Dr Tim and the Boys

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

Some of the events in this chapter are also described in "Out of the Night," chapters 10 & 11 (Adult Friends). The time of this chapter is December, 2002.

Thanks as always to Tom W., Patrick, Ash, Mickey, and Evan.

Timmead88@yahoo.com Chapter 35: Florida and Ohio

MAX:

Tim called me the first week in December, and I could sense the excitement in his voice. He explained to me the troubles that Mark's dad and his new partner were having in Florida, the thing about the vandalism to Stan's car, the garbage in the front yard, the nasty phone calls, and, what grabbed my interest more than all the other problems, the bishop's yanking Doug's license to be a lay Eucharistic reader in his local Episcopal parish. I was torn. I'm a priest in the Episcopal Church, and I realize very well that the bishop of a diocese pretty much rules with an iron hand. Or, at least, some of them do. But I couldn't believe that Bishop Wenn would revoke Doug's license to be a lay reader because he was gay. Our church is supposed to be the most liberal in the U.S., and it has always proclaimed itself to be inclusive.

Tim explained that Doug had tried to see the bishop, that he had had an unsatisfactory meeting with some sanctimonious canon, and that there was no chance of his license being reinstated. He went on to say that Doug was planning, alone if necessary, to go to the Cathedral in Walkersburg and hand out flyers in protest. Then he told me that the Brotherhood were going and asked if David and I would like to go along. He said that there would be no cost, that Stan was picking up all expenses. That bothered me, but I admitted to Tim that I felt I HAD to be there. David was another matter. I knew he had to be in Chicago all that week and told Tim so.

"But, Tim, I'm with you guys. That's outrageous. I'm going to go, and I'm sure David will be sorry he can't be with us. I'm having feelings I never thought I'd have about a bishop in my church. The more I think of it, the angrier I get."

"Well, Max, I'm not of your persuasion, so I have no trouble being totally furious with this tin-pot tyrant who calls himself a bishop. So you want to join us? Is there likely to be a problem for you?"

"Yeah, there could be."

"I can imagine. Father John?"

"Right! How soon do you have to know?"

"Well, Max, Mark wants to see about the airline tickets right away. Think you could call your boss tonight?"

I chuckled. "Timmy, I am not in phone contact with my Boss. I'll contact him this evening, but I think I'd better call Father John right away. If he's at home, I'll be back to you soon, OK?"

"Yeah, babe. I realize it might be awkward for you to do this. You don't have to, you know."

"No, Tim, I need to be with you guys. You know I have strong convictions on this issue. Mark's dad is a baptized Episcopalian, and so, obviously, is Doug. By virtue of their baptism, they are entitled to all the rights of any other Episcopalian, despite what their fellow parishioners might think. Despite what their bishop thinks. What Bishop Wenn has done is wrong. So, thanks again for inviting me. I'll be back in touch with you soon."

"Love you, Max."

"Love you, Tim."

I called Father John and explained why I needed a few days off the following week, not quite sure how he'd react.

"Do it, Max! We'll manage without you from Monday until Thursday. There's only one condition."

"Yes, Father?"

"No clericals. You are doing this as a private individual, not as a priest. I don't think our bishop would object in principle, but he has to keep his fences mended with his brother bishops, including the infamous Bishop Wenn. So you had better keep anyone down there from finding out that you're a priest. Think you can manage that?"

"Oh, yes, Father, I'll go as a civilian and blend in with the guys I'm going with. I suspect Tim Mead will be doing the same thing."

"I admire and respect you, Max, for what you're doing. Just don't ever quote me."

"Right, Father, and thanks."

I called Tim back and told him I was set.

My seat-mate on the flight down and, as I discovered, my roommate at the hotel in Cypress Haven, was Philip Halifax. I had met him briefly at Nighttown, but I didn't feel as if I knew him. I was aware that he and Trey were casual friends, that he and Geoff Benton, whose trio I really admired, were -- what? A couple? I wasn't sure, but obviously Philip was interested in Geoff if he came all the way to Cleveland from campus to hear the trio play. Anyway, Tim explained that Geoff had obligations but that Philip, in his capacity as a gay activist and president of the university SGA chapter, was happy to be invited to come.

"Let's see, it's Father Hewitt, isn't it?" he asked me after the plane was aloft and we had unfastened our seat belts.

"It's just Max, and I understand you don't like to be called Phil."

