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 Seven
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The early morning sun in his eyes woke Hank the following morning. As he oriented himself, preparing for the day to come, he remembered the night just past. After he completed a hurried clean-up, Hank went to join everyone for breakfast. Striding into the kitchen, he was greeted by all the hands. His eyes noticed an empty chair; all were present except for Matt. He was suddenly aware that he hadn't bothered to check on Matt, he'd just assumed that Matt would be at the table with the others. To ease his mind, Hank decided he'd better check on him, just in case. In case of what? Matt's having attempted suicide? Matt being in a deeper depression? Or Matt's glee over the prank he had pulled on Hank? It could be any number of reasons, but since Hank was being paid to watch over Matt, he felt it was necessary that he see if anything was wrong.
As Hank turned from the table to head toward Matt's room, Mike stopped him. "In case you're going down to see about Matt, Hank, I checked on him a few minutes ago. He's fine, but he's tired from lack of sleep. He said to apologize to everyone but he'd rather rest than eat," Mike explained.
"Oh. Thanks, Mike."
"Did he give you a lot of trouble before you calmed him down?"
"Some, but I guess his nightmares were too vivid for him to just relax immediately. I stayed with him until I thought he was OK and then I went back to bed," Hank lied. In no way would he talk about what had really happened, although he did give a glance toward Bob and John to watch their reactions.
"I think I'll talk to Matt's doctors and see if he will increase the dosage of Matt's amitriptyline. That's supposed to help him sleep."
"Amitriptyline? Is that those large pink pills?"
"NO! That's a stimulant to give him energy! Don't tell me he asked you to get him one!"
"I'm afraid so, Mike. But I thought it was some kind of tranquilizer."
"What the hell was Matt thinking?" Mike asked, quite concerned. "Matt knows what every medication he's taking does for him. Why in God's name would he want a stimulant?"
"I have no idea, Mike. Since I didn't know one of his medications from the other, I gave him what he asked for."
"No wonder he didn't get much sleep! I'll talk to him before we all go to work and see what's up with him."
"I suppose you didn't get much sleep either, did you, Hank?" Bob asked.
"Well, I got enough. When I'm home, I can get by on just three or four hours of sleep nightly."
"God! To be young again...!" Bob replied.
"You're not old, Bob," Hank asked.
"I'll be thirty-five next month," Bob said.
"That's exactly one-half of the three score and ten that you were promised in the Bible," John retorted. "Then you're only halfway over the hill!"
"Will you shut the fuck up and eat your biscuits?" Bob joked back at John's remark.
"Did you forget I'm only thirty-three, so I have at least twenty-four more months to stay young!," John replied, laughing.
"You're just barely ten years older then I am, John." Hank said.
"But he looks twenty-five years older than you, Hank!" Bob quipped. "That's what marriage and having a child does to you!"
"If I look twenty-five years older than Hank, then you look like you're seventy-five years old!" John added.
"Hey, let's watch that! I'm closer to seventy-five than either of you guys will ever get!" Art interjected.
"How old ARE you, Art?" John asked.
"Sixty-four...just like the way Lennon and McCartney wrote about." Art began to sing, "When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now, will you still be sending me a Valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I'd been out 'till quarter to three, would you lock the door?"
Everyone at the table, except for Hank, joined in for the final lyric, "Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?"
They all laughed aloud and applauded themselves. Soon thereafter, Mike, Art, John, Bob, and Jim all left for the pipeline site to begin the days' work, leaving Hank behind with Matt. Since Mike had assured Hank that Matt was all right, Hank chose to ignore or at least keep his distance from Matt while he washed the breakfast dishes, skillets, and pans.
After all the breakfast things were clean and put away, it was nine o'clock. Hank heard the sound of 'LIVE WITH REGIS AND KELLY' coming from the TV in Matt's bedroom. Hank was again reassured that Matt was OK, having begun watching his morning TV shows. Hank was still pissed at being the brunt of Matt's petty stunt in the bedroom. Normally when Hank heard the sound of Matt's TV, he would go into Matt's room and to ask what he wanted for breakfast. But this morning, instead of going to Matt's room, Hank went outside on the porch and sat down on the wooden steps to think. The morning sun should have cleared his mind, but instead, it seemed to blind his perceptions.
