason for everything that happens under the sun."
"Cliff?" Troy inquired. "Are there no other family members of Jake and Lee's? Someone we should call?"
"No, Troy, besides Lee, we're all the family that Jake had."
"Do you feel we should call Jeff and Johnny?"
"Later. Jeff only met Jake and Lee at Ryan's funeral. Johnny only knows them from our telephone conversations."
"I suppose Lee will stay on with Mike and Tom. He has no other place to go," Troy added.
"That's the best place for him," Jay said. "He's like what all of us were once...alone...until Cliff and Roger brought us all together into one big family. We're closer than real brothers and Lee has all of us. He's one of us now...as was Jake...forever and always."
Roger interrupted the moment by asking Cliff if he would come to Jake's bedside to perform final unction. Cliff reached into his right hand coat pocket and got his prayer stole, kissed it, and placed it around his neck. He walked with Roger through the doors to Jake's bed.
The nurses had washed most of the blood from Jake's face from the surgery and Cliff almost gasped when he saw the deeply burned splotches on Jake's face, particularly in his left eye. The eye socket was totally empty. His cheeks were burned to the bone. Half of Jake's upper lip was missing and his teeth were showing through. This was the most horrible sight Cliff had ever seen. As he began to bless Jake's body by anointing Jake's forehead with the sign of the cross, it was impossible for Cliff to hold back his own tears.
Roger took his place by Cliff's side, putting his arm around Cliff's waist for support until the brief rite was finished.
"We did our best, Cliff, but we weren't magicians this time. Jake's condition proved to all us attending him that we're still mortals, not angelic miracle workers sent from God."
"I know you did everything you could, Roger," Cliff replied. "Where's Lee?"
"He's sitting in one of the recovery rooms. Wes, one of our surgical RN's is with him. I gave him a mild mood stabilizer and he seems calm...at least on the outside. What he's feeling or thinking inside is a matter you'll have to deal with. I'm the administrator, you're the shepherd." Ed said, giving Cliff a squeeze around his waist.
"I can't help but wonder if I hadn't been on CSPAN if any of this would've happened. I, apparently, stirred someone with anger enough to kill a young boy."
"Now, it's my turn to preach to you. It wasn't your fault, Cliff. It's the time in which we're living. Don't laugh, but I accredit part of this to the Bush administration. Not since the Civil War has our country been so polarized. The two major political parties are no longer slinging mud, they're actually hating one another. Another four years of Bush and we might find ourselves in a second civil war. Parents are suddenly hating their own children when and if they find out that their kids are gay or using drugs. Crime is no longer crime in the usual sense of the word, crime is now a sin against God. In Iraq, we're fighting a holy war...the Muslims against the right-wing evangelicals which Bush, Cheney, and Rove have riled up to hate their fellow Americans. So it's not your doing that has brought so much hatred in the country just now. Maybe the Pope was correct. Maybe Bush IS the anti-Christ!"
"Thanks, Rog, but there's no reason for you and me to proselytize one another. We both have the same ideas and philosophy," Cliff replied. "I...I think I'd better go talk with Lee."
"That's a good idea. He needs a bit of your love and understanding which you give me every day and night."
"No more than you give back to me."
"We're a team, babe! You and I! After all the years we've been together, you're always in my mind. The best part of my day is going home from Cole at night, knowing that you'll be there waiting for me, loving me, and allowing me to love you in return..."
Cliff turned and embraced Roger. Their heartbeats assumed the identical rhythms, each echoing the other's and it was as if two hearts had become one. Perhaps somewhere, Ryan, Ed, and Jake were looking down, observing the love they had received from Roger and Cliff.
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Art Manford's visit to Mackintosh, New Hampshire, could not have been more thrilling for him. Jeff had driven to the Montpelier airport to meet Art and then drive him back to Mackintosh. Typically, Art voiced the same reaction that everyone seemed to who saw the village for the first time. Art told Jeff that the town should be called 'Storyville' because it reminded him of the wonderful places described by the Brothers Grimm. The festive colors of the tiny shops and the bushy trees planted in the medians of every street enchanted Art as Jeff drove slowly through the town.
"My God! It's wonderful!" Art exclaimed.
"That's the way I felt when I first saw it. I had planned to stay on at St. Genesius with Father Cliff and I had grave reservations about coming up here to look at St. Aloysius...a tiny little church in a tiny little hamlet filled with dying residents...and then, from the time I entered the city limits of Mackintosh until the time I drove up to get a first glimpse of the tiny church, I'd already made up my mind to move here."
"It...it's like going into a time capsule or into some place Tolkien might have written about. Tell me, Father Jeff, who designed the town...who built all the houses and buildings?"
"The residents themselves did it."
