Lush Life

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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LUSH LIFE

by

Ritch Christopher

Chapter Seven

"THERE'S NO YOU"

I feel the autumn breeze,

It steals 'cross my pillow

As soft as a will-o'-the-wisp,

And in its song, there is sadness

Because there's no you.

The lonely autumn trees,

How softly they're sighing,

For summer is dying,

They know that in my heart

There's no gladness

Because there's no you,

The park that we walked in,

The garden we talked in,

How lonesome they seem in the fall,

The stormy clouds hover,

And falling leaves cover

Our favorite nook in the wall,

In spring, we'll meet again,

We'll kiss and recapture

The summertime rapture we knew,

And from that day,

Never more will I say there's no you.

"There's No You"

Lyrics by Tom Adair

Music by Hal Hopper

copyright 1944

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After five days and nights at Job's Retreat, Dave knew every gospel hymn in the world by heart. He was stronger, able to walk, but he kept that secret from Mildred, Wilbur, and Daryl for he knew that the three of them would have him attending nightly services at the mission or passing the offering plate. Late in the evening when he was sure that everyone had visited him for the last time of that day, he managed to exercise as well as he could without inviting pain or injury to his post-op condition.

However, during the morning and throughout the day, in spite of the guilty feeling it brought, he assumed the role of an invalid, making Daryl or Wilbur bring his meals to him. Mildred had changed his bandages daily and removed the sutures. She claimed his wounds were healing nicely on their own, BUT she still wouldn't rule out that her praying to the Almighty had a positive effect on his getting well.

After the fourth day, Dave began making plans for his escape. One early evening when everyone was gone for street duty, Dave rummaged through the donated clothing and handpicked the nicest ware that would fit him, including a pair of leather shoes. He also had watched Mildred stash the nightly cash in a small strong box, which she kept in the bottom drawer of her desk. Dave calculated there must be between three and five hundred dollars accumulated from the weekly offering haul. That would be enough cash to get him a bus ticket to somewhere out of New York until he could find some way to get some money out of his bank account.

Also, on that day, Mildred had been forgetful and left her cell phone on her desk in the room where Dave slept. He made almost half a dozen calls to Cole Institute in Briarwood, trying to reach Clay or Clay's superior, Dr. Ed Middleton. It was after 5:00 PM when he finally reached Dr. Ed, only to learn that Clay was NOT at Cole, but was in New York (probably at Dave's apartment!). He left one message for Ed to relate to Clay...he never wanted to see him again. Having made the call to end his and Clay's relationship, Dave carefully returned the phone to Mildred's desk, with the realization of what he had been forced to give up in losing Clay.

One of the clothing donors had contributed a large amount of shirts and pants in a red plaid vinyl suitcase. Dave took the case and packed the best looking of his newly acquired wardrobe along with a couple of disposable Gillette razors, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.

The following night was Friday. Dave learned that after the evening 'hallelujah' service, everyone left the mission and paraded through the East Village across Broadway and held a midnight prayer meeting in Washington Square. This would become Dave's 'zero hour' and his chance to disappear into the New York night WITH a pocket full of God's money...then onward to Jersey, Canada, or some other destination far from the auspices of the Village police precinct. He would become a fugitive, but it was either that or face a year or two in a New York lock-up and be subjected to another rape or even worse.

During the past week, late at night when Dave was alone, he almost wished the thugs who sexually assaulted him HAD killed him. He was humiliated, but even worse, he felt as if his manhood had been taken from him. He never wanted to see the Rustic Inn...Rick, Leo, Ray, Jay, or Tony ever again, but more so, he never wanted them to look at him again if they knew what had happened at the precinct. It took every ounce of emotional strength and determination Dave could muster to make the phone call to Dr. Ed. He loved Clay more than anything in his life, but he could never face him again. He swore if he should meet Clay coming down to street, Dave would jump in front of the next oncoming vehicle and kill himself rather than have Clay's eyes staring at him. He would rather be dead.

No matter how loving and forgiving Clay might be, no matter how Clay could ignore the physicality of his assault from a medical viewpoint, Dave knew his rape would always be between them, always blocking any future in their relationship. Dave would never forget Clay and the short-lived happiness they had known, but that was the end of it. Dave would NEVER love anyone again and as soon as Clay could accept the fact that Dave was out of his life, Clay could go on with HIS life and find someone new. That was best for both of them, Dave thought.

So, Friday night came, and everything went on schedule as Dave planned. As soon as Mildred and the 'missionaries' left, he took the cash from Mildred's desk; put on the best pair of pants, shirt, socks, and shoes he had found; grabbed the suitcase and flagged the first cab in sight.

"Where to, Mister?" the taxi driver asked.

"Uh...the nearest Greyhound bus station," Dave replied.