Hank tried to replay last night's conversation with Lance in his mind. He also began to think back of the various Wednesdays when the two of them had met for their weekly rendezvous. Had Lance ever uttered the simple phrase, "I love you"? He suddenly became aware of saying those words to Lance time and time again, but Hank could not recall a single time that Lance had echoed the phrase. Did Hank and Lance have a relationship at all beyond sex? Or would Lance ever leave Lois and ask Lance to live with him as lovers? Or was Hank a mere boy-toy for Lance's casual sexual convenience?
Hank was befuddled. On one hand he had a so-called lover who had never declared his love for Hank, but on the other hand, there was Matt who had expressed a deep love for Hank, a love Hank was unable to return. Was it because Hank's physical deformity turned Hank off? Hank knew that if he and Matt ever DID became a 'couple', the two of them would never go out to a movie, to dinner, they would never take a trip together because Matt would never allow himself to be seen in public. Or was it that HANK WOULD BE ASHAMED? Ashamed for everyone to look at Matt and see the physical horror that Hank had chosen to be his mate?
Dear God in heaven! What would Martin Lazarus say or do if Hank were to bring Matt home with him to say, 'Hey, Dad, I'm gay and this is my lover, Matt!'? Either Hank's dad would drop dead from heart failure or he would kill Hank out of sheer disgust and embarrassment. Hank was in a pickle, putting it mildly, and he had eleven weeks to go before returning home with or without the promise of Lance becoming his partner...DEFINITELY, he'd be returning home WITHOUT Matt.
The longer Hank sat on the porch thinking, the more unsure he became of his real situation. Suddenly, he looked at his hands and both were trembling. Hank had never had need of tranquilizers even after his mother died, which left Hank depressed. But today, what he wouldn't give for a double dose of Prozac or Paxil! Hank was on the verge of cracking up, not Matt! Because now, Hank was convinced that most of Matt's problems were fake or self-induced, just to get attention.
The one saving grace for Hank was that he remembered that Mike and he had said that staying home with Matt was for a two week trial period and if it wasn't working out, Hank could take the surveyor's position for which he was originally hired. Damn! Could Hank take twelve more days of being around Matt? If Matt made another overture toward Hank, Hank was afraid he might even hit Matt. Mike would fire Hank for sure and send him home packing to his dad.
It was lucky for Hank that his name wasn't Clark Kent with x-ray vision because if he could see across the miles into Lance's office, he would discover the door to Lance's office was locked and Lance was on his knees while a young, handsome, UPS delivery guy was sitting on the side of Lance's desk gazing down at Lance sucking his penis. Only after the delivery guy reached his climax, Lance ask his name. The young man replied, "Tony" and Lance asked if Tony could arrange to deliver a parcel to him in his office every Friday morning, even if it meant Lance would send the parcel to himself. Tony told Lance that that could easily be arranged and left. Lance was filling his weekly calendar very nicely...Hank on Wednesday's, Marcel on Thursdays, and now Tony every Friday morning. Yes, life was good for Lance... or so he thought!
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Matt stayed in his room all morning, missing breakfast AND lunch. Hank still hadn't gone into Matt's room to see about him, but at one in the afternoon, Hank broke down, cooled down his 'mad', and knocked lightly on Matt's door.
"Yeah?" Matt yelled out.
"It's me, Hank."
"I know who it is!"
"Can I come in?"
"What for?"
"Just to see if you're all right."
"Take my word for it! I'm fine."
Matt's harsh verbal tone didn't stop Hank from opening the door. Matt was lying in bed, fully-dressed, watching some court TV show.
"Are you OK?" Hank asked.
"Didn't I just say so? Couldn't you take my word without barging in, uninvited?"
"I suppose I could've, but..."
"But you thought you find me, blood running from my good wrist, or passed out by overdosing on my sleeping pills. Is that what you expected?"
"Very frankly, I didn't know, Matt. I had to see for myself." He fought to retain his calm. "I can see that you're angry."
"Oh, really? WHATEVER gave you such an idea?"
"The tone of your voice for one thing..."
"Why should I be angry?"
"I'm not sure. To be honest, I'm' the one who should be angry, not you!"
"Why the fuck should YOU be angry?"
"Over that little stunt you pulled this morning, faking a bad dream just to get me in bed with you."
"Would you have lain down with me if I hadn't tricked you?"
"Quite possibly."
"Look, Hank, you don't have to be nice to me and I'd prefer it if you didn't lie to me."
"When have I lied to you?"
"Filling my head with ideas about inner beauty instead of scarred burned skin!"
"I didn't lie. You DO have an inner beauty. You're just afraid to show it."
"Bullshit!"
"Matt, I have to know something and don't YOU lie to ME."
"What?"
"You said that Bob and John had both helped you 'get off' from time to time. Was that true?"
"Hell, no! They wouldn't touch me anymore than you would."
"Then why did you say it, Matt?"
"I...I thought if you believed THEY had done it, you wouldn't see anything wrong with YOUR doing it to me."
"I'm glad you told me the truth because I was going to ask them about it when I got the chance...or at least when Mike wasn't around."
"NO! They haven't touched me. NO ONE has touched me since I got burned."
"I'm sorry. You must be even lonelier than I imagined."
"You know what a big movie buff I am."
"Sure."
"There are two movie characters that remind me of myself...John Merrick, the Elephant Man....and Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame."
"I'm familiar with both of them."
"Maureen O'Hara didn't love Charles Laughton. She felt sorry for him for the way he looked. John Hurt in 'The Elephant Man' was a freak and they put him into a side show with a carnival barker asking people to pay money just to see him. HA! When most little kids get mad at their mothers, they say they're gonna run off and join the circus. Sometimes that's what I feel like doing...just running off and joining the circus to be the main attraction. 'COME SEE THE FREAK FOR ONLY TWENTY-FIVE CENTS!'."
"Matt, for the umpteenth time, you are not a freak! Inside, you're the same Matthew Sawyer that you were the day you were born."
"Good! So why don't you call one of the VA hospitals and see if they can operate on me and turn me wrong side out like a pair of old blue jeans?"
"If that were possible, I think a lot of us might like to have the same operation."
"Horseshit! As handsome as you are, why in hell would YOU want to be turned inside out?"
"Sometimes I wish I weren't gay. I didn't choose to be gay. It's just that BEING gay with a dad like mine, my life has been almost as miserable as yours...only I've been this way for twenty-one, almost twenty-two years. You've only been the way you are for about three years."
"Would you trade places with me, Hank?"
"In many ways, yes, I would."
"Why?"
"People like your uncle accept you as you are and your uncle still loves you. If my dad knew that I was gay, he'd hate me forever. I think he hates me anyway."
"Why do you think that?"
"Matt, I've never known what it feels like to be loved since my mother died. My dad doesn't love me. He just tolerates me--he has to because I'm his son. If you weren't so damned bullheaded and blind, you'd see that Mike, Art, John, and Bob, they ALL love you. I don't know about Jim. I haven't really talked with him too much. But my point IS...there are four people who love YOU dearly and I don't have anybody."
"What about your almighty lover, Lance?"
"I think Lance loves me---but he's never once said it."
"But you love him...?"
"With all my heart, but I can't even FORCE those words out of him. So, sheer good looks by themselves won't get you loved."
"I...I said I thought I could love you, but you rejected my love."
"That's because I'll be leaving here in approximately eleven weeks. I'm going to college. Why, for the love of God, should you and I enter into a relationship when we know it's got to be short-lived?"
"Oh, I've thought all about that! Can you see taking me to a frat prom as your date? I mean, wouldn't you just be bursting with pride to introduce me to your fraternity brothers as your gay lover or mate? GOD! Don't you think that would be hilarious?"
"Not particularly, but it would create a couple of problems for both of us."
"A COUPLE! How about a couple of thousands?"
"Matt, look! Your Uncle Mike and I agreed on a two week trial period to see how it would work out between us if I stayed here every day to be your companion. I could easily tell Mike that it's not going so good and he can make other arrangements, get someone else to be with you during the day while he's at work."
"Why does Uncle Mike think I need a fucking babysitter?"
"Probably from your track record of attempting suicide."
"Shit! No one can watch me twenty-four hours a day and if I get ready to kill myself, you or no one else can stop me."
"Do you remember or have you ever seen Jack Nicholson in 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest?"
"About a dozen times."
"What do you think it would be like if Mike hired a 'Nurse Ratched' to stay with you?"
"A WOMAN?"
"A big ballsy-assed bull dike!"
"Then I WOULD kill myself!"
