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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"THE PASSION OF MATTHEW"
Copyright Ritchris 2005
A story by
Ritch Christopher
literary enhancement by
Les Martin
Chapter Three
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"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! HHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT! PUT IT PUT! OH JESUS GOD! I'M ON FIRE! PLEASE PUT IT OUT! OHHHHHHHHHH! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! I'M ON FIRE! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! PLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZEEEE! SOMEBODY! ANYBODY!" Matt screamed.
"MATT! MATT! MATT!" Mike yelled, trying to top Matt's outcries.
Matt was flailing his arms, his legs bucking up and down as if he was having convulsions or a seizure. Mike pressed down on Matt's shoulders to restrain him.
"TRY AND HOLD DOWN HIS KNEES, HANK!" Mike shouted.
Hank moved around to the opposite side of Matt's bed and placed one hand firmly on Matt's knee and the other hand on the stump where his other knee used to be. Matt made eye contact with Mike and began to settle down, although he was still panting short breaths, quite heavily.
"MATT! You're all right, son! It's me, Matt, it's Mike! Settle down! You were having a bad dream! Everything is all right! You're here with me!"
Through his fright, Matt started to become oriented with his surroundings. He recognized his uncle and broke into tears. His breathing was beginning to relax, but each exhale was covered by an audible, "Hah...hah...huh...huh..." Then as his eyes focused on Hank who was still holding onto Matt's legs, Matt shouted. "GET THAT FAGGOT AWAY FROM ME! GET HIM OUT OF THE ROOM, UNCLE MIKE."
"MATT, MATT, Matt, Hank is not a faggot. He's doing you no harm!"
"THAT FUCKER TRIED TO KISS ME IN THE WOODS! GET OUT, FAGGOT!" Matt continued to shout.
"Matt, calm down! Get a hold on yourself. Hank did NOT try to kiss you. He was trying to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on you. Hank saved your life, Matt!"
"What?"
"You heard me. Remember when you raced him and got short of breath and collapsed?"
"Huh?"
"You passed out from lack of air. Hank was trying to help you! Do you remember any of that?"
"What?....vaguely." Matt began to breathe more normally.
"You ought to apologize to Hank and thank him. Without him, you wouldn't be alive!"
"Why the fuck didn't he just let me die?"
"Hank didn't want you to die. I don't either! EVER!"
"Matt, I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression. I didn't know what else to do!" Hank spoke up.
"ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT! So you weren't trying to kiss me! What else was I to think?"
"Had I known you were awake, I would have told you what I was attempting. Everything happened so fast. I just started puffing air down your windpipe. I didn't have time to tell you."
"OK. So you want me to apologize? Then...I'm sorry."
"It's OK. I'd expect you to do the same for me if the situation was reversed. If I had passed out, I don't think you would have stood there and watch me die."
"No, I guess I wouldn't."
"You realize now what I was doing?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry. CPR was part of our training in the Marines. I...I should've known. I...I saw lots of guys performing mouth-to-mouth in Iraq, although I never had to do it, myself."
"Are you feeling better?" Mike asked, his concern quite obvious.
"I guess. I keep having that same dream over and over. I can see the kid and hear the explosion and feel the pain of the fire all over my body."
"That nightmare is something you'll never get over." Mike said.
"I know that, God damn it! Sometimes when I'm having that dream...when I wake up, I'm hoping it WAS a nightmare and nothing more. Then I feel my skin and the scars all over my body and I know it wasn't a dream. I'm reliving what actually happened to me."
Matt's focus had been on his uncle and Hank. He was unaware that Art, Jim, John, and Bob were standing in the doorway of his bedroom, watching and feeling totally helpless.
"Are you all right now? Are you hungry at all? You slept right though supper."
"Yeah, I'm OK, now...and no, I'm not hungry."
"Hank cooked a spaghetti supper for me and the guys. There's still plenty in the refrigerator if you'd like some."
"No, that's all right. You can leave now," Matt said to Mike.
"Mike, why don't you go back and play cards and I'll stay with Matt a little while," Hank said. "That is...if it's all right with you, Matt, now that you know I didn't try to molest you this afternoon."
"Huh?...Oh, yeah, sure."
"Thanks, Hank," Mike said. "You two just talk and if you need me, let me know."
"Fine." Hank replied.