"You mean people sick with HIV and AIDS?"
"The very same. Somehow, with their all being afflicted in almost the same way, they bonded together and found a new strength inside themselves and discovered the talents they then assembled into one unit...painters, carpenters, plumbers, electricians...each having something to offer to the others. They studied President Carter's Habitat for Humanity and decided that they could band together and build a whole new world and call it Mackintosh. Some of them who thought that they had little or nothing to offer began to learn how to do things they'd never imagined doing before. Guys learned how to sew and cook. They made curtains, bedspreads, tablecloths...and the ones who learned to cook opened restaurants experimenting with new recipes. Many were too ill to help but they still offered their encouragement to those who worked. Almost weekly, a few of them became too sick to work and even died, but there always seemed to be an apprentice or a new resident to take his place and thus, the building never stopped."
"This is amazing, Father Jeff! Why hasn't some movie producer and screenwriter been here to film this story? It's so awe-inspiring!"
"Primarily because of the confidentiality of the disease. Nearly all the residents came here with one purpose...to hide from the rest of the world. Most of them had been ostracized from society, their relatives and friends no longer wanted them. Once they felt they had gained a new independence, they didn't want their new world invaded by the outsiders who had cast them out or by the notoriety of the press or paparazzi."
"Father Jeff..."
"Please call me Jeff."
"I will if you'll call me Art."
"Done!"
"Jeff, how much capital would it take to start a village such as this in another part of the country? A hundred million? Half a billion?"
"No, Art, you're way out of the ball park. You're thinking much too big. You need to find an exclusive piece of property...something that no one else would want to build on...way out of the way. Usually, this land can be bought cheaply. Then after that, all you have to furnish are the bare necessities... lumber, tools, hammers, nails, paint, pipes, a power generator and access to a telephone cable...then spread the word among the HIV/AIDS population and offer them basic temporary shelter and food and let them go to work to build their new world."
"Jeff, you make it sound so easy."
"It can be when you're offering a new beginning to people who think they're facing the end. There are already some AIDS 'hope villages in several parts of the country. I've contacted a few in California. The villages give the residents strength and courage to combat their dreaded illness. They fight and live longer than they'd ever expected. And IF they should die while trying to build their haven, there are many more HIV and AIDS victims willing and ready to replace them."
"Damn! My father was right! I don't know how he learned about Mackintosh but it's given me a whole different perspective toward people with AIDS."
"When we print the posters saying that AIDS is not an end, but a beginning, we really mean it, Art."
"What about financial support?"
"Nearly all of them get disability checks and Medicare and Medicaid...not nearly enough, but they learn to economize and make good use of what money they receive. Unfortunately, the compassionate conservatives aren't so compassionate under the current administration in Washington. Funds have been cut, especially Medicaid which pays for drugs, every year for the past four years instead of providing the increases they were getting under President Clinton."
"Yes, I know. I was talking to my dad about that. He told me that once he asked a man...a Republican..to define the difference between a liberal and a conservative. The man's reply was, 'The conservatives give a man a fishing pole and teach him how to catch fish, while a liberal just outright gives the man a fish.' My dad asked him what about people who were unable or too sick to fish, then what? Were we supposed to sit around and watch them die from starvation? The Republican had no reply to that."
"People, such as the residents of Mackintosh, aren't looking for a handout from the government. They've feel as if they've been put out to pasture, away from the world, to graze aimlessly until they die. Ninety-nine percent of them worked all their lives, holding down good jobs, important positions. They paid their taxes to the government...millions in taxes!...and when it was their turn to receive, their turn to need their benefits which they had so ably paid for, the conservatives think of them as freeloaders, never stopping to think that some day THEY might be walking in the same shoes as those they are so ready to criticize."
"Sounds as if the nation is divided just as we were one-hundred-fifty years ago, the North and the South. It's only a short time until someone fires the first cannon to start a new war."
"I pray about that every day, Art. We're already at war. We just don't realize it!...And what makes it so sad is that there's no Lancelot on the horizon to unify us again."
"Your ideas amaze me, coming from someone so young."
"My dad is a lawyer in Briarwood...and a very wise man. He taught me and my brother, Alex, to think and feel the way he does."
"Your brother...he lives in Mackintosh, too?"
"Yes, he and his lover, Ted."
"I don't mean to pry, but my dad said you are gay."
"Yes, you'll meet my better half, Johnny, later in the day. Johnny and I just adopted twin boys, so we're a family of four now."
"That's wonderful! I...I'm afraid I'm not very astute about gay life. I don't think any of my friends are gay."
"I'll bet you're wrong. Think of your five closest friends and I'll guarantee you that one of them is gay."
"Are you serious?"
"Quite!"
