The Perfect Son

Story: The Perfect Son

Chapter 1 Questions

Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)

Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex

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After following all directives in life given by his parents, he went to the right school, he got the right degrees, he dated the right girl, he was taking control of the family very successful business...tragedy causes Brad to drop out of that life and ask questions. He seeks answers while contemplating his own death.

Questions

The call of a high-flying eagle diverted my attention from my task of putting new shingles down, replacing the ones that had come loose or were just worn. Looking up I saw him circling on thermal air currents that kept him in flight with seemingly no effort. Hunting? Maybe, but mostly he just seemed to be enjoying the fact that he could fly. Other than the breeze that blew through the forest of trees that surrounded the house, there was almost no sound, the breeze, and the eagle. Listening, I did hear the distant hum of a motor as a boat sped across the lake that could be seen below in the distance. By perspective, the boat was a quarter of an inch long and I could just see the skier that was little more than a speck on Lake Fontana. That's when I felt a sense of peace. The Southern edge of the Great Smoky Mountains was my home. Say what you will, I was told these mountains would call to what Native American blood I had. This land had been in my family since before the turn of the century. That was the turn of the 20th century. Now it was part of a National Forest and State Park. But, because my family was here before it became a park, it was grandfathered in legally with the understanding that the land would never be sold. It could be passed down through the family, but never sold. There were many that wanted it, but no one would get it. We were just off the Appalachian Trail so there were hikers that often passed nearby. We had a spectacular view from the house and porch off the back of our house, or cabin really. The house, what I often referred to as the giant cheese wedge because that's what it looked like, a cheese wedge lying down. Thick on the far end and narrowed down to a single story. Built by my great-grandfather and grandfather, it was a thing coveted. My great-grandfather had built the two-story fat end of the cabin, then grandfather had built the sloping portion with lots of windows to take in the breathtaking views on the thinning end. As far as I knew, we were the only residence on this side of the reservoir and dam. We were on the North Carolina side. What was interesting, to get to town, Fontana Lake Village, North Carolina we had to cross the Appalachian Trail, go briefly into Tennessee, and then take the road to get to Fontana Lake Village. It was about a half an hour away, in spite of the fact that I could see the town from the house on the mountainside. It was late September and people were still enjoying the warm weather, holdouts on the Fall that had already arrived, and the warm weather clung to the mountains, refusing to lose its grasp.

"Eric!" I heard, shaking my momentary basking in the beauty of the surroundings. Well, it was!

"Yes, Elisi," I called down to my grandmother and glanced at my watch. "I lost myself up here. Sorry."

My grandmother chuckled. "That's understandable. It's a beautiful day."

I gathered the tools and headed down the ladder.

"Tyler can be a powder keg if not kept up with," She smiled at me.

I chuckled at that. "He is a bundle of energy." I was to pick him up from school. "Let me change my shirt." I kissed her on the cheek as I walked in the house.

My grandmother was a rare human being. I mean because of her heritage as well as her personal qualities. Born of an Austrian Jew and a full-blooded Cherokee. As far as I knew, she was the only one. I could be wrong, but I don't think so. Though not quite Jewish, she held beliefs of her heritage, both European Jewish Culture and Cherokee Culture. Her physical features were from her mother like a European Aristocrat, but her skin was dark like her Cherokee father. Tyler and I had been raised on much of our rich Cherokee Heritage. That was why Tyler, and I used the Cherokee word for grandmother, Elisi. Her hair was still long and black, and her skin showed almost no wrinkles, hiding the fact that she was now about to be seventy. Still thin and still had an attractive figure woman of all ages wish they had. People often thought she was my mother...most were startled when they found out she was my grandmother. And some just knew it was a lie. But she is, she really is. My mother had passed away some ten years ago when I was fifteen. My father had died when I was five. So, she was my mother in a lot of ways.

Coming down the steps of logs that had been halved to make the stairs, I called out. "Come on, Barney! Let's get Tyler." I was answered by the orring bark of the little beagle that was Tyler's faithful companion since Tyler was one year old. I heard the scratching of toenails that needed clipping as the beagle scrambled on the polished wood floors as he fought for traction on the slick floor in his excitement. He was going to see his boy!

"Back in a little while," I said to grandmother who was back in the house as I headed for the garage.

In the garage, I opened the door to the antique 1953 Ford F100 that was fire engine red and still ran like a dream. My late grandfather, he'd died about five years before. Elisi's husband. Hey, people die, but the man was a mechanical dream. He could fix anything and restored the truck. What he believed about it is if you restore it, why not enjoy it? Drive the damn thing! He left it to me and insisted I drive it. So, I did! Barney hopped up to the passenger side and waited as I started it up. Off we went. As I said, over the trail, into Tennessee, then back into North Carolina and down a thickly tree lined road. Pulling into the drive of the school, I waited with the others that came to pick up a child that attended here. The little private school was all wood and left the natural wood color show, giving the school a look a lot like our cabin, but elegant and at home in the surrounding trees. The doors to the classes opened to a wooden deck that made up the walkways. I got out and waited, Barney perched at the passenger side window, which was open, but he stayed in the truck as he waited for his boy. I gave the lovable dog a scratch on his head.

Then the bell rang and the peaceful quiet was instantly filled with the cacophony of noise and chaos as children spilled from their classes onto the deck and rushed out like a sudden tidal wave toward the waiting cars and trucks. I saw the black-haired boy, shirttail half in, half out and a huge smile on his face. A typical five, no, make that six-year-old, which Tyler would correct you on, but very happy and didn't give his appearance much thought or concern. Book bag flopping on his back and a picture he had done in hand, flapped in the wind as he rushed towards me. Elisi was right, he was a powder keg of energy. I shook my head. Not at Tyler, but my sister for missing all this. Elisi said Lynn was having a hard time with the deaths. Her father, her mother, her grandfather....she just couldn't deal with it. That I never understood. Death was a part of life. It happened. No one was ever asked if they could deal with it. It was tragic, but it happened.

"Hi, Uncle Eric!" Tyler greeted running up to me, plowing into me as I scooped him up.

"Hey, Buddy!" I kissed his temple and roughed up his dark hair, just like mine. "You had a good day." I stated the obvious. You could tell.