Mike and his guys went back to the table, each of them trembling slightly. They had seen one of Matt's worst episodes and it left them a bit shaken. Art went to the cupboard and got a bottle of Jim Beam with five glasses. He thought it would help to settle their nerves before continuing the poker game.
Meanwhile in Matt's bedroom, Hank had pulled a chair close to Matt's bed to be near him.
"Matt, would you like some water or a pain pill?"
"No, I'm not hurting. I was hurting in my sleep, but the doctors say my pain is psychosomatic, not real, since the burns damaged most of the nerve endings in my body. Hell, you could drive a nail into most parts of my body and I wouldn't feel it."
"I'm just glad you're not in physical pain. I'm sure the nightmares must be horrible."
"I suppose I scared the shit out of you with my yelling."
"That's putting it mildly! I feel better now, knowing you're all right."
"Ha! That's a joke, Hank. I'll NEVER be all right."
"Matt, you know what I meant."
"Yeah, and you know what 'I' meant."
"Do you need to go to the bathroom? You've been lying in bed for over seven hours."
"I suppose, but I don't need any help from you."
"Matt, will you please get over the idea that I'm a faggot trying to put the make on you?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that I never had a man try to kiss me before and I'm having a hard time trusting you.
"Matt, I didn't kiss you."
"How was I to know?"
"Because if I had kissed you, I'd probably have put my tongue in your mouth."
Matt smiled. "I guess no one gives 'French' mouth-to-mouth..."
"No, that's something they didn't teach me at the Red Cross. I was just merely offering to steady you while you walked to the bathroom."
"I DO need to go. Which one of the doctors came to see me this time?"
"Dr. Carter."
"Oh, the intern. Uncle Mike usually gets one of the real doctors to examine me when I need it. I suppose he shot me with sleep medication or poked some pain pills down me."
"I'm not sure what he did. I was out in the hall talking to Mike while Dr. Carter was with you."
"If he gave me pain pills, I'll probably be constipated for a week."
"So do you need help going to the bathroom or not?"
"NOT! I can make it. Where's my dummy leg?"
"On the floor beside you."
"Are you brave enough to help me put it on? I mean if my stump'll make you sick, I don't need that."
"If you want me to, I'll help."
"Come on, get it, and I'll show you how to do it."
Hank reached down to get the prosthesis and Matt threw back the covers.
"Oh, shit!" Matt exclaimed. "Someone took all my clothes off me. DID YOU?"
"NO! It must have been the doctor."
Hank glanced at Matt's genitals and midsection. It was just as Matt described. This section of Matt's body was smooth skin with no sign of burns or scars. If Matt's pubic hair had been singed off during his accident, it had grown back nicely. Hank was also surprised to see how well endowed Matt was in the genital sense. They were much bigger and more attractive than Lance's. Hank couldn't help but stare, getting a good look.
"Does this shock you?" Matt said.
"No."
"Strange how this part of my body was spared for nothing. I'll never have sex with a woman again. That's for damned sure."
"Maybe not. Mike told me that the Marines would pay for reconstructive surgery."
"Hank, it would take a dozen dead guys to get enough good skin to replace my burned skin...not to mention, maybe a hundred operations to graft the skin."
"Did you ever think it might be worth it?"
"I'd rather die first."
"LOOK! As long as I'm here, I don't want you to say that to me again. You have lots of things to live for."
"Name two..."
"Well, your brain works for one."
"And number two?"
"You've got a nice looking cock and balls...the kind women would love to make love to."
"You find my cock and balls attractive?"
"I didn't say that. I was talking about some women...a potential girlfriend or bed partner."
"Still you said it! It made me think for a moment that you MIGHT be a faggot."
"You really have a hang up with faggots, don't you?"
"I just don't want to be around one."
"What if I were one?"
"I'd act the same way and tell you to get the hell away from me."
"Were you ever approached by a faggot in the Marine Corps?"
"I...I don't want to talk about it."
"All right, I won't pry. Maybe you'll tell me one day."
"You're gonna be here three months, I won't be ready to tell you in three months, so you might as well forget about it. Now let's strap on that leg so I can go piss."
Matt carefully showed Hank the procedure step-by-step to make sure the prosthesis was placed in the correct angle and that it wasn't attached too tightly. Hank showed no sign of disgust and learned quickly. Hank handed Matt his bathrobe to put on for modesty's sake after Matt stood up. Matt took two steps and almost toppled over. Hank caught him.
"Must be that goddamned medication Dr. Carter gave me. I'm kinda dizzy."
"Put your arm around my neck and I'll walk you to the bathroom."
"You're bound and determined to make physical contact with me, aren't you?"
"Damn it, Matt! I'm only trying to help you and NOTHING ELSE? Can you get that faggot business out off your mind?"
"I'm sorry. I meant that as a joke."
"You didn't see me laughing, did you?"
"No, but please let's hurry before I piss on the floor!"
Matt put his arm around Hank's neck and shoulders as Hank steadied him by putting his arm around the back of Matt's waist and the two hobbled to the bathroom at the end of the hall, the opposite direction from the living room where Mike and the guys were playing cards.
Hank helped Matt to sit on the commode then he exited the bathroom to let Matt have his privacy. Without being asked, while he waited, Hank returned to Matt's bedroom and made the bed, putting on fresh clean sheets and pillowcases. He fluffed the pillows before going back to the bathroom. Hank tapped lightly on the door.
"Are you all right, Matt?"
"Yeah, I'm just about finished, but don't come in. I can clean myself."
"I know you can, I'm aware that you're not helpless. I had no intention of invading your privacy."
Hank waited a few more minutes before Matt said he was ready to go back to bed. Hank came in and helped Matt off the toilet. They assumed the same walking position as they had used going in. Hank helped him back to the bed and Matt noticed his bed had been made.
"Did you do this or did some fairy fly in through the window and make my bed?"
"I did it. I hope you don't mind. It's just that you slept so long and your linens were wet with your perspiration. I thought you'd feel better getting a fresh start."
"I guess you expect me to thank you."
"No, it gave me something to do while you were in the john."
"Well, thanks, anyway."
"You're welcome. Now can I get you something to eat? You haven't eaten a bite since breakfast."
"What do you think you are, my mother?"
"No, Matt, I just want to be your friend. I thought you and I had gotten off to a good start when we went flower picking this morning."
"That all changed when I thought you were trying to kiss me."
"But you know better now, don't you?"
"Maybe."
"So are you hungry?"
"Some..."
"I made spaghetti with meat sauce for supper. There's still plenty left in the refrigerator if you'd like me to heat up a plate for you."
"So you cook too? Do you sew as well?"
"I can mend a shirt, sew on buttons, and darn my socks when necessary."
"You're a regular little house maid, aren't you?"
"No, but at my house, around my dad, I had to do lots of chores...especially since I had no mom to help me. I guess I'm like you in that respect. I like to do things for myself."
"OK...how about half a plate of spaghetti?"
"Want some garlic bread, too?"
"Uh...I suppose."
"I'll go get it. Would you like me to turn on your TV?"
"No, thanks, I have my remote control."
"Would it be all right if I sat with you while you ate...just for company?"
"I guess."
"Good. I'll be right back with your dinner."
Hank hurried into the kitchen and warmed a plate of food for Matt and returned ten minutes later. Hank noticed a bed tray in the corner and placed Matt's meal on it and carried it back to the bed.
"Here you are..." Hank said, placing the tray over Matt's lap who was sitting up in the bed.
"Smells good."
"Thanks, I hope you like the taste."
Matt began eating slowly and each bite became faster. He was enjoying Hank's cooking.
"This is pretty good."
"I'm glad you like it."
Matt was almost finished with the spaghetti and Hank ran back to the kitchen to get Matt's dessert, ice cream and canned peaches. Matt ate the dessert heartily and gave Hank a pleasant smile.
"Thanks. That was delicious."
"Let me take your dirty dishes to the kitchen. If you like, I can come back and sit with you longer and we can chat...but only if YOU want to..."
"What about that Colin Farrell DVD you told me about?"
"Want to watch it?"
"I'm not sleepy since I've slept all day. We can watch a movie and that way we won't HAVE to talk."
"Fine."
"What did you say the name of the movie was?"
"'A Home At The End Of The World'."
"And you haven't seen it?"
"Nope. I don't even know what it's about...so it'll be just as new to me as it is to you."
"Then please go get it."
Hank went into his room and looked through his box of DVD's until he found the right one and returned to Matt's bedroom. To Hank's surprise, Matt had moved to one side of his bed, leaving the other half vacant.
"I thought you'd be more comfortable lying in bed for two hours than sitting in that chair."
"You don't mind my lying next to you?" Hank asked.
"Not if you don't mind lying beside a freak."