Art laughed. "Now all I have to do is figure out which one has been keeping his secret from me."
"I'm going to drive to my house now and let you meet Johnny and the boys. Johnny has prepared dinner and I hope you'll spend the night at our house instead of going to a motel. That way we can discuss your dad's plan and Johnny and I can answer any questions which might occur to you."
"I'd like that."
Jeff headed his car home, but made a stop first at St. Aloysius to show Art his church.
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Kyle and Hal awoke almost at the same time, 7:30 AM. They had fallen asleep around 3:00 AM in a face-to-face embrace and had stayed that way all night. Now each had his morning erection probing at the other's. Their noses and lips were only a few inches apart as they gazed silently at one another.
"Good morning, lover," Kyle said softly.
"Good morning, lover," Hal echoed.
Their lips met gently for a morning peck, but no further because of early morning bad breath.
"You know that's the first time you've called me 'lover'?" Hal observed.
"Did it bother you?"
"No, not at all," Hal replied. "It made me feel totally like I'm completely gay now, in a good way...like I finally belong to someone."
"You do, Hal, and I want you to feel like I belong to you."
"That's something that never happened to me in all the quickie relationships with the girls in Hawthorne...but they're all in the past now."
Hal paused for a second before continuing.
"What's wrong?" Kyle asked.
"I...I was just wondering about all that talk that a straight man can't turn gay...that he's born that way."
"And?"
"I can't help but look back at my past and think maybe I've been gay all my life, just like Noah, but I was too afraid to 'open up' and find out. Maybe that's why Carolyn never really satisfied me. Our sex was good but not perfect. I fucked up by getting her pregnant and if things hadn't worked out differently, I'd've married her and never met you and get to know what it feels like to have someone 'own' you...Can I tell you somethin'?"
"You'd better."
"Well, last night, or rather this mornin', was the best sex I ever had in my whole life...only it wasn't 'sex'...I was makin' love to you and you to me. It made me realize how much I've been missin' all these years."
"It...it meant all that to you?"
"That, and a lot more."
"Now can I ask you something?"
"Sure, we have the rest of our lives."
"I feel something just below my abdomen poking at me. I was wondering if you had to pee as badly as I?" Kyle asked with a wry smile.
"I'm about to bust!"
"Let's run to the bathroom and then jump back in bed before the kids wake up."
"Race ya!"
The two tossed the covers to the floor and sprang from the bed to make a dash to the bathroom. They took their places side by side at the toilet and played a game, crossing their streams of urine. After they'd finished, Kyle and Hal gargled to freshen their breath, before they considered going back to bed while they still had time before the planned tour around New York. They were giggling like school kids as they played grab ass looking into the mirror. Before returning to bed, Kyle took the time to give his new lover a REAL good morning kiss and Hal responded by getting aroused again.
"You ready?" Hal exclaimed.
"You bet!"
"OK...one, two, three...GO!"
The two bolted from the bathroom and dived onto the bed and locked themselves into an embrace rolling over and over on the huge king-size bed.
"I love you!" Kyle said, in between kisses.
"Me, too, LOVER!" Hal replied.
When they had rolled as far as the bed would allow, Hal found himself on top of Kyle. Both men had full erections by now and were more than ready to make love when suddenly the bedroom door opened and Danny and Petey came rushing into the room and leaped up, both of them landing on Hal's naked back...both kids were laughing with excitement and glee.
Hal leaned close to Kyle's ear and asked, just above a whisper, "Should they be seeing us like this...I mean...naked and all?"
"They always did with Ryan and me."
"Yeah, but they...they were his adopted children..."
"I'd say that you've just been adopted by them."
Both kids began to bounce up and down on Hal. The three bodies were practically crushing Kyle who was on the bottom, but even worse, Hal's hard on was poking into Kyle's abdomen, each thrust harder than the one before which made Kyle laugh out loud.
"We're going to the Statue of Liberty!" Danny began to chant and Petey joined in.
"So much for a morning quickie!" Hal said.
"Uncle Hal?" Danny asked.
"Yeah?"
"Are you our daddy now?"
"I...I don't know. What do you think, Danny?"
"I think you are."
"Why?" Hal asked in a joking manner.
"Cause you slept with Daddy Kyle."
"Oh?"
"And that means you're married."
"Really?"
"Yep...and that means you're Daddy Hal, now."
Hal looked into Kyle's eyes warmly and replied, "Yes, Danny, I guess it does."
The boys resumed their bouncing and began to shout, "Daddy Hal! Daddy Hal! Daddy Hal!"
Kyle got a lump in his throat when he saw the tears of joy forming in Hal's eyes. Hal now, at long last, had a family and he'd never been happier.