"I doubt it. A mental health nurse is trained to keep a patient from harming himself or others. She'd be more qualified to look after you than I am."
"OK! So what if I decide to behave myself?"
"You'd have to prove that to me first."
"How?"
"Stop lying! Stop faking attacks! But most of all, stop making sexual innuendos toward me!"
"Hank, I can't help the way I feel about you." For the first time in their conversation, Hank seemed to have obtained the upper hand. "Then keep your thoughts to yourself and don't mention being in love with me. I can't handle that, Matt. It's unfair to me and it's unfair to Lance."
"Why is it unfair to Lance when I've never even seen or met him? Besides, you don't even know if Lance actually loves you!"
"The main thing is that I LOVE LANCE. I like you. I like you a lot! But I don't LOVE you. It puts a strain on me being around you knowing how you feel about me and knowing that I can't, or won't, reciprocate!"
"You use such big twenty-five dollar words...reciprocate...innuendos...Are you trying to convince me that you're not only better looking than me but you're ten times smarter?"
"Sorry. I'll try to limit my vocabulary to four-letter words, which you seem to understand better!"
"Good! It's settled, I'm not only ugly but I'm dumb as well!"
"Goddammit, Matt! Your constant banter is driving me crazy!"
"Banter? What's that, a baby rooster?"
"No, a baby rooster is a bantam and you damned well know it."
"OK, so I was trying to make a joke!"
"Ha! Ha!"
"I get the feeling that you hate me, Hank."
"No, I don't hate you. I just hate what you're doing to my psyche...sorry, what you're doing to my brain or, to use a four-letter word, my mind!"
"All right, if you agree to stay with me every day, what should I do to make it easier for you?"
"I know this will be difficult or HARD for you, but I wish you would forget I told you I was gay. Pretend I'm a fellow marine who's straight and likes women."
"That would be easier for me to do than you. How could you pretend you like women when I know damned well you don't?"
"Well, for one thing, we don't have to talk about sex...gay OR straight. We can limit our conversation to movies, books, world events! For that reason, I won't show you any more gay movies from my DVD collection."
"WOW! I hope you brought 'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory' and 'The Wizard of Oz'!"
"As a matter of fact, I brought both of them with me."
"Golly gee whee! What fun we can have! Can you serve tea and party cakes with them?"
"If you want tea and party cakes, I'll serve them, Matt. Matt! I've GOT to make money for college whether by staying here with you or by surveying in the field with Mike, but I need the money!"
"I thought your dad was rich!"
"Not rich, but comfortably wealthy."
"And he won't pay for you college tuition?"
"Nope!"
"He must be a regular asshole!"
"In some ways, he is, but he's still my father."
"OK! I give up! I'll behave and let you earn your tuition. I promise not to talk about sex and I won't give you suggestive looks to show the way I feel about you."
"Since you promised, I'll take you at your word, but I WILL hold you to that promise."
"I SAID, 'OK', DIDN'T I?"
"Yes. Now would you like some lunch?"
"I suppose."
"And do you want to help me fix dinner for Mike and the guys?"
"Yes, Sergeant Lazarus!"
"Then get your ass out of bed and march into the kitchen...NOW, Private Sawyer!"
"YES, SIR!"
Matt strapped on his prosthesis and followed Hank into the kitchen. After he had a sandwich and a can of soup, he helped Hank prepare stuffed pork chops, scalloped potatoes, and French green beans with a lemon-butter sauce. Then Hank had Matt cap a bowl of fresh strawberries and whipped some cream while Hank made some tart cups out of canned biscuit dough. It seemed that even Matt was pleased with the way the dinner turned out and couldn't wait for Mike, Art, Bob, John, and Jim to sample the cuisine.
The men all raved over the dinner and when Hank told them that Matt did most of the work, they heaped praise and compliments on Matt. Matt actually smiled with pride when everyone bragged on his afternoon's endeavor.
As time approached for Hank to receive his nightly phone call from Lance, Hank excused himself from the table and walked out on the porch to keep Matt from hearing the sound of the cell phone chiming.
There was nothing new to the conversation between Hank and Lance, just a rehash of the day's events and the call ended with Hank saying his usual, 'I love you' to Lance and Lance, as usual, didn't respond in kind. Lance DID confirm that he was coming to Philemon late Friday and wanted Hank to meet him at the city limits around eight o'clock in the evening.
