The Professor and Sean

BOOK TWO

The Professor and Sean - Book Two - Part 4

by Scotty

Disclaimer:

This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The characters in this story do not always practice safe sex. Remember this is fiction. You should always use a condom for the your protection and especially for the protection of the one you love. The author recommends only safe sex. Be wise and follow safe sex practices.

Several songs are quoted in this story. The copyrights to these are held by the artists or their publishers and not by the author. They are quoted as a tribute to the artist and the piece.

All persons in this story are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

The author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.

All other disclaimers apply.

We all find treasure in the strangest places; it is the wonder of being alive.

Scotty

Thanks to the individuals who have emailed me to tell me they are enjoying the story. It is great to hear from you. I try to answer all of you; but if you have to wait a day or two, it is because I just can't keep up with the emails.

There's more story to come.

The marked improvement in the punctuation and spelling is because of the intelligent and careful assistance I have received from Wayne. This wonderful man is my editor, I thank him here publicly. As Sean would say, "He is awesome!"

NOTE: If you would like to know when I am posting the next part of the story, send me an email requesting that I notify you when I post to Nifty.

The Professor and Sean - Book 2 - Part 32

From the ending of Part 31

Nothing we said or did was consoling to him. The doorbell rang and when Greg answered he found an almost hysterical Cathy and Janet. They wanted to help, but even with the four of us, close friends and confidantes, nothing seemed to help Sean. He was devastated, demolished, cruelly crushed by the unthinkable.

He needed to go to the bathroom, and went down the hall to the powder room off the entry. We all went into the kitchen, not knowing what to do. I started to brew a pot of coffee. Greg was trying to find cookies or crackers, and Cathy and Janet simply slumped in their chairs; red-eyed, disbelief etched on their faces.

After a bit, I wondered what was taking Sean so long. I left the kitchen and went to the powder room. I knocked on the door. There was no answer. I opened the door.

Sean was gone! --------------------

The Professor and Sean, Book 2 - Part 32

(Ryan narrates)

The meeting with the executive committee had been useful to me as it laid out my responsibilities and gave me a clear picture of what the next year would be like for me. I had been honored by the appointment, but I also didn't want to be away from the family and so indicated that to the executive committee. I was assured that I would only have to appear at the next national meeting and, as fate would have it, Boston had been selected as the site.

I had no trouble getting to the airport, but I was just a little late and so I had no time to call home, but I would do that from the plane. There was a lot of chatter about a plane crash, but I had no time to chat. After I boarded, I found my seat, which was next to a gentleman who was on a business trip. We exchanged `hellos' and settled down while the plane prepared for takeoff. Soon we were aloft and had reached cruising altitude. My row mate introduced himself,

"My name is Amos Tenet. I sell college textbooks and was just at the conference of college English professors. You look very familiar. Didn't you present a paper on Shakespeare at yesterday's evening session?"

"Yes, I did. My name is Ryan Taylor. Unfortunately, I didn't get out to the book exhibits. Actually this is one of only a few of these meetings that I have been to in my career."

"I heard some muttering about your appointment as president of the group. Seems some of your colleagues didn't think you deserved it."

"I think they're right. I know my paper had a strong influence on the committee. My appointment's only a year, so I'll do my best," I said.

"Did you hear the chatter in the airport?"

"I did, what was that all about?" I inquired.

`There was a plane crash. Everyone was lost."

"Oh, my God, that's terrible," I said.

"Same airline as this, InterFlight 355 to Boston."

"What did you say?" I demanded, grabbing him by his lapels, and without knowing it, shaking him.

"What the hell did you say?"

"Take it easy, guy. It was InterFlight 355 to Boston."

I exploded with concern. I pushed the call button, and after what seemed like a lifetime with attendant showed up.

"Please verify for me that it was InterFlight 355 that went down and all were lost. Is that true?"

"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, it is true."

"I was supposed to be on that flight. My God, my family is going to think that I'm dead. This can't be. It can't be. I need to call them."

"Use the phone right in front of you, sir," said the attendant as she left.

I grabbed the phone and tried to use it before I noticed that I needed my charge card. I tried to find mine, but I couldn't. Tears were running down my face and I was near hysteria. Amos noticed this, and without my asking, handed me his charge card. I did the business through tear-filled eyes, dialed Rog's number and waited.

"Hello, Rog Fillimore and Greg Raymond's residence."

"Rog, don't faint or anything. It's me, Ryan. I wasn't on that flight. I'm fine. I tried you earlier, but no one answered and the machine wasn't working."

"Thank God you're okay." He yelled out to whomever,

"It's Ryan. He wasn't on that flight." There was screaming and yelling.

"Let me speak with Sean, right now. I need to let him know that I'm okay. Please call him to the phone." There was a long silence, and then Rog spoke in a voice charged with emotion,

"Sean isn't here. We don't know where he is. We've called the police. They are starting a search. We..."

"Get to the townhouse right now. Check in the bedroom. There's a metal box at the back of my closet. See if it's there and if there is a pistol in it. The key is in the pocket of my black suit. Do it now. My God, hurry! I'll call the townhouse now, and then again in five minutes. Please hurry." I hung up.

I could feel my world crumbling around me. God, don't let him do anything foolish.

(Rog narrates)

When the phone rang, I thought it would be the police calling to tell us something about Sean. But, my God, it was Ryan. He hadn't been on the plane that crashed. I told everyone here and there was a lot of shouting and crying.

Ryan wanted me to go directly to the townhouse and check out a pistol that he had locked in a box in his closet. I told Greg, and we left together for the townhouse. Luckily, we had a key, which we had been given a long time ago, so that we could check on the place if they were away.

I had to caution Greg to slow down and drive a little more carefully, but he ignored me. We arrived at the townhouse in minutes and rushed to the door, unlocked it, and were in the bedroom seconds later. There was no need to look for the box, as it was lying on the floor empty. I couldn't breathe for fear that Sean had done something so terrible that I couldn't imagine. From the look on Greg's face, I knew he feared the same thing. Lying on the bed was a sheet of paper on which Sean had written something.

I picked it up and read it aloud,

"I don't think I can go on without Ry. But I have a big responsibility to care for the boys now. I don't know what to do? I need to think. I need to be alone. I'm going to Vermont to the old cabin. Please don't bother me. I will work this out. The memories of the cabin will help bring me where I will need to go. I love you all. Sean."

Greg voiced my fear when he asked me,

"Do you think he'll shoot himself?"

Thank God, before I could answer that, the phone rang. It was a near-hysterical Ryan. I told him about the gun missing and I could hear him choke back sobs. Then I read him the letter.

The line got so quiet it was spooky; then rejuvenated by the need to take charge, Ryan, in a rational if not always unemotional way, told us what to do. He listed them off:

1. Arrange for a helicopter to pick him up at Logan to shuttle him to the Inn where he wanted Dan to pick him up.

2. Tell Dan not to go to the cabin as it might set Sean off. Leave him alone.

3. Call Mom and Dad and let them know what's going on.

4. If Sean should call Dan, ask Dan not to say anything about my possible death. Ask him to avoid any mention of it.

5. I may need your support in Vermont. Please arrange somehow to get there.

6. Ask everyone to pray for Sean and for me. Let Sister Mary know what's going on. Emily should be told, as should Father O'Rourke.

"Rog, I'm in tough shape right now. I am trying to hold it all together, but I fear the worse. I don't..." he couldn't go on as his sobbing overtook him. He hung up.

I was in tears now, and after telling Greg about the conversation, we were both distraught because now Ry feared as we did, that Sean might do himself harm.

We began immediately to do as Ry had asked. It was going to be difficult, especially explaining what was happening to Ellen and Gerry.

If there were ever two people who didn't need this crisis in their lives it was Ryan and Sean. But life doesn't always treat the best people in the best way.

I prayed silently that everything would be all right.

(Sean narrates)

I had a great day at State. My examination in geography had been a cinch! I spent some time with Jerrod in the Student Union. He was filled with stories of his life with Blake and how happy he was. It was obvious that he was happy, much happier than he had been with Kevin. He sensed that I was a little less jolly than usual. I told him Ry was away at a meeting, and he apologized for going on so much about how happy he was with Blake.

I told him I enjoyed hearing about his life with Blake. He also spoke a great deal about the convocation and what a wonderful thing it was that I had done to honor Ry. He thought, as did Blake, that I really deserved the honorary degree.

It was nearing lunch when Blake showed up. He and Jerrod were going out to lunch at Ranaldi's. They wanted me to go with them, but I excused myself saying that I had to get back to Rog's because we would be leaving to go pick up Ry in Boston. They both acknowledged that that was more important than lunch. We parted ways and I drove to Rog and Greg's, already anxious to get Ry and bring him home.

The door was unlocked, as I assumed it would be, since both their cars were in the driveway. I could hear them talking up in their bedroom. I flicked on the television and went into the kitchen for a cold drink. While I was there, I heard the newscaster mention a special report. I went back into the family room and stopped and to listen.

There had been a plane crash and all aboard were lost. I couldn't imagine how I would react to that news if it had been Ry's plane. Then I stopped to listen as they were about to announce the flight.

"InterFlight Airlines has just released the flight number and destination. It was InterFlight 355 from Denver to Boston. For a split second it didn't register. Then it hit me! I screamed so loud the lamp shook. I dropped my soda and fell to my knees before the television set. I couldn't breathe; I wept for my lost love, for my husband, for the father of our children, and for myself. Rog and Greg were with me on the floor. They heard the announcement again, and they, too, knew the awful truth. Ryan was dead! They tried to calm me down, and then suddenly everything was black and quiet.

I awoke on the sofa, at first unable to determine where I was. In a heartbeat, the truth hit me again. I couldn't stop sobbing. I cried out for Ry. I cursed God! I was pulling on my hair, but Greg grabbed my hands and held them. Then Cathy and Janet arrived and there was much weeping and consoling. In a bit, I formulated a plan in my mind. I told them I needed to use the bathroom. I went down the hall to the powder room, which was adjacent to the entry door. I closed the door, but then opened it barely a crack to listen. They had left the family room and were in the kitchen. I quietly left the bathroom and slipped out of the house to my car. I drove like a mad man to our townhouse.

My plan was clear. I went directly to the bedroom and to Ry's closet. I got the key from our hiding place, pulled the metal box out of its place at the back of the closet, took it to the bed, set it down, unlocked it, and sat starring at the pistol that lay inside the box. I was almost crazy with grief. How could God do this to us? We were about to start our family. Why? But there were no answers.

Everywhere I looked in the townhouse, I saw Ry. Everything I touched, I felt Ry. Everything I smelled was Ry's scent. I left the gun where it was and went to the study where I wrote a note. I was going to Vermont and I wanted to be left alone. I knew that Rog and Greg would soon be here. I had to go. I took the note to the bedroom and put it on the bed. I grabbed my gym bag and threw in a few pieces of clothing.

I called Dan, with as much control as I could muster, and asked him to be sure that the old cabin was okay for a visit. He told me it was ready, but hand no phone due to construction of the new cabin. He asked when we were coming and I lied to him and said we hadn't decided, but we would let him know. I said a quick goodbye.

I took the gun and some cartridges and put them in the gym bag. I knew I needed some time, so I took the bag, set the alarm, and hurried to the Rover. I put my bag in the front seat and drove the Rover to the far side of the townhouse development away from our unit. I ran back and got the Toyota and moved it over next to the Rover. Then I got in the Rover and sped away toward Vermont. I had to wipe my eyes occasionally as I was crying and having difficulty seeing.

After what seemed like an eternity, I drove down the long drive and parked. The workmen were not there, probably because their day was over. I hardly noticed the new place since I was intent in getting to the old cabin. I unlocked the door, and ran to the bedroom, throwing my bag on the floor and myself on the bed, where I lost it completely. It was the worst feeling I had ever had, and an emptiness too deep to comprehend, a loss so intense that my heart was in danger of stopping. I don't know how long I lay there, but I finally got up and looked out. Day was waning.

I took the pistol from the bag and inserted the cartridges. I went to the living room, placed a Chopin CD on the player and selected Track 5, which was "Fantaisie-Impromtu in C sharp minor, Op. 66". Then I got out Neil Diamond's CD, found "The Story of My Life", and put it on repeat. "Fantaisie" had been the piece I played for Ryan at my birthday party, and "Story" was our song. I pushed the start button and, carrying the pistol, I went out and sat on the steps, placing the gun on the step beside me. It wouldn't be long before the sun would be setting. The music was interrupted by a helicopter flying over, and although I wondered about it for a fleeting second, my mind soon returned to Ry.

"Ry, I know you can hear me. You're with my mother and father. All three of you are looking down on me, wishing you could make the hurt go away, but you can't. Mom and Dad, this is not how I wanted things to end, but I can't go on. I just can't.

"Ry, Hon, I know you understand. Without you, I am an empty shell, a bell without a clapper, a sun without light, a fire without warmth. You are the one in my short life who loved me for what I am. I need to be with you. I have to be with you. Jacob, Ethan, and Zachary will be well taken care of by Mom and Dad, and Rog and Greg. We can watch them as they grow, and we can greet all our family and friends when it is their time.

"I can't think of any way out of this, Ry. I know if you were here, you would raise hell with me, refusing to let me do anything as stupid as what I am about to do. But you were taken from me, and so I have decided to join you."

I reached for the pistol and started to lift it to my head, the lyrics of our song ringing loudly in the background, the sun turning the sky brilliant pinks and oranges.

It was time.

(Greg narrates)

The task that Ryan had given to Rog and me was daunting. We called Dan first and he was distraught when we told him what was happening. He wanted to rush to the cabin, but we warned him not to go. Ryan had asked that he not go for fear it might set Sean off. He was to meet Ryan at the Inn to take him to the cabin. It should be around four thirty, but he should be there early and wait so that Ry would not have to wait.

Just the thought of the call to Ellen and Gerry left me cold. How could you reasonably tell them the situation as we now knew it and then the possibility that Sean might do harm to himself. I left it to Rog to make that call.

As he dialed their number, I could see that Rog was still very upset by what could possibly happen. After all, he thought of Sean as a son, as a remarkable student, and as a dear friend. When I thought of this, I told him I would do the talking. He gladly let me. Thank God, Charles answered the phone. I told him briefly what was happening and asked to speak with Gerry. I could tell from the tenor of his voice that he was close to tears, but I knew that he would pull it together as a trained servant would, and not upset Gerry prematurely.

After a few moments, Gerry answered the phone,

"Hi, Greg. Good of you to call us. How's everything going up there? Is Ryan back from Denver yet?"

"Gerry, I have some good news and some upsetting news to give to you. Ryan is not yet home, but will be arriving in Boston in a short time. What happened was this."

I proceeded to share the events with him. When I told him about our fear that Ryan had been lost in the crash, I could hear him take a deep intake of breath. I waited for a bit, and then continued about Sean; and about Ryan's and our fear that he might harm himself. Now there were stifled sobs on the other end of the line. I heard him clear his throat, and then he said,

"Ellen and I will be on a plane to Keene in a half hour. Have a limo meet us at the airport to take us to the cabin. Hurry and do it. I have to tell Ellen about this now, and my good God, it is going to be difficult. Thanks for letting us know. Goodbye."

The line now dead. I looked at my partner of many years and saw in his face such sadness that I lost it and tears ran down my cheeks. We were in each other's arms trying to soothe the overpowering fear we both harbored in our souls. Once we had gotten control, we proceeded to attend to all the other things Ryan and his Dad had asked us to do.

We had no problem arranging for the limo at the airport in Keene, but when we tried to get a helicopter to shuttle Ryan from Logan to the Inn in Vermont, we ran into obstacles, which we failed to overcome. Rog was beside himself, blaming himself if anything happened to Sean because he was unable to arrange the helicopter. Finally, I decided that it would take a little of the right kind of muscle to get the helicopter,

I called back to Gerry Taylor in Florida. Luckily I caught him just before they were to leave for the airport to fly to Keene. I told him our dilemma. He told me to sit tight for a few minutes and that he would get back to us. We both paced the floor waiting. Finally the phone rang and Rog hurried to answer it. It was Gerry who told us that everything was arranged and gave us all the details so that Ryan would know what to do. Someone would meet him as he exