The following narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.
This is a work of fiction. No similarity between the characters here and any real person is intended or should be inferred. Lake Polk is a fictional town, though I fear it is like many real communities.
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.
This next item is a bit late because I've been away for a couple of weeks. For fans of Evan Bradley and "Ambush," the good news is that Evan has begun posting his new series, "The Crew," in the Adult Friends section. Welcome back, maestro!
As "Out of the Night" comes to an end, I want to thank Tommy once more for patiently editing all these chapters, as well as for helpful suggestions throughout. Patrick has also read each chapter and, one way or another, helped make it better. As always, my thanks go to Evan, Ash, and Mickey for their encouragement and support.
Timmead88@Yahoo.com Chapter 11
MARK:
When I got off the phone with Pops, I called Ced. I mean, he's still my best friend. Who else would I call? I explained what was happening, and he said right off that he wouldn't miss coming. Then he said to hold the line. I could hear him talking to Tim, but he must have had his hand over the phone.
"Mark, this is Tim. I want to come too."
"Hey, Tim, that's great. Pops will be so glad to see you!"
"Now listen, Mark. I don't know how many guys you're going to be able to round up for this. I'll bet both Chaz and Trey will come along. May I invite Max and David? And how about Steve Metz?"
"Tim, I'm going to call Chaz and Trey next. Would you call Father Max? And I'll call Steve. But please, help me do this quickly, so we can see about reservations."
"You got it, Mark. Oh, and Mark, I would like to help with the cost of all this if any of the guys can't afford the plane fare right now."
"Not to worry, Tim. Pops says he'll pick up the tab this time."
"Oh, there's no reason why he should do that."
"Tim, you can argue about that with my dad if you must, but right now, we have to get cracking. OK?"
"Yeah, Mark. Ced and I will get busy and get back to you. Bye for now."
"Bye, Tim. Thanks."
When I called, Trey answered. I explained for a second time what had happened and what was up.
"Markie, you KNOW we'll come. Just a minute."
"OK."
As before, he was back online in a flash. "Mark, count us both in. What can we do to help? Can I help with the tickets?"
"I knew I could count on my brothers. You know Ced and Tim are both coming. Do you think Steve Metz would be willing to join us? Tim's asking Father Max if he and David want to come."
"Mark, I'll call Steve. I'll bet he'd like to come. And I've just had another idea. How about Geoff Benton and Philip Halifax? I think they are a couple now. Geoff may not be able to get away, but this sounds like something Philip wouldn't want to miss."
"Well, there's safety in numbers. By all means, bro, ask `em all. But ya gotta do it quickly, so I can start working on plane reservations."
"I'll call you back in less than an hour, OK?"
"Right, Tiger. Thanks, man."
"You got it, Markie!"
Do I have great friends or what? Within an hour, I had learned that Geoff had a gig and couldn't come. But Phil Halifax, Steve Metz, Father Max Hewitt, and all of "the Brotherhood" were coming. So all I had to do was finagle reservations for us. Everyone had been told about Pops' offer of the extra day at Disney, and they all said they thought they could avoid their campus responsibilities for that extra day.
We had a real stroke of luck with the tickets. Apparently we hit the lull between Thanksgiving and Christmas and were able to get eight return tickets on a Continental direct flight from Cleveland to Waltersburg and back.
I called Ced and Trey (got Chaz instead) and gave them the flight information. He said they'd pass the word on to the others. Tim told me Father Max said David was sorry he couldn't come, but he had to be in Chicago on business those days and couldn't possibly get away.
I sent Pops an email giving him the details. We were to arrive in Waltersburg at 1:33 on Monday. I made arrangements for two Sebring convertibles to be there for us when we arrived. I figured we might as well enjoy some sun while we were there, and each car would handle four of us.
STAN:
I don't know quite where the weekend went. Doug and I were actually able to get some placards printed that said things like, "GOD LOVES ALL HIS CHILDREN, WHY DOES BISHOP WENN HATE GAYS?" We went to Home Depot and bought sticks to attach the signs to.
Saturday evening we went to Fridays for dinner. We asked to be seated at one of Adam's tables. When he had brought us our wine, he said, "It's good you two finally got together. Even on campus we've heard about what's been going on with you, though, and I want to say it sucks!"