"Damn it, Matt! Stop saying that! OK?"
"Sorry, I forgot about our agreement," Matt replied.
Hank put the DVD in the tray of the player and walked back to the bed and lay down beside Matt. Both were propped up in sitting positions with pillows behind their heads. The movie started and soon both guys got involved in the plot. Three different actors played the character that ends up being played by Colin...first as a child, who accidentally kills his brother. Then, as a teen who moves in with his best friend's family after Colin's character's father dies. The next scene that unfolded was the two teens lying in bed while one reached under the covers to feel the other's penis. The two wound up in mutual masturbation and Hank wished to God he had known that the story had a gay theme. He would never have suggested it to Matt with his homophobia. A few scenes later, Colin assumes the role himself, and his best friend is completely gay now, infected with AIDS. Colin's character is bisexual. He loves his best friend's female roommate as well as his best friend. Hank was getting more and more nervous, not knowing where the plot was headed or whom Colin would wind up with...the girl or the guy. Hank dared not look at Matt to get a glance of Matt's reaction watching two guys in love. Three-fourths through the film, Colin dances a slow dance with his best friend, the scene culminating in a long passionate kiss. Hank wanted to disappear, if possible. He was sure Matt must be totally disgusted, but Matt had yet to say anything or make the slightest comment.
Finally, the movie was over and Hank jumped up to take the disc out of the machine. He wanted to leave without discussing the film with Matt. As Hank started to leave, he turned to say good night to Matt when he noticed that Matt had tears streaming down his cheeks. Hank decided to chance it and asked, "So what did you think?"
"It was beautiful, Hank. I know what I said about faggots, but Colin and the other guy, well, they made it seem all right. The movie ended the way it should've."
"You weren't turned off by their relationship?"
"Hank, I'm not a dummy and I'm not a prude. I DO know that homosexual relationships DO exist and I guess they deserve to be as happy as anyone else. God knows, I'm not happy. Heck, if Colin Farrell wanted to kiss me, I might find no objection."
"You've certainly developed an 'about-face' attitude since earlier this afternoon when you thought that 'I' was trying to kiss you."
"Hank, come closer." After Hank neared the bed again, Matt said quietly "Now look at my face and my lips---do you think any woman, or any man for that matter, would want to press his lips on my mangled lips?"
"I came close to doing that when I was about to give you mouth-to-mouth."
"Yeah, but didn't you have to drum up courage to do it? I mean, didn't you hesitate or feel sick to your stomach about the idea of kissing me?"
"Matt, I WASN'T trying to kiss you. I was trying to save your life...and NO! I felt no sickness or disgust about placing my lips on yours."
"Then you deserve a Purple Heart or a bronze star for bravery."
"Did you get a Purple Heart when you got injured?"
"Nope! It wasn't in the line of duty to fill a gas tank. I wasn't injured in combat, so I didn't qualify."
"Good God! What the fuck did the Marine Corps think you were doing, gassing up to go on a picnic?"
"The day of the explosion, I was flown to Germany to an Army hospital. I saw all kinds of guys like myself, guys with one leg or with both legs blown off. Some were blind and others were in comas with head injuries. It was like a ward of people with missing parts...and would you believe, that no one in my ward was eligible for a purple heart?"
"God damn! What is the military thinking of? We've lost over two-thousand guys and gals in Iraq and no one is sure what it's all for!"
"I'd only been in Iraq two days and I was already wondering what the hell I was doing there. We were told by our CO's that it was to give the Iraqi people their freedom, but all the while I was recuperating, most of the injured guys at the hospital kept asking, 'Did Iraq ask us to help? To give them their freedom?' One guy said he couldn't understand why the President didn't invade Cuba. Castro was a bigger tyrant than Saddam...or even the oppressed people living under dictatorship in Haiti. We could have overthrown Cuba and Haiti in a matter of days. So what the fuck did they think, sending us to the Middle East when the same kind of tyranny was going on less than a hundred miles from Florida. No one had an answer. All of us were crippled or deformed for the rest of our lives and for what? NOTHING...not even a lousy purple ribbon."
"Matt, I shouldn't say this, but I'm very sorry for what happened to you over there."
"HA! YOU'RE SORRY? How do you think I feel about it? My life is over except for breathing, eating, and shitting. That's all I have to look forward to until I take my last shit."
"Would you like me to go get another DVD...a happier one?"
