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, 2006
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
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BOOK NINE
"A NEW HEAVEN AND A NEW EARTH"
Chapter Ninety-three
Look for small pleasures
That happen ev'ryday;
And not for fortune or fame.
Infinite treasures lie all a long the way.
As do candles waiting for flame.
How simple the joys at our finger tips,
This plain air we share is champagne one sips.
Look for small pleasures upon this ball of clay
And not for lightning to tame
And one day there's someone.
Just a friendly someone.
Who'll be husband or wife to you,
Be the love all your life to you;
And you'll find how great
Small pleasures can prove.
From the Broadway musical, "Ben Franklin In Paris"
Music by:, MARK SANDRICH JR.
Lyrics by:, SIDNEY MICHAELS.
Copyright: 1963
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It would be Hunter's secret until he was ready to tell Lee, but after an adventurous ride on the NYC Subway System, (taking three different trains), Hunter took Lee to a top-of-the-line gay clothing store in Greenwich Village. Lee didn't know it was a store exclusively for gay young men, but he was a bit alarmed by the flamboyant colored shirts and tight pants. The price on the duds were tres chic and exorbitant. Lee knew his nine-hundred dollars wouldn't buy much and he was very reticent about Hunter buying him items for his wardrobe. Nearly everything Hunter picked out for Lee to try on, Lee put it back on the rack almost immediately.
"Look Lee, if you want to apply for a good job, you've got to dress for the part. Besides, you can always pay me back IF and when you find employment," Hunter said, pulling out another pair of slacks with a matching shirt.
"Heck! It'll take me ten years to pay back the price of one shirt!" Lee replied.
"Well, if you take me up on my offer and work for me as my live-in companion, I'll see to it that you make enough money to buy anything you wish! One thing I learned from my dad, 'price is no an option to get what you want...".
"Would you believe that when Jake and I were kids, my mom actually made us shirts out of flowered feed sacks!"
"The only thing I can remember my mother ever making me was a martini when I was eleven years old. She said she hated to drink alone. So from sixth grade through junior high, I shared the cocktail hour with my mother."
"Damn, Hunter! It's a wonder you didn't become a teen alcoholic!"
"Well, I really hated the taste of liquor...ALL liquor, so when my mother wasn't looking, I would pour my drink into one of her potted orchid plants. She could never understand why her plants kept dying and she had to replace them nearly every week!"
"Hunter, I DO like that blue shirt," Lee exclaimed as he rushed to a rack halfway across the small store.
"Get it...only get a green one too, to match your brown eyes."
"Good Lord!" Lee shouted. "This one is four-hundred bucks! I don't like it THAT much!"
"Then, let me buy it for me for YOU to wear. I would love to see you walking around our townhouse in it. You'd be like a decoration to my eyes!"
"Doesn't this store have Levi 501's? I'm used to wearing jeans."
"I don't think they stock Levi's, but they have a good substitute...jeans made overseas...a little old Italian named Armani makes 'em."
"Where are they?"
"What size do you wear. I take a thirty waist and a thirty-four pant length."
"Thirty-thirty-four? That's what 'I' wear."
"I thought we were about the same size, Lee. I have tons of clothes in my closets, I've never taken out of the boxes."
"Then, let's go home and let me try some of them. They're already bought and paid for, I imagine. That way, we won't have to buy THESE expensive things."
"Lee? Would you, at least, try on a pair of Armani jeans...JUST FOR ME?"
"Oh, all right! Where are they?" Hunter went to the jeans display, found Lee's size and handed him a pair. "Uh, do they have a private place I can try 'em on?"
"Sure. Go to the back of the store and in through those curtains." Lee took the jeans and headed toward the back. While he was gone, Hunter made a quiet 'psst' to one of the handsome young sales clerks. "You got a minute?"
"For you...it'll take MORE than a minute!" The clerk spoke with a sexy sibilant gay-like lisp.
"I'll bet it would!" Hunter replied to the clerk.
"Is that your boyfriend with you?"
"For the moment...no. But, in the future...maybe..."
"He's a looker, all right."
"You noticed, too."
"Too bad he's not already your boyfriend! You two make a hot couple!"
"I wish..."
"How can I help you?"
"Follow me while I pick out a few shirts, pants, socks, underwear, et cetera and DON'T let him see you. I want these things delivered to my apartment. I'll give you the address."
"I see that you already have in mind, how you want him to look AFTER he becomes your boyfriend."
"Maybe..."
Hunter walked around the store, quickly, with the clerk following close behind him. The clerk was admiring Hunter's butt every step of the way. Hunter picked out twelve shirts of various colors and styles. Twelve pairs of trousers and the sexiest underwear in the store. Hunter kept a close eye on the changing room so that Lee would be unaware of the clandestine shopping spree. The clerk took all the clothes and placed them behind the counter while he tallied the total.
"That comes to four-thousand-seventy-two dollars."
"Here's my American Express card and here's the address," Hunter said, writing rapidly, just as Lee was coming out of the change room. Lee looked as if he was limping. "What's wrong? Don't the jeans fit?"
"Boy, they fit all right...like a rubber glove. I...I don't want to call your attention to it, but look at my crotch. These jeans are so tight, you can count my pubic hairs."
"I love 'em!" The clerk exclaimed, followed by a quick, "oops!"
"Jesus Christ, Lee! I hope THIS won't embarrass you, but guy, YOU'RE HUNG!"