Doug grinned at him. Those two seemed connected from the first time I saw them together. I knew there was nothing physical between them, but I could tell they both just liked each other. And, of course, each knew the other was gay without a word ever having been said. "Adam, you may not have heard the latest."
He proceeded to tell Adam about his having lost his lay minister's license and then told him about the protest that was planned for Tuesday.
Adam's eyes lighted up. "Tell me where this cathedral is and when you want me. I'll be there. That's so cool. I've never been in a demonstration before."
"Don't you have classes Tuesday?" I asked.
He flashed me the grin and said, "Yeah, but I have no cuts yet this semester. It won't matter if I'm not there Tuesday."
"Adam," Doug said, grabbing Adam's left hand with his right, "you don't have to do this. But if you want to join us, we'd be happy to have you there."
"Count on it!" Then he left to go put in the order for our dinners.
Doug looked at me, his eyes shining (I don't know whether from tears or excitement), and said, "Babe, this is incredible. I still can't believe that Mark found seven others to come all the way down from Ohio. And now Adam is going to be there with us, too!"
"Yeah," I said, "it sort of restores your faith, doesn't it, Dougie?"
Sunday morning Doug and I drove to Parkerville to the biggest Episcopal Church in that city. It was large and impersonal. The interior of St. Stephen's was dark and cool. The choir sang beautifully. The homily was brief. The Eucharist was pretty much the same as it is in every Episcopal Church. We shook hands with the priest as we left. We had done our religious duty, but it didn't feel right. It was just too impersonal.
DOUG:
I was nervous all weekend, excited, I suppose, about what was coming up. I was really happy at the prospect of meeting Mark and his "Brotherhood." Stan had told me so much about Cedric, Trey, Chaz, and Tim. I'd talked with Mark on the phone, and I sensed that he was a really fine young man, but it would be good to get a look at -- my stepson?
Stan and I did various things over the weekend, one of which was to talk about what we were going to do with our lives now that he had resigned as city manager. We were beginning to work out a plan.
Monday the phone rang at 1:45. It was Mark. They had deplaned and claimed their luggage, so they were ready to pick up their cars and come to Lake Polk.
About an hour later, they pulled into my driveway. We knew they had arrived because we could hear the radios blasting. We learned later that they had tuned both radios to the same station. I was afraid they might have gotten arrested for the noise, but those laws aren't very strictly enforced in these parts.
Stan and I held hands as we went outside to greet them. Picture the sight: Two convertibles, tops down, with four gorgeous young guys in each one. It was bout 72 degrees. The natives were saying how nice it was to have some cool weather, finally. But the guys, fresh from December in Ohio, had done the tourist thing and pulled off their shirts. It was enough to take your breath away. In fact, I think I gasped. Stan squeezed my hand, knowing very well how I was reacting.
I recognized the driver of the first car as Mark, for I had seen many pictures of him at Stan's place. Next to him was a thin, dark guy I didn't know. In the back seat were another thin dark guy with a mustache and goatee and a short guy with a great chest, lots of muscles, and sort of chestnut brown hair.
In the second car were three hunks and a guy who had to be Tim Mead. The driver of the second car had tawny blond hair. Next to him was a very tall fellow with hair about like mine and these very pale blue eyes. That had to be Trey and Chaz. In the back were a really handsome black guy, beautifully put together like the two studs in the front, and then this short, pale one with dark red hair. That had to be Cedric and Tim. I noticed that, though Tim was slight of build, he obviously worked out enough to have well defined abs and decent muscles in his arms and shoulders. He was adorable. I decided I'd have to remember when I talked with him that he was a professional colleague and try to forget how cute he was.
They were all obviously in high spirits, talking and laughing as they piled out of the two cars.
It's hard to remember exactly what happened next. Mark and his "brothers" all mobbed Stan, hugging, slapping backs, laughing. Even Tim came up and hugged Stan. The two thin, dark guys and the stocky one with the chestnut hair were sort of holding back, smiling, waiting to be introduced. I found out that one of the two dark guys I couldn't identify was Steve Metz, who had recently become a sort of honorary member of the Brotherhood. He was the guy who had been attacked the previous summer in the parking lot of his apartment house. The other dark guy, the one with the `stache and beard, was introduced as Philip Halifax, a friend of Trey's who was the president of the campus Gay/Straight Alliance. The short guy was Max Hewitt, Tim's best friend from college and the curate at the church Mark attended. Eventually we all got sorted out, introductions were performed along with more hugs, and we went inside.