"Nah, I guess I want to lie here and think about the one I just saw. Let it sink in. I always do that when I like a movie a lot."
"Maybe we can watch a comedy tomorrow night, if you're up to it."
"Hell, what else is there to do?"
"Well, when you feel like it, we can get into my jeep and go for a ride just to give you a change of scenery."
"That might be OK."
Hank turned to leave and Matt stopped him. "Hey!"
Hank looked around to face Matt. "What?"
"Why are you doing this? I mean, why are you being so nice to me?"
"I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself that I'm a nice person. I do nice things for nice people."
"You think I'm nice?"
"Yes, I do, Matt, believe it or not."
"You know, no one has ever said that to me before."
"There are MANY things I want to say to you, but not now."
"Hank?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for saving my life."
"You'd've done the same for me. Maybe you don't realize it, but I KNOW you would've."
"Probably. I would've saved the lives of my fellow Marines, so I guess I would've saved yours, too."
"Thanks, Matt."
"No, thank you, Hank!"
"Good night, guy."
"Night."
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Art Boswell, the oldest member of Mike's crew was the only one left at the poker table when Hank came out of Matt's room. Mike and the rest of the guys had gone to bed. Art was sitting alone, quietly, nursing a small glass of bourbon.
"Hey, Hank,"
"Hi, Art."
"Care for a short drink?"
"No, sir, but I would like a soda."
"Since you've mastered the kitchen, I assume you know where sodas are kept."
"Yes, sir."
"Pop a can and come join me."
"Everyone else gone to bed?"
"All but me...and you."
Hank opened the refrigerator, got himself a cold can of Coke, then came back to sit at the table with Art.
"Who won the poker game?"
"Mike, of course."
"Why, 'of course'? Is he the best player?"
"The rest of us try to make him feel he is."
"So you LET him win?"
"Ah, that would be cheating and none of us cheat. Let's just say when one of us gets a poker hand that's probably a winner, or at least better than Mike's, we usually fold."
"Then you placate him, huh?"
"Mike LIKES to win...so we just sorta help him out."
"Seems like all of you like Mike a lot."
"We do. He's a fine man to work for. He's fair and pays us all good wages. I worked for Mike's dad when Mike was a mere pup."
"Then you must have known Matt's dad as well."
"I watched both boys grow up. Matt's dad, Sam, didn't cotton to industrial work the way Mike did. Mike took after his dad while Sam was more like his mom."
"What was Sam like?"
"Whimsical...totally the opposite of Mike. When they were kids, Mike would take a portable radio and tear it apart and spend hours putting back together again. Sam, on the other hand liked music, classical music to boot. He liked to read and write poetry. He'd take a classical LP like Rachmaninoff or Tchaikovsky and memorize the main theme from one of their symphonies and set lyrics to it. I'm sure if he had been given the chance, he'd have become a great musician or writer."
"Why didn't he?"
"Sam had trouble at school. He was unlike most of his peers in that his interests didn't concur with theirs and he became kind of an outcast. His school mates used to call him names and it would hurt his feelings. Then, Mike, who was two years older than Sam, would come to Sam's side to defend him and beat up any kid who made fun of his younger brother."
"You mean his schoolmates thought he was gay, huh?"
"I never knew if he was or wasn't, but his school mates thought it about him, just the same."
"Tell me more about him, Art."
"Well, to prove to his peers...and I think to his dad and Mike...that he was normal, Sam started dating every girl in the school...even those who had bad reputations."
"But not guys?"
"Oh, no! Girls and girls only. What I'm about to say, I hope you won't let it go any further than just between you and me."
"I won't."
"There was this one girl...the guys called her the town punching bag. Sam dated her twice, I think. Then she told Sam that she was pregnant. Back in those days, DNA wasn't known as it is today, so Sam never was sure whether her kid was his or not...and so he married her at his dad's insistence. When the child was born, he was named, 'Matthew'...or Matt. Sam had to go to work to make a living and he refused to work with his dad. So he took any job he could find. Only while he was scouting for work or doing odd jobs, his new bride continued seeing men on the side and making a few quick bucks whoring whenever she could. Sam and his wife struggled for years trying to make ends meet and a few years later, Sam developed clinical depression and wouldn't go see a doctor to get help after he was diagnosed. One night, he came home from work and found Matt, who was, I don't remember exactly, maybe ten or eleven years old...anyway, Matt was alone and told Sam that his mother was downtown shopping. So Sam got into his car and drove downtown to find her...only he happened to see his wife going into a motel that he was passing. Somehow, he got her into his car and on the way back home, the car went over an embankment and killed both of them instantly."