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Matt kept his promise to Hank for the rest of the week. Hank mentioned to Mike that a friend was coming to meet him Friday night and asked if he could be excused from his duties with Matt for the weekend. Mike was happy to give his approval and Hank began counting the hours and minutes until he would be back in Lance's arms.
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Finally, Friday came and Hank and Matt fixed an early dinner and left it in the oven to stay warm while Hank shaved, showered, and dressed for his date with Lance. The city limits were about ten miles from Mike's place and so Hank left around 7:15PM, just in case Lance arrived a bit earlier than planned.
The main road in Philemon was being repaired with tar and gravel, but there were many holes which hadn't been completely filled and Hank hit a few of them rather hard which caused his Jeep to bounce from time to time. One hole hadn't been filled at all, and Hank's Jeep went nearly six inches deep into the ground and caused Hank to bounce straight up out of his seat. At the same time, Hank heard a verbal, 'UH!' coming from behind the driver's seat. Quickly, he stopped and looked around only to discover Matt crouched in the back seat floorboard with a blanket covering him.
"MATT! WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
Sheepishly, Matt uttered, "I knew where you were going and I had to get a look at Lance."
"GOD DAMN IT! I'm supposed to spend the weekend with Lance. Are you planning to spend all that time lying in the floor back there?"
"If necessary, YES, GODAMMIT."
"FUCK! I'm taking you back home!"
"No, please! Just let me out on the side of the road. You can call Uncle Mike to come pick me up!"
"I'LL DO NO SUCH THING! I'LL DRIVE YOU HOME MYSELF!"
"Oh, Hank, PLEASE! I'm so sorry! I just couldn't bear the thought of you having sex with Lance all weekend."
"WHY? He's my lover!"
"Because I love you so much, Hank! I've tried to stop but I just can't. I mean if there was only the chance of holding you in my arms as Lance will, I'd give my life to be in his place for just one moment."
"SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! What am I gonna do? You broke your promise to me!"
"Yes, but the way I feel about you transcends ANY promise!"
"Jesus! Where did you learn a word like 'transcends'?"
"You might think I'm dumb, but I'm not...just like you might think I don't love you, but I do!"
Hank's Jeep had stopped about a hundred yards from the city limits sign. He suddenly saw Lance's Lexus approaching and signaling by switching his headlights on and off.
"Oh, GOD! There's Lance."
"Then let me out before he sees me."
"Sorry, but I can't do that! Mike would never understand or forgive me. He'd fire me and that would be the end of my tuition money."
Matt took the blanket and pulled it over his head, trying to hide as Lance car pulled up next to Hank's.
"Hi, sweetheart!" Lance hailed, with a big smile.
"Hi, Lance," Hank replied, almost glumly.
"What's the matter? Aren't you glad to see me?"
"Of course I am."
"Hey, I found a motel about five miles from here. I've already checked in. I brought a bottle of champagne and I asked the motel manager to ice it for me while I came to get you."
"Lance, I'm sorry, but something has come up and I might have to delay following you to the motel?"
"What, for crying out loud? What do you mean, 'something has come up'?"
"God damn it, Lance! You might as well know. Matt, the guy I'm looking after, hid behind the back seat and he's hiding there now!"
"What ever for?"
Hank turned back around and looked at Matt.
"Matt, take off that cover and sit up. I want you to meet Lance."
Slowly Matt removed the blanket and sat up. It was dark and Lance couldn't see Matt very well until a passing car drove by, its headlights shining directly on Matt's face. Lance took one look at Matt and gasped, "GOOD GOD! HANK, WATCH OUT! THAT FREAK'S GONNA ATTACK YOU!!"
Hearing Lance's offensive outcry, Hank wanted to sink into the floorboard of the front seat. When Matt heard Hank's sound of disgust, he let out a cry so loud, it might have been heard all the way back to Mike's house.
Lance, realizing what he had done, was more than embarrassed and tried to say, "I'm sorry" to give it real meaning, but Matt continued to scream and holler as if he had been hit with a board filled with nails. Hank couldn't move. He didn't know what to do or say as he clutched the steering wheel so hard that the blood was leaving his fingers, turning them white.
Once again, Lance said, "I'm sorry," but this time to Hank.
Hank closed his eyes, wishing he weren't there. He knew how revolting Matt's appearance had been to Lance. Matt knew it too. Finally, Hank crawled over the front seat to get to the back to comfort Matt and try to calm him as much as possible. By now, Matt was flailing his arms and couldn't catch his breath. Matt was gasping for air with very short pants and Hank felt Matt could be in danger of dying!
Then Hank screamed, "Lance, park your car on the side of the road and lock it. Then get into my Jeep and head toward town to the hospital!"
"Where is it?" Lance yelled.
"How the hell do I know? Just drive! It's got to be close by somewhere!"
Lance parked his car, locked it as Hank suggested, and turned Hank's Jeep around and drove nearly 70 miles an hour toward town. Nearly a mile later, they had to stop for a traffic light and Lance jumped out of the Jeep to ask the driver of the car in front of them for directions to the hospital. Luckily, the hospital was only a few blocks away and Lance sped as fast as he could to the emergency room.
Once the Jeep was stopped, Lance got out and helped Hank carry Matt's apparently lifeless body into the ER. Simon Carter, the intern who had visited Matt at Mike's house was on duty. As soon as Simon saw Hank carrying Matt in his arms, he got a gurney to lay Matt on and rolled him into one of the examining rooms. Hank stayed at Matt's side, holding his good hand the entire time as Simon worked on Matt, beginning by intubating him to assist with Matt's breathing. In the light, Hank could see that Matt's face had turned a grayish-blue color. Feeling helpless, Lance remained outside in the anteroom.
"How did this happen?" Simon asked Hank.
"He just had one of his attacks. He was...rather, we were going for a ride and he just starting gasping and crying out for help," Hank said, stretching the truth.
"My God, how he needs a lung transplant!" Simon said. "One would think that the VA hospital would have given him one after he was injured in Iraq."
"Just how bad ARE Matt's lungs, Dr. Carter?"
"They're both in terrible shape. The scarring from the flames he inhaled left both his lungs like shoe leather. It's like he tries to breathe through two pottery vases. They won't expand when he inhales or retract when he exhales. They're like two permanent fixtures. I don't suppose you've had time to call his uncle?"
"No, as soon as he started gasping, I brought him here straightaway. Do you think I should go call him?"
"Yes, I think he should be here. I...I don't know if Matt will make it through the night."
Hank left the examining room to go to the ER admission's desk to use the phone to call Mike. Lance rushed to Hank.
"How is he?"
"Bad, Lance. Really bad."
"Dear God! Did I cause this?"
"Don't blame yourself. What happened to Matt happened in Iraq. It doesn't take much to exacerbate his condition."
"DAMN! Why did I say what I did? I...I had no idea how horrible he was to look at. I wasn't prepared for what I saw. I mean, when he reared up in the back seat, it looked like you were about to be attacked by Freddy Kreuger or some other monster."
"I have to call Mike, his uncle."
"Go ahead. Don't let me detain you, Hank."
Hank made the call to Mike and Mike first thought Hank was joking. Mike assumed Matt was in his room. He had no idea that Matt had left in Hank's Jeep. Jim stayed at the house while Mike, Art, John, and Bob hurried to the hospital.
Lance walked over to meet Hank after Hank completed his phone call to Mike.
"Are his folks coming?" Lance asked.
"His uncle and some of the guys that work on the site are. Matt has no family except his uncle."
"Hank, you know I didn't say what I did to cause him harm. I had no idea he was hiding in the backseat floorboard. All I saw was this horrible looking creature standing up behind you and I feared for your safety!"
"I know. I know, Lance. It really wasn't your fault. Matt had no business hiding in the back of my Jeep. You had no way of knowing it was he, but it was what you said and the way you said it. You can plainly see why Matt is so sensitive about his looks. He thinks of himself as a freak and thinks everyone sees him as he sees himself...only you verbalized it."
"DAMN! I feel terrible. What did the doctor say about him? Is he gonna make it?"
"I don't know. He had a breathing spell almost like this one when I took him on a walk in the woods. After he rested long enough to catch his breath, he recovered in a day or two."
"God, I hope he recovers this time, too."
"So do I."
"Hank, what do you want to do? Should I go back to the motel to wait on you?"
"I don't know, Lance, but I DO know you shouldn't be here. If Matt regains consciousness. I don't want him to see you."