Lee dropped his hands to cover his genital area. The tight pants plus the clerk's and Hunter's remarks had caused Lee to become slightly aroused...only the pants didn't allow enough room for an arousal. "Hunter, I could NEVER wear these where anyone could see me."
Before giving a second thought, once again, the clerk blurted out, "If you lived with me, I'd have you wear them around the house just so 'I' could see you all to myself!" Lee blushed even more and Hunter laughed.
"Lee, they're supposed to fit that tight. They're expandable and they'll fit to you like a leather glove, once you and the jeans get used to one another."
"How much are they?"
"Five hun..." the clerk started to say, but Hunter cut him off.
"They're on sale, Lee. They're twenty-nine-ninety five...plus tax."
"Heck, that's about how much jeans cost at J.C. Penney's in Fort Stockton. I'll take 'em if you're sure they'll stretch."
"That blue shirt you were looking at is last year's model, so it's on sale for twenty bucks!" Hunter lied.
"In that case, I'll take it, too...BUT I'm using my own money!" Lee announced privately.
Hunter gave the clerk a stern look. Twenty-nine-ninety-five and twenty dollars comes to forty-nine-ninety five...RIGHT?"
"Right, sir...plus tax. That'll be around fifty-four dollars."
"Sounds like you got yourself a good deal, Lee," Hunter said.
Lee looked into his billfold and handed the clerk two twenties, a ten, and a five dollar bill.
"I'd better go back and put my old clothes on if I don't want to be arrested."
Hunter laughed as Lee hobbled toward the back.
"Sir, you know that those items didn't come to fifty-four dollars, don't you?"
"If they make him happy, I wouldn't care if they were ten times that much! Just put the balance of whatever they came to on my credit card, if you get my drift."
"Is there something you'd like for yourself?"
"May I ask you name?"
"It's Arnie...I live on the lower east side and my phone number is five-eight.."
"That's all right, Arnie. That's more than I need to know...but, I'm sorry there's nothing I wish to purchase for myself. This may sound arrogant, but I've probably got more clothes in my closets which I've never worn than all the merchandise in your store."
"If you don't mind my saying this, but your friend must be daffy not to latch onto you ASAP."
"Actually, I DO mind...especially since he's not mine to have just yet."
"Well, if you ever need company, my phone number is five-eight..."
"Arnie, if I need your company, I can always reach you at this store, can't I?"
"Absolutely. I'm at your beck and call!"
"READY!" Lee shouted as he approached Hunter and Arnie.
"Yes, sir...and thank you sir! It's been a pleasure waiting on both of you!" The clerk put Lee's jeans and the blue shirt in a bag and Hunter and Lee left the store. The clerk was still gawking at them as they left.
"Where to, now, Hunter?"
"We have to head back to East Eighty-sixth Street. 'Eighty-Six Grocery' is where I buy my food. It's only three blocks from the house."
The two took an alternate route to the subway and Lee suddenly stopped. "Is that a replica of the Arch de Triumph?"
"No, Lee, that's the Washington Square Arch."
"Is this Washington Square?"
"It sure is..."
"My mom used to have an old record...a '45' of 'Washington Square', by the Village Stompers. She'd play it over and over, but I never thought I get to see the REAL Washington Square!"
"Take a good look! There it is."
"I wish I had a camera, but then, I...I have no one to send the picture to, now that Jake is gone."
"I have a camera or two. You can use them whenever you like. You can take as many pictures as you want and send them to the Briarwood Boys when you're ready to tell them where you are..."
"I COULD send some pictures to Mike and Tom."
"That's a GREAT idea. Now, are you ready to go shop for groceries? 'I'm' buying. It's my townhouse, for now, and there's not a thing in the place to eat! So don't go nagging when I buy lots and lots of groceries because WE'RE gonna need them!"
"Oh, all right."
After they had shopped for food, the total bill came to eleven-hundred-forty-two dollars and fifty-eight cents. Lee had never seen as many groceries bought at one time, not even in Briarwood. There were so many full sacks, Hunter had to beg Lee to let him hail a taxi to take the groceries three blocks. Lee refused to get into the cab and told Hunter he could walk the three blocks since he knew the address. Reluctantly, Hunter agreed. He took the taxi while Lee walked. Lee arrived twenty minutes later than Hunter. When Lee got to the townhouse, he rang the doorbell for Hunter to meet him.
"I...I forgot to give you a key. Here!" Hunter said, handing Lee a gold keychain with one single key on the ring.
"Are you sure?"
"You live here, don't you?"
"For now..."
"Well, I'm NOT going to answer the doorbell every time you come back from wherever you've been. The key is yours! I hope for a long, long time."
"You know, I know it's October, but today seems like Christmas to me," Lee said.
"Lee, if you decide to live with me on a permanent basis, EVERY day that you're here will seem like Christmas to me."
"That was a pretty strong statement to make, Hunter, for one who's never had anyone to care for."
"It DID seem strange for me to say that...but I meant it!"
"Hunter, you...you're not trying to...I don't know the expression, 'butter me up' so that you can put the make on me, are you?"
"No, Lee, I promised you I'd never do that. I wouldn't do ANYTHING to spoil the friendship we've built during the last twenty-four hours."
"That makes me feel better."
"You see, Lee, if I were going to put the make on you, there'd be no 'buttering you up'. I'd take you in my arms and kiss you."
"You mean you'd kiss me or anyone without being in love with him?"
Hunter dropped his eyes and looked at the floor. "Lee, I don't know what the fuck I'm feeling, but if I were to kiss you, it'd be MORE than a kiss to me."
