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-six
Its autumn in New York
That brings the promise of new love.
Autumn in New York
Is often mingled with pain.
Lovers that bless the dark,
On the benches in central park,
Greet autumn in New York.
Its good to live it again.
"Autumn in New York"
Vernon Duke
copyrighted 1934
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"La da da da...la da da da...la da da dee da..." Hunter sang.
"What's that tune? I've heard it before..." Lee said.
"It's the theme from the movie, 'The Dark at the Top of the Stairs'."
"That movie came out in the early sixties. How do you remember a tune THAT old?"
"I told you, it's one of my favorite films. You said, yourself, that you'd seen it on TV about a dozen times."
"Well, I have."
"Okay, can you hum, 'Tara's Theme' from 'Gone With The Wind'?"
"Sure, who can't?"
"Well, the same guy that wrote 'Tara's Theme', Max Steiner, also wrote 'la da da da...la da da da...la da da dee da'!" Hunter replied.
"Sheez! How do you know so much?"
"I told you. I was born to be in show business. I'll bet I know ten-thousand Broadway songs and Hollywood themes."
"Yeah, but they won't be using that theme in Timmy's play, will they?"
"No, but it gets me in the mood for the character. They played that in the movie during the scene between Reenie and Sammy."
"But if you're gonna audition for the musical, don't you have to audition with a song? I mean 'la da da da' isn't exactly lyrics."
"No, but if I walk on stage to audition and I'm la da deeing, then the director and producer, IF he knows anything about the movie, will know immediately how familiar I am with the movie."
"Whatever..." Lee replied, giving up. "What song will you sing for the audition?"
"Well, Sammy is Jewish. He's sad and lonely. I might sing, 'Far From The Home I Love' from 'Fiddler on the Roof'...or a song that Anthony Perkins sang in 'Greenwillow', 'Never Will I Marry'! It's the kind of song that Sammy might sing. IF Sammy has a solo, I'm sure that Timmy will have written something similar for him."
"You know, in the movie, when Sammy comes to take Reenie on a date, I could imagine them singing, 'Sixteen Going On Seventeen'..."
"And you say you AREN'T gay! Lee you just passed the first test in show tunes! That's a great idea!"
"It is...?"
"Turn around and let me see how your new clothes fit you!"
Lee turned around slowly as if he were some fashion model. "The pants ARE a bit tight!"
"That's the look I wanted to see you in. When we walk into that French restaurant tonight, I want every gay guy in the place to be envious of my date. Sweetheart, I want to show you off!"
"Good gracious! I feel as if I'm about to be auctioned off at a slave market!"
"Don't you worry! I can outbid every person who bids on you!"
"Hunter? Aren't there any McDonald's or Wendy's in New York?"
"Dozens! But your Big Mac days are over as long as you live with me."
"Can I ask you something else about these clothes?"
"Sure."
"You said that I'd turn every gay guy's head in the pants. Do you think a girl might find me attractive in them?"
"From the way that big piece of meat you have, protrudes in those pants, girls might just faint by stretching their necks to get a better look!"
"Damn! I'm going upstairs and change into something looser. I don't want gay guys gawking at me and girls fainting over my dick!"
"Maybe not! But you're wearing them as a favor to me."
"Oh, ALL RIGHT!" Lee exclaimed. "I suppose you want to take another taxi!"
"I could order a limo..."
"No, I'll go in a taxi, IF you won't get into an argument with the cab driver like you did before!"
"Lee, that cab driver and I weren't arguing. That's the way ordinary New Yorkers talk to one another. The traffic is always so noisy, one has to raise his voice or scream to be heard. So, are you ready?"
"Except for a jacket! Which one do YOU want me to wear?"
"The tan suede, of course."
Lee ran upstairs and donned the jacket and hurried back down. Halfway down the last flight of stairs, Hunter had him stop.
"Hold it, right there!" Hunter said.
"Now what?"
"I just wanted to take a good look at you descending the stairs and tell you how absolutely handsome you are! If this were fifteen or twenty years ago, Calvin Klein would have replaced Marky Mark for you. You really look snazzy and elegant at the same time."
"How are my balls hanging?" Lee smirked in half jest.
"Like a Texas longhorn!"
"Well, that's the only thing you've said I can equate to..."
"Come on, Joe Buck!"
"Ah no! You're too pretty to be Ratso Rizzo!" Lee replied.
"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Lee."
"I...I have one more thing to say to you before we leave..."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Thank you, Hunter. Thank you for taking me in and buying me all these things when I felt I had no future and was without a friend in the world."
Hunter was stunned by Lee's remark. He didn't give Lee an opportunity to refuse as he walked up the stairs to meet Lee and kissed him on the lips.
"I know I shouldn't have done that, Lee, but I couldn't find words to respond to yours."
"It's OK," Lee said, kissing Hunter quickly again. "Now let's go."
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Roger had reserved a small private dining room at the French restaurant to accommodate all six in his party. The atmosphere of the main outer dining room was decorated as a French bistro...checkered tablecloths, kiosks, separating each table from the other with posters of classic French entertainers when they had appeared in Paris. The walls were plastered with Toulouse-Lautrec reproductions. In the corner was a small combo, complete with guitar and concertina, playing familiar French street songs, 'La Vie En Rose', 'Under Paris Skies', 'Dis Donc' from 'Irma La Douce', etc.