He grinned. "Yeah, Max, I hate Phil. Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

"So. Look, I don't make a practice of asking this sort of thing, but I know that Mark Mason and Steve Metz are straight. Can I assume, since you and I are going to be roommates on this trip, that you are gay?"

"I try to keep a low profile, Philip, but the rector and vestry at St. Peter's know I'm gay. I'm also in a relationship."

He chuckled. "So am I, more or less, so you can relax. It's just more comfortable knowing what I can talk about with a guy I don't know well. Especially one as cute as you."

That threw me. Philip had his own dark charm, but I wasn't interested. David and I hadn't been "together" very long, and I wasn't about to do anything to mess that up.

"Thanks for the compliment, Philip. I think we understand each other about this trip?"

"Yeah, Max, we're cool."

I found Philip a pleasant companion on the flight, which seemed to pass quickly. We talked about the SGA and about national topics of interest to gay guys. He was interested in the Claiming the Blessing Conference held the previous month in St. Louis and in the New Westminster initiative in Canada, where one diocese of the Anglican Church had voted to allow the blessing of same-sex unions. Before I knew it, we were being asked to fasten our belts in preparation for the landing in Waltersburg.

Tim and I had each checked a bag through. The rest of the guys had managed with a carry-on duffel. While Tim and I were claiming our bags, the others went to see about the transportation Mark had reserved for us. I had assumed we'd all cram ourselves into an SUV. I was surprised when Trey and Mark pulled up with two convertibles, one bright red and the other egg-yolk yellow, both with the tops down.

Chaz took one look at them, pulled off his shirt and opened the passenger door. "Come on, Ced and Tim. Take off your shirts, this is Florida."

"Yeah, Chaz, but I don't really need a tan," Cedric joked.

"Maybe not, but you can show off your bod to the natives, bro!" Chaz responded.

Tim looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, took off his shirt, and piled into the rear seat with Ced. Ced and Chaz were magnificent, but it was my old friend Tim whose slim body made me aware that I had a boner. Chaz got in and closed the door.

Philip and I were obviously to be in the back of the second car. I noticed that Mark and Trey were taking off their shirts. Philip pulled his off. Not to be a spoilsport, I pulled mine off, too. "Nice, Max," Philip said, grinning.

I jumped in, Philip followed me, and we were all off. Trey, in the lead car with Chaz navigating, got us out of the airport in short order, and soon we were on a toll road with very little traffic. Ahead of us, Chaz had put on the radio loud enough that we could hear the music. Steve grinned and began fiddling with the radio in our car. Soon, we were all listening to the same music. Whatever it was, I think David would have liked it. So we drove through the sunny, mild Florida afternoon. What a treat it was to be away from northern Ohio in December! It reminded me a little of my days in Berkeley, except that this land was all flat and scrubby looking, except where there were housing developments. The Bay area IS a good deal more beautiful.

In what seemed like no time at all, we were entering Lake Polk. Trey, in the car ahead, pulled over at one point and motioned us around. I realized that Mark must have been the one who had directions to Doug's house.

Lake Polk was a pretty little town in a hilly area. We drove around the lake for which the town was named and drove up a hill and into a nice development of newish homes, none of them terribly large, and all obviously done by the same builder.

We slowed, pulled into a driveway, and we were at Doug's. Never having met Mark's father, much less his new lover, I was a little nervous. And I felt a little sorry for them having to cope with eight half-naked guys arriving, radios blasting, in their quiet neighborhood.

I needn't have worried.

As we were piling out of the two cars, two men came out of the house holding hands. I recognized Stan immediately. He was a little shorter than Mark, and he had gray mixed in with his dark hair, but otherwise they looked very much alike. The other guy had to be Doug. He was somewhere around 5'11", I'd guess, with brown hair and sexy, soulful brown eyes.

There was a lot of hugging, and then introductions were made. Stan and Doug invited us in. Tim put his shirt back on. Taking the hint, I grabbed mine from the car and put it on. The others took their cue and put theirs on.

Inside we were offered beer or wine, and we all just visited. Mark's dad and Doug seemed to be "working the room," moving about, chatting with everyone. About the time my stomach began to rumble, Doug apologized for forgetting that we might be hungry. So he ordered in pizza. I thought when the guy came to the door, we'd never get through such a huge stack, but eventually we polished them all off.