"Heck! You're not falling for me, are you?"
"I...I don't know...but I MIGHT be..."
"In that case, I'm glad you didn't kiss me. I...I...You know I'm not ready for a gay relationship with any man...not even you. I...I still don't know if I'm gay or not."
"Don't worry, I'm definitely NOT going to kiss you. It'd probably mess up my mind more than yours."
"I think I understand..."
"Good. NOW, you've got to help me put away those tons of groceries in order that you'll know where everything is when I forget..."
"I didn't notice the cabinets in the kitchen. Do you think we have space for all of them?"
"Well, if we need more room...YOU'RE on the third floor. I'm on the first! If needs be, we'll use floors two and four for groceries!"
"Come on, let's get started, Hunter."
Lee passed by Hunter, standing in the doorway and headed toward the kitchen. Hunter was glad Lee had left. It gave Hunter time to adjust the erection in his pants. 'God damn! Am I really falling for the kid?' Hunter asked himself as he shut the front door.
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Normally, an hour-long conference call would have made Walter Clayton, Briarwood's leading and most successful attorney, reach for a bottle of scotch and a handful of Prozac at the same time. But 'this' conference call had been delightful as Walter had been chatting long distance to Mackintosh, New Hampshire, with his two sons, Jeff and Alex, and their two significant others, Johnny and Ted, plus Walter's two grandsons, little Cliff and little Roger had to speak to 'Grandpa Walt' as well.
Jeff had gone into vivid detail with his dad about Hal's, Kyle's, and little Petey and Danny's visit over the weekend. Johnny jumped into the conversation to tell Walter about Steve and Wade, two more Briarwood Boy additions. Ted asked his dad about Daddy David and Walter replied by saying everything was still going great between them.
They all made tentative plans for Walter and David to travel up to Mackintosh to spend Thanksgiving and maybe Christmas with their sons, sons-in-law and grandsons. When the family-telephone-get-together was finished, Walt had to get busy with a will he was preparing. Jeff had to get back to St. Aloysius, Johnny and Alex, back to the center, while 'Mayor' Ted Baxter had to get back to work at the Mackintosh city hall. The hour had gone by quickly for all of them, but the brotherhood and fellowship remained wonderful as usual.
Walter clicked off his speaker phone and a minute later, Ruth Nesbitt, Walter's secretary buzzed him to tell him that Roger Cole was on line-one for him.
"Hello?" Walter said.
"Hey, Buddy! This is Roger..."
"Do you think I don't know that voice after all these years?"
"It HAS been a lot of years, huh?"
"GREAT years, Rog."
"The reason I'm calling you has nothing to do with money, the Institute, or my estate this time."
"Does that mean I should relax?"
"No, you old ambulance chaser," Roger joked, "I need you to do me a favor..."
"Uh oh! Have I ever denied you anything?"
"I don't remember your agreeing to hop in bed with me," Roger laughed.
"That's because you never asked me, Mr. Moneybags! What can I do for you?"
"I COULD call Captain Jim O'Connor at the BPD, but I thought it best if you, as my attorney, could do it for me..."
"Captain O'Connor? No one is in trouble?"
"Well, one of Jim's inmates is."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Walt, Chuck Brindley was arrested for causing the death of Jake."
"CHUCK THREW THE ACID AT BILLY AND JAKE?...Old Pastor Brindley's son?"
"I'm afraid so, Walt."
"Are you going to prosecute? I mean, I'm sure you want me to represent Billy... AND Jake."
"Not at the moment. You see, Walt, Billy wants to visit Chuck in jail. I was wondering if you could arrange the meeting with Jim and go with Billy for the visit?"
"That doesn't seem wise, Rog, if you know what I mean."
"I know. I don't think it's wise either, but Billy has made plans of his own!"
"Such as?"
"Billy wants to forgive Chuck."
"You're kidding! Roger, I've never heard of such a thing."
"Billy did this of his own accord."
"Pardon the gulp in my voice, but that's one of the kindest, nicest things I've ever heard. It's obvious that Billy is yours and Cliff's son."
"You have two sons who would more than likely do the same thing."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. It DOES sound like something either Jeff or Alex would do."
"I just wanted you present for the meeting or at least close by."
"Are you and or Cliff going with Billy?"
"No, Billy asked Chris if HE would take him to the jail."
"Chris is back?"
"Last night..."
"How IS Chris, Roger?"
"Depressed, I'm sure, but he's ready to begin his work at St. Genesius, starting today."
"Bless his heart. When I see him, I'll ask if he'll come over to have dinner with David and me."
"I think Chris would like that, Walt. The more people he sees, the sooner he'll feel better."
"David and I will see what we can do to cheer him up."
"Thanks, Walter."
"So? How soon do you want me to arrange the meeting between Billy and Chuck?"
"Today, if possible."
"I don't see how Jim could refuse us. After all, I can modestly say that you, Cliff, and me have become a triumvirate in Briarwood when it comes to getting what we want."
"MODESTLY?"
"Hell, Rog, the three of us could move those mountains Cliff talks about in his sermons. Well, maybe not MOVE them, but I'm sure as hell you could buy the mountains and THEN we could move them!"
"Now, that sounds like my best friend talking!"
"Roger, I know Cliff is number one in your life as is David in mine, but it's an honor being your best friend."
"HA! That sounds as if you're hitting on me, you old codger!"
"OLD? WHO'S OLD? The four of us are going to live forever!"
"You may be right, Walter...you just may be."