There was one midtown on around 34th. He would buy a ticket on the next bus leaving town, no matter where or in which direction. He hopped out of the taxi, only paying the driver the amount shown on the meter without a tip. The money Dave had stolen was now vital for his getaway and survival. He had to make every dollar count to its fullest advantage.

Things had gone so bad for Dave for the past week, he could hardly believe his eyes when he saw a sign behind the Greyhound ticket seller's window..."End of summer---cross country special rates! We Take YOU where you want to go...ANYWHERE for Fifty Dollars!" Jesus Christ! How could he get so lucky by stealing 'God's money'?

"What time does your next bus leave?" Dave asked the seller.

"Going where?"

"The next bus with that special rate you're advertising."

"We have a bus leaving in ten minutes for points west."

"How far west?"

"Well, if you don't mind the layovers and changing buses around a half dozen times, you can go as far as the sun goes...California!"

"Give me one ticket, one-way!"

"San Francisco far enough?"

"San Francisco is just where I had in mind. My mother lives there!" Dave lied, plopping down two tens, four fives, and ten one dollar bills on the counter."

"That's fifty dollars PLUS tax, sir."

"Whatever!" Dave snarled, counting out ten more one-dollar bills.

"Let's see now, you'll have to change buses in D.C., again in Cleveland, Chicago, St. Louis..."

"It doesn't matter! I'll change whenever I HAVE to. I'll play it by ear."

The ticket agent took out the tax from Dave's stack of ones and handed him the change. The ticket, with the transfers, was almost a yard long. The agent folded the stream of blue paper and stuffed it into an envelope and handed it to Dave.

"That bus is boarding now on Gate 'H'. You'd better hurry to get you the best seat. If you're not used to riding buses, I'd suggest you take a seat toward the back of the bus, nearest the restroom."

"Thanks!"

Dave couldn't run or even walk fast due to his soreness, but he made his way out the door down to the correct gate. He didn't bother to check his suitcase. He took it on board and put it over his seat, which was way in the front of the bus. The seats nearest the bathroom were already occupied. It had been years since Dave had taken a bus, not even a local Manhattan transport, and it only took one whiff of the carbon-monoxide exhaust fumes to awaken his sense memory. At first he thought he would get sick to his stomach, but soon the driver closed the door and the bus air conditioner made the air tolerable. Soon the bus pulled out on 34th and headed west and then north to exit from Manhattan through the Lincoln Tunnel.

As soon as Dave knew he was in New Jersey, he felt his first sense of relief in almost a week. He had escaped New York, but every mile westward was carrying him further from Clay, the one he loved.

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Clay had had the entire weekend to ponder if he should scout the remaining nine places of potential employment on his list or if he should just go ahead and accept the position at St. Bart's? Twice he picked up his phone to call Tom and ask his advice and twice he had placed the phone back into its cradle because he knew that Tom would insist that Clay hold out for the biggest paying job, not necessarily the one where Clay would be the happiest. Still, Clay wanted to talk it over with someone.

Sunday night at the Inn, the band only played from 7:00 to 10:00PM. Clay arrived early before the quartet began and caught Benny's attention before he headed to the back room to unpack his trumpet.

"Hey, Benny", Clay called from his usual table.

"What's up, Doc?" Benny echoed his familiar greeting.

"You get off at ten, right?"

"Yep."

"Do you have plans to go out to eat afterwards?"

"Nothing I can't reschedule."

"I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me?"

"Tonight? Sure?"

"Now, I'm only talking 'dinner' and nothing else. Is that understood?"

"You mean you don't feel like fighting off any advances I might make on you?"

"Exactly."

"I suppose I could behave myself on our first date."

"It's NOT a date, Benny, it's just dinner because I need to talk with you."

"Wanna give me a preview...talk about what?"

"I...I have a decision to make the first thing in the morning and you're the only person I know who will listen without 'telling' me what I SHOULD do."

"Okeydoke! Where do you wanna go?"

"I...I had planned on cooking spaghetti, meatballs, and a salad for myself at home, but that's a dish you can always stretch."

"I could go for some meatballs. I'm a real ball gobbler, or so I've been told."

"I'm talking about ITALIAN meatballs, not IRISH, you idiot!"

"Irish? What do you mean?"

"Private joke...skip it!"

"Could we get some Chianti to go with it?"

"I...I already have a bottle."

"Then, it's a date...a DINNER date."

"Nothing more, right?"

"Nothing more..." Benny complied. "Hey, I gotta run. See ya at my first break!"

"I'll be sitting here until you get off."

"Any requests?"

"Just, please, don't play THAT song..."

"Huh? Oh, you mean, 'The Boy Next...'?"

"Yes, that one."

"Okay, but the third song...the one I'll sing, that'll be just for you."

"Thanks, I can't wait."

Benny ran to the back room, opened his case, and took out his trumpet. Rick, Leo, and Ray were already in place when Benny returned to the bandstand. He stopped to see what Rick had chosen to open with.Next, Rick counted out four beats and played a four bar intro. Next, Benny put the trumpet to his lips and played, 'You came to me, from out of nowhere...". The second number, Rick played the first chorus of Strayhorn's 'I Got It Bad And That Ain't Good', all the way through, followed by Benny's solo on the second chorus.

The medium size Sunday night crowd was very responsive and applauded enthusiastically while Benny leaned over to tell Rick the title of the third tune. Then Benny took the mike and in his best Chet Baker voice, began to sing,

"This is the end of a beautiful friendship.

It ended a moment ago.

This is the end of a beautiful friendship.

I know 'cause your eyes told me so."

Clay seemed puzzled. He wasn't familiar with this old Ella Fitzgerald song. Benny DID say the third tune, didn't he? 'The END of a beautiful friendship? What was he trying to say? Then, Benny continued with the lyrics of the last sixteen bars.

"We were always like sister and brother

Until tonight when we looked at each other.

That was the end of a beautiful friendship

And just the beginning of love."

Clay thought he'd made a huge mistake when he heard the last line of song. 'Beginning of love'? Is this what Benny really wanted to say to Clay? Suddenly Clay wished he'd never invited Benny home for dinner. Their feelings toward one another were not on the same page. Clay missed Dave and he only wanted to be friends with Benny, nothing more. Clay's first impulse was to get up and leave but he knew if it did so, he'd never be able to face Benny again, nor could he ever return to the Inn, which was his only nightly refuge.

Clay set himself on guard. He would pay close attention to the tunes in the set to see if Benny was actually trying to hit on him through songs and lyrics. Benny sang the entire ballad looking directly at Clay. Clay did his best to not lock his eyes in a fixed gaze at Benny, so he scanned his attention from Rick to Leo to Ray and back again.

The next tune was bright, but again, it had a subliminal message, 'I'm Beginning To See The Light'. Clay felt more at ease during the next medley consisting of girls' names, 'Laura', 'Stella By Starlight', 'Peg O' My Heart', 'Delores`, and 'Linda'. The remainder of the song set was on safe ground for Clay, as he felt no pressure from musical messages.

When ten o'clock rolled around, Clay made his way over to see Rick, Leo, and Ray to touch base and tell them how much he had enjoyed their music...also, to see, if by chance, any of the three had news of Dave. They hadn't. Then, with trumpet case in hand, Benny bounced from the back room and interrupted Clay's conversation by asking, rather loudly.

"Hey, Doc! You ready to go? I'm starved."

The other band members looked at Benny then back at Clay as if to wonder what was going on. They exchanged glances of disbelief among themselves as Benny and Clay left the Inn together.

The night air was almost cold as Clay and Benny walked to Dave's apartment.

"You...you sounded great, as usual," Clay said as they walked.

"You seem to inspire me," Benny replied. "I don't know what it is but looking at you brings out the best in me when I'm playing."

"That's funny," Clay said, "that's what Dave used to say."

"Still no word from him?"

"Nothing."

"He's a goddamned fool!"

"Why do you say that?"

"He's got this great looking hunk, who happens to be a doctor, waiting with baited breath for his return. Damn! I'd come running back to you in a minute...come rain or come...whatever!"

"I'm sure wherever he is, he has his reasons," Clay said, "but I KNOW he'll come back."

The rest of the way to the apartment, Clay kept the conversation light, mostly about music. He did NOT want to ask Benny the reason for the song dedication or what he meant by it. Clay thought that would be an open invitation for Benny to tell him how much he cared about him... and THAT, Clay didn't want to know.

When they arrived at Dave's digs, Clay took Benny's coat and hung it in the closet. He asked Benny if he'd light a fire in the fireplace and showed him Dave's CD collection and asked for him to choose the music while he prepared dinner.

Benny was like a kid in Macy's Christmas toy department when he saw Dave's CD library. There were literally hundreds of albums, some of them were very rare and out of print. Clay was in the kitchen wondering what type of music or which artists Benny would choose. He was a bit amazed when he heard Frank Sinatra's 'Point Of No Return' begin to play. This was one of Sinatra's best Capitol recordings, beginning with, 'When The World Was Young', 'I'll Remember April', and 'September Song'.

"Anything I can do to help?" Benny asked, appearing at the kitchen door. "I can make a mean tossed salad."

"There's a bowl, a butcher knife, and the salad stuff is in the refrigerator."

"A butcher knife and not a scalpel?"

"No, I keep my scalpel in my pocket to defend myself from horny trumpet players. You'll have to use the butcher knife...sorry!"

"Yipes! At least you warned me before I got my throat incised!"

Benny went to the refrigerator and took out lettuce, tomatoes, scallions, a bell pepper, a few pepperocini, and a can of croutons. He began slicing and dicing while Clay made the meatballs and sauce. They finished about the same time. Next, Clay asked Benny to cut the Italian bread and baste it with garlic butter as he put the water on the burner for the pasta.

Ten minutes later, both were seated at the dining table. Clay lit two tall candles and the CD changer segued into the next album, 'Chet With Strings'. Soon the trumpet and voice of Chet Baker were filling a very romantic setting with the likes of 'I'll Remember You', 'When I Fall In Love', and 'Autumn In New York'. Neither Clay nor Benny, said a word. They let Chet do the talking for them.

Benny filled the glasses with a bit more Chianti than Clay would've preferred, as he didn't want to get high...or even slightly high. They ate slowly as Clay began to tell Benny the real reason for the dinner invitation. He explained about the twelve job-search and how he felt about St. Bart's. Benny dropped any facade he might have been covering behind and became genuinely interested in what Clay was saying. He almost felt honored that Clay would ask his opinion since Benny really HAD no friends who ever asked his viewpoint about anything. Clay was a REAL person and treated him like one, too. This made Benny's feelings for Clay stronger and deeper...not just a quick roll in the hay, which Benny had wanted. Somehow Benny was developing an honest friendship...the first in a long, long, time.

When Clay finished telling Benny about his dilemma, Benny spoke. "So you want me to tell you what to do? Or rather, you want to hear what I would do if I were in your shoes?"

"I'm open to suggestions. I...I had no one else I could trust."

"Then, I say, 'FUCK THE OTHER NINE'! Take the job at St. Bart's. You'll only have two bosses and both of them are really under the thumb of your friend, Doctor Ed. I mean, you're not signing a 'run of the play' contract. If you don't like it, you can quit and pursue one of the others. BUT, if you DO like it, you'll never have a regret about NOT taking it."

"That's really the way I was thinking. I just wanted someone else to say it out loud so I could hear it."

"Clay?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for asking me. I seldom find someone who wants to know what I think."

"You know, Benny, I'm seeing a side of you I bet you don't let many people see...not even yourself, I bet."

"I've already told you how much you bring out in my music when I look at you. Now, you've sorta opened up the REAL me."

"Does it scare you?"

"Tremendously! I...I have nothing to hide behind." Even his joke was an attempted cover-up.

"Maybe that's why you've never fallen in love. You won't let someone get to know the real you."

"How many times have you been in love, Clay?"

"Once...Only once."

"With Dave, huh?"

"Yes."

"Why not before Dave? I mean, the business you're in, the medical profession, you must've met lots of guys AND girls. Surely there's been someone before Dave."

"Maybe I was like you. I hid the real me and it took Dave to help me manifest my true self."

'Chet With Strings' finished playing and the next CD was 'The Ballad Style of Stan Kenton'. The first song was, 'Early Autumn'.

"Hey, would you be uncomfortable if I asked you to dance?" Benny said. "I...I'm not very good, but musicians NEVER get the chance to dance."

"Sure, I'll trust you." Clay replied with a smile.

They got up from the table and both of them awkwardly put up their left hands as they both wanted to lead. They, immediately, they put their left hands down and raised their right hands as if to follow.

"Shit!" Benny laughed. "Who's gonna be the girl?"

"Neither. There's nothing girl-like about either of us. Just put your arms around my waist and we'll both be the man."

Their arms went around each other's midsection and pulled their hips tightly together and began to dance. Neither of them was adept at footwork, so they just walked around circling in one spot.

"Dave's a pretty lucky guy to have you," Benny said.

"You'll find someone like Dave some day, Benny."

"I don't think there's another guy in the world who can make me forget about myself the way you do me when I look into your eyes."

"Benny, please, you promised you wouldn't try anything."

"I'm only saying what I'm feeling. I'm not trying to put the make on you."

"I think we'd better stop," Clay said.

"Why?"

"Because I know you want to kiss me."

"You said that, Clay, because you want to kiss me, don't you?"

"No, I..."

Benny interrupted Clay's remark by pressing his lips onto Clay's. Clay tried to push Benny backward to free himself from Benny's embrace, but Benny's hands were locked together behind Clay's waist. Clay tried again and on the third try, Clay submitted and began to kiss Benny. He put his hands behind Benny's head and their lips opened instantaneously as their tongues probed deeply into the other's mouth.

Perhaps Benny was acting only as a substitute for the absent Dave, but Clay began to make love to him. Benny, on the other hand, never kissed anyone during his sexual trysts and what he felt toward Clay was honest and genuine emotion.

Guilt set aside, Clay needed this tension relief, which had built incessantly ever since Dave's disappearance. Doctor's and nurses are always the first to neglect their own health, physical or mental. Chills were racing up and down his spine. Benny was realized this was a new experience for him, as he never felt emotion while making love. 'Love'? Is that what Benny was feeling? He wasn't sure; as he'd never known love in the way he was feeling while embracing Clay.

Clay was just the opposite; he had never had the desire for physical contact without feeling something deeply for his partner. The one thing they both felt was the bulging erection in the other's pants, each trying to reach out toward the other.

The passion between them became more heated. As the kisses grew numerous, clothes were being torn from the two 'friends' who were embracing in the middle of the living room...shirts, pants, socks, shoes, and underwear were being scattered around the room until they were both naked. Flesh meeting flesh was the law of the moment. Hands began to explore the other's body, rubbing, caressing, and groping at every point.

Benny tried to walk their bodies backward to the couch, but Clay stopped him by saying, "No, the bed! Let's go into the bedroom."

The tight clinching torsos relaxed as the couple walked into the bedroom and they fell across the bed to resume their kissing. Clay knew in his conscious mind that he would regret this later, but at the moment, nothing seemed to matter. He wasn't in love with Benny but he needed Benny to release his pent up frustration and anxiety as if it were a form of emotional masturbation. He didn't consider this as cheating on Dave as he felt nothing for Benny above friendship. He rationalized his actions from a medical standpoint by thinking this was only a form of emotional and physical therapy. He yearned to reach a climax. He hadn't fantasized or tried to jack off since Dave had been gone.

Dave's king size bed practically assumed the scenario of a wrestling arena and with arms wrapped around each other's bodies and their lips locked in a semi-permanent kiss, Clay and Benny rolled over and over one another from one end of the mattress to the other.

Finally it was Benny who uttered the first word since the physical session began, "Clay, I'm sorry, but I have to have you...ALL of you."

Without hesitating, Clay replied, "Then, take me, goddamn it!"

In one svelte swoop, Benny made a lunge toward Clay's genitals, engulfing Clay's entire penis all the way to his pubes. Clay sighed a loud guttural sound, releasing all his suppressed tension. Benny's action wasn't romantic, but instead, rather aggressive, like a hungry Neanderthal attacking a huge raw meaty bone. He craved every part of Clay's lower body and began to lick Clay's inner thighs down to his knees and back up again to the sperm filled scrotum.

Benny's fast-growing actions excited Clay to an almost instantaneous climax in less than half a minute. Clay cried out loudly as he came. Benny didn't stop until he had cleaned and swallowed every drop of Clay's liquid offering. Then, with his tongue, he traced a path upward until he reached Clay's lips once again. Clay received Benny's intrusive tongue willingly as Benny rested his body on top of Clay's.

"Thank you," Benny uttered, exhausted and out of breath. "You... you don't have to do a thing to me. If you have any guilt, I don't want to add to it."

"I don't feel guilty, Benny, honest," Clay whispered. "Only...I WOULD like to stop."

"I understand," Benny replied, "honest I do."

Benny rolled off Clay's body and they lay side by side, panting and looking at the ceiling.

"Clay?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry if I went too far."

"It's OK. I could have stopped you at any moment had I wanted to."

"You...uh, don't feel guilty?"

"Maybe I should, but I don't..."

"I'm glad!"

"I can't help but believe Dave would had reacted as I did, if our situations were reversed. I only hope wherever he is, he's safe and happy. At this moment, I can only wish that someone is making feel as relaxed as I feel now."

"Then--you're not angry with me?"

"No, why should I be?"

"Look, I understand how you must love Dave, but something strangely peculiar happened to me when we kissed in the living room. I know you don't feel anything for me, but I suddenly felt I was in love with you. I've never felt that way before...EVER! About anyone !"

"Did you like the feeling?"

"I have to admit it scared me. It was like all my bedroom affairs before you were meaningless. Like I've been a fucking whoremonger all my life, never feeling, never allowing myself to feel..."

"That's how I felt before I met Dave. I didn't know how to love."

"Clay, if, or maybe I should say, 'when', Dave comes back, don't tell him about tonight. What happened was all my doing. I...I played the active role. You didn't do ANYTHING to me? Got it?"

"...Only because you didn't give me a chance..."

"You mean...? Are you sayin'...? Would you've...?"

"The night isn't over, Benny..."

"I know...but I don't think you should..."

"What if I REALLY want to?"

"Then, I'd be willing, I guess." His shy smile seemed innocent and child-like.

"Clay, it's late and I think you've probably missed your transportation to Jersey. So why don't you spend the night?"

"You...you really want me to?"

"Let me go blow out the candles and turn out the lights in the rest of the apartment. Go to the bathroom if you like and I'll be right back."

"You're sure...?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Clay did as he said he would, he blew out the candles, made sure the stove was turned off, and turned out the lights in the kitchen and living room. He stopped by the CD player and filled the carousel with eight different CD's, his favorites that he kept in a special pile. The first was a CD of Jack Sheldon and his mellow fleugelhorn, followed with another Chet Baker, then Shirley Horn, Claire Hogan, Mel Tormé, Paul Horn, George Shearing, and André Previn.

When he went back to the bedroom, Benny had returned from the bathroom and was lying in bed waiting. Clay walked around to Benny's side of the bed, pulled back the covers and carefully lay on top of Benny's still nude body. Benny was already hard with anticipation as Clay kissed him gently on the lips and whispered, "Now where were we?"

Clay eased down Benny's taut body and stopped when he reached the pelvic region. Benny gasped as Clay took him into his mouth and made love to him, slowly and pensively. After Benny reached an orgasm, Clay returned his head to share Benny's pillow and they both fell asleep.

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The following morning, Clay and Benny awoke, showered separately, and ate breakfast as two friends might, neither mentioning what had happened the night before. They conversed lightly about breakfast food, music, CD's, and Clay's decision of whether or not to accept the position at St. Bart's. Their parting at the door was nothing more than a friendly hug. What had happened had happened and they couldn't turn back the clock. They felt it best to let the actions of the night digest ith time and discuss it later if necessary.

Clay would have been lying to himself if he said he didn't feel a tinge of guilt, because he did. He didn't want to show Benny that he was a little upset over what had occurred. First of all, he didn't want to ruin his friendship with Benny, and secondly, an occasion might arise in the future when he might allow a repeat performance. But Clay didn't want to think about that just now, for as soon as Benny left, he made his decision. He ran to the closet and got a dark suit, white shirt, and tie and dressed hurriedly to go to St. Bart's where he promptly accepted the position, telling Doctors' Guest and Brantley he would be free to start next Monday, a week from today. His two new superiors were happy that Clay had agreed to come on board at St. Bart's and wasted no time in telling him so.

When Clay left the hospital, he returned to Dave's apartment to make two phone calls. He wanted Tom and Rachel to know where he would be working and for his second phone call, Clay just wanted to hear the sound of his mother's voice. She and Dave were all he loved in life and since Dave wasn't around to share his decision, Mom would have to suffice.

When Clay told Tom about taking the hospital job, Tom almost became offensive, telling Clay he could do much better; that he was too good for St. Bart's and he was wasting his talent in a low class facility. Tom began iterating the numerous positions he and Rachel had lined up for Clay to be interviewed, telling him he would be famous and practically a millionaire inside a year. Park Avenue was where Clay belonged...rich and classy with an upper-echelon clientele. His future as St. Bart's was treating homeless men and bag ladies; drunks, drug addicts, and street hustlers with AIDS.

Clay had known this would be Tom's reaction even before he called him, but he managed to soothe Tom's ire by promising to have dinner with him and Rachel on Friday night. Tom hoped that he and Rachel could talk Clay into being more practical over dinner and reassessing his decision before the following Monday.

'Good old Mom' was happy for Clay. Elizabeth had always supported every decision Clay had made throughout his life. She had treated him as an adult when John died and respected his opinion, even his lifestyle when he told her he was gay.

"I don't have to ask if you're sure that's what you want, son," Elizabeth said to him over the phone. "You've always done the right thing."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Clay," she said hesitantly, "you still haven't learned of Dave's whereabouts?"

"No, Mom."

"I light a candle for him every Sunday before I leave church. What happened to him was so dreadful. Even though I've never met him, I know how important he is in your life...which makes him important in my life. I'm sure you'll hear from him soon. I spoke with Robert about it and he's known several men who were assaulted like Dave...some in prisons, some were attacked on the street while being robbed, and Robert said that the emotional trauma far outweighs the physical damage. He says sometimes it takes professional therapy for one to recover. He said he knows that Dave is experiencing shame and lack of self-esteem. He has to confront his monstrous problem and accept himself as being a worthy person once again. When he comes to grips with that, he'll return to you and ask you to accept him."

"Mom, you know I will. I only wish I had him here now so that I could help him."

"Give Dave time, Clay. He'll come back...I promise."

"Mom, you always know how to say the right thing. You always have."

"Clay, when your father died, you were all I had in my life until I met Robert. I've always been here for you and I always will be."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, son...so does Robert."

"Uh...how many dogs does Robert have now?"

"DON'T ASK." Her voice held a tender smile.

"Why?"

"He's actually having war with the Weston Town Council. Your stepfather wants to build a kennel in back of the house. I don't think there's a limit on the amount of pets a person can own. I know there was no restriction in Plantation, so long as your animals were well-fed and cared for and were licensed and contained from roaming the streets unattended."

"How many, Mom?"

"Ten...!"

Clay laughed. "Good old Robert! He's taking up where I left off. If I could, and if I were still living at home, I'd probably have a dozen myself."

"Do you think there's any chance of your coming to Florida for Thanksgiving or Christmas? We'd love to see you. Maybe by then, Dave will be back and you can bring him with you?"

"God, that would be wonderful! Christmas...warm weather...Dave... you...Robert...the ten dogs. I couldn't ask for anything more."

"Think about it and let me know!"

"I will."

"Oh, Clay, before I forget, do you remember Scott Parsons, your friend who used to live next door to us?"

"Of course, Mom, he was my best friend."

"I ran into him the other day in Publix Supermarket and he asked about you."

"Good heavens? Where is he? What's he been doing?"

"He's the band director at some college...and please don't ask me its name because I don't remember, but it's up in New England somewhere. He asked about you and I told him you'd moved to New York... and I hope you don't mind, but I gave him Dave's phone number to call you. He was down here in Plantation visiting Emily, his mother, and was going back up north THIS weekend. I told him, if he had any reason to stop in New York, to give you a call."

"Damn, it would be great to see him. You know, I had two or three letters after he went away to college and that's the last I heard from him."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't get angry at me for giving him the phone number."

"No, Mom, I'm very glad you did."

"Clay, I want you to know, I'm really happy for you and your new job. I want you to be happy as well."

"I will, Mom."

"I don't have to say this, but anything you want...night or day, just call me or Robert..."

"I will, Mom, I promise. Give Robert my love and pat all ten dogs on their heads for me. Tell 'em it's from their step-brother, the doctor at St. Bart's in New York City!"

"I will, my love."

"Thanks, Mom, and goodbye."

"Goodbye, darling."

The call to his mother was exactly what Clay needed to lift his spirits and give him the encouragement he might've gotten from Dave. He looked about the room, trying to decide if he should paint the apartment and make its appearance more cheerful as he had a whole week before he was to assume his duties at his new work place. Then he decided against it in the same moment. He wanted everything kept in its place to remind him of Dave. It was still early afternoon and Clay thought he would take a walk...maybe even take a cab up to Central Park and spend the rest of the day there, sitting on a bench, observing the New York natives. So he went to the closet and retrieved a lightweight jacket and started to leave when the phone rang. His heart stopped before it began to pound in his chest. Perhaps it was Dave calling or someone who had heard from him.

"Hello?" he answered in a nervous voice.

"Clay?"

"Yes?"

"This is Scott...Scott Parsons, the boy next door."

"My God, Scott! I was just talking to my mother in Florida about you. She said you might be calling me, but I thought it'd be later in the week. Where are you?"

"I'm at JFK airport on my way to Boston."

"Jesus Christ! How long before your flight? Can I come and see you?"

"I called because I wanted to see you. I...don't have to take the next flight. I can get a plane to Boston at almost any hour."

"Then where can I meet you, Scott?"

"I don't know...you're the New Yorker, you tell me and I'll meet YOU there."

"Why don't you take a shuttle to Grand Central Station and I'll meet you there?"

"I'll do my best to find it."

"I'll wait however long it takes, I have nothing to do for a whole week."

"I hope it doesn't take THAT long for us to meet!"

"I'm kidding. You won't have any trouble. Do you think we'll recognize one another after all these years? Should I wear a purple hyacinth in my lapel or something?"

"I think I'll know you. I could never forget your eyes, Clay. I saw them in my sleep every night for years after I left you to go to college. I'm sure they're just as beautiful now as they were then."

"You bullshitter! Shut up, get off the fucking phone, and deliver your ass to Grand Central!"

"Okay...see you soon."

After Clay hung up the phone, he stood there stunned for a couple of seconds. 'Did he say my 'beautiful eyes'?' Clay thought to himself. The Scott he knew would never say anything like that. Sure, they had had teen sex, but had never spoken affectionately to each other...ever. Was Scott gay now? Better yet, why was it so important that Scott wanted to meet him after nearly ten years?

Clay locked the apartment and flagged down the nearest off-duty cab and sped toward 34th to Grand Central Station. The taxi caught a red light at 34th and had to wait for a Greyhound bus to pass. The marquee on the front of the bus said, "San Francisco". Clay remembered how he once wanted to go to California when he was a teen.

On the bus, Dave looked out the window and saw a Yellow Cab and thought how nice it would be to take a taxi and go to Central Park with Clay, but that would never happen. The bus turned north and Clay's cab turned east and passed within ten feet of each other. Two minutes later, Clay paid the driver and rushed into Grand Central to await Scott.

Clay waited over forty-five minutes before he spotted Scott coming through an iron gate. Scott looked the same, only a bit older. He weighed about the same; he still combed his hair the same way. Scott was still Scott...Or was he?

"Hey, big guy!" Clay shouted as he ran to hug Scott.

"My God, Clay, you look wonderful!" Scott exclaimed as he gave Clay another hug.

"So do you!" Clay replied as he tried to pry himself away from Scott to get a better look at him.

"Not yet!" Scott said, holding Clay closer and tighter. "I've been dreaming of this moment for years and I don't want to let go."

"All right, if you're not ashamed to hug a guy in New York, then neither am I," Clay said blatantly.

Scott realized he had said too much too quickly and he suddenly became self-conscious at the picture of two men hugging an extended welcome and he let go of Clay.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Making an ass out of myself..."

"You mean hugging?"

"Well...yes."

"Shit, if you wanna, I'll kiss you right here and now on the lips!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Wanna bet? You oughta remember never to dare me to do anything!"

"How well I DO remember!"

"So? Where do you want to go? Are you hungry? Wanna a bite of late lunch?"

"No, thanks. Is there somewhere we can go to just sit and talk?"

"I know JUST the place," Clay replied. "As a matter of fact, that's where I was headed when you phoned me."

"Then let's go."

Off they went to catch a cab and headed to Central Park at Columbus Circle. Clay tipped the driver and took Scott down the route Dave had taken him...to the exact same park bench where he and Dave had sat. Without giving it a second thought, Clay took Scott's hand and held it.

"Now, big guy, fill me in. My mom says you're a big band director at some New England college."

"Let me just look at you first, Clay. I still can't believe I'm sitting here, gazing into your eyes and knowing it's really YOU, not a fantasy."

"You wanna feel me to make sure? You used to feel me in the nicest places! I hope you didn't forget!"

"No, that part of you, like your eyes, I've never forgotten."

"What's all this shit about my eyes? You're the third person who's commented about them."

"You should see them as other people do. They're beautiful, Clay, almost too pretty for a man."

"Jesus, I'll get me some colored lenses or wear dark glasses. Now where is this college?"

"I have lots to tell you. So much has happened, especially in the last two weeks. I...I needed someone to talk with. That's why I went home to Florida to see my mother...but...but I was too chicken shit. I couldn't open up to her...and then, as luck would have it, I ran into your mom at Publix and she told me about your living in New York...and that's when I knew I HAD to find you. You're the only person in the world I could think of that would understand..."

"Damn, Scott! What the fuck's happened? You sound like some fortune teller just gave you some bad news."

"If it had only been a fortune teller, I might feel better."

"Well, for God's sake, don't keep me in suspense, just TELL ME!"

"I don't know where to begin."

"Anywhere and we'll piece it together."

Scott sighed and his tear ducts suddenly filled up.

"Well...up until two weeks ago, I had the number one collegiate marching band in New England. I...I had a wife...two kids...both boys."

"What do you mean 'had'?"

"All right...you see, there was this student...in my band...a young man. He played clarinet...and...and he...he reminded me of you the first time I ever saw him."

"So...?"

"Well, I don't know whether I was trying to go back and recapture what you and I once had...but this young man and I became very close... TOO close."

"You...had sex with him?"

"Yes."

"And...?"

"We...we kept our affair a secret. The last thing in the world I wanted was for Patti, my wife, to find out about us."

"Uh oh..."

"Wait! It gets worse!"

"How much worse?"

"Well, the student, my young friend, was also dating a girl for cover."

"That's normal, I suppose."

"And he was sleeping around with a bunch of other guys his age."

"That's normal too."

"Then the scandal broke loose..."

"What fucking scandal?"

"I was one of his ten victims to whom he gave HIV..."

"WHAT?"

"I've got it, Clay...one hundred percent positive."

"Jesus Christ!"

"I had to tell Patti so that she could get tested. That's when she took the boys and left me."

"God, I'm sorry, Scott."

"Then the faculty administrator found out when my young friend turned in my name at the Boston CDC and I was suspended, not for having the virus but for having had sex with one of my students. So I lost my job, my children, and my wife...plus maybe my life, all in one week. I HAD to tell someone. I need someone to tell me what to do. You're the only person in my life I wanted to tell and it must have been fate, karma, or Almighty God that made me run into your mother the other day."

"What do you want to do, Scott?"

"I was hoping all the way to New York that I could stay with you until I decide what I want to do...whether I want to start on the 'cocktail' or ease on out quietly and disappear..."

"Of course you can stay with me, Scott, I have plenty of room."

"You wanna know my biggest regret in life?"

"What, big guy?"

"The first year I went away to college after I left you...I used to lie in bed, thinking about our musical afternoons with your dad... and how we used to sneak into your room and jerk each other off or trade BJ's. Three months later, it occurred to me that I loved you and never told you."

"Scott, we were both to young to talk about love."

"No, Clay, I knew it then...and I know it now. In my heart, I've always loved you."

"Did you bring your luggage from the plane?" Clay asked, trying to quickly change the subject, at least momentarily.

"Yeah, I checked it at Grand Central."

"Let's go get your bags and get you settled at my place in the Village. We can talk about this later...and come to some kind of solution."

"Before we go, Clay, can I ask one question?"

"Sure, buddy."

"Did you ever love me a little?"

"...Yeah, I guess I did, Scott. My dad used to tell me that one never forgets his first love...and I guess you were my first. Come on, let's go."

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(To be continued in "Lush Life" chapter eight)