"Do you think it was suicide, Art?"
"No one will ever know, but I'll go to my grave believing that Sam killed both of them."
"And so Matt came to live with Mike?"
"Yes, Mike's dad died soon after and Mike and Matt got along really well until Matt decided to join the Marines. The rest is history. I guess you know what happened after that."
"Yes, Art, Matt told me about it."
"I'm amazed, Hank. Matt won't talk to ANYONE about what happened to him in Iraq. He must like you or at least, trust you."
"I think so."
"You know, when I saw him at breakfast this morning, all jolly and cheerful, I didn't recognize him. I could hardly believe my eyes. You've made a big change in Matt in only a couple of days. ALL of us guys see it, especially Mike. For what it's worth, Mike is very proud of what you've done for Matt."
"Yeah, I almost killed him today by letting him run when he shouldn't have."
"You didn't know about that and no one blames you. Matt just tried to pull a fast one on you, only HE paid the consequences."
"Art, if there was only something I could do for him...give him something to live for...make him WANT to live."
"Many doctors and psychiatrists have tried that for three years, so don't get discouraged if you fail. Matt WANTS to die and we all know it. If I were in his condition, I'd probably want the same thing, too. Sometimes at night when I think about Matt, I almost wish he'd get his wish. He knows he'll never lead a normal life or ANY life, for that matter. I was shocked as hell when Mike told us that you had taken Matt on an outing to pick flowers."
"You know, Art, Matt and I were having a great time until he ran and had that breathing problem. He actually smiled and laughed out loud a couple of times."
"How was he tonight when you went into his room?"
"A bit reluctant to see me at first. Then we talked and I encouraged him to eat some of the spaghetti I had fixed."
"Did he eat?"
"A whole plateful, followed by a dish of ice cream and peaches. THEN he wanted to watch a DVD."
"You're kidding?"
"No, I told him I had brought a big box full of DVD's from my home collection."
"What did you watch?"
"Matt told me he was a big Colin Farrell fan."
"That Irish guy who talks dirty and gets into fights?"
"The same."
"What was the name of the picture?"
"It was one I hadn't seen, but someone had given to me. It was 'A Home At The End Of The World'."
"Sounds like a serious drama with a title like that."
"You don't know HOW serious?"
"What do you mean?"
"Colin Farrell plays a bisexual and he has a love affair with his best friend..another guy and then Colin gets his best friend's female roommate pregnant."
"Oh, dear God! Did Matt get upset? More than once he's made it clear that he's homophobic."
"No, the strangest thing happened. Matt cried at the end of the movie."
"Jesus! That's not the Matt 'I' know."
"I was scared as shit he'd go into some kind of rage and have another coughing spell."
"Hank, can I trust you with a secret?"
"Sure."
"When Matt got home from Iraq, he became belligerent every time one of us made a joke about queers or faggots. He wasn't that way before he went into the Marines. I've always had a feeling that Matt had some kind of gay experience...a tragic one, I guess, while he was serving."
"If he did, that'd explain a lot, Art."
"Don't pry or mention it. I heard what he did when you tried to give him mouth-to-mouth. But I'm old enough to think that it was practical experience on Matt's part that caused him to become homophobic."
"Could be...but I won't ever talk about it unless he brings up the subject."
"You're wise for your age, Hank."
"My dad and I aren't close at all. So whatever I know about life, I've had to learn on my own."
"Well, son, I guess I'd better get to bed. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
"I wish I could go with you."
"You're working just as hard as the rest of us. OUR work is physical, but your being with Matt all day can put an emotional strain on you as well as a physical one."
"I guess I'll go to bed, too...after I've washed your glass."
"I'll wash my OWN glass. Mike isn't paying you to look after me."
Hank smiled at Art and was glad he had talked with him. There had been very few older men that Hank had ever talked with at length, particularly his own dad. Hank felt a bond with Art now. Although their ages were decades apart, Hank had made a friend and so had Art.
"Good night, Art."
"Good night, son."
Oh, if Martin Lazarus had ever said good night to Hank as Art just had, Hank's world would be very different.
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(To be continued in "The Passion of Matthew" chapter four.)