In the private dining room, the decor was more French Provincial with white table cloths. The furniture was all white with gold filigree as was the tableware and dishes. The knives, forks, and spoons were gold-plated. On the walls were a dozen small imitation Degas ballet paintings and the piped-in music was a combination of Ravel and Debussy opera. Rob, Tim, and their temporary ward, Marc were already seated at the table when Cliff, Roger, and Billy arrived.
"Bon soir!" Rob greeted the three who were entering.
"Et bonsoir à toi!" Roger replied, heartily.
The three at the table arose and greeted the three who were standing with an obligatory two-cheek, French kiss.
"This place is wonderful, Rog!" Cliff exclaimed.
"Only the best for my 'famille'!" Roger answered as they all took their seats.
Billy hadn't taken his eyes off Marc since he entered the room. He made certain that he would be seated next to Marc.
"Uncle Roger, Father Cliff, Billy," Rob continued, "I want all three of you to meet young Marc Carlton, our guest from Hollywood, California!" Then Rob turned to Marc. "Marc, these two older gentlemen are like Tim's and my fathers...Roger and Cliff Cole...and their son, Billy Cole!"
Everyone exchanged 'Pleased to meetyas!', but Billy couldn't keep his eyes off Marc. Rob had told Billy at the airport that Marc was sixteen years old, but it was difficult for Billy to believe. When Marc arose to meet everyone, Billy observed that Marc was no taller than five-foot-three...even shorter than Michael J. Fox! Marc's face, though little, looked like a China doll. His face, immaculate complexion, deep-set, emerald green eyes, perfect-shaped nose with dark brown hair and brows. A George Lucas' computer-generated-image couldn't have plotted out a more beautiful and handsome face for a sixteen-old-boy...and Billy was awestruck by it.
While the adults were talking gossip about the other Briarwood Boys, this gave Billy a chance to strike up his own conversation with Mark.
"Do you go to school?" Billy asked Marc.
"Sorta. I'm home-schooled wherever I am," Marc replied.
"How long you been in New York?"
"About three days."
"Uh...did your teacher come with you?"
"No, Alec, my agent, called Mr. Hawley and Mr. Woodrow and arranged for a teacher, here in New York, to continue my schooling while I'm here."
"How long are you planning on staying?"
"That depends on a number of things...first, whether or not I'm cast in the role of 'Sonny' and second, IF I am cast, how long will the play run."
"Gosh! Suppose it's a big hit like 'Les Miz'? That show's been running for ten or fifteen years."
Marc laughed at Billy's naiveté. "I couldn't play a ten-old-boy for ten or fifteen years. I'll do lucky to stay with the show a year, if it's a hit. After that, I'll look too old!"
"You're gonna play a ten-year-old kid!"
"That's what I auditioned for."
"But I thought you were sixteen?"
"I am...but that's an advantage of being small. If I were doing a film, I could never pass for ten because of the camera close-ups, but on a stage where I'm twenty feet away from a live audience, I can still pass for ten."
"WOW! How old do you think 'I' look?" Billy asked with great expectation.
"Oh, I'd say you were around fifteen?"
"How did you guess? I mean you're SIXTEEN, a year older, and I thought you'd think I was nineteen or twenty!"
"Your 'Uncle Tim' told me how old you were when I asked him."
"Oh...BUT, I'll bet if I were on stage, I'd pass for your OLDER brother!"
"You probably would, Billy."
At least that was SOME consolation to Billy.
"I...I guess you miss your friends back home, huh?" Billy continued his interrogation.
"One can't miss what one doesn't have..." Marc replied, almost wistfully.
"You got NO friends. Oh! I guess not if you don't go to school," Billy said, thinking it through.
"How long are you and your dads going to be in New York?"
"It depends on how long I want to stay. It could be a day or two or a week," Billy answered. "We stopped over here before heading to New Hampshire..."
"What's up there?"
"More uncles..."
"You mean more Briarwood Boys?"
"I guess Uncle Tim told you all about them, too."
"He told me just enough for me to be envious!"
"Why 'envious', for Pete's sake?"
"I would just like to be a member of a large family with lots of people caring about me. The night Mr. Woodrow told me about the Briarwood Boys, I stayed up half the night, thinking how grand it would be to be one of them, myself."
"I gotta admit, it IS pretty wonderful. I wasn't always one until my two daddies adopted me."
"Your real parents are dead?"
"Yes, both of them," Billy flinched, hoping that Marc wouldn't ask how his parents had died.
"My parents might as well be dead. I don't think they even know I'm alive except when it comes time to write a check to pay for my board and schooling."
"You seem like such a nice guy! What kind of parents wouldn't love YOU?"
"Greedy, conceited, assholes, who care more about their own careers than their son."
"I'm sorry, Marc...really, I am."
"What about your folks? Did they love you?"
"Uh...not really!"
"WHY, for crying out loud?"
"If we get a chance to talk privately during the next few days, I'll tell you all about it."