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The meal Johnny had prepared for Art was delicious. Art was enchanted by seeing a gay family...two men and two twin boys...so happy together. He'd heard about gay marriages but had never seen one close up and all the doubts he'd ever been plagued by were instantly erased. Art marveled at the love he felt watching Jeff and Johnny as they had set the table, served the meal, all the while giving each other looks that would be difficult to describe in a Harlequin romance novel.
Jeff put the twins into their cribs for the night while Johnny got three snifters and poured brandy for Jeff, Art, and himself, and then invited Art into the den to continue their conversation concerning the business of building new villages for people with HIV and AIDS.
Art and Johnny sat in front of the small fire Johnny had lit to ease the edgy coolness of the autumn air in the room. Just as Jeff was about to join them, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Jeff?"
"Cliff?"
"Yes."
"What a nice surprise!" Jeff said. "It's always so great when you call."
"My news is not quite so pleasant," Cliff said.
"Dear Lord, Cliff, what's wrong now?"
"We've lost another of the Boys."
Jeff's heart sank.
"Who, Cliff? Which one?"
"Little Jake."
"Jake? Lee's brother?"
"Yes."
"HOW, Cliff? What happened?"
Cliff related the whole story in about five minutes and Jeff began to feel anger through his hurt feelings when he heard that Jake had been the victim of a hate crime. When Cliff had finished the details of the event, he asked, "Jeff, can you think of anyone who would hate me enough to want to hurt Billy and be cruel enough to cause Jake's death?"
"Off hand, I can only think of one."
"Really? Who, Jeff?"
"I know it's a long shot but it's highly possible that Chuck Brindley might be involved either directly or slightly, but still, I would mention his name to the Briarwood police."
"Yes, but I thought that that score was settled long ago...after you and Johnny debated Reverend Brindley."
"Chuck never got over it. He continued to hold a grudge against me and Johnny. I can't say for sure if he had anything to do with Jake's tragedy but he should be investigated just the same."
"Jeff, this is all so ironic...and that's why it's difficult for me to believe that Chuck was involved...you see, it was Chuck's mother who drove by shortly after Billy and Jake were attacked. SHE took them to the emergency room."
"That does seem a bit bizarre...still..."
"God's mysterious ways...I know."
"Cliff, should Johnny and I come down for Jake's funeral?"
"No, son, I know you'd have to do something with the twins...and after all, you were only with Jake and Lee for the first and only time when you were in Briarwood for Ryan's wake and service."
"How's Lee?"
"He feels lost and alone...extremely depressed, which is normal. Lee's been through quite a lot...his bout with AIDS, his father's death, his house in Texas mysteriously burning to the ground, and now this...losing his only brother."
"They...uh...shared the same bedroom at Tommy and Mike's, didn't they?"
"Yes, I believe they did."
"Then their relationship might have been deeper than any of us imagined."
"That's possible. In that case, Lee is really aching inside."
"Poor guy! I'll remember both of them in my mass next Sunday. Tell Lee that he's in my prayers."
"I will, son."
"Thank God he's got you, Roger, and the Briarwood Boys to help him through this!"
"We're doing all we can. It's tough on all of us after losing Ryan and Ed so recently."
"How's Kyle?"
"I haven't told Kyle about Jake and I'm not sure I will. He, Danny, Petey, and Hal left this morning for New York on their way to Europe."
"The way you said that sparked my curiosity. Is there something more than friendship between Kyle and Hal?"
"Truthfully, I think they're in love. I don't know if they know it yet, but I can see it in their eyes when they look at one another across a room or a dinner table."
"That would be wonderful for all four of them."
"Even though you and I are miles apart, we both think the same way."
"Dad was always wonderful to Alex and me. He was all either one of us could ever want for a father...until I met you and Roger. Suddenly, I had three fathers, then Dave came into Dad's life, and I had four dads in my life and found myself loving all of you equally."
"I've always known that, Jeff. I just never verbalized it as you just did."
"I'm glad you finally got to hear it out loud."
"Thanks, Jeff. Look, I know you're busy but I had to call to tell you about Jake and ask you about who might be the culprit. I will certainly call the police and tell them what you said about Chuck."
"As I said, Cliff, I might be totally wrong...but I just have a feeling..."
"You've always had feelings about everything and ninety-nine percent of the time, your feelings were dead-on accurate."
"My percentage was that high...really?"
"As high as Ivory soap...ninety-nine and forty-four-one-hundredths percent!"
"Wow!"
"Good night, Jeff."
"Good night, Cliff, and thanks for calling."
Their conversation ended and Cliff's mind began to race. 'Chuck Brindley? Could Jeff be right one more time?'. It was more than possible!
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(To be continued in "Briarwood"---BOOK EIGHT---Chapter-ninety).