We talked all evening, and I came to see what a magnetic person Stan was. Tim had told me he was remarkable. He'd told me about the evening at Stefan's when Stan both pissed him off and took his breath away because he was so sexy. He also told me that as he came to know Stan more, he liked him a great deal.

Doug, too, turned out to be an appealing guy. Warm, sincere, witty in a quiet way, he was quite the foil to Stan. He told me he was a lifelong Episcopalian and that what he was about to do the next day, what we all were about to do the next day, worried him a great deal, but he felt he HAD to do it. He thanked me for being there and asked if I would be in any kind of trouble. I explained what Father John had said, and he seemed relieved.

When it came time to go back to the motel, Stan warned us to put the tops up on the convertibles, and we all agreed to leave from Doug's house for Waltersburg at 8:30 the next morning. It was a beautiful, starry night, the temperature in the upper 60's, so we left the tops down until we got to the motel.

Philip wanted to shower, so I told him to go ahead. I preferred showering first thing in the morning. He was obviously quite comfortable as he stripped before me. He was pretty hairy for a guy his age. His arms, legs, and chest had black hair on them, and there was even a little bit of hair on his buttocks. He had a nice cock and average-sized balls. I couldn't help wondering how big that cock got when it was erect.

After he finished in the bathroom, I peed and brushed my teeth. I stripped to my boxers, and got in bed. Philip was already on the bed, lying naked on top of the covers.

"So, Max, you and that hot redhead are a couple?"

"Well, yes, I suppose we are. We don't live together, and he travels for his company a lot, but we spend as much time as we can together."

"So it's an exclusive thing?"

"Yes."

"You know, I've recently gotten into a `relationship' for the first time in a couple of years. I've always just sort of played the field, but I seemed to have settled into a pattern with this guy, not seeing anyone else. I'm surprised, but so far I haven't particularly wanted anyone else."

"You're never tempted?"

"Hell, yes, I'm tempted. I see hot guys all the time. I've been lying here talking about Geoff trying not to get hard looking at you. But my feeling for Geoff is different. He's so cute, and so vulnerable. And yet he was a varsity diver and he plays the piano like -- well, you've seen and heard him, so you know what I mean."

"Yeah, Philip. Geoff is very good looking, and he's very talented. On the piano, that is. I never saw him dive."

"It's something about his control of that great-looking body. Both as a diver and as a pianist. I'm not explaining this very well, am I?"

"I think I understand what you're saying. He's trained himself to perform, to excel, in two different areas, both involving skill, coordination, and grace."

He grinned at me and scratched his balls. "Perfect. That's exactly what I was trying to say. I suppose I shouldn't tell you this, but Geoffie was a complete virgin when we first got together, no sexual experience with women or men. But I have to tell you, he's been an eager learner. He nearly wears me out sometimes!"

"Sounds as if you're a pretty lucky guy, Philip."

"Yes, I guess I am. I'm still not used to this monogamy thing, though. Maybe Geoff is going to be the guy to make me change my ways."

"It sounds as if it's worth giving it a try."

"Yeah, well, we have to get up early tomorrow. Should we ask for a wakeup call?"

"I've got a little travel alarm here. I've set it for 6:00. I'm hoping for some time in the motel's fitness room before we leave."

"Wake me up then too, please, if you don't mind company."

We said goodnight.

The next morning I woke just before the alarm was to go off, so I reached over and shut it off. I looked at Philip, in the other bed. He was lying there on his back, and there was a sizable tent in the top sheet. I got up and went to the bathroom, where I peed and rinsed my mouth. Then I came back out into the room to get into a jock, some shorts, and a tee to wear to the exercise room. He must have heard me in the bathroom, for he was sitting on the side of the bed looking a little sleepy. His cock, I'd say seven inches, was the kind that curves back toward the stomach. I wondered how he was going to take a leak with it that way.

"Good mornin', Max. Why don't you go on down? I'll join you there in a few."

"OK. If you don't make it, you know there's breakfast in the lobby?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks for the reminder."

Philip never showed up in the fitness room. I stopped past the lobby to drink a glass of juice and take some donuts and coffee back to the room with me. I bumped into Ced, who was taking things back to Tim. He said he had talked with Trey, who assured him that he and Chaz would be ready on time. Philip was dressed for the day when I got there. He apologized and said he just didn't move fast enough to have any kind of a workout and then shower again and eat. So he had opted to eat. I wondered if he had whacked off while I was gone. He certainly looked as if he needed to before I left him.