"I'd like to hear about it."
"It...it's not a pretty story and it has a dreadful ending!" Billy said, glumly. Then, he decided to change the subject. "HEY! What are you doing tomorrow, Marc?"
"School, I guess."
"What time are you finished?"
"Around noon."
"Then why don't we go sight-seeing and see all of New York?"
"I...I really haven't seen much of New York since I've been here."
Billy turned and looked at Rob and Timmy. "Hey, Uncle Rob! Uncle Tim! Could Marc go sight-seeing with me tomorrow?"
Rob looked at Tim..."What do you think?"
"I don't see any reason why not."
"Daddy Cliff and Daddy Roger will be with us and they'll watch out for Marc...won't you?"
"Of course, Billy," Roger replied, cheerfully. "You can see whatever you wish...except for that place you mentioned at the airport..."
"You mean the male stripper place?" Billy asked, as Billy's remark got Marc's attention. "Oh, shoot! I was kidding about that 'cause I thought it might be some place that your and Daddy Cliff would like to go to."
Rob and Tim couldn't keep from laughing as Billy had put his two dads into an embarrassing corner.
Not to be outdone, Roger replied, "Just for that, YOUNG MAN, I'll INSIST on taking you to see a male strip show!" Now it was Billy's turn to blush.
The waiter entered with the chilled French champagne which Roger had ordered during Billy's and Marc's conversation. Roger had ordered another magnum filled with faux sparkling pink champagne for Billy and Marc. The waiter poured a glass for every member in the party and Roger arose to make a toast.
"Here's to a wonderful reunion with Cliff's and my wonderful boys and here's hoping we do it more often!"
The other five in the party followed Roger's toast with 'Cheers' and 'Hear, hear's'.
For the next hour and one-half, they all dined on the most magnificent French cuisine with an assorted array of wonderful French sauces. Thanks to Jay's epicurean education to Billy's appetite, Billy even loved the escargot, drowned in garlic butter.
After the main course was completed, the waiter rolled in a dessert cart with every imaginable French pastry. Roger looked at one and then the next...and the next.
"How the hell am I supposed to decide WHICH of these lovelies I wish to try? SO, Waiter, s'il vous plait, leave the whole damned cart. I want to sample everything you've got!"
Cliff rolled his eyes toward heaven while Rob, Tim, Billy, and Marc laughed at Roger.
The entire evening at 'Chercher L'Homme' couldn't have been more perfect.
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Fifteen minutes later after Roger, Cliff, and Billy had gone into the private dining room, a taxi drove up in front of the same French restaurant and out stepped Lee and Hunter. The Maitre'D escorted them to a small table in a dark secluded corner of the 'bistro-like' room. Just as Hunter predicted, guys and girls, alike, turned their heads as Lee passed them, each eyeing his tight trousers with the scantily concealed crotch. Hunter was walking behind Lee toward the table and almost broke into hysteria as he saw everyone looking at his 'date'!
Lee sat down at the table, opposite from Hunter. Their more than obvious gay waiter came to ask if they would like a cocktail before dinner and to hand each of them a menu. Lee was still not used to drinking alcohol and immediately ordered a Pepsi. Hunter smiled at Lee and said, "Lee, one doesn't go to a chic French restaurant and orders a Pepsi!"
"Sorry," Lee replied to the waiter. "Could I have a 'La Pepsi CoLÁ'?"
Hunter shook his head and said to the waiter, "Make that TWO, please. Only could you serve them in a champagne bucket covered in ice?"
The waiter put his hand to his mouth to hold his mirth and replied, "Yes, sir. Whatever the customer prefers..." and then the waiter left to get the drink order.
"LA Pepsi CoLÁ, indeed!" Hunter joked. "Boy, you can take the Texan out of Texas, but you sure can't take the Texas out of a Texan..."
"Did I do something wrong? I don't like alcohol, but I DO like Pepsi's."
"No, Lee, you did everything just right," Hunter replied, then he added, "I hope you noticed the way everyone was looking at you as we strolled to our table."
"Sure, I noticed! I felt like I was naked or had on invisible clothing and everyone could see me right through it!"
"That old queen...the bald one, dropped his napkin just as you passed him, so that he could get a better view."
"Oh, my Lord! Hunter, I really wish I hadn't come here with you. I'm used to eating pinto beans and rice with a tortilla for supper!" Lee said, opening up his menu. "You know, the only things I can read on this French menu are the prices."
"That's the part you SHOULDN'T read. The check is on me."
"This second item on the right hand side for forty-nine-ninety-five...just what is it?"
"It's broiled chicken covered in a sweet potato and mango sauce."
"Good heavens! Fifty bucks for a chicken! Heck, back in Fort Stockton, we could feed our chickens for a whole year with that much money. Down at the local Dairy Queen, I could buy half of a fried chicken and french fries for under two bucks! Are french fries really French?"
"I doubt it, but would you like me to order that for you?"
"Heck no! Eating fifty dollar chicken would upset my stomach, tremendously!"
"Then what would you like?"
"Do they serve a hamburger steak with home fries?"
"I'm sure that they do, only they call it something more elite and elegant."