"Let me give Jim a call and I'll get back with you ASAP!"
"Thanks, dear heart!"
Their conversation ended and Walt asked Ruth to get Jim O'Connor on the phone. Walter was right. There was no way in hell that Jim could deny him, Cliff, or Walter anything. Roger had paid for Jim's wife, Catherine, to have successful ovarian cancer surgery at the Institute without Jim having to pay a penny. Jim had the same moment of disbelief when Walter told him the reason for Billy's visit to see Chuck.
Jim O'Connor was an old Irish policeman who had been head of the Briarwood Police Department for over twenty years. He was from the old country and in all his years of policeman's duties, he had never heard of a fifteen-year-old kid...or ANYONE for that matter, wanting to forgive his attacker. The idea of such a proposal brought a tear to Jim's eyes. He asked Walter if Billy could be at the jail around three o'clock and Walter said that would be fine.
Next, Walter called Roger to tell him about the proposed meeting in less than two hours. Roger, in turn, called Chris at the church and Chris said he would come over to Roger's immediately to pick up Billy.
Billy was all showered, shaved, and dressed by the time Chris arrived. As Billy started to leave, Roger looked at his son and said, "Now, Billy, I don't know how Chuck will act or react when he sees you, but for God's sake, don't make him angry with you. Chuck is probably remorseful for what he did to you and Jake, but remorse often times is accompanied by belligerence. I'm not sure if you'll be in the same room with Chuck. He might be behind bars or there could be a glass window or a heavy wire fence separating the two of you. Just remember, Father Chris, Walter, and Captain O'Connor will be close by and you'll be protected at all times."
"Didn't you leave someone out, Daddy Roger?"
"Sure, there's a whole squad of policemen there as well."
"I didn't mean a squad of policemen...I meant, God. Won't He be there to protect me?"
"Of course, son..."
"Even though God didn't protect Jake from Chuck. He protected me from the acid."
"Billy, we still have to talk about that...you, me, and Daddy Cliff."
"I'm not mad at God."
"I'm sure you're not."
"I'm just a little confused, that's all."
"Billy, I'm sure Daddy Cliff will set you straight on that."
"I know. Daddy Cliff has an open line to God. They talk to each other all the time. I'm sure God'll explain it to Daddy Cliff and then Daddy Cliff will tell me what HE said."
"Be brave, young man! Chris is here."
"I will."
Chris entered the front door and stood there watching Roger and Billy, silently.
"Billy, did I fail to mention how proud Daddy Cliff and I are of you?"
"Not out loud, but I knew you were proud, just the same."
"Come here and give this daddy a hug before you leave. Dear God, how I love you, Billy!"
"I've always known that...from the time you and Daddy Cliff adopted me."
Billy ran into Roger's arms, gave him a big hug while Roger kissed Billy on top of his head. Chris choked back a tear from what he had just witnessed.
"Ready, Counselor?" Chris said, standing beside the front door.
Billy took a deep breath, followed by a huge swallow, and went out the front door to Chris' car to go see Chuck in the Briarwood County Jail.
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Lee insisted on cooking his and Hunter's first real meal together. Dinner was simple, mostly home cooked Texas dishes. The recipes had actually made their way across the Rio Grande River, consisting primarily of Mexican hot spicy items, such as chili rellenos, tacos, Spanish rice, and fiery refried beans.
Hunter's mouth, tongue, and lips were burning like hellfire, but he ate every bite on his plate without a word of criticism.
"Want some more?" Lee asked.
"No, I think I've had MORE than enough. I just hope the feeling comes back to my tongue before breakfast."
Lee laughed, "Too hot for you?"
"Just a teeny bit," Hunter replied.
"I'll let you in on a little secret before you find out for yourself," Lee teased.
"What?"
"It's hot going down your gullet, but it burns even worse when it comes out of your asshole."
"Are you serious?" Hunter asked, surprisingly dismayed.
"Serious as erectile dysfunction."
"Christ! How do you know about that?"
"It's advertised on TV at least once an hour."
"Lee, seriously...do you think it would help if I lubricated my rectum now with aloe or some kind of salve for burns like Unguentine?"
"That won't help. Jake and I used to play tricks on one another by pouring more Tabasco or hot sauce on the other's food when he wasn't looking. Believe me, Hunter, Jake and I tried EVERYTHING to alleviate the shit burn."
"Then, were you playing a joke on me or were you really trying to set my ass on fire? Why did you cook such hot food?"
"Mexican food is about all I know how to cook."
"In that case, I'll be eating cold cereal or Cream of Wheat for the rest of the week!"
"I won't consider it to be a gay thing on my part, but when you're ready to take a dump, I WILL hold your hand for support."
"Then, you're gonna apply some kind of sunburn ointment to my anus?"
"I won't go that far. Your anus is off limits for me. That would be a little bit TOO gay."
"That reminds me of the old adage, 'you won't know your true friends until you've been bitten on the dick by a rattlesnake'!"
"I've heard that one, too and I've often thought what I'd do if some friend of mine like Tom or Mike got bitten, would I suck the poison out of his dick."
"You said you've often thought about it. Did you ever reach a conclusion what you'd do?"
"I'd probably do it because if a dick gets bitten by a rattlesnake, the dick might swell up, but it won't be a real erection."
"I'll remind you of that if I'm ever bitten while we're strolling through Central Park."
"There's rattlesnakes in Central Park, right in the middle of New York City?"