Anyway, we all were indeed ready on time and arrived at Doug's house at 8:15, a bit ahead of schedule.

When we pulled up, Doug's garage door was open. There was a big gray sedan in the driveway which I learned was his car. The trunk was up, and he was putting signs into it. Inside the garage was a new (as opposed to classic) Thunderbird. Red like David's Corvette, it wasn't quite so splashy, but it was a great-looking car. Stan must have seen me looking it over, for he said to me, "We're taking the hearse because this baby doesn't have the room for those placards."

I chuckled over his name for Doug's car, but it wasn't too inappropriate, really.

Tim and I were invited to ride with Doug and Stan. I looked at Tim, who thanked them, but said he wanted to work a little more on his tan, so we rode in one of the Sebrings instead. As on the previous day, we all pulled our shirts off for the drive to Waltersburg.

The day of the demonstration passed quickly. We were joined by three guys from the local college, people Doug knew, apparently. And then Doug's next-door neighbors showed up. I'm sure he must not have been expecting them, for there were tears in his eyes when he hugged Reggie and Mama.

I was called a name or two, but I also got to talk with a number of very nice people who wanted to know why we were there and what was going on. One woman came up to me and asked, "Are all you young men gay?"

"No, ma'am, some are and some are straight."

"What about you, are you gay?"

"I'm sorry, but I really don't think that's any of your business."

"You know that Leviticus says that homosexuality is an `abomination,' don't you?"

"Yes ma'am. I take it you read your Bible?"

"Oh, yes, every day."

"Tell me, do you cover your head in church?"

"Well, no, I, uh, . . . ."

"You believe sex is for procreation only?"

"Well, um, . . . ."

"How about polyester and cotton blends? Ever wear those?"

"Of course, but, . . . ."

"You know that all of those things are also covered in the Bible, don't you, ma'am?" I said, smiling.

"Well, yes, but that's different."

"Would you explain to me how you decide what to believe in the Bible and what you don't have to believe?"

She looked confused, took one of my leaflets, and walked away.

"The Lord go with you, ma'am," I said.

Later I noticed that Ced was talking with Reggie and his mother, and soon they were joined by the black kid with the cornrows, Aaron.

We did what we were supposed to do, which was wave the placards and/or hand out flyers. As I said, we were all called names. And one person, when I explained about the bishop pulling Doug's LEM license, said, "Well, I don't know what he expected if he's going to live like that!" So, obviously, we didn't reach everybody.

Tim, who had learned from Doug, explained to me who Blair and Adam were. We chuckled over Adam's role in bringing those two together. And I had a chance to talk with Blair. Someone must have told him I am a priest, for he wanted to know what I thought about homosexuality and what my church's stand on it was. Wow! Big order! But I did the best I could with both subjects. He listened carefully, thanked me, and then began handing out flyers again.

I was a little uneasy when the reporters and photographer showed up. It was one thing to be there supporting Stan and Doug, not to mention a cause I believed in, but I also had had my orders from Father John to be as inconspicuous as possible. So I tried to stay out of sight or at least in the background as the photographer was moving around, doing his job.

The afternoon went as quickly as the morning had, and there was little unpleasantness. I wondered if these affable people who smiled and said "good morning" or "good afternoon," or "hi, how ya doin"?" were the same ones who might later dump garbage on someone's lawn or rip up a convertible top. The vagaries of the human heart never cease to amaze me.

We all stopped at a pancake house on the way home, where the guys filled up on carbs and fat. Tim and I had salads. I asked him if that meant we were getting old, and he just smiled, shook his head, and chewed his greens.

Everybody was a little tired when we got back to Doug's, I think more from the expenditure of nervous energy than from being on our feet all day. There was plenty to drink and nibble on, and I think we all just enjoyed rehashing the day, comparing experiences, and generally being together. All evening Doug had this sparkle in his eye as if he were elated by what had happened. I didn't think we had managed to be more than a minor inconvenience to the Diocese of Mid-Florida, but maybe they'd get some negative publicity. I hoped so. Treasonous thoughts, I know, but I did! Doug, however, seemed to be pleased that he had managed to make his statement to the diocese and to Bishop Wenn. He told us repeatedly how overwhelmed he was that we'd all come to stand by him and Stan.