"Did you ever see Barbra Streisand in 'Funny Girl'?" Lee asked.
"Countless times."
"I feel just like her when Omar Shariff ordered roast beef and potatoes in French and she had NO idea what he had ordered."
"I won't play a trick on you. I'll see if they'll fix you what you want. You DO eat salad, don't you?"
"As long as it's made with lettuce, tomatoes, scallions, and maybe a few radishes."
"And what kind of dressing do you prefer?"
"Plain old ordinary Kraft's Miracle Whip."
"Then, I am correct to assume you don't want escargot for an appetizer?"
"I KNOW what that is. Jay, one of the Briarwood Boys who lives with Father Cliff used to fix snails drowned in garlic butter. I'd rather eat a slug or a night crawler."
"Do you like frog legs?"
"Love 'em! Jake and I used to go frog gigging all the time and fry 'em up like chicken legs in batter."
"Okay, let's order you frog legs for an appetizer and a facsimile of hamburger steak with home fries for your entrée."
"Sounds good to me!"
Later on, after the appetizers, the waiter brought the main course. Hunter had the house special of coq au vin while Lee had bifteck d'hamburger avec des truffles et pommes de terre frites.
"What the heck are these black things on top of my hamburger steak?"
"They're truffles!"
"You mean like chocolate? CHOCOLATE on hamburger?"
"No, truffles are like a fungus that grow underground. The French people use pigs and wild boars to root them out!"
"Fungus? Like a germ or athlete's foot?"
"No, silly. They're very rare and terribly expensive."
"Like how much?"
"Oh, somewhere between forty and fifty dollars per ounce!"
"I feel a stomach ache coming on. If I DON'T eat them, it's a waste of your money."
"You don't HAVE to eat them."
"Like heck I don't. Are there any more surprised hidden in the meat?"
"No, that's just a wine sauce, but ALL the alcohol was braised out of it. You won't get drunk on French sauces."
After the second bite of truffles, Lee, actually like them. He cleaned his plate and when Hunter had finished his chicken, the waiter rolled the desert cart to the table.
"Now, I see something I know about...napoleons, eclairs, croissants, cream horns..."
"What would you like?"
"Would it embarrass you if I ordered a plain old eclair?"
"Of course not, Lee."
"Is that the last thing I have to order?"
"Yes, Lee, unless you'd like some coffee with your eclair..."
"What's in it? French dressing?"
Hunter laughed. "Buddy, you ARE a card...but a delightful one. Pardon my saying this, but it's just too bad that you aren't mine..."
"I might as well be! You dressed me in what YOU wanted me to wear. You brought me to this French restaurant to show me off as your date. You ordered my meal for me. What more do you want from me?"
"Lee, what I want from you...you're not ready to give to me."
"I'm not too dumb to know what you're referring to, Hunter. I...I have had reservations since I met you to tell you something private about myself. But, I think now, is just as good a time as any!"
"You're going to reveal some deep dark secret to me?"
"It's something that all the Briarwood Boys know about me, so why shouldn't you know as well?"
"Well, don't tie my shorts into square knots...please, tell me."
"You haven't asked how I came to live with two Briarwood Boys and how I know Mr. Cole and Father Cliff...a kid from Fort Stockton, Texas..."
"I have been wondering what was the connection, Lee."
"I...I was a patient at the Cole Institute for a while."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Hunter...I had advanced AIDS..."
Hunter could feel the bottom of his stomach sink when hearing the horrible word.
"My God! Do you still take your medicine? I didn't see any in your bathroom after you unpacked."
"I don't need any drugs."
"You're OFF your meds?"
"Yes...completely...forever."
"Do you have some kind of death wish?"
"I had one when Jake was killed but not because of AIDS. Hunter, you see, Mr. Cole and Dr. Middleton at the Cole Institute took care of me and Dr. Middleton found a cure for my strain of AIDS and HIV. I...I'm cured, Hunter. There's no trace of the virus in me at all."
"Good GOD! Are you serious?"
"TOTALLY. Dr. Middleton didn't find a cure for ALL AIDS cases, but his wonder drug knocked the shit out of mine. It's gone!"
"Can I be nosey to ask how you contracted it?"
"Sure, but don't let it give you the wrong idea about me. I was taking piano lessons in my hometown...and one day after my lesson, my piano teacher and I got to fooling around...sexually...and we went too far. He didn't know he was a carrier and heck, I'd had no sexual experience before him, so I didn't know what 'safe sex' meant. Buddy McLain, my piano teacher, died shortly after he was diagnosed, only he was killed by some jerks in a hate crime. I took a bus across Texas, trying to get to an AIDS clinic in Dallas or Fort Worth and due to some unforeseen circumstances or the hand of God, I was picked up in the desert by Mike and Tom, two of the Briarwood Boys. Mike was cured at the Institute and upon learning that I was infected, the two of them drove me back to Briarwood in their RV, called Mr. Cole, and got me admitted. Jake came to Briarwood to be with me and after I was pronounced cured, Jake and I moved in temporarily with Mike and Tom and lived there until Jake was killed just few weeks ago."
Lee's testimony moved Hunter to tears. He placed his hand across the table and rested it on top of Lee's hand, ever so gently.