"Maybe not rattlesnakes, but did you ever see that movie, 'Anaconda' where a twenty-five footer gets loose in Central Park and kills half the cast before the movie is over?"
"NO! But if there ARE anacondas loose in Central Park, I'll never go there!"
"Silly! It was just a dumb-ass 'b' movie based on a dumb-ass 'b' paperback novel. It's fiction like your 'DaVinci Code'."
"Hunter, I'm sorry if you didn't like the meal I fixed. I wanted to make you something special for all the nice things you did for me today...like taking me to buy a new pair of jeans and a new shirt."
"I still wish you'd've let me pay for them. I mean, fifty-four bucks out of your limited bankroll could have bankrupted you."
"Oh, I've still got over eight-hundred dollars in my billfold."
"I didn't know that. You're practically rich!"
"You're condescending me, aren't you? My meager eight-hundred dollars is like mere pennies compared with your bank account."
"Didn't you see all the panhandlers on the streets today? The drunks? The ones passed out on the sidewalks?"
"Yes...it was sad."
"Well, your eight-hundred dollars to them is like the money my dad put in my bank account. To any of them, you ARE rich!"
"I didn't think about it that way."
"SAY! What would you like to do on your first evening in New York?"
"Heck! I don't know," Lee replied. "If I weren't with you, where would YOU go tonight?"
"Truthfully?"
"Always truthfully. Don't ever lie to me, Hunter, because I don't lie or even know how to lie."
"Well, if I were by myself, I'd probably take a cab OR a subway and go bar hopping to a few gay bars."
"If that's what YOU'D like to do, go ahead. I can stay here and read my novel."
"NO! I want to show you some places in New York at night. The city is much different in the night than the day."
"How late does the Empire State Building stay open?"
"Until around midnight, I think. I haven't been there for years. We could walk to the top or take an elevator."
"That's a possibility..."
"Can I ask you something personal?"
"Sure."
"Have you EVER been to a gay bar?"
"Nope. I've never had a reason to go to one...besides, I'm not much of a drinker. Drinking is one of those things that my Dad drove into Jake's and my head about being a sure-fire way of going to hell!"
"Do you like to dance?"
"I don't know. I used to watch Mike and Tom dance, but I never tried it myself."
"Jesus! Your dad must've made yours and Jake's lives hell."
"Oh, Dad was a Bible thumper, but he didn't believe in Satan's hell with all the fires and brimstone."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Dad said going to hell meant being away from God...and that was much worse than physical punishment. That was another joke because Dad used to beat Jake and me nearly every night while we lived with him in Fort Stockton."
"And now that your dad is dead, you'll never have to be beaten again. You lived to be ABOVE physical punishment."
"That's what I thought until that bastard threw acid into Jake's eyes and killed him."
"Why did he do it, for God's sake?"
"He thought that Father Cliff's and Roger Cole's son, Billy, and Jake were gay boyfriends."
"It was a gay hate crime?"
"So to speak."
"Was Jake gay? I mean, were he and Billy boyfriends?"
"No, they weren't boyfriends. Jake had had sex...gay sex, but only with me. Being brothers and only having each other, we did what most brothers do, according to the psychology books I read from the Cole Library."
"And did neither of you ever have gay sex with anyone else?"
"Nope. I'm sure some people would say Jake and I were involved in incest, but I LOVED Jake and he loved me."
"Fuck what people say!"
"We did. I had a long cry the day Jake was killed. I knew that what he and I were doing was probably a sin...at least, my dad would have said it was. Then when I heard about his death...I began to believe that God had punished the both of us for that sin."
"God! You've really had it rough, Lee. I'm so sorry and I only wish there was something I could do to make you feel better."
"Well, I guess I'm ahead of you on that score."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I loved Jake and probably we were in love with each other. I've known love, but you, apparently, never have."
"Touche! I suppose there's a lot we can learn from each other."
"I've been watching you and learning from you since we met at the Cinnabon Bar yesterday."
"What have you learned thus far?"
"That money...YOUR money can't solve your loneliness."
"You mean my loneliness is that apparent?"
"I knew it when you hugged me."
"Lee, that hug was more than 'just a hug' from me. When I embraced you, I felt something I'd never felt in my life." Hunter paused before continuing. "Lee, did you feel something special with that hug?"
"Yes...and I don't want to hurt your feelings."
"You won't. I, actually, have no feelings."
"Well, the whole time we were hugging, I kept thinking how much I miss Jake. It was as if, it wasn't you, I was holding in my arms, but, my brother."
"That doesn't hurt my feelings. If anything, it makes me MORE envious of my not having a brother like Jake to love."
"I, sincerely, hope you DO find someone to love, Hunter. Once you do, your whole life will change."
"I...I think you're right."
The two stopped talking for a minute or two to let the conversation sink in and for them to gaze in the other's eyes. When the brief moment had concluded, Lee said, "Let me wash all the dishes and the pots and pans I dirtied and let's head down to the Empire State Building."
"You're on, roommate! I need to go to the bathroom...BUT if you hear me screaming, just know that I'm all right...my ass is burning from a chili relleno!"
They both arose from the kitchen table. Lee started gathering the dirty dishes while Hunter walked slowly down to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and leaned back on it. That's the moment Hunter broke down in tears. In all of his years as a rich brat, no one had ever made him feel so penniless and useless as this kid from Texas. Something was happening to Hunter and it scared the hell out of him to think, at long last, he was falling in love. With all of his wealth and social status, Hunter could have any guy or girl on the planet if he wanted them...so why was he falling for this almost destitute boy from Fort Stockton, Texas? Worse yet, what could he do or offer Lee to make him feel the same way? Did he have a chance with Lee? WOULD Lee let Hunter into the world that Lee had only experienced with his younger dead brother? Was gay sex completely out of the question...for now and ever? Suddenly, Hunter hated himself for being so rich, expecting everything to fall into his lap whenever he chose it. If he were on the same social par with Lee, would or could Lee love him? Hunter realized how stupid these questions were because HE, himself knew nothing about love.
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Walter, Chris, and Billy were all standing in front of Captain Jim O'Connor's desk in his private office at ten 'til three. Jim was offering three scenarios about where the proposed meeting between Billy and Chuck should take place.
"Billy, I think I know how you feel as I've been in the policeman's uniform nearly all of my life. I've observed criminals and their victims, but as I told your dad, Roger, yours is the first such confrontation I've ever encountered. First, son, I want you to know how brave you are..."
"Thank you, sir," replied Billy.
Jim continued, "...but I must remind you that even though you knew Chuck Brindley as your fellow classmate, you and you alone should know how dangerous he can be. I'm sure Walter and Father Chris know all about the bad reputation that goes along with being a preacher's son. I can't fathom why Pastor Brindley's son could be as vicious as he was to take the life of Jake. On the other hand, when you get right down to it, Billy, you too are a preacher's son and you don't fit into that mold."
"Yes, but don't you remember that I shot both my parents?" Billy asked, quietly.
"That was entirely a different reason. YOUR life and safety were at risk. You didn't maliciously kill either one of your parents. What Chuck did was down right evil!"
"I know, but Daddy Cliff, preaches in his sermons that there is no crime or sin too big for God to forgive. I'm not God, but, but I feel it would make Chuck feel better to know that I forgive him. I prayed about it and I came to the conclusion that it might change Chuck into a better person."
"All right, now here's three ways we can do this...maybe even more. You can talk with Chuck through a wire screen...the kind you've seen on television. Or we have accommodations for you to talk to him over a phone while looking at him through a glass window."
"And the third?"
"You could meet him face-to-face in one of the interrogation rooms. There would be an armed policeman with you and perhaps, it would be best if Walter, your dads lawyers to be at your side."
"Which would you recommend, Captain O'Connor?" Billy asked.
"The chain fence or the bulletproof glass."
"I...I think I'd like to meet him in that room...face-to-face, only I want Father Chris to be there too."
"OH?" Jim asked, puzzled.
"Because if everything goes as planned...and IF Chuck accepts my forgiveness, I want Father Chris to bless him."
The three adults shook their heads with disbelief and wonder by the courage of this fifteen year-old. The three cast an eye at one another.
"You mentioned Chris, Billy, what about me? Do you want me there at your side as well?" Walter asked.
"Sure. Since Daddy Roger went to all of the trouble to get you to arrange this meeting, I'm sure he'd want to get his money's worth by having me legally represented.
Jim looked at Walter and laughed. "Walt, are you sure Roger didn't sire this kid at conception? He talks the same way Roger talks when it comes to money."
"He's Roger Cole, Junior, that's for sure," Walter replied.
"AND Cliff Cole, Junior, as well!" Chris added.
"OK, Billy, I'll go have Chuck escorted to one of the interrogation rooms and I'll come back to get the three of you," Jim said, leaving his office.
"Uncle Walt?"
"Yes, Billy?"
"What will happen to Chuck if he's found guilty?"
"That, Billy, is left up to the jury and the judge."
"I mean, he won't get the death penalty, will he?"
"Billy, in our state, Chuck is old enough to be tried as an adult and if the jury finds to put him to death...well, the law must be obeyed."
"Yeah, but if I had been convicted for the murder of my parents, could 'I' have been sent to the gas chamber?"
"No, son. As Captain O'Connor said to you, you were only defending yourself. You didn't act in premeditated murder."
"Premeditated murder? Is that when someone kills someone on purpose?"
"Exactly. Whether Chuck drove down the street premeditating whether to kill Jake or you, the fact remains, he had the acid with him to invoke bodily harm. That in itself is premeditation. The consequence caused Jake's death and the jury will consider the danger of the acid and the outcome which followed and in effect, it was premeditated murder. After all, it wasn't like Chuck threw a cup of Coca-Cola or a Slurpee from the Seven-Eleven. Acid is and can be lethal. Chuck used it as a weapon not a prank."
"Wow! Chuck is in serious trouble, isn't he?"
"I'm afraid so, Billy. I'm afraid so."
Just then, Jim O'Connor stuck his head inside his office door and said to Billy, Walter, and Chris, "We're ready, gentleman."
"Thanks, Jim," Walter replied.
The four walked down the hallway of the police station/jail about twenty feet to the first room on the right. Before Jim opened the door, he turned and spoke to Walter.
"Walt, I've already advised Chuck that this meeting is not an official or legal interrogatory session and certainly not a deposition. I've told him that he's not required to say anything or answer any questions. The Miranda Law is not in effect here and should Chuck say anything, it will not be used against him in a court of law. So, to keep everything legal and on the up and up, and since you are the legal representative of the Cole family, you will not be allowed to ask any questions at all. This session is to be between Billy and Chuck and nothing else. I'm sure you understand this."
"Yes, Jim, I do. I, fully, understand."
"All right, we can go in now...Inside, I have officer Brady in charge, so I'll dismiss myself and not attend this conversation."
Billy, Walter, and Chris entered the freshly painted gray room which made the atmosphere seem cold and cheerless. Chuck Brindley was seated at a long office-sized table. His hands were cuffed in front of him and his legs were shackled with leg irons connected by a thick chain. Officer Brady was standing in a corner behind Chuck. Brady, Walter, and Chris exchanged silent 'hello' nods.
When Chuck looked up to see whom his visitors were, he immediately let out a snide remark, "Well, well, well! If is isn't Briarwood's littlest faggot and two of his tall queer body guards?" He didn't know Chris, but looked straight at him and said, "What'd YOU do? Stay up all night, fucking some man and accidentally put your collar on backwards when you dressed?"
Chris ignored him and looked down at the floor. Billy approached the table and very softly, said, "Hello, Chuck..."
"What the fuck do you want, queer? Come to gloat at seeing me in chains?" Chuck sneered.
"No...I..." Billy was caught off guard and was nervous. This meeting had been HIS idea and now he was sorry almost immediately. "I came to see how you're doing?"
"What the fuck do you care how I'm doing? Did you assume that since I'm already a prisoner, locked up in jail, that some other prisoner has already butt fucked me and you came to get a piece of my ass?"
"Billy, that's crazy and you know it! No one wants to do anything sexually to you...ESPECIALLY me!"
"Then, WHY ARE YOU HERE?" Chuck shouted. "I mean, YOU'RE supposed to be dead... not that other little twerp."
"His name was Jake, Chuck."
"He WAS queer, wasn't he?"
"I really don't know, Chuck!"
"He was talking to you and walking you to school, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was."
"Then that means he was a queer. Queers draw other queers to themselves the way shit draws flies on a hot sidewalk."
"Chuck, I need to know. Why were you trying to attack me?"
"For the same reason Jack was..."
"Jake!"
"WHAT?"
"Jake! Not Jack!"
"Jake! Snake! Jack! Smack! What's the difference."
"The main difference is...that I'm alive and Jake isn't...because of you!"
"Well, if I get out of here, maybe you'll be the lucky one next time...since JAKE is gone."
"Chuck, when you threw the acid, was it because you hated me."
"I sure as hell don't LOVE you, if that's what your getting at!"
"Why do you hate me? Have I done something to cause this hatred?"
"I hate everything you and your kind stand for."
"Like what?"
"Your dad is a preacher...a millionaire preacher and my dad is a preacher and he can hardly afford to pay the mortgage on our house!"
"You hate me because of my money?"
"That's ONE reason..."
"And another?"
"You're queer! That's the main reason. Hitler was right! When he decided to gas the Jews, he killed a lot of queers at the same time."
"Why do you hate queers so much?"
"Because what you do is wrong. You know what my greatest fear is, by being incarcerated? I know I can be found guilty and I also know that I can be sent to the gas chamber. They'll convict me as a murderer...then I'll die in the state house and I'll go straight to hell. Even that doesn't scare me...but the idea that Jake will already be there for being a queer, means I'll spend all of eternity with a faggot!"
Officer Brady rolled his eyes toward the ceiling at Chuck's ignorance.
"Don't you think that your dad, Pastor Brindley will pray for your soul to go to heaven?"
"I'm not even sure that my dad believes in heaven or hell. Shit! I ain't even sure he believes in God!"
"Your dad has a lot of parishioners who go to his church to hear him preach the teachings of the Bible."
"HA! He gets up in the pulpit and scares the hell out of everybody so that they will be too frightened to come back the following Sunday. Then he puts a real guilt trip on all who listen to him to give more money in the collection plate. All those assholes on TV, do the same thing...Paul Crouch and his demented purpled haired whore, Benny Hinn, that voodoo Hindu, Joel Osteen, who probably fucks every woman who comes down to his altar. I'm sure guys like yourself hate Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson as much as I, but for different reasons. Jimmy Swaggert lost all his millions for jerking off in front of a prostitute. Billy Graham died many years ago, and they still prop up his embalmed body to keep the cash flowing in. Then that other fellow, Jim Bakker, who was married to Tammy Faye...the one who now thinks queers are wonderful...Jim went to prison for confiscating zillions of dollars and having sex with Jessica Hahn when it turned out he was really sucking cocks in private."
"I don't know half the people you just mentioned, but WHY ME? Do you know I'm a faggot? Do you have any proof? Has anyone ever told you for certain that I'm gay?"
"Gay? That's the word! All queers are gay! A straight guy can't even use that word in its actual context any more..."
"WELL, DO YOU HAVE ANY PROOF?" Billy asked, rather forcefully.
"I...well, I don't have any actual proof, but if you see a white horse galloping down the street...it's obvious it's a horse and it's obviously white..."
"You mean you can tell I'm gay just by looking at me?"
"Any straight guy can spot a queer blind-folded."
"How? The way a gay walks? Talks? The clothes that he wears?"
"A combination of ALL those things. Except some queers go a step farther!"
"What do you mean?"
"It probably didn't bother you, but my dad made me sit in front of the television to watch a two hour gay pride parade."
"Neither of my dads would ever make ME do that. WHY?"
"To show me how idiotic faggots look in person. They claim they're expressing themselves with gay pride and the ones on TV are all wearing dresses, high-heel shoes, carrying purses, wearing makeup, and women's wigs. What are they trying to do, show how effeminate they are and how they all want to look like women?"
"Not all."
"Well, the ones in the parade did that."
"Have you ever seen any gay body builders?"
"You mean the ones with the big muscles to compensate for their tiny dicks? Sure, I know they fall in love with their own bodies and in turn fall in love with other bodybuilders' bodies."
"And you don't think ANY of those people deserve to be alive?"
"FUCK NO! They should ALL be taken on a boat and sent to Dachau and burned in one of Hitler's ovens. They're freaks and should be taken out of the public spotlight. They don't deserve to be seen, much less live."
"So, throwing acid at me was your way of trying to get rid of me...even though you weren't sure I was gay and especially since I had never done ANYTHING bad to you or your friends?"
"I was trying to make an example out of you. As rich and popular as you are, killing you would be a warning for all the rest of the queers, here in Briarwood, and all the way around the world!"
"Chuck, are you the least bit sorry that Jake died after your throwing acid on him?"
"I'm just sorry that it hit him and you ducked...like the faggot, you are."
"Chuck, I realize that this meeting between us has gone on longer than Captain O'Connor wants..."
"So, you still haven't told me why the fuck you came by!"
"I...I only came by to tell you...that I forgive you. Even if you had hit me with the acid instead of Jake, I would still forgive you."
Chuck was stunned. He didn't have a contemptuous comeback. Finally, Chuck spoke. "Oh, I get it! You're trying to show me that Anglicans are better Christians than evangelicals!! Smart move, kid!"
"I...I just thought that you needed a friend."
"FRIEND? WHO? YOU?"
"I would like to be your friend. I'd even like to come by and visit you without my two bodyguards, as you called them."
"WHY, FOR FUCK'S SAKE? You're trying to show me that you can turn the other cheek like Jesus said to do?"
"From what you've said, Chuck, I can only figure that your home life is not exactly happy. You must hate the world and everybody in it. I'd...I'd like to show you that someone could care for you."
"YEAH, and while you're sitting there saying a prayer over me, your right hand is probing my zipper to pull my dick out!"
Chris couldn't be silent any longer and said, "Chuck, listen to Billy! He's being honest and sincere. If he says he wants to be your friend, he means it. If you've got no one else on your side, Billy would be a good friend in your corner...and NO, he wouldn't probe inside your zipper. Gays don't attack straight guys, in spite of your concept of homosexuals!"
"Uh...all right, let me think about it. Give me a couple of days and let me work a few things out in my mind," Chuck said, solemnly.
"Then there's a chance you MIGHT let me come visit you?" Billy asked.
"I DIDN'T SAY YES!"
"But you didn't say 'no' either."
"OK! Can I go back to my cell now?" Chuck asked Officer Brady.
"Sure, if you're through with your visitor."
"I'm MORE than through with him," Chuck blared, standing up.
"Then, let's go, tough guy..." Officer Brady said, putting one hand under Chuck's bicep to lead him. The two of them walked toward the door leading to the cells and Billy stopped them.
"Thanks for letting me come by, Chuck," Billy said.
"Huh...yeah...sure..."
Walter walked over to where Billy was sitting and put an arm around Billy's shoulder.
"Well, he can't say you didn't try, Billy."
"Chuck is a very angry young man, filled with hate, which I'm sure his father put there," Chris added.
"Do you think I meant it when I told him I forgave him?"
"I'm not sure, son, but I hope so. You did everything you could to offer him compassion and friendship," Chris said. "Maybe in a day or two, Chuck will let this visit sink in and he'll let you come by more often."
<><><><><><><><>
Around 7:30pm, thirty minutes before jail visiting hours were over, that same night, Pastor Brindley came by the jail to see his son and pray for and with him. Chuck joined in the prayer with his dad, but only half-heartedly. If the truth be known, it was Pastor Brindley whom had put so much hatred for gays in Chuck's mind and heart.
'A lot of good a prayer will do me,' Chuck thought to himself. 'I've committed a murder! I murdered one the so-called 'Briarwood Boy's' and no jury will ever show me leniency by my trying to defend myself against Roger Cole and his queer priest boyfriend. I'm doomed for hell, no matter what!'
When Pastor Brindley finished his prayer he asked Chuck if there was anything he needed from home?
"Not really, Dad," Chuck replied, then he quickly added, 'there IS one thing."
"What is it, son?"
"I wish I had one of those long-distance credit cards. You know, the kind they sell on those racks at the supermarket..."
"Who would you like to call, Chuck?"
"Oh, several people. Grandma, for instance, I'd like for her to hear my side of what happened. Aunt Julia...Cousin Marv...you know, FAMILY!"
"That's not only nice, son, but it's courageous. I have one of those cards in my wallet. Call as many friends and family members as you like. I'm sure they'd love hearing from you and I think it would be good for your soul to tell the truth. As our Lord said, 'If you confess your sins before man, then Christ will confess your sins before his Father which is in heaven!"
Pastor Brindley pulled his wallet out of his hip pocket and pulled out the credit card and handed it to Chuck. Chuck thanked his dad and Pastor Brindley left by saying he would return in the morning with home made breakfast from his mother.
At 2:00am, the following morning, Officer Curtis found Chuck lying on the bed of his cell, lifeless. There was a large pool of blood which had spilled alongside Chuck's bed and halfway across the jail cell floor. In spite of all precaution by Captain O'Connor's careful watch crew, Chuck had succeeded by finding his own self guilty, thus rendering his own execution by slicing across his jugular vein on the left side of his neck with the long-distance credit card. Although Jake's murder was not exonerated by a judge and jury, justice was served at the end.
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(To be continued in Book Nine, Chapter 94 of "Briarwood: A New Heaven And A New Earth").