"Are you going to stay until his uncle arrives or longer, just in case he comes to?"
"Right now, I'm trying to decide what to say or how much to tell his Uncle Mike. I told Mike I was going to spend the weekend with a friend from home. Mike doesn't know about me---that I'm gay---and he CERTAINLY doesn't know about you being my lover. He's a friend of my dad's and if my dad gets wind of anything about me OR YOU, I'm in a shitload of trouble."
"Let me write down the name of the motel where I'm staying. You can get the number from information and give me a call as soon as you find out something."
"I will, Lance."
"God, I want to hold you in my arms so badly that I could climax right here just thinking about it."
"And I want to be IN your arms, Lance. I've needed you to hold me ever since I got here in Philemon. I hate to admit it, but looking after Matt all day and night has been more stressful than anything I've ever tried to do."
"You mean you have to do total care on him, like bathing, feeding...and taking him to the toilet?"
"No, Matt can do all those things independently."
"Then why has it been so stressful."
"Because, Lance, Matt thinks he's in love with me."
"Holy shit! Hank, have you done anything to encourage him?"
"Hell, no! I've done nothing but DIScourage him. I even made him promise me not to say anything about the way he feels about me. It worked...he kept his promise all week until tonight when he hid in the backseat of my Jeep on my way to meet you."
"He KNOWS about me?"
"Yes, I told him you were my lover...I used that to try to deflect his feelings toward me. Apparently, it didn't work. He wanted to see you, to see your face. He had to see what kind of competition he was up against. Matt's very jealous of you."
"Hank, look at me and answer me truthfully--how do you feel about Matt?"
"Are you crazy? He's a thorn in my side, an albatross around my neck, a horrid shadow that follows me in the light AND the dark."
"Then why don't you come home with me? Once I ask Lois for a divorce, I'll pay for your college tuition."
"Lance, let me put something to you as you just did to me!"
"What?"
"Look ME straight in the eye and answer ME truthfully. Lance, do you love me?"
"Why...how could you ask such an absurd question? You know how I feel about you."
"No, I don't, Lance. I know you shower me with kisses and great sex when we meet in bed every Wednesday, but you've never said those three important words...'I LOVE YOU'.
"You want me to say it here in the lobby of this hospital for everyone to hear?"
"There's no one listening to you except me...so either say it or tell me that you DON'T love me. At least I'll know where our relationship stands."
"OK, I...I'll say it to you after you meet me at the motel and I'm sure no one else is listening."
"You won't say it now?"
"NO! I'd be too embarrassed, Hank!"
"In that case, go sleep at the motel by yourself. I won't be joining you."
"Look, Hank, we had the whole weekend planned. I drove all the way down here just to be with you. Doesn't that say something? Doesn't that prove how much you mean to me?"
"Without your saying the words, it only means that you are horny and THAT'S what I mean to you."
"Ah, shit, Hank..."
"Goodbye, Lance..."
"What?"
"I said 'goodbye'! Have a nice sleep at the motel and have a safe trip home when you wake up."
"Hank, you don't mean this! We...we have our whole lives planned together."
"Our lives? Once a week? Every Wednesday? Is that what you mean by 'our lives together'? Lance, I want you to leave before Mike gets here and I REALLY should be in the room with Matt. He might be dead and here I am, standing in the middle of a room waiting for you to say something you don't have the balls to say!"
"OK! Goddammit! I LOVE YOU!" Lance shouted. "THERE! Did that satisfy you? Was it loud enough?"
"I'm not sure, but give me the name of the motel and I WILL call you later and tell you what I've decided to do."
Quickly, Lance pulled out one of his business cards from his coat pocket and wrote down the name of the motel and handed to Hank.
"Hank, please call me. I'll be lying in bed waiting for you with my arms wide open."
"Don't hold your arms open too long because I'm not sure if I'll be coming there to meet you."
"But..."
"Go, Lance! Go now! I see Mike's car pulling up in the parking lot."
"You WILL call, won't you?"
"I said I would and I will...now get the hell out of here!"
Lance all but ran into Mike, Art, Bob, and John entering the emergency room as Lance was making a quick exit. The four guys ran toward Hank.
"How's Matt, Hank?" Mike said, out of breath.
"Come on, I'll let you see for yourself..."
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(To be continued in "The Passion of Matthew" chapter eight.)