"Little guy, you've had one horrible year. Jesus Christ! It puts me to shame!" Hunter reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a handkerchief to blow his nose and wipe the tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lee. I know that everything I've done for you seems like pity and I DO feel sorry for you...and I know you don't want me to! But hearing what you just told me, makes me want to help you in any way that I can. IF you want to move into your own apartment, find a job, date Miss Universe...whatever! I'll do what I can to see that you achieve your goals. You've had enough bad things happen to you for a DOZEN life times."
"Hunter, if you don't mind...I'd like to stay with you for a while longer. I mean, if I move out...I'll just be alone. Being with you gives me someone to talk with...and gives me that warm, fuzzy feeling that I have a friend who cares...and not someone who just wants to get into my jockey shorts."
"I'll never press you on that topic again, Lee, although you DO make me hornier than any guy I've ever met in my life."
"Thanks!"
"Are you finished with your meal?"
"I think so."
"Why don't we take a walk? There's nothing like walking in New York in autumn. The city is alive and magical."
"I'd like that...I might even let you hold my hand," Lee said.
"I'd be honored."
The two got up from their table after Lee had paid the waiter's check and had given him a more than generous gratuity. They headed for the door. Through the big window, they could see the autumn breeze blowing the trees up and down the street. It was a beautiful night for a stroll. Hunter held the door for Lee to exit. Lee had one foot outside on the sidewalk when he heard a loud voice behind him, shouting...
"LEE!"
Since Lee knew no one really in New York, he ignored the call and continued out the door.
"LEE MALONE! WAIT!"
Both Lee and Hunter stopped and turned around and there stood Billy. He was followed by Daddy Roger's entourage coming out from the private dining room.
"Billy...?" Lee said, in total disbelief.
"Yeah! And look who's with me."
At this moment, Cliff and Roger caught a glimpse of Lee and both ran to meet him and give him hugs. Hunter was speechless as he watched gaping as these handsome men were surrounding Lee.
"Lee, you had us all so worried!" Cliff said.
"Son, we were scared to death something had happened to you, but it's so grand to see you!" Roger gushed.
At first, Lee didn't know how to react. He had left Briarwood without so much as a 'goodbye' to anyone, but now he was found...among eight million people in New York City. What were the odds of that happening...ever? Finally, Lee relented and embraced Cliff, Roger, and Billy with tears in his eyes. On the outer ring of the inner circle, Rob and Timmy were swept up in the celebration and joined in the hugs. Hunter and Marc were left standing aside looking on at the reunion. Roger eyed Hunter with a friendly suspicion.
"And who is this handsome young gentleman?" Roger asked Lee.
"Oh, excuse me. Guys, this is my...this is Hunter. I...I'm staying with him at his apartment."
"Well, come on in the group and get a hug, Hunter," Roger said. "Family is family. We know no strangers."
Hunter was reluctant at first until Lee explained, "Hunter, this is Mr. Roger Cole, Father Cliff, and their son, Billy." Then he said, "Hold on to your shorts, but this is Mr. Rob Hawley and Mr. Tim Woodrow." Hearing these names, Hunter's heart rushed to the point he thought he was going to faint.
"LEE!" Roger said, firmly. "What is all this 'MISTER' bullshit? Hunter, I'm Lee's Uncle Roger, this is his Uncle Cliff. These two are his uncles Rob and Tim. I guess that makes Billy, Lee's first cousin."
"I'm pleased to meet all of you," Hunter replied, feeling a gulp in his throat.
"WAIT!" Billy exclaimed. "We left someone out!" turning to Marc. "Hunter, this is Marc Carlton. He's going to play the boy in Uncle Tim's new musical, 'The Dark at the Top of the Stairs!" causing Hunter's heart to sink even lower. Marc looked too small to play 'Sammy'.
"Pleased to meet you, Hunter, but Billy is rushing things. I haven't been cast yet. I'm only here from California to audition."
"Oh, that's nice," Hunter replied. "It's nice meeting you, too!"
"Lee, what made you decide to come to New York?" Cliff asked.
"Actually, it was a flip of the coin at the Greyhound Bus Station. That's where Hunter and I hooked up..."
Then Cliff looked at Hunter, "Is New York your home?"
"Well, actually, my home is in Atlanta, but my dad has a town house on the upper East Side."
"Can I ask where the two of you are headed?" Roger asked.
"We were just going to a walk," Lee replied.
"No place in particular?" Roger inquired.
"Not really," Lee said.
"Then I have a wonderful idea," Roger said. "We're all going up to Rob and Tim's apartment to hear the score Tim has written for his new musical. I would love it if you and Hunter would join us!"
Lee had a wry grin on his face, "What do you think, Hunter? Would you like to hear 'UNCLE' Tim's new score?"
Hunter was flabbergasted. "I...I...Shit! Oh, excuse me! I'd LOVE TO!"
To cover Hunter's embarrassment, Lee explained, "Hunter always gets choked up and is a loss for words when he hears Broadway music!". Hunter blushed.
"Then, for God's sake, you CAN'T refuse. I have a limo parked somewhere around here," Roger said. "We can all fit in, I'm sure."