I thought my house was roomy, but when eight young men were added to Stan and me, there were hunks everywhere. I didn't know where to look. And, while everyone was talking at once, I caught Stan's eye. He grinned back. He knew exactly what I was thinking because he wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
We had lots of beer on hand, plus wine. Tim chose wine, which shouldn't have surprised me, I suppose, but so did Trey, Cedric, and Max. There were people in the living room, the family room, and the screen room. It was a fluid group. Stan moved about, visiting with Mark and his friends. I replenished drinks and chatted as I could. I don't know how to describe the feeling. Here were a house full of beautiful men, two of whom were straight, and the rest gay. There was so much obvious good feeling flowing it was palpable. I made a point of sitting and chatting with Philip Halifax for a while. He was a very intense, dynamic young man, dedicated to advancing the cause of acceptance for GLBT people on his campus, and excited about being here to take part in the next day's protest.
Steve Metz was a charming kid. I thanked him for coming and asked why he had decided to do it. He told me that he considered Tim, Ced, Trey, and Chaz his best friends. He also told me that he had stayed with Max while he was recovering from his cracked ribs, and that he considered Max a good friend. When those guys all decided to come, he knew he needed to be here, too. He also said that he was coming to know Mark and Lori because he and his new girlfriend Becca had been double dating with them. And that it had been Lori who first set all that up. As I chatted with him, it became obvious that he was bright, had a wonderful sense of humor, and didn't take any guff from anyone.
When the house began to darken, it occurred to me that these guys must be hungry. I realized to my chagrin that they probably hadn't had a decent lunch on the plane. I picked up the phone and ordered in ten large pizzas with various toppings. Then I went into the kitchen and began making a huge bowl of salad. Two hours later the salad was gone, there was hardly any of the pizza left, and guys were sprawled all over the place.
The decibel level had diminished somewhat as the group ate and mellowed out, but the love and good feelings flowing around the room were still clearly present. I made a point of chatting with each of the guys during the course of the evening and began to marvel that such a group of remarkable people had come together, especially since each one was so damned sexy in his own way.
Tim intrigued me. He was, after all, despite his youth, a colleague, even to the point of having a similar specialty -- American fiction of the early 20th century. At first he seemed deferential, probably, I suspected, because I'm old enough to be his father, but the more he talked, the more respect I developed for him. I hoped he and I would get a chance to have a longer, more private talk while they were here.
Stan had described most of these men to me. He didn't know Steve or Philip or Max, but he knew the others well. Nevertheless, it was fascinating for me to talk with each of them, making my own assessment of them. Each of them had his own power, and they all obviously loved one another. Remarkable.
It had been decided that Mark and Steve would share Stan's guest room, which had twin beds. The others were staying at the Hampton.
When the party wound down, we reminded the guys to put the tops up on their convertibles and arranged for everyone to meet back here at 8:30 the next morning so we could caravan to the Cathedral in Waltersburg.
MARK:
It was great, of course, to see Pops. And to meet Doug. At first I didn't see what made Pops fall for him so quickly, but as I watched him, and you better believe I was watching him, I began to see the attraction. He had a sexy smile. As Pops said, he had a wonderful voice. And there was a sense that he was concerned about you when he looked at your or talked with you. When you had his attention, it was all about YOU. Not only that, but he and Pops were obviously so much in love. They were like Ced and Tim. Little touches here and there, quick looks, smiles. They moved around, seeing to our needs, chatting with us as a team, each complementing the other. I was sure before that evening was over that my dad had found the guy he'd been looking for, and it was equally obvious that Doug was totally in love with Pops.
When it came time for the guys to go to the Hampton, Tim drove one car, and Max drove the other. They were the only ones who hadn't had too much to drink. I was glad I was staying at Pops' place and could ride there with him. We had to take Doug's big Buick to get there, though, because we had Steve with us, and the T-Bird could only seat two.
The next morning, the guys who stayed at the Hampton were able to have their breakfast there, and we three went to Doug's for breakfast.
At about 8:15, everyone was back at Doug's, and we set out for the Cathedral. All the signs were in the trunk of the Buick.
DOUG:
The morning of my protest, I should say OUR protest in view of all the people who showed up to help, arrived. It was a coolish morning for Florida, but we were promised another sunny day with a high in the upper 60's. We took the Buick and one of the Sebrings to Waltersburg.
Just after we arrived, a police cruiser pulled up. The officers wanted to see our permit, which Stan showed them. They warned us not to block either pedestrian or vehicular traffic, not to litter. We were visited by one cruiser or another about every hour all day long, thought they didn't hassle us. But then, we did as we were instructed and never caused any disturbance.
We hadn't been there long when our ranks were swelled by the arrival of, Adam, Aaron, and Blair. I was amazed. They reminded me that, because Lloyd was a very small college, they all knew each other. Aaron had sought out Blair, and then they had bumped into Adam. They got to talking over the weekend about what had happened to Stan and me. Blair told the other two about the protest, and they all decided to come. I was moved to tears, of course, and told them so. They all gave me a hug, including Blair, believe it or not. And then they took their turns at handing out flyers and carrying signs. I was worried about Aaron because he was the only one of the whole group who really looked gay. I thought he might be subject to more verbal abuse than the rest of us. He seemed OK though. Several times I saw him smiling broadly, in animated conversation with people to whom he was handing out the flyers.
Another arrival surprised Stan and me. Not long after the three guys from Lloyd U. arrived, we saw Reggie Price, his son Chad, and his mother, "Mama," walking toward us. I rushed over to them. Reggie hugged me. Chad shook hands, looking embarrassed. And Mama gave both of us big hugs. "What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Well, young man," Mama said, "you didn't tell us what you were up to. We had to learn it from Aaron over there. But when he told us what you had planned, we just had to come and help."
I gulped. "You know Aaron?"
Mama, who was wearing a flowered print dress and a hat, as if she were going to church, laughed and said, "I've know that chile since he was in diapers. His mother goes to our church, and I've watched him grow up. Li'l Aaron was the first gay chile I ever knew. And he's so sweet natured you just have to love him!"
"Well, Mama," I said, "you are the only woman here. I am worried that things might become unpleasant for you. Are you sure you want to stay?"
She laughed. "Douglas, I was in Birmingham. Nothing's gonna happen here that I can't handle!"
I hugged her again. Stan, who had been standing next to me and smiling broadly the whole time, gave Chad a sign to carry and handed a stack of leaflets to both Reggie and Mama.
"I just want to put in my two cents' worth," he said. "You are a very special family, and Doug and I are touched more than we can say that you are here."
Always eloquent, I said "Yeah."
There was a lot of pedestrian traffic into and out of and up and down the sidewalk in front of the Cathedral. Some people simply refused the flyers we tried to give them. Some stopped to ask what was going on. Others acted as if we had the plague. When we compared notes later, just about everyone had been called a pervert or an abomination in the sight of God or something equally bad at least once. Blair asked me at one point what anathema meant. When I told him, he chuckled. "I wonder what my priest would say if he knew that?" I wondered what his priest would say if he knew Blair was here, but I didn't say so. I supposed the poor kid would have to confess that eventually.
Late in the morning, the media began to show up. There was a reporter and a photographer with the Waltersburg Sentinel. They interviewed and took pictures of me. Then they talked with some of the others and took a few more pictures. Later on, there were crews from three of the local television stations.
Although there were all sorts of clerics, as well as lay persons, going in and out of the Cathedral, we never saw my favorite canon or Bishop Wenn, but then I hadn't expected to.
I noticed that several of the Ohio guys were in earnest conversation with passers-by from time to time.
During the middle of the day, I went among the others and sent them off a few at a time to get some lunch, but Stan and I stayed there. When Trey, Chaz, and Mark came back from their lunch, they brought us each a burger and a soda. We were careful to find a proper receptacle in which to put our paper trash.
Finally, at 5:00 we packed it in. I was tremendously grateful to everyone for being there, but I must admit I was a little disappointed. There was no confrontation. If we made any impression on the bishop or the powers that be in the diocese, I couldn't see it.
We stopped at an IHOP on the way back to Lake Polk and fed the whole crew, including Adam, Aaron, and Blair. The Prices begged off, saying that Beth was expecting them for supper and she was worried about them, so they needed to get home.
I was exhausted. I think even Stan was a little tired. But the boys seemed exhilarated. The Ohio crowd were in deep conversation with the local guys. I noticed Ced and Tim in intense conversation with Aaron at one point, and Father Max seemed to be having a good talk with Blair. Adam, Trey, and Chaz were chuckling about something and looking over at Stan and me, and I suspected Adam was telling them about the evening when Stan and I had dinner together and Adam helped us realize that we were both gay.
We all arrived back at my place about 8:00. We asked the three local guys to join us, but they said they had classes to prepare for the next day and needed to get back to campus. I thanked all three of them profusely, and then there was a huge round of hugs. Everybody in the Ohio group wanted to hug them, pound them on the back, high five with them, or something. At one point I saw Mark and Blair exchanging email addresses.
Stan and I broke out the beer and wine, and the rest of the evening was spent in post mortems, comparing notes, enjoying just being together.
I managed to get with Tim to ask him how much he had been looking forward to going to Disney. He said he had been there often enough and would go along, but it was no big deal for him. Then I invited him to stay behind and go to the Gardens so he and I could chat. He said that sounded good, but he'd need to check with Cedric. While he was doing that, Stan came over and said that Max wasn't particularly eager to go to Disney either, so we invited him to go to the Gardens with us, too.
That meant that the next morning, Mark, Philip, Steve, Chaz, Trey, and Cedric were going to Disney World. Trey insisted that this was his party since Stan had paid for the plane fare and the car rentals. Stan said that was OK and thanked Trey.
I offered the guys the Buick so the six of them could all go in one car. Though they took pains to thank me, I think they were horrified at the thought. They insisted that they had the two convertibles, so they'd take both of them.
I always thought college students slept late every chance they got. I certainly did when I was an undergraduate. These guys, however, were up, had their breakfast and were gone by 8:00.
Tim, Stan, Max, and I had a leisurely breakfast of juice, scrambled eggs, sausage, pecan rolls, and coffee.
We had watched the local news at 11:00 the previous evening, using two different television sets. There was hardly any coverage of our protest. One station had a 30-second report with a brief video clip. The others had apparently decided what we did wasn't newsworthy. Or else, as Stan suggested, the Diocese had managed to quash the story. . . .
The Sentinel that morning had a small article with no picture buried in the third page of the local news section.
Well, so much for embarrassing the bishop, I thought.
[This seems as good a place as any to insert the information that later there were articles in newspapers in Tampa, Jacksonville, and Miami, none of which is in the Diocese of Middle Florida. Moreover, the national Episcopal newspaper had a full article with pictures about Doug's protest. There were also articles in the newsletters of Integrity and Oasis. More important, there was an article in The Advocate. So, though Bishop Wenn had apparently managed to crush local coverage, word did get out. Moreover, there were some editorials that were highly critical of Bishop Wenn. There were letters, too, in the op ed section of several of Florida's major newspapers critical of the Bishop. Of course, there were the usual replies from the bigots as well.]
STAN:
After the others left, Tim and Doug huddled up over more coffee to talk shop. At first I heard them talking about how Dos Passos and Faulkner had been influenced by James Joyce. Later, I could hear names like Willa Cather, Gertrude Stein, Hemingway, e. e. cummings, and others being bandied about enthusiastically. Obviously those two, despite the age difference, had a lot in common, and they seemed to be happy to have found someone with similar interests and enthusiasms.
Which left Max and me. I wanted to get to know Max better, but I knew I had to be careful not to turn him inside out the way I had done Tim when he first came into Cedric's life. So, I just asked him to tell me about how he came to know Tim.
He didn't seem to mind. He told me they had been close friends at Kenyon. We were able to talk about Kenyon for a while, since I'm on the Board there. He said, rather ruefully, that neither had known the other was gay at that time, and they had each been super careful not to do anything to ruin the friendship. Then he smiled, sighed, and simply said, "the saddest words . . . . "
I smiled and chimed in, "what might have been."
He nodded. "Yeah, Stan. Tim and I could have been good together, but he's got Cedric, and he's completely happy. Besides," he said, brightening, "I have found a great guy myself. Chaz introduced us. His name is David."
"You and David? Wow! Max, that's great."