"Uh huh." He said nodding. "See what I drew." He showed his prized art work to me. There were talents in our family and Tyler seemed to be taking after all of us, his great-grandmother in particular. This wasn't a stick figure picture, no, there were people in it. Complete with arms, legs, hair, hands. Clothed, standing next to a cabin he drew with the wood and brown and looked amazing like our cabin! "See? There's you, me, Elisi, and Barney!" To which he received a bark from the passenger side, where Barney stayed, but was urging everyone to hurry up. His tail was almost invisible as it wagged so fast.

"A future Da Vinci," I said nodding.

"Who?" Tyler asked.

I grinned. "He was a great artist a long, long time ago. You'll learn about him soon enough," I looked at him. "You...need a haircut."

He looked almost distressed for a second. "Again!?" I put him in the front seat and Barney awarded continued licks on Tyler's face which Tyler didn't stop. "Hi, Barney!"

"Yes, again." I chuckled answering his question. "Either that or I need to get you some ribbons. Maybe like hers." I pointed to one of his classmates with long dark hair and ribbons keeping her two ponytails together.

Tyler frowned when he saw them. "I'm not a girl!"

I got in nodding and smiling more. "Exactly. Now, buckle up."

The ride back was filled with him telling the things he'd done, seen and many of the things his teacher shared. Nonstop. He exploded into the house once there.

"Hi, Elisi!" He greeted as he rushed to her, hugging her.

"Hi, Tyler!" She greeted, hugging him back. "You can tell me all about your day, but first put your book bag away."

"Okay. Come on, Barney!" He cried and up the steps they went.

I smiled as I watched him go. "It's a shame he can't be any happier."

Elisi laughed agreeing. "He's just happy to be alive."

I finished what I was doing with the shingles as Tyler played with Barney in the yard. Well, there was no real yard with grass. We were surrounded by thick trees and the canopy didn't allow much sunlight through. I kept the area free of brush and kept it clean. Barney chased and ran from Tyler with happy barks. Then I heard Elisi call to it was almost time for supper and we needed to clean up. What I did was hard work, so I needed a shower. Coming down I did the shower and changed and heard Elisi ask Tyler to set the table. Which he did willingly, but I noticed he was setting out four plates.

"Are we having a guest?" I asked Elisi.

Elisi looked at me oddly. "I wasn't aware of any." Then looked at her great-grandson. "Tyler? Who's the other plate for?"

He shrugged. "Idunno." That's a child's version of I don't know. "He's approaching now."

"But you don't know who." I clarified carefully.

Elisi smiled. "I hope I have enough."

"And you don't remember inviting anyone?" I said to her. "How do you know someone's coming?" I asked her.

"Have you ever known Tyler to be wrong when he does this?" She asked with a pointed look. "You always question it. Tyler has a gift. Just as you do. How do you always know when someone's lying? Always."

It was true. No one could lie to me. Even the most clever people, conmen, whatever couldn't lie to me. A talent I was told was passed down from her Cherokee great-grandfather. He was supposed to have been a mystic. Often he would see things, or just know things others didn't. I wasn't too sure if it was a true psychic ability or just like in a popular TV show, Lie to Me when a person can just tell based on body language and observation. There are people that could just read the many outward signs, subtle clues, of someone lying that a majority didn't see. I figured that was the best assumption.

"Well? How many times has he told us someone was coming, and they did?" Elisi insisted on an answer.

I shrugged. "No. He's never been wrong." I turned to Tyler. "Where is he?"

Tyler pointed out toward the trail. "He's coming off the trail now." He said simply.

I nodded and sighed. "I better go greet him."

There was a path that lead off of the trail to our cabin. There were towns and other stops along the trail that welcomed hikers. We had done that on occasion when granddad was alive, but we weren't doing it now. But someone was coming this way, according to my five-year-old, no six-year-old nephew.

Okay, I enjoyed being the mystical spooky Indian most of the time. At least partly. I was only 1/16th Cherokee, but a part of the tribe. According to Cherokee law to be Cherokee, you must be born of a Cherokee to be a member. Elisi was a tribal member even though she was born of an Austrian Jew. Though she was accepted as part of the tribe, we were mother to daughter to me. Any children I had would not be. It's complicated. I saw a man coming over a ridge, backpack and stick for walking. He was about my height, five feet and ten inches, thin, but not skinny, wearing a short-sleeved shirt and jeans, hiking boots and a cap. He stopped when he saw me. And I can only imagine what he thought. Here was a guy, short jet-black hair (all of my family had black hair) in jeans, wearing what looked like a short-sleeved, light beige deerskin shirt, (but it was cotton. Leather in the Summer? Not likely, it was too hot) the fringe at the chest and wearing a single earring that had a miniature feather dangling.

"Come on," I said calmly having expected him. "Elisi has supper waiting."

The man, dust-covered, and hadn't shaved in a day or two looked at me confused. Then looked behind him and saw no one. Then back at me, "You must be expecting someone else."

I shook my head. "No. You're coming off the trail. Just as we were told."

"Told? By who? No one knew I was coming," The man said, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. "I didn't know until a few minutes ago."

I grinned at him. "Trust me." I turned and headed back to the house not looking back. The only thing that told me he was following me were his footsteps on the dusty path.

Now, I really did love this part. People's first impressions of our home because it always blew them away. I held the door open for him to come in and I wasn't disappointed. His eyes grew as he entered. The abundance of polished wood gleamed. The living area had more of a lodge feeling than anything else. The black leather couch was covered with those little pillows, done with Native designs on them. The floor was like almost all the others, a polished wood. The eye-catching part was the many decorations. There were family photos, but there on the mantle of the stone fireplace stood a menorah and a Star of David. Above that were bagpipes covered with the family's Scottish tartan plaid. There were a dream catcher and a few Cherokee items including a native drum. Beside the fireplace, off in a corner was a concert grand piano, open. And you couldn't miss the array of strings across the ceiling.

"Welcome." Elisi greeted the stranger as he entered. "Eric will show you where you can wash up for supper. It'll be ready when you're done." Elisi said to the stranger.

Our guest was even more confused. She looked dark, like a Native American, but... "I'm Brad Thomas." The man came up to shake grandmother's hand. "There seems to be a mistake. Were you expecting someone?"

Elisi chuckled lightly. "No. We weren't really expecting anyone. We just found out you were coming. We are expecting you."

Brad was even more confused. "You mean someone told you I had turned off the trail?"

I nodded with a smile. "You could say that."

His eyebrows came together more. "I didn't see anyone."

I smiled wider. "No one ever does." I patted him on the back. "Are you a killer?"

He looked shocked. "No."

"Are you a thief?" I asked.

"No! I've never stolen anything in my life!"

I nodded. "Good enough for me. I'll take you up. We have enough time for him to shower and clean up, right Elisi?" I asked.

"Sure do," Elisi answered started to go back in the kitchen.

The man stayed where he was. "Wait. I could be lying."

"Not to him," Elisi shook her head and pointed to me. "He would know if you did. And we aren't those things either. So relax."

I took him up to a spare bedroom. I showed him where to put the things he had and left him to do....whatever. He was still sorting what had happened in his mind.

I was waiting on the couch when the man came down. What I'd seen on the path was not what came down. That man was dusty and unshaven. Nice looking, but now this man was clean, shaven, and looked ten years younger than he had before and now very, very good looking. Now he was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. Dark brown hair with lighter stands through his hair that had been lightened by the sun. Chiseled features and an athletic build. He looked like he might be my age or just a little older.

I got up. "My name is Eric Davis. This is my grandmother Carla Sams. We call her Elisi because that's the Cherokee word for grandmother." I explained as a little body was pressing against me not to forget him. "Oh, this is Tyler Davis." And as if a reminder from someone else, a bark. "Sorry, can't forget Barney."

The man nodded. "It's nice to meet you all. I'm just not at all certain that I understand. You were told I was coming? By who?"

"That's going to take some explanation," I nodded knowing what was coming. "And we weren't told." I put a hand on my nephew's shoulder. "He was." I sighed. "Let me explain." Then I shrugged. "You may have a hard time accepting it even after I explain what happens."

"Okay," Brad said hesitantly.

"Certain members of this family were said to have...talents," I said carefully. "One of those talents my nephew seems to have. He can tell when someone's coming. Like you did."

"I still say, it's dangerous. To let people in off the trail? You're isolated. I could be a killer!" Brad argued.

"But you're not. That's why I asked you those questions. Which leads me to the other talent. No one can lie to me."

"No one?" Brad asked having trouble believing me.

"No."

"You read minds?" Brad asked.

"I prefer to say, I read people," I answered. "Elisi says it's more supernatural than I believe, but they can't. You may even lie to yourself, but not me."

"So, you can't see what the truth is, just that it's a lie." Brad was trying to understand. "So, if you were to ask me where I'm from and I give you random names, you can tell when I tell the truth?"

I nodded. "You can test me if you like." I waited patiently as I folded my arms over my chest.

Brad looked like he was still doubting. "Okay. New Jersey."

"That's a lie."

"Massachusetts." Brad offered.

"Lie."

"Ohio." Brad continued.

"Lie."

"New York."

"Partly." I said.

That caused a raised eyebrow from Brad. "Connecticut?"

"Partly," I answered. "I'm gathering you are from both. Born in one and live in another." Then I sensed something else, I got a feeling it was both. "No. You live in both."

Brad nodded. "So, no conman or politician can lie either?"

I shook my head. "Not one."

Elisi came in. "That's why if you go to buy a car, take him." Then she motioned to the dining table. "Come on, suppers ready."

During supper, we chatted. And finally, Brad couldn't wait any longer as his eyes kept looking at them. "What are the strings for?" He pointed to the strings overhead.

I laughed knowing he was bound to ask.

"The house is a piano," Tyler answered proudly.

Brad looked at Tyler closer, "Excuse me?"

"The house is a piano," Tyler replied. "I'll show you." He got up and ran where I knew he was going to go, but Brad did not. I heard him pull the lever and the sound of wood on wood and a clack and then a song began to play softly.

Brad listened and his eyes grew even wider. "Oh, my god," He said. "I know that song. It's the Moonlight Sonata!"

I nodded, impressed he knew it. "Very good."

Brad shrugged. "It's one of Duchess'..." he grinned, "that's what I call my grandmother...one of her favorite pieces."

"We were raised on classical music from before we even conceived. I doubt there's a song we haven't heard." I chuckled.

"But how?" He pointed up at the strings.

"That was my late husband's doing," Elisi explained. "He wanted to do something that would last. He was very good with his hands. So, he created this."

"You didn't see it from your approach, but there's a stream that flows by the house," I explained. "Granddad put an old mill wheel on the side of the house. It turns this large wheel Granddad put there. Tyler's right, the house is a piano, but the wheel that turns those wheels in there is what makes what you hear...a kind of music box. On the wheel are there raised wooden pegs, as it turns it makes some hammers hit the strings. You have the song. It was hard work. He labored on them for years."

Grandmother nodded. "And it had to be just right."

"We only have five of the wheels, but they are complete songs," I explained.

"I saw the piano in there, do you play?" He asked me.

I blushed a little. "I can, but my mother and great-grandmother were the pianists."

Brad looked at my grandmother. "So, your mother and your daughter?" And Elisi nodded. "But you don't play?"

"Elisi is a sculptor. She can paint, mold clay and create wooden statues you'd swear were real." I said proudly. "She has pieces in many galleries all over."

Elisi smiled blushing a little. "He's just being proud. No, my mother was born in Vienna, Austria. She was a prodigy went it came to music at 2. She was doing concerts by 12. At sixteen she was touring Europe in the thirties. She was quite...sensational. Catching the hearts of millions in Europe. And the eye of many men." She waggled her eyebrows.

"Yes, great-grandmother was a vixen." I chuckled knowing the stories.

Elisi laughed lightly. "That's when she met my father. He helped her escape. And she married him. And her talents were passed to my daughter. She was also an accomplished pianist." Grandmother explained.

Brad sat back. "Wow. That explains what I see." He pointed to the living area. "I couldn't understand all the items in there. But it makes sense now." He looked at grandmother. "Are you Jewish?"

"I am Jewish by my mother. She was not a practicing Jew. Or any religion really. I respect the Jewish faith, but I don't follow them." Grandmother said. "Mostly I hold to more Cherokee beliefs about the elements and nature itself."

The song had finished.

"You know what to do," I reminded Tyler.

He nodded sighing from the drudgery. "I know." And he quoted what he knew by heart. "Make sure the wheel is back in place and turn the lever. Because we don't want it to break. I know." He got up and went to do as he knew he was supposed to do.

I smiled as Tyler went to do the task. "You should hear the reactions I get when I tell people on the telephone I need someone to tune my house."

Brad chuckled. "I'm sure."

Elisi gathered her plate. "Well, if you don't mind, help me clear the table." Then she looked at Brad before she got up. "Understand this, Brad. You were guided here for some reason. We don't know what that reason is, but it was strong enough to let my great-grandson know. Whether you believe it or not, he knew you were coming. Stay as long as you like. No one here will judge you or ask you to leave."

I nodded. "And know this. Why you're here is your story to tell. When you're ready...if you ever are ready, you talk, and we will listen. Needless to say, I won't be asking questions, that would give me an idea about what you may not want me to know. If I ever ask you a question you don't want me to know the answer, simply say I'd rather not answer the question and I'll understand." I gathered up my plate and took it in the kitchen.

There was a lot going on in Brad's mind, I could see it on his face, but he was congenial enough and helped with the table and washing the dishes. We did as most people do, we carried on a conversation.

"So, what is it you do?" Brad asked.

"Right now, I just finished school, though I work for the state of North Carolina Department of Forestry a little."

"I would think, with your gift you would do criminal investigations. A simple question and you could tell if a man were guilty or not." Brad reasoned.

I nodded as I rinsed a glass and handed it to Brad to dry. "I thought of that. And with the correct probing questions, I could find out how and why. But somehow that didn't seem to be the direction I should go."

Elisi was putting the dishes away. "I think he would make an excellent Psychiatrist or Physiologist. He could see if someone needed more help. He could get to the truth quicker."

I nodded. "But getting to the truth quicker isn't always the best route."

"My great-grandfather was a mystic. A medicine man. He had the same ability that Eric does. He was often giving advice and counseling to people all the time, often Psychological help." Elisi said.

"As I said, I just got out of school," I said again to her. "I still have time. Right now, I'm needed here."

Brad frowned. "How old are you? If you don't mind answering."

"I'm twenty-five."

Brad nodded. "I thought we might be the same age. I'm twenty-seven."

Later he was looking at the art work and photos. He stopped at one photo and by the dress you knew it was old. "Is this your great-grandmother?"

I looked at the photo of a young woman, trying to look so sophisticated and mature. The long black gown, the long, black-gloved hand holding a long black cigarette holder with the cigarette, looking coyly over her right shoulder at the camera. I grinned at seeing her. "Yep, that's Gertie." You couldn't help but smile. "You'd never guess she was only sixteen at the time."

Brad looked startled. "I would have thought she was older, yes."

I grinned. "She even kissed Hitler on the cheek."

Brad glanced at me quickly. "No way!"

I nodded smiling more. "She did! It was in Berlin. She was attending the Olympic Games as a guest. She had done a concert there that Hitler loved, and he came over saying how he loved her playing. She wrote in her journal she did it on purpose, after all the rumors about what he was doing to the Jews, she did it to spite the man. Being kissed by a Jew."

He laughed. "I can see that." Then he stopped at a polished wooden statue only about a foot high. It was a Native American sitting on horseback. The figure was not rushed but sat calmly looking out...at something. "Wow, this is really good. The details are so clear. Even his eyes!" He looked at me. "She did this?" He thumbed back in Elisi's direction.

I nodded.

"Even the horse! It's so detailed."

"And this isn't even one of her best." I couldn't help bragging.

"You have an interesting family," Brad stated.

"I know."

Elisi stuck her head out of the kitchen. "Does anyone want some hot tea?" She looked at Brad. "It's my paternal great-grandmother's special blend. It'll help you relax and sleep better. It's very good."

Brad looked at me as I nodded, and he turned to Elisi. "Sure."

"It'll just take a few minutes. I'll bring it out on the patio." She pointed out the glass doors.

Out on the patio were lounge chairs we could rest on. The night was getting darker and the air cooling. Not cold, but you could feel the chill. The sound of Tyler and Barney chasing each other were really the only sounds other than the night insects.

"It's very calm here. Peaceful." Brad said with a touch of envy.

"It is." I agreed.

"You're a very lucky man," Brad said.

"I am." I knew.

He sighed. "My father died a few weeks ago."

He was starting to trust us. He was starting to trust me. "I'm sorry."

He felt he should tell me more. "Thanks, but he's not the reason I came out here. It's everything else. I just had to get away to think."

"Well, this is a good place for that," I said. "Forgive me if I don't ask when you need me to. If I ask, I'll figure it out."

Brad nodded with a chuckle. "Right. The no one can lie to me thing."

I grinned at his clearer understanding. "That's it."

"I'll say this," Brad began. "I've always known that one day I'd be in control of...the family business. I was groomed for it. It seemed like my whole life was geared around that fact. But, then Dad dies. He was not an old man, but he was nearly sixty. When he died of the heart attack. I was expected to just step in and take over. I just wasn't ready. I just wanted to get away for a while. That, and there was another pressure." He looked at me. "Am I making sense?"

I sat forward. "Some people have a problem dealing with death. Take Tyler, for instance. His mother, my sister, said just before she left that she couldn't deal with all the death. My father, my mother and then my grandfather. And she left. That was four years ago." I stood as Elisi came out with the tea. "I understand. I just hate that she's missing out knowing her son. He's a great little boy, but we'll keep him safe. You deal with your issues as you see fit. No pressure here."

The next day began as most did. I got up, showered, came down for breakfast and coffee. Then took Tyler to school. When I came back, Brad was in the kitchen dining area drinking coffee with Elisi.

"I was just telling Brad about a delivery I need to have done. I have that statue to deliver to the Biltmore Village Gallery. I was going to ask him if he wanted to go."

"Sure," Brad answered instantly.

"I'll bring the truck down the studio," I said.

Elisi had a studio she worked in. It was really a boathouse we had by the lake. The first floor was where we would house a boat or two, if we had a boat. The second floor was where Elisi did her magic. Again, Brad was astounded at what he saw. It was again, a polished wooden bust of a woman holding a baby to her breast. This one was a little bigger than life size. If the woman were real she would be ten feet tall. But because it was mid-waist up it was transportable.

"This is beautiful!" Brad said in awe, almost afraid to touch it. "So much detail. The eyes, the hair...it almost as if the hair was moving. And the look in her eyes, you can see the love for her baby!"

Elisi smiled. "It's the Madonna and child, only she's Native American."

Brad nodded. "Seriously, this should be in a gallery in Manhattan or Paris."

I chuckled. "She's had several there. Both Manhattan and Paris."

Elisi, as I knew her, didn't like people praising her work too much. "Let's get it securely wrapped. I don't want the finish to be scratched or chipped." Then she glared at me in an unspoken but clear warning. "Or broken."

I kissed her on the cheek. "I never have, and I never will."

She smiled pointing at Brad. "I have a witness. You promised."

Biltmore Village was a prized location in Asheville, North Carolina. George Vanderbilt came to Asheville, loved the area, and wanted to build a house to escape everyday life. And of course, putting up a three bedroom and two-bathroom home wasn't enough. No, he built the huge mansion that was in the record books for years as the largest privately own residence in the world! I don't know that it still is. First, because it's no longer privately owned, nor is it a residence. But it is portrayed as one in several movies since. And Biltmore Village was built to house all the workers and employees that helped build and maintain the mansion. Now, Biltmore Village was again alive as the trendy part of Asheville with shops and galleries. We stopped at one of the first trendy shops to open as a gallery.

The beautiful blonde woman in her early thirties that greeted us and was excited that we arrived and clapped lightly when we unveiled Elisi's work. "It is just breathtaking! Carla Sams' work is highly sought out and prized."

"Of course, it is." I laughed, touching her lightly in the side as I kidded with an old friend.

She laughed as well. "Tell your Elisi she's welcome to show it here anytime. Anything she creates."

"Sure, she profits and most importantly...you profit," I joked.

She shrugged. "That's why we're here." Then she looked at Brad. "And who is this?" She asked pointedly.

I nodded. "Oh, yes. I have manners somewhere." I made a show of sticking my hands in pockets looking for those manners. "I must have left them in the truck. Samantha, this is Brad Thomas. He was hiking on the trail until yesterday. Brad, Samantha Morgan. She owns this gallery with her wife, Nancy."

He had been reaching out to shake her hand. And I noted the almost frozen expression of shock when I mentioned Samantha's wife. But he carried on and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you." But I inwardly rolled my eyes. Please not another homophobe, I thought.

Delivery done and the trip back home.

"She's gay!?" Brad asked because he wasn't believing it.

Here it comes. "Sure," I answered with a shrug. "Why?"

"She's beautiful! She could have any man she wants."

I nodded. "By following your logic...a beautiful woman can't be gay? Is there a look requirement for being gay?"

He blew a breath. "No, but...I don't understand."

My inner spidysense was going crazy. (Sorry for the Spider Man comment. But that's how I explained it to myself.) "You don't understand what? Is being gay because you don't stand a chance with the opposite sex? She became gay because she couldn't get a man? So, she became gay?"

"No," He said.

I nodded. "Do you know any gay people? Besides Samantha now."

He shrugged. "I suppose I could. I just never asked."

My spidysense told me to. "Well, you don't have to ask me. I'll tell you I'm gay."

His reaction was that the news stunned him. "No way. You can't be!"

I felt my eyebrow rise. "I can't? Well, I am. Do we pull over and I prove it to you?" I was reaching something he was keeping secret, and I now had a hunch what it was. Without even asking questions, I was getting a clear answer to a question I hadn't asked. "News flash, gay men and women are everywhere. In every culture, though there are some cultures that deny it like Iran, and we are members of every race. There are gay doctors, gay lawyers, and even gay priests. Just because can't attract a member of the opposite sex, your gay? I don't want a woman. Any more than Samantha would choose a man."

His mouth was open, but nothing came out.

"Say it!" I commanded trying to not get annoyed and angry. "Say what you have to say, otherwise close your mouth."

"You don't act the least bit....gay."

I nodded. "And how is that?"

"You know, prissy and lisp. You don't hold yourself in that gay way."

I laughed as I heard those tired words of ignorance. "The gay way? Because I don't, I can't be gay. We're not all alike, Brad. There are girly ones and butch ones."

"I've never known one," Brad said.

"And you, yourself said you never asked," I said. "Maybe you do. Is there a problem with being gay? Other than it took us forever to have the right to marry whomever we choose?"

Brad was struggling inside his own mind.

Then I dared to ask. "Is that the other reason you're here?"

"What!? Why would you ask that?"

I sighed because I was on the right track. I could feel it. "You must be from a wealthy family. And you're struggling with being gay." It wasn't a question.

His looked worried and began to shake. "I thought you couldn't read minds."

I pulled over and looked at him as I slid around to focus on him. "I don't have to read minds. Here's what I did read. You come here after losing your father, you were wearing clothes that must have just been bought right before you began to hike down. They were all brand new. The shoes were dusty, but the soles haven't been worn down, so I know they were just bought. And none of your outfits was inexpensive. Then you came down wearing jeans that cost $800 or more. The polo shirt was not off the rack. And now you're having trouble with a gay woman and me. Do you want to tell me more? Or do I take you back to the house and you can pack your stuff so you can get away from this fag?"

After a look of surprise and almost terror, he turned away and looked out the window on his side, deep in thought. You could see the struggle he was having; I was not just sensing it. After waiting a few minutes for him to say something, I was about ready to start up the truck again and take him back home. Then he began quietly. "You won't understand." He said sadly and very softly. Then angrily said. "Because I don't understand! I did what I was told. Everything! I went to the school they wanted me to. I went to Mass every Sunday. I went to confession. I even dated the right girl. Then Dad died and I am expected to step in, marry the girl and begin the next generation." He laughed, but it held no humor. "I even slept with her a few times to prove to myself I could do it. I did it all, football, track, hockey. Then when I realized, I felt more in the locker room with the guys than I ever felt for Diana. In fact, sleeping with Diana turned my stomach. I just figured it was because I broke the rules and did it out of marriage. I just feel....stupid."

I frowned at his truthful confession and asked quietly. "Why stupid?"

He waved his hand and shrugged but didn't look at me. "You're telling me things like it should be clear and understood by me. Like me not understanding why a beautiful woman can be gay. Why I didn't believe you were gay. In my heart, I know what you're saying is true, but my head keeps saying no. That's stupid."

I touched him on the shoulder to make him look at me. I didn't want to touch him more as he might not be able to take being touched by a man that he himself had told him was gay. "You're far from stupid," I said as he turned. His face was wet, this was a really hard moment for the man. I felt a pain of sympathy for him. "It sounds more like a trust thing. You trusted that those that were supposed to tell you the truth. And you believed it was."

He looked at me seriously. "Well, isn't that what they're supposed to do? Our parents, the church? Aren't they supposed to tell us the truth?"

I smiled at him. "The problem with that logic is, we're talking about humans. Humans make mistakes. They will lie. Not because they're evil, but they were also told a lie and just passed it on."

Brad nodded. "Okay. Let me ask this. If a priest tells you, you're going to hell because you're gay. Is that a lie?"

I nodded. "Definitely as they believe it to be true. A taught truth can't stand against the real truth. And there are truths as in hard evidence and truths that are perceptive. Evidence? There is none."

"Ask me if there is God," Brad said.

I grinned. "Is there a God?"

"Yes." He answered. "Am I telling the truth?"

"That's a perceptive truth," I answered. This was going to be hard to explain, so I needed to be clear. "There is no hard evidence. You believe it's true. Nothing can be shown to prove it one way or the other. It's more of an idea."

"Do you believe in God?" He asked.

I nodded readily. "Absolutely." I turned more so I could look at him more directly. I pointed at the sky. "I ask, is the sky blue?"

"Yes." Brad nodded.

"And I receive that as true for you, but it isn't." I grinned at his confusion. "I receive it as a perceptive truth. You see blue, so the sky looks blue. But it isn't really blue. It's water vapor and a reaction to the light of the sun coming through that makes the sky look blue when it's really clear." I tapped him. "What sort of school did you go to? But there are several kinds of truth. Evidential, perceptive, and ideal. I didn't want to tell Elisi that I didn't want to do psychology because there are other truths."

"Like what?"

"Well, I took several psychology courses and sat with in a therapy session, and it was a simple did you or didn't you situation. So, when she answered questions I got a whole lot of answers. But there was one person sitting there. Why? She had multiple personalities. The doctor told us she had four personalities. I wasn't going to tell him I had five answers." I grinned as Brad smiled.

He nodded. "I can see that as a problem."

I nodded. "To say the least. Sure, I got that one, but it took me a few tries to get to where I understood the differences." I tapped my head. "If I asked you if the world was flat. What would you say?"

"No."

I nodded. "Why?"

Brad shrugged. "I've seen the globe. Pictures from space. The world is round."

"But if I'd asked you that question a thousand years ago, it would have been a perceptive answer. Not the evidential truth I got now. Do you understand a bit better?"

"Yes."

"What I'm saying is, you ask me about whether there is a God. You said yes. That is an ideal truth. Meaning the truth is what you believe in, the idea of God." I shook my head. "I don't have clear answers except when it comes to did you or didn't you. Like I asked you about New York. It took years to learn that what I heard as true was only partly true. That you lived in both." I sighed. "I can't give more insight but to say. Is being gay a sin? I can't answer that. You have to decide. Is it right for you? I can't answer that question about you going to hell or not because you're gay. I don't believe I am."

Brad nodded. "Okay. I get it better now, but how can I go home now? I can't marry Diana."

I gave a shrugging nod. "Well, that's not quite true. It's coming in as a partial lie."

"How?" Brad asked.

"I don't need my gift to answer that. You were the one that said it. You said you slept with her a few times. You've proven you can marry her, but clearly, you don't want to." I pointed out.

"And if took those vows, I'd be lying to her!"

I nodded, patting his arm. "I know, but you've already done that to her, and you proved to yourself you could. When you told her you liked her enough to get her to sleep with you again. That was a lie."

"I didn't mean to."

"Not the first time, maybe, but not the second and third times." I held up my hand as he was about to object. "Stop. The second time, didn't you say to yourself you didn't want to do it?"

He slumped down. "Yes." He admitted softly.

I nodded. "Believe me. When it's the right person you know it. You can feel it, in here." I tapped my chest above my heart.

He looked doubtful. "So, you've had sex....with men?"

I gave him a smirk. "That's what being gay means, Numbnuts." I grinned. "Now I'm no Don Juan. But sure, I've had two boyfriends. And a few circle jerks as a younger guy."

Brad looked more doubtful. "You all jerked off together."

I nodded. "And I've jerked them off."

"How did it feel?" He asked. "To touch another guy's dick?"

I looked at him curiously. "You've never touched another guy's cock?"

He shook his head. "No!"

"Have you ever kissed a guy?" I asked. Then held my hand up. "Remember, if you don't want to answer just say that. When you answer, I'll know the truth."

He shook his head. "No. I've never kissed a guy."

"Do you believe it you do; you'll go to Hell?"

He struggled with that one. "I don't know."

I didn't want to take him where he was not comfortable. "Would you like to? Kiss me?"

Now he really was shaking. "I...I don't...know."

"It's okay." I narrowed my eyes. "Yes, you do know. Am I not attractive to you?"

"I think you're very attractive."

I knew what he said was true. "We can make it really simple. You can even close your eyes if it'll help."

His eyes closed and I touched his face gently. Then like a butterfly lands on a flower, I lightly touched my lips to his. His breathing increased. His arms reached and didn't quite touch me. I gently kissed him. And not that I was that surprised, he began to kiss back. His tongue was the one touching my lips. I parted them to let what he wanted to do, happen. Then he was as I expected, hungry, starving as a man who is told there is only one dish to eat, then finding out there are other delicious food and after trying one bite, becomes ravenous about it. He began kissing harder and with more desire. He said he never kissed a guy before, but he was good! I finally pulled the brakes and pulled away from him.

He was still searching a moment, then opened his eyes. "Why'd you stop?"

I chuckled. "There are a number of reasons. The first being that this is the first time you've kissed a man and I don't want to start something we can't stop. And the next being, we're just off the side of the highway. I don't want to give passersby a show on the side of the road." I grinned.

He chuckled. "I suppose not." He nodded. "Did I do okay?"

"That was...pretty hot," I nodded but looking at him. "You are gay. I can see it in your body. The crotch of your pants is straining now." I pointed to the bulge that formed there. "Your breathing increased while we were kissing. And I don't want to do anything you'd have to go to confession about. A kiss is one thing. Any more and we'd both may have to go to confession." He was chuckling, but his face said he was still struggling. "I am so sorry you're going through this."

He smiled a little tightly. "You probably think I'm being silly."

I looked at him gravely and I said softly with grave seriousness. "Your world has crumbled around you. A life you were guided to, taught how to think and what to do....you find out you not only don't want but can't do. You trusted the people put in charge of guiding you to do what's best were telling you the truth. You did what you were supposed to, you followed the rules. Then when you were being told to take that life, that's when you find out it was wrong at least for you. Are you being silly? Absolutely not, but I was being careful not to touch you more than you were ready for. Feelings could develop."

Brad smiled. "You're worried that I might fall in love with you?"

I shook my head. "I'm worried that I could fall in love with you." I grinned at him. "I see a good man. A kind man. I've only known you for less than twenty-four hours. If I let myself, I could easily fall in love."

"Really?" He asked like he didn't quite believe I could.

"Absolutely." I pointed at him. "First, as a male...the hunter we men were taught to see things. Use our eyes...for generations of evolution, we were guided to use visual perception. What I see is very appealing. You are to me, a very beautiful man. Handsome. And you're strong. I can see in you the makings of a great life partner."

"So, you don't just....have sex," Brad said.

I shook my head. "I have, but no, that's not what I want. I am looking for that best friend. Passion should be there and love. But I would like that person in my life where we grow old together." I smiled. "Not just for what happens in a few minutes or an hour."

He smiled. "And you see that in me?"

I laughed and held up my hand. "Whoa there. I said I see the makings of a great life partner. Whether you are or not depends on you. I'd like to know you first. I don't even know your type. If you even know what that is yet."

He sighed and nodded.

"Let's take it slow. If you're still interested later, okay." I did touch him on the chest above his heart and spoke softer to him. "You've awakened in an alien world, Brad. You weren't given instructions about this life or what to do. I'm okay with doing some simple things with you, but if and when we decide to become more serious. I need to know who it is I'm giving myself to, and he needs to know who he's giving himself to. Understand?"

That's when my cellphone rang startling both of us.

"It's Elisi," I told Brad. "Hi," I said into the phone. She asked where we were. "Just outside Franklin on I-40," I answered. She was surprised why we weren't closer. "Well, Brad and I sort of got to talking. We'll be on the way again in a minute." Then she asked me to pick something up from the store. "Will do. Be home shortly." I disconnected. "She needs some things from the grocery store for dinner. We'll also need to pick Tyler up from school. Do you mind?"

He shook his head. "No. Of course not. Get, pick up, whatever's needed." He looked at me seriously. "Does she know....you're gay?"

I nodded. "Certainly. In fact, she was upset when Tony and I broke up. She really liked him." I chuckled at the memory of Tony.

"And she's okay with it?"

"Sure," I said putting the truck in drive. "I am. Whether or not she would or wouldn't be okay with it is moot. But I think she knew before I did."

"Really? So, what happened with Tony?"

I chuckled. "He was a great guy, likable, funny and very loving, but he wasn't ready to settle down. In fact, I think he liked being able to see any and every one; he became interested in. So, we agreed to part. We're still good friends. No benefits, though." I chuckled. "So, you would be my second New Yorker if we became a couple. He's an Italian from Queens." I said and pulled out on the highway. "Mister right is somewhere. I just need to find him. That goes for you, too. The right person is out there. If you choose to continue."

"If I don't?"

I shrugged. "Then you will be in conflict, but you already know that."

"Yeah." He said sadly.

When the bell rang at Tyler's school, the sudden blast of noise and chaos came again. Tyler's smiling face brightened even more when he saw Brad.

"Hi, Uncle Eric! Hi, Brad!"

"Hi, Tyler." Brad greeted as I scooped Tyler up.

"We had a delivery for Elisi. Barney is still at home." I said.

Tyler shrugged. "Okay."

Once home again, Elisi got what she needed and began getting ready for dinner. Tyler went out to play with Barney. I looked at Brad.

"We have a little while," I needed to be careful with what I was about to propose. "Do you want to go to my room? Perhaps do a little of the simple things I mentioned?"

He looked surprised but answered immediately. "Sure."

I smiled with a nod. "Don't look so terrified. Nothing kinky and I'll enjoy it, too. Come on." I took his hand.

My room had the things a man of my age has. The stereo, a desk with a computer and a queen-sized bed. I closed the door and looked at a very nervous man. I smiled at him.

"In your dreams, is there something you dreamt of doing?" I asked and watched his ears pink. "Let's start with. You've seen a naked man before, but have you looked?"

"I don't dare."

I nodded. I was in good shape, so I wasn't afraid of showing my body. "I'm giving you permission to dare." I went and got a towel for the bed. "In case we cum on the bed. If we do make a mess, more than just a little, don't worry about it. It will wash." I started to unbutton my shirt and I looked as Brad hesitantly reached up for his. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. Even undressing. You'll see that I'm just a guy. We have the same things. Only now if you get a hardon when you look or touch, it's okay. Understand?" I asked as I slipped the shirt off and kicked my shoes off. Then shrugged. "You will." Then the socks and pants came off. I left the underwear on. "Would you like to do this?" I held out the waistband. He nodded and walked over and slipped the underwear down, but I saw his averted eyes. "Look at me, Brad." His eyes came to me. "I mean look at my cock. It's okay." I urged him putting my hand on his face. I watched as his eyes lowered and he did what I asked. Then he reached out and gently touched my cock. "See? It's fine. I want you to enjoy it. Like what you see." Then his hands were over me. He did feel my cock to full erection and his hands didn't stop there. His fingers were in my pubes and running over my chest, stomach, and arms. Then his face got near my face but stopped. "If you want to kiss me, that's fine also, but know you will begin to feel. It's what makes us human. We bond that way. So, we will begin to bond." He nodded and kissed me again. Only he didn't pull back. He was a man dying of thirst finally getting a drink and could not stop. As clinical as it may sound, I was feeling it too. He was a very attractive man. His warmth I could feel in his touch and as we kissed, arms were going around each other and I felt the warmth of his heated body. My hands could feel the firmness of his muscles. Then he stepped back and almost ripped his shirt off, then kicking his shoes off, he yanked the socks and couldn't get the pants off quick enough. Then he was back, kissing me again, arms around me pulling me to him. The erection I had was colliding with his. And he did have a raging hardon! He was a beautiful man. I lowered us both onto the bed. Who would have guessed the man from the trail was going to be naked on my bed with me? I began gently caressing the hot firmness of his erection that wasn't giving up, in fact, it seemed to get even harder, if that were possible. Then, and I was ready for it, hot fluid shot out of his dick in waves. One, two and three spurts of hot cum. But we were in our twenties, then I did too. It didn't just stop because we'd cum. He came, but he didn't soften much. In a few minutes, he was back firm and erect again. And we did it again.

He lay back gasping for air he needed. His eyes closed as he shook his head. "I have never..." he gasped, "experienced any...thing like that."

I chuckled as I used the towel to clean us up. My cum was on him as well. "It was pretty awesome," I agreed, "Could it be that the reason is because it's hooked up to send messages to our pleasure centers in our brains, maybe to encourage us to do it?"

He chuckled as I felt his arm go around me. "Yeah, that's it." Then he looked at me. "You're a handsome man, Eric. I love you."

Okay, my spidysense was telling me he was telling the truth, but I knew, in the aftermath of sex, we often feel more than what we will later. I nodded. "And I love you." That was also true. We had only known each other a day. I knew that passion and lust make you feel and say things that time would say different. "Did it feel right?"

Brad nodded. "Oh, yes. Very much so. If I weren't so tired, we could have kept going."

I kissed him gently. "And we haven't even had sex, yet."

Brad frowned. "I know there's more, but...having a guy stick his pecker up a guy's ass? Does it hurt? Will it stink? We haven't sucked each other's dicks. This was more of an elaborate hand job."

"Hey, don't knock it. That was pretty intense. And I'm glad you've gotten comfortable with me. Your language has relaxed at least."

He looked confused. "My language?"

"What is this?" I touched my dick, then his.

"A dick. A cock. There are many names for it." Brad said.

"And what we just did, you called a hand job. Before you couldn't even say those things comfortably." I grinned. "Tell me, did you jerk off? Do you?"

He rolled his eyes. "I did and do, but alone."

The grin I couldn't help. "Did the Blessed Mother cry? Or maybe that's why you're gay."

He chuckled. "Where'd you hear about that?"

"I dated a few Catholics. Tony was one." I answered.

"Well, that was for the girls if their skirts were too short. That made the Blessed Mother cry." Brad chuckled.

"He taught me a lot about what you were and weren't to do." I was feeling a lot more with him, and he was feeling comfortable with me. "I won't rush you. If you're comfortable enough with me. Maybe you can move your things in here. If you want?"

Brad smiled. "Move into your room? But they'll know. You're grandmother and Tyler."

I shrugged. "You think she doesn't know what we're doing now?" Then I changed the subjects. "To answer your question. Does it hurt? It will at first. Will it stink? It can if you don't prepare. So far as blowjobs are concerned, they can be sweet, but if you've never given one, you can feel like you're about to choke. It takes practice. When you're ready for one. Giving, I mean. When you're ready I'll even go to the doctor for you."

"The doctor?"

I looked in his brown eyes. "If we do this, or more, you need to trust me. In order to do that, you have to know I won't pass anything to you. No gonorrhea or chlamydia or HIV. I'm clean. Have you been tested for those things?"

He looked surprised. "No. But I can't have them. I've only had sex with Diana, and that was with a condom. She's never sucked my dick."

I grinned. "I have that gift, remember. I know you're telling me the truth. I can say it, but you don't have my gift. I'm will do what I can to prove it's true for you."

That really moved him somehow. "You're willing to do that? For me?"

I nodded. "Sure. I'll go to whomever you say. And it's too late." Then I shook my head. "I'm already feeling things for you. So, I'll do whatever I need to." Then I got up and reached for him. "But for now, we need a shower. I'll get your bag from the other room and bring your clothes after we've showered and cleaned up. I'll dress first and get them. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Your grandmother is making dinner." He got up and followed me to the bathroom.

I had body hair, mostly around my penis, a little around my scrotum and some on the edges of my nipples and under my armpits. Brad had more. I've seen some very hairy men, but that wasn't Brad. His chest hair was dusted across his chest, and he had what we called a goody trail from his navel that joined his pubes, which thank god weren't shaved. Shaved or manscaped pubes were a big turn off for me. And yes, we showered together, which made things hard again. I mean, we both had hard-ons. No big deal. Washing each other just made sense. When we got out and came into the bedroom, Brad froze seeing his bag in the room.

"You never went to get the bag," Brad said.

I smiled. "Elisi probably brought it." I saw his growing panic. "Stop," I said raising my hand and placed it on his chest. "She probably came up to tell us dinner was ready, heard the shower, knocked and when no one answered, she peeked in. She's not stupid. I said she knew what we were doing up here. She brought the clothes in here for you. No big deal."

"No big deal," He shook his head. "It would be at home." He sighed sitting down and continued to towel dry his hair.

I walked over to him. "If you decide to stay with me when you're done with...." I waved all around. "...this. I'll be there. Whatever you decide to do. I'll support you. If you decide to go back to Diana..."

He let out a short laugh, "That's not gonna happen."

I knelt in front of him. "Whatever you decide. Elisi's on your side. So am I." I kissed him gently. Now his kisses were longer, more passionate. And as I said before, he was good at it.

Brad nodded. "Thanks."