Seeing how Hunter was all flustered with excitement, Lee reached over and took Hunter's hand which raised a couple of eyebrows in a pleasant way from Cliff and Roger. Hunter was in shock. Fate had just dropped into his lap...or so it would seem.
Roger hailed the limo and all eight piled into the limousine and headed toward West 75th Street, the address of Rob and Tim's apartment.
On the way there, Cliff, Roger, nor Billy asked any questions of Lee's sudden departure from Briarwood. Jake's name was never mentioned...and for many reasons, Chuck Brindley's name wasn't either.
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Will, nor Chris, neither one, said a word when they exited the church to get back into Chris' car. It was easy for Chris to feel Will's combination of fear, embarrassment, and anger over the remarks Will made to Chris in the confessional. Several times after the two got into the car, Chris looked at Will, but Will showed no sign of making eye contact with his friend and confessor.
"Where to now?" Chris asked, starting the car. "The pharmacy?"
"Wherever..." Will replied in a monotone...with NO expression in his voice at all.
"I think we need to get your three prescriptions filled. Dr. Herbert said that at least one of them would take a couple of weeks before you felt the full effect."
"I suppose it's too late to call Dr. Herbert and ask for a fourth prescription for cyanide or arsenic...?"
"Why, for God's sake?"
"Because, REVEREND, I just made a first-class fool of myself in front of you! I can't even face you!"
"Will...Will, do you think I don't know hurt, loneliness, and desperation when I hear it?" Chris said, trying to console Will. "You've lost the love of your life...perhaps, your FIRST true love and believe me, I can commiserate with what you're going through. Don't you realize that I hurt just as badly as you? I'm lonely as hell! I'm also very desperate to have Ed in my arms one more time...but that can't be! It's not possible."
"Yes, but you didn't rant and rave like a lunatic about having feelings for me as I just did proclaiming my sudden feelings for you!"
"I know, Will, at the moment you feel as if your life is totally fucked up. You're reaching in the dark for something or someone to save you! Sure, I could have slipped out of my side of the confessional and gone into yours and embraced you, but IF and WHEN that ever happens for real, I want to know that you and I are not just using one another as substitutions for the losses we're both trying to recover from."
"I know that Dr. Middleton was much older than you. Rick and I were the same age. Maybe I was stupid enough to believe that you could love or at least, like someone younger...about MY age."
"Age has nothing to do with love. I met young men in Atlanta who were barely legal age that I could have taken a liking to. I never thought when I DID fall in love, it would be with someone over twice my age. It just happened between Ed and me."
"Do you think I'm mentally ill?" Will asked, while looking at Chris for the first time since they had gotten into the car.
"Of course not!"
"Then, do you think I really need those prescriptions which Dr. Herbert wrote for me?"
"Actually, yes. He's a psychiatrist, one of the best in the country and if he feels that these three drugs will get your nerves stabilized, then I have to agree with him."
"Hell, my nerves are stabilized!"
"From what I've read in books or on the Internet about PTSS, it comes and goes in waves like manic-depression. You can feel high or fine one minute and the bottom can drop out, the next."
"FATHER CHRIS! What I need doesn't come in the form of a tablet or capsule!". Will exclaimed. "LOOK! LOOK AT MY HAND...HOW IT'S SHAKING!" Will held his hand up, nearly to Chris face. "CAN ANY GODDAMNED PILL STOP THAT?"
"Dr. Herbert thinks it might."
"Then, let me show you something. Stop the car and take my hand...HOLD IT!"
Chris pulled his car to the curb, put the gear into the 'park' position and reticently took hold of Will's hand. Will's hand was clammy and cold with perspiration. Chris lowered Will's hand down to the seat between them and almost instantly, Will's hand stopped quivering. Chris could even feel the warm blood replacing the cold in Will's hand.
"Does this make you feel better?" Chris asked, quietly.
"You know damned well, it does! It stopped the shaking, didn't it?"
"I...I guess it did!"
"That's all I needed...NOT some goddamned pill. I needed the touch of someone's hand in mine. I wanted to feel living skin tissue from a real live person!"
"I wish I had known that this was your intention back at the church, then 'I' wouldn't have acted like a scared ninny! Maybe 'I' was afraid to make bodily contact with you."
"You know the part I left out of my confession a few minutes ago? Well, let me tell you. In the past few days since you left my bedroom, I've jerked off at least a dozen times, fantasizing...NOT ABOUT RICK...but about YOU! Rick was the first and only guy I ever had homosexual feelings about in my life. I wasn't gay BEFORE I met him. After he died, I convinced myself that the relationship with Rick was a one-time thing! Hell, I had a fiancée waiting for me in Briarwood. We were going to get married, have four or five kids, watch 'em grow up, send them off to college, watch THEM fall in love and get married...but the more I thought about it, it scared the shit out of me. When you came to visit me, I felt comfort and solace...the way I always felt around Rick. You're the religious person, but I, suddenly felt that God had sent you to me...and with Dr. Middleton gone, God had lead you to me so that I could fill some of your despair and loneliness. Now, THAT DOES sound as if I'm crazy, doesn't it?"