"But how did you know about David?"
"Easy, father. Chaz let Mark read his journal, and Mark just had to tell his Pops about the fabulous David."
I think Max blushed. He sort of ducked his chin a little. Then he looked up at me and grinned. "Yeah, David is something else. Being his friend is a real ride." He paused, winked at me, and continued, "So is being his lover."
I laughed so loud Doug and Tim looked over to see what was going on.
"I just told Stan about David and me," Max explained. Tim grinned broadly and gave him a thumbs-up sign. Doug looked puzzled.
"I'll explain to you later, babe," I said. Doug smiled, nodded, and turned back to Tim.
At noon we hopped in the Hearse (Doug's Buick) and made the short drive to the Gardens. We had lunch at their cafeteria, taking our salads and sandwiches outside. This was a special place for Doug and me because it was one of the first places where we had eaten together, back when neither of us knew the other was gay and we were dancing a very careful dance.
It was a beautiful day. There were a few other people eating, but no one was sitting close to us, so we could talk unrestrainedly. Doug began the story of how we had met, how careful we had both been. Soon we were all laughing.
After taking our trays back inside to the designated area, we began walking under the 80-year-old liveoaks along the paths of the famous garden. We'd walk a while and then sit on benches and talk. At one point Tim and Max took turns telling us how jealous Cedric had been of Max when he first showed up. And how bad they had both felt when they realized they had made Ced feel that way.
"Well, he's at Disney and you two are here. What does that tell you?"
They looked at each other and smiled. "Ced's cool with it now. Before he left this morning he kissed me and told me he hoped we four had a good day together." Then he looked at Max and grinned. "Of course, he knows that you two are here to chaperone us."
"Tim!" Max exclaimed. "You're bad, man!"
Doug and I took turns telling Max and Tim about the day we had been sitting on a bench and both got hardons and had to walk back to the car with our hands in our pockets to hide our stiffies. Doug then mentioned the thing about our hands touching when we went to latch the top of the T-Bird.
Tim chuckled. "You two sound like a couple of young lovers. No offense."
"None taken," Doug said. "I think we felt exactly like young lovers. Do you think we are foolish?"
Both of the younger men hastened to assure us they didn't think so.
"Mark knows how happy you are, and he's elated for you. He's gives us an update on you two every time he sees us. He rejoices in your happiness. Pops."
I laughed. "Thanks a lot, whippersnapper."
Doug, Tim, and Max joined in the laughter.
We spent an hour in the local art museum after we left the Gardens. Then we began to think about supper. Max and Tim insisted that this was to be their treat. And they asked us to choose a nice place, saying they'd had enough burgers and sandwiches.
Doug and I conferred and decided, since the Disney contingent would probably not be back until late, to drive into Parkerville to the Terrace Grille, a newly-refurbished upscale restaurant in an old hotel in the downtown section. We asked if the guys had brought long pants, and they said they had, so we all went first to Doug's so he and I could put I khakis, and then to the Hampton so Tim and Max could do the same.
The more I got to know Max, the better I liked him. I knew that Cedric, my "other son," was deeply in love with Tim and vice versa, but I couldn't help thinking that Tim and Max would have made a cute couple. The same height, similar backgrounds. College best friends. Both in professions where they were helping people. I could only hope that David could make Max happy.
Max was, and is, a hunk. Not a lot shorter than I am, he is also built a little like me. He's pretty muscular, solid. Not thick, just solid. Muscular arms and legs. Great pecs and abs. Beautiful hair, and eyes a brown that reminds me of Doug's. More important than his looks though, was the inner man I sensed. Smart. As smart as Tim, but with a less flashy intellect. Warm. Caring. Sweet, perhaps. And a man of total integrity. In a brief moment when he and I had gotten to chat at the Gardens, Tim told me that he and Max had been keeping each other on track for years, that each was the other's conscience. I was moved that they could have such a relationship.
We had good wine, good food, and wonderful conversation with these two young men. It was easy to forget that Doug and I could have been their fathers.
After dinner, we drove back to Lake Polk and waited at Doug's house for the others to get back from Disney. They arrived about 11:00. Doug offered cookies and milk, and that made a big hit. They went through two recipes of toll house cookies and over a gallon of milk as they talked about what all they had done that day.