Back in the room I was treated once more to the sight of Philip naked. With his lean body, dark hair, mustache and goatee, he looked somehow Mephistophelean. I don't mean I thought he was evil, it was just a visual image. At least I think that's all it was. But he certainly did contrast with Geoff Benton in looks. I found myself feeling sorry for Geoff, though there was nothing I could put my finger on to explain why I felt that way. Besides, Geoff was a year older than Philip, or I assumed he was, since he was in grad school and Philip was a senior, Geoff had withstood the pressure of varsity competition, and he performed with skill and poise before groups regularly. He could probably handle the likes of Philip Halifax. I hoped.

Even though I was tired, I had some trouble getting to sleep. I couldn't help wondering how David was. I knew he was in Chicago at one of the downtown hotels. I assumed he had done his consulting during the day and wondered how he had spent his evening. Drinks and dinner and more drinks with some of the people whose company he was visiting? I hadn't really inquired too much into how he spent his time away from home. We had talked about everything in the world but that. And, of course, there had been some pretty great sex, occasionally hot, more often tender, and that was no time for q & a. Oh well, I'd see him at the weekend. We'd established that before we both left town. I rolled over with my back to Philip's bed and grabbed my rigid cock . . . .

The next morning we all went back to Doug's. I was glad Tim and I had been invited to stay behind and spend the day with Stan and Doug. Lord! Does that mean Timmy and I are getting old? We're both this side of thirty by a couple or three years, and those two were nearly old enough to be our fathers. But they were also very intelligent men who had been around, who had seen and done things. And, face it, they were both sexy, in their middle-aged sort of way.

When the two convertibles left for the Disney complex, Doug set out juice and poured coffee while Stan presented a plate of pecan rolls. Tim looked at me, grinned, rolled his eyes, and reached for a roll, so I did, too.

It was a great morning. Doug and Tim wanted to talk shop, so I got to spend some meaningful time getting to know Stan. He asked me about being at seminary, about how I liked me job at St. Peter's, and about David. He'd heard about David from Mark and Ced, apparently.

I got him to tell me about raising Mark as a single parent. From there he went on to tell me about the sad affair with Leigh, the guy who treated him so badly in Meadville. He said he'd never been so happy as he was with Doug. I told him that was perfectly obvious to anyone who watched them, and that Doug was clearly just as happy.

At some point, I let slip that I had had a thing for Tim back at Kenyon but that neither of us knew the other was gay. I grinned as I told him that Tim seemed to have a reasonably active straight sex life back then. "So, what was I to think?" I loved him. I valued our friendship. I didn't want to screw it up by coming on to him if he was straight."

"Max, I know that feeling. Doug and I were doing that very difficult dance here for a couple of months before we found out that we were both gay and both had the tropical hots for each other. Too bad you and Tim didn't make the same discovery a long time ago."

Well, then I had to tell him about Andrew. Stan can seem a little overwhelming at times, but he teared up when I explained how much I had loved Andrew and what had happened to him.

"Max, if Mark knows that story, he never told me." He put his hand on my knee. "I'm so sorry, my friend. You've had it tough, haven't you?"

"I can't complain, Stan. I'm just beginning what looks like a promising relationship with David, and I've got a fantastic bunch of friends in the Brotherhood."

Just then Doug looked over and said, "Stanley, unhand that young man! He's taken. And so are you!"

Tim nearly choked on some coffee he had been sipping. When he got it down, he said, "Yeah, you two! I'm gonna tell David!"

Stan chuckled and said, "Bring David down here! I'm ready for him. He and I have to talk about our sexy red convertibles."

"Nice save, Stan," Tim said, grinning at him.

"Remind me to tell you about my first outing in David's Corvette sometime," I said.

"How about doing that over lunch?"

We'd all been so engrossed in getting to know one another that none of us had noticed the morning slipping by.

A couple of us made visits to the john, and then we all piled in to Doug's "hearse" for the short drive to the Ridenour Gardens. Tim groused, "I was hoping for a ride in the Bird, Stanley."

"Not room for more than two, babe. But we can do it later if you want. You and Max could take her for a spin when we get back."

"Uh uh! No way am I driving that thing," Tim said, pretending to be horrified.

"Me neither. David's Vette scares me to death."

"OK," Doug said, "if there's time, Stan, you take Tim for a ride and Max and I will find something to do."