"I...I...I don't know, Will."
"Father, if I had my weapon in my lap...the one I used in Iraq and I had plans to shoot myself with it in the next five minutes, my last wish on this earth would be for you to hold me in your arms and plant one kiss on my lips. I could die happy!"
"Will, I COULD do that, but I fear what the after-effect might be. I wouldn't want to give you hope where there might be none. I...I don't know if I could kiss ANYONE, just yet."
"Well, don't worry! I DON'T have my weapon and I'm NOT going to kill myself in the next five minutes."
"Is an embrace and a kiss THAT important to you? I mean, you don't think it would unbalance your stability you said you had?"
"FUCK! Now I feel as if I'm FORCING you to embrace me...and that's not at all what I had in mind..."
"You're NOT forcing me, Will...I...I want to...so badly...I...OH! DAMN IT TO HELL!" Chris exclaimed as he took Will's hand and pulled Will's body toward him and kissed him hard with deep emotion. Chris put both arms around Will and embraced him forcefully. Chris came to the realization that he needed Will as much as Will needed him. Will followed Chris' lead and put his arms around Chris. Both their lips parted and their tongues touched...gently at first, but then their tongues played a passionate tug-of-war with one another's. "God forgive me, Will! I KNOW this is wrong...TERRIBLY wrong. I pray that I won't hurt you!"
"Father..."
"Please, if we're going to be doing this, you'd better call me 'Chris'!"
"CHRIS! Don't you feel it?" Will sighed into Chris' left ear. "God wants us to be together! It's in HIS plan. Oh, God, let me tell you that I've been in love with you since you left my bedroom. I don't need Dr. Herbert's pills! I NEED YOUR LOVE! That's all I need to get well!"
"Are you sure, Will? I mean REALLY sure?"
"As sure as I believe there IS a God."
"Then, God forgive us both!" Chris uttered as he kissed Will again.
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Roger, Cliff, Rob, Billy and Marc, and Lee and Hunter sat on couches or on the floor surrounding Tim, at his piano in the apartment on West 75th Street. Tim finished playing the overture to "The Dark At The Top Of The Stairs", with gusto! Tim had written the main theme of seven of the songs in the overture. A couple of the tunes were lively and in the middle section was one of the loveliest ballads anyone had ever heard.
Tim stopped playing to set the scene of the first act when the curtain raises and he began singing Rubin's opening song, 'A Man's Gotta Work'. It was clever and Roger felt that Rob would do a wonderful job singing it. Roger, in his mind, could imagine how Robert Preston's flamboyant rendering might have been. Next came one of Cora, the mother's songs, 'Where Does He Go When He's Gone?'...somewhat slower than Rubin's first number, but 'Where Does He Go' was clever and funny in places. Midway through the first act, it was time for Sonny, the son, to have the stage by himself and he quietly sang, 'Why Won't She Let Me Grow Up?'...only Tim asked Marc to sing it. When Hunter realized that Marc was being considered for the son, he relaxed. To Hunter, that meant that the role of Sammy hadn't been cast yet.
Marc resembled a Michelangelo cherub as he sang the soft ballad. His voice was crystal clear with the correct amount of vibrato at the end of each phrase. Every eye in the room was shedding tears when he finished.
Tim continued with the score, singing Reenie's song and Cora's while Rob, who never sounded better in his life, sang all of Rubin's. In the second act, Sammy had a solo. Tim had interspersed some of Sammy's dialogue from the movie version where Sammy tells Reenie about his mother forgetting his birthday...how he was never invited home for Christmas from the military academy. The song was a soliloquy of various tempos, ranging from anger to self-pity. Hunter all but flipped when he heard it. During the middle of the song, he arose from the floor where he had been sitting and went behind Tim to read the lyrics and try to grasp bits and pieces of the melody. When the song started reprising the main tonal pattern, Hunter began to sing along with Tim.
Everyone was astonished at Hunter's singing voice. Hunter wasn't just good, he was great! Tim stopped playing and asked Hunter if he would mind singing the song from the beginning. This was too good to be true for Hunter. He picked up the various strains quickly and ended the song on a high note which he held forever! Roger, Cliff, and Rob broke out into huge applause for Lee's new roommate. Tim gave Rob a 'what do you think' look and Rob responded by nodding his head.
"Hunter, are you in show business? I mean have you ever appeared in a book show on Broadway or otherwise?"
"Just high school," Hunter replied. "But I've studied voice and dancing all my life."
"Then, you're considering going into the business?" Tim asked.
"Well, I hadn't really given it much thought," Hunter replied, innocently.
"He's a liar, Tim!" Lee said, loudly. "He's auditioning for the part of Sammy day after tomorrow!"
"Is that true, Hunter?" Tim asked.
"Well, yes...yes, I am."
"Why not tomorrow?"
"Because I'm not Equity. I planned on coming to the non-Equity cattle call, day after tomorrow."
"Well, son, I hope you'll keep your word and show up," Tim said.
"I know I'm not as good as the pros auditioning tomorrow, but I WILL do my best," Hunter said.
Tim continued playing all the songs from the show and everyone applauded thunderously...ALL seven of them!
Roger looked at Tim..."So how much are you going to need to earn me another million or two?"
"Roger?" Tim asked, excitedly. "Did you really like my music that much?"
"Tim, I'll say it'll run longer than 'Cats'!"
"I TOLD YOU, BABE!" Rob said to Tim.
"It really IS wonderful, Tim," Cliff said. "Thank God you didn't write a rock score. That's what's ruined Broadway..."
"...and it's SO melodic...not like that boring Andrew Lloyd Webber," Roger continued Cliff's sentence. "That British jerk writes ONE song and then writes a whole show around it. I still think of 'School Days, School Days, Dear old golden rule days', when I hear 'Music of the Night!'. Tim, your songs are like Irving Berlin, Bob Merrill, or Jule Styne...full of WONDERFUL, HUMMABLE tunes! Say how much you need and you've got yourself a backer!"
"Oh, Roger, we couldn't ask you to produce the whole musical by yourself."
"OH?" Roger replied. "...and with WHOM do you wish me to share the profit with?"
"Well, no one, really..."
"TIM! ROB! You have your Uncle Walter's telephone number. When you've completed making your budget, give him a call and have him write you a check!"
"But Roger, you know that it's going to be VERY expensive..."
"And who can afford it more than I? I LIKED what I heard and I predict it's gonna be a hit! Now if you can just cast it right...like you did 'Brigadoon', we'll all be in heather on the hill again!"
Hunter was so excited, but he didn't want to wear out his welcome, so he suggested to Lee that they bid their thanks and go home. Lee knew that Hunter was nervous and if Hunter DIDN'T get the role of Sammy, Hunter would be one depressed puppy!
"We're gonna have to leave," Lee said.
"Well, we're going on a big sight-seeing tour tomorrow, Lee, why don't you and Hunter join us?" Cliff asked.
"I...I don't know, Father Cliff..."
"Oh, come on! We've hardly talked at all!" Cliff replied.
"What do you think, Hunter? Wanna go sight-seeing tomorrow with Mr. Cole and Father Cliff?" Lee asked.
"AND MARC AND ME!" Billy added.
"Oh, why not!" Hunter said.
"And Hunter," Tim interrupted, "do you have a home telephone number?"
"One on all four floors of his townhouse!" Lee said.
"Then, would you mind writing your number down?" Tim replied.
"NO SIR! I'll be happy to!"
"Now, young men, if you'll wait just a minute, we'll take you back to your...'townhouse', did you say?" Roger said.
"That would be great!" Hunter answered.
After many goodbyes and hugs, Roger, Cliff, Lee, and Hunter started to leave. Billy stayed behind and whispered to Marc, "Do you think you could come back to the hotel with me and spend the night? I've got this HUGE room all to myself!"
"I'll have to ask!" Marc said.
"WAIT! I'll ask for you!" Billy retorted. "HEY! EVERYONE! Can Marc spend the night with me at the hotel?"
Cliff raised an eyebrow to Roger, who, in turn, said quietly...'he's YOUR son..."
Rob and Tim understood what was happening and smiled at each other. "SURE, WHY NOT? IF he wants to go..."
"OF COURSE, I DO!" Marc, all but yelled.
"Then, go to your room, get your toothbrush, your pajamas, and what you're going to wear sight-seeing tomorrow!"
"YAHOO!" Marc screamed running to his room. Billy was running right behind him.
"Do you think it'll be all right?" Cliff asked Rob.
"Marc's sixteen and Billy is YOUR son, so I'll leave it up to you as to how much you wish to chaperone two wild teenagers!" Rob said, smiling.
"Oh, let them be. They BOTH could use a best friend right now!"
Marc and Billy came running from Marc's bedroom with gear in tow and they all went outside to the awaiting chauffeur, who was fast asleep at the steering wheel.
Hunter gave the driver his address and off they went.
Mr. Cole, Father Cliff," Hunter began, "I can't thank you enough for tonight..."
"You want that role, don't you, Hunter?" Roger said.
"Only if I'm good enough..."
"Tell me, Lee," Roger continued, "are you and Hunter a couple?"
"We're roommates for now," Lee answered.
"Lee, you still haven't told us why you left Briarwood so abruptly...Do you have enough money to live here?"
"I've got nearly eight hundred dollars," Lee said, proudly.
"Well, that ought to last you until lunch tomorrow..." Roger said, wryly. "You know, Lee, I always see to it that our Briarwood Boys never want for anything..."
"I...I didn't think I was a REAL Briarwood Boy..." Lee explained.
"You and Jake lived with Tom and Mike and to me, that makes you one!"
"YOU'RE A BRIARWOOD BOY!?" Hunter said, with excited envy.
"I...I guess I am..."
"Then if YOU and I...oops!" Hunter said.
"That's right!" Roger added. "but we'll give it time..."
Never had so much happened to the rich Atlanta kid in one night as had happened to Hunter. He wanted to squeeze Lee in front of everyone.
Billy and Marc had seated themselves in the back seat of the limo. Billy was holding Marc's hand.
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(To be continued in "Briarwood" Book Nine..."A New Heaven and a New Earth"--chapter-97).