About midnight, someone mentioned that they had to be at the airport early to catch their flight back to Cleveland, so they all rose to go. Doug and I said good night to the ones who were going back to the Hampton. You never saw so much hugging and backthumping. Then I gave Mark the keys to the Thunderbird so he and Steve could go back to my place. I was going to spend the night with Doug, obviously. We hugged them, too, since the others were going to pick them up on their way to the airport the next morning.
"Mark, send me an email when you get home tomorrow, kiddo!"
"Yeah, Pops." He paused. "You know, this stuff isn't over for you and Doug. I'll be praying for you both. You guys hang in there! And keep us posted about what's going on."
"You know I will, babe!"
Suddenly, they were all gone, and the house seemed VERY empty. Doug handed me a scotch, poured bourbon for himself, and sat next to me on the sofa.
"Well, sweetheart," he said, "it's been an incredible couple of days, hasn't it?"
I could only agree.
In the days after the younger men had all gone back to Ohio, Stan and Doug talked a lot about their future. Stan had a proposal for Doug. He wanted to set up a legal practice in Lake Polk, one that would be primarily for the poorer residents of the area, those who didn't have access to competent legal advice. "If they can pay, fine. If they can't, I'm not going to turn them away," he said. And he wanted Doug to work part time in the office. Doug argued that he didn't have any paralegal training. Stan pointed out that Doug had a PHD and he could train Doug to do what was needed. Stan's concern was that Doug might feel like an employee and he wanted Doug to feel like a partner.
"I know we can work together, Stan. I have no problem at all with that, babe. And I like it that you think you'd only need me, say, half time. That way, I can get to work in earnest on my novel."
They agreed that they'd give it five years. If, after that time, they weren't happy with their lives in Lake Polk they'd pull up stakes and go somewhere else, San Francisco or New York, or even Key West, perhaps.
Doug sold his house in Colony Heights. They bought a big, old two-story, five-bedroom house on Lake Shore Boulevard facing the lake and launched into the task of renovating and upgrading it. They wanted to have a place where all the guys could come and stay when they were in Florida, and the house became their principal hobby for two years.
With Stan's encouragement, Doug got rid of "The Hearse" and bought a bright red ( to match the T-Bird) Dodge Dakota pickup truck with a bed cover, chrome wheels, chrome inserts for the grille, and tan leather seats. They decided that as long as they were working on their house, they'd need a truck to bring home things like drywall from Home Depot. Then, when the house was completely renovated, they'd get rid of the truck and buy something else. Doug, who'd been doing his homework, was thinking longingly of an MG from the early 1950's, but he never told Stan about it.
Doug asked to be excused from his volunteer work at the Gardens, and Bruce regretfully agreed.
They began to drive into Cypress Haven to go to church. Doug didn't get his LEM license back, but he always thought that when Bishop Wenn did in fact retire, he might, if the priest at their new church, Father Martin, was agreeable, apply for reinstatement.
One night shortly after they had moved into their new house, Doug and Stanley, having worked all day stripping wallpaper in a couple of the guest rooms, took a long, slow, loving shower together. Then they dried off and fell naked into bed. Though they were tired, nature took its course, and soon they were in the throes of a vigorous fuck session.
Later, both spent, they were lying on their backs with their hands clasped behind their heads
Stan began to recite:
"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul."
Doug chuckled as he turned to run his fingers through his partner's chest hair. "Stanley, what on earth made you think of that corny old chestnut?"
"In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbow'd."
"Well, Dougie, maybe it's melodramatic, but it seems kind of appropriate doesn't it?"
"Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years,
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid."
"You idiot. I suppose it does, in its Victorian way."
Doug joined Stan in reciting the last stanza:
"It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul."
Giggling like boys, they turned and put their arms around each other.
THE END
[In case you were never required to memorize it, the poem above is "Invictus," by 19th-century British poet, William Ernest Henley.
Although this chapter is the end of "Out of the Night," at least for now, a chapter 12 will be posted soon as a sort of addendum. Entitled "Rick's Story," it will allow the guy who brought Doug's teaching career to an end to say a few words.
Thanks to all of you who have written about OOTN. I've really appreciated your letters and support.
Another chapter of "Dr. Tim and the Boys" will be posted in about a week. T.M.]