"Yeah, Dougie," Stan said, "you just want to get rid of Tim and me so you can feel Max up. You want payback, right?"

Well, we were all still laughing at that when Doug stopped at the entrance to the Gardens, showed the gatekeeper a card, and we drove onto the grounds. We drove for about a mile, I'd guess, through orange groves. Then we came to a large parking lot which must be unique among Florida attractions because it is almost entirely tree shaded.

We went into the cafeteria attached to the beautiful visitors' center, Spanish Mission style, as is just about everything in that area of Florida. Doug insisted on buying our lunch, which we took outside and ate at a table under a lovely arbor. The patio area was surrounded by colorful plants. (Don't ask me what. I'm not a gardener. But it was pretty, and many of the flowers were things I'd never seen in either Ohio or California.)

As we ate, I apologized to Tim for the repetition and then told Doug and Stan about my wild ride with David in the Vette.

After lunch, we strolled the paths under the huge old liveoaks. Occasionally we'd come to some benches, and we'd just sit and enjoy the beautiful day or chat. My emotions were somewhat conflicted that afternoon. Tim and I were with a gay couple, and Tim and I weren't together, and I was keenly aware of that irony. At other times, I wished Andrew were there, especially when I saw something particularly beautiful among the plantings, wanting to share it with him. And, once in a while, I thought of David. I liked David a lot. We had recently begun having wonderful sex. I hoped that with him I could move toward the kind of love I'd had for Tim and Andrew. But I knew we weren't there yet.

Tim and I told our hosts that we wanted to take them to dinner someplace nice. At first they resisted, but eventually we convinced them we really wanted to do that. So they suggested they had been wanting to try the newly-refurbished Grille at the Terrace Hotel in downtown Parkerville. We all changed out of our shorts and drove to Parkerville, where we had a nice meal. The Grille was in what had been the lobby of the old hotel. The ceilings were two stories high, supported by marble columns. There were crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths. I was afraid we'd gotten into something pricier than Tim and I had had in mind when we said "someplace nice," but the meal was excellent, the service attentive, and the bill less disastrous than I had expected. Tim showed it to me, put his AmEx card on the folder, and said, "We can settle up when we get home, Max." Leave it to Tim.

Back at Doug's the guys didn't show up until fairly late. They had stayed until the parks closed. Doug offered chocolate chip cookies and milk, and everybody, including Tim and me tore into them. They were all talking at once about what they had seen and done at Disney. Finally, someone noticed how late it was and reminded us all that we had to get up early the next morning to get to the airport.

There wasn't much conversation on the plane as we returned to Cleveland because most of us slept.

The day after we all arrived back, a large bouquet was delivered to the apartment of each person or pair who had made the trip. The card on mine just said, "Love, Doug."

We heard later from Doug that the local media hadn't done much with the story of our demonstration, but that it had been picked up by some national Episcopal news services.

In Ohio, things were a little different. Philip had an article with pictures (I never saw him taking pictures, but those digital cameras are small) in the next edition of the campus newspaper. Soon after that there were articles, again with pictures, in the Akron Beacon Journal and the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Most of us were shown in the pictures, including yours truly. Not only that, but he listed the names of each of us who had gone to Florida to be with Doug. He described us as if we were heroes. He also said that this was a mixture of straight and gay men, but, of course, he never said who was which. I couldn't help thinking, though, that Tim and Cedric, Trey and Chaz were getting closer and closer to being out on our campus.

STEVE:

I just wanted to add a few things from my perspective.

In all that bunch of guys swirling around Doug's place, only two of us were straight. I enjoyed rooming with Mark, though we didn't get a chance to talk much because there were always other guys around. But Mark and I were becoming pretty good friends since Becca and I had started double dating with him and Lori most weekends. Mark's a great guy, and his dad's pretty cool, too. In fact, it was kind of cute seeing those two older guys so much in love with each other.

Oh, I also met Blair the day of the demonstration. He is a cool guy. I told him I thought he was a good friend to Doug to show up there. His comment was that he had known and liked and respected Doug for six months. He thought it was fantastic that I'd show up there for a guy I didn't even know. I explained that it was partly to support all my friends.

"But Doug told me just now that you and Mark are straight, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

He laughed. "So nothing, I guess. I'm here too. Are you, Stan's son, and I the only straight guys here?"

"Well, that dude over there talking to Cedric is Doug's next-door neighbor, and he's married and is the father of that kid over there waving that placard."

"Cool."

So much for straightening things out. Woops, there's that word we all keep tripping over!

The last night we were in Florida, the other guys had gone back to the Hampton. Mark and I were leaving Doug's house to go over to Stan's where we were sleeping. As Mark was saying goodbye to his dad, Doug thanked me again for coming along to stand with him in Waltersburg.

"Doug, thanks to Tim, I've become a part of this group of guys. I can't describe it, but they're unbelievable. I really feel as if we're all brothers. Besides, Mark and I are getting to know each other better because his Lori and my Becca are good friends. When I heard Mark's dad and his, well, and you, were having these problems and the others were coming down to show their support, I wouldn't have missed being here!"

He held out his hand as if to shake mine. I grabbed him and hugged him tight.

When we broke apart, he smiled at me. "Steve, you're right. You are a part of a unique group of men. I hope you know how lucky you are."

"Count on it!"

Mark and his dad were finished, so I got a hug from Stan while Mark hugged Doug. Those two had some things to say to each other, so I told Stan I thought he was pretty lucky to have Doug, and he gave me that dazzling smile of his and told me he knew how lucky he was. Then he told me that he was "Pops" for the whole group of us, and that I should always feel free to get in touch with him if I had a problem he could help with.

I came away from Florida happy, humbled, and frustrated. We had all had a great time, and I felt as if I had gotten to know all the guys from school better. I was also happy to have gotten to know Stan, Doug, and Blair. (Blair and I are going to exchange emails. He's thinking he may apply to our graduate business school to their MBA program next year. Wouldn't that be neat?) I was humbled because I had in a few short months found myself part of, as Doug and I had agreed the previous evening, a remarkable group of men. But I was also frustrated because I was sure, in the larger scheme of things, what all of us had done in Waltersburg had accomplished nothing positive. I'm glad we were there for Doug as he did what he felt he had to do, making a public declaration of his bishop's bigotry, but I couldn't help wondering whether there'd ever be any improvement in the situation in a place like central Florida.

I got to do something on the plane on the way home that I'd been wanting to do for a long time. I asked Trey to trade seats with me for a while. He gave me his sleepy smile and said, "Sure, Steve, I can sleep in one of these back-breakers as well as another."

I slipped in next to Chaz, who had been staring out the window until I came over. "Whassup, dude?" he asked. "Chaz, I have wanted to thank you for something and just haven't had the chance to do it."

"What's that?" he asked, grinning.

"Well, I've been told about something that took place in the mall parking lot involving six tall guys in black."

He made his face deadpan as he said, "I don't know what you're talking about. Sounds like those dudes might have been doing something illegal, ya know, taking the law into their own hands."

"Well, Chaz, if you should ever run into any guys you think might have been part of that vigilante group, please tell them I said `thanks'! You know, Sgt. Ibrahim told me that it was that encounter which helped motivate Jared to come in and admit what he and the others did."

Still playing dumb, he merely said, "Is that so?" But this time he was beginning to grin a little.

"Yeah, that's so! And I just want you to know I appreciate what those six guys did for me, even if I'll never be able to thank them properly."

"Cool." Then he asked me how things were going with Rebecca.

CHAZ:

When Mark called and told me the kind of shit his dad and his new partner, Doug, were getting, I knew we had to go down and help them out. It was bad enough that some stupid redneck had torn up the top of Stan's T-Bird (a nice car even if my dad doesn't sell it!) and that someone had dumped garbage all over Doug's front yard, I was pissed. But when I heard the stupid son of a bitch of a bishop had yanked Doug's license to be a lay reader, I wanted to go down there and confront the bastard.

The only problem was the basketball season had started, and I'd have to be away. I checked the schedule and saw that I'd not miss any games if we were gone from Monday to Thursday, but, of course, I'd miss daily practice, and that's really important this early in the season, when the team is trying to meld together.

I knew that if I told Coach Johnson, he'd tell me I couldn't go. At the beginning of basketball season, a few weeks earlier, he had given us all his email address in case we needed to get in touch with him. When Trey told me about Mark's call, I knew I had to go with the guys, so I decided just to send the coach an email explaining why I had to go and telling him I'd be there for Thursday's practice.

When I got to the Field House, I got into my practice uniform, as usual. On my locker, though, was a note from the Coach saying I would practice with the second team that day and I should see him after practice.

Second team? Me? He must have been really pissed with me, so I figured I'd just practice with the second squad and keep my mouth shut until I saw him.

After practice, I knocked on the door of his office.

"Greeley! You've got a hell of a lot of nerve, my boy!"

"Yeah, Coach?"

"Oh, yeah! What the fuck do you mean sending me an email announcing you are going to Florida for four days and missing practice?"

"Well, Coach, this was something I HAD to do."

"Yeah? Tell me more about it."

I explained about Mark's dad (the coach knows Mark because he's on the varsity baseball team) and his new partner and what was happening to them in Florida.

"Don't tell me Mark Mason's gay?"

"No, Coach, but his dad is. And he's a great guy."

"So you figured you had to go to Florida and stand beside your friend's dad?"

"Yes, coach."

"You sure it wasn't just to get away from school, this cold weather, and basketball practice?"

"Come on, Coach. You know me better than that."

"Yeah, well maybe I do. But look, Greeley, if you're going to play on my team, you've got to be here. Not out somewhere being a friggin social activist. HERE! You've gotta make up your mind, son, whether you want to play on this team or not. And if you do, then it takes total dedication. Got that?"

"Yessir."

"OK, then. You're staying with the second squad for the next week, and you're sitting out this week's game with Pitt. Got that?"

"Aww, Coach!"

"Don't give me any of that shit. Look, Chaz, I kind of respect you for going down there to help Mason's dad. Don't tell anybody I said so, though. But you have to understand that being on my team takes total commitment. You just don't leave and miss practice because you have something you think is more important. So, unless there's a death in your family, you WILL BE at practice for the rest of the season. Every day! Got that?"

"Yeah."

"What's that?"

"Yessir, Coach!"

"OK, boy, now get out of here."

CEDRIC:

On Friday evening after we had gotten back from Florida on Thursday, Tim was sitting reading in the living room and listening to Rachmaninoff's Third Piano Concert on the stereo when I got home.

"Timmy, I'm ho-ome," I said, as I always did.

He put down his book, took off his glasses, and came toward me. We had our usual long, deep, kiss.

"So, baby," I asked, "what's up?"

He picked up something from the coffee table. It was a folded note, cream with a blue edge, with the monogram GMF on the front. I looked at him, and he said, "Read it."

It was a handwritten note from Dr. Gwen Fairchild. She said she wanted to have a party before everyone got away from campus for the holidays. It would have a holiday theme, but it was primarily to honor Tim for the publication of his article and the forthcoming publication of his book on dos Passos by the Stanford University Press.

I hugged him. "Lover, this is great! I'm SO proud of you. And it's great that you are getting the recognition you deserve!"

I sensed as I held him against me that something wasn't right..

"Tim, something's wrong. What is it, babe?"

"Did you read the whole invitation?"

"Well, almost."

"Read it all, please."

Dr. Fairchild had ended by telling Tim that he was free to bring a guest to her party. Then there were the usual R.S.V.P. initials and her signature.

"Oh!"

"Yeah, sweetheart. You've got to come with me."

"But, Tim, this is a faculty party. I can't go."

"If you don't go, then I won't go."

"Aww, Tim, come on. This is going to be a big night for you. You've gotta go."

"Ced, it will be mostly couples. I'm sure Gwen is asking all the single members of the department faculty to bring dates if they want. It would be churlish of me to refuse to go, since the party is partly in my honor."

"Partly? Partly!! Babe, this party is to celebrate what you've accomplished. You are setting this department on fire with your scholarship. Your boss wants to honor you. You can't NOT go!"

"As I said, I'll go only if you go. If I've done anything to deserve recognition, I want you to share in it."

"Have you thought of what it will mean if I go?"

"Yes, hon, of course I have. We'll be outing ourselves on this campus."

"And that is bad because . . . ?"

"Look, Ced, with these new publications, I'll take my chances on being outed. But what about you? What about your teammates on the baseball team?"

I thought about that for a while.

"Well, you know Tim, half the people who saw those articles in the local papers will already have assumed I'm gay. I mean, in the popular mind, you can't stick up for gay people unless you're gay yourself, right?"

Tim nodded. "I hear you."

I chuckled. "Well, little stud, if half of my teammates think I'm gay, maybe it's time the other half found out. Now the only problem is to decide what we're going to wear!"

[Look for chapter 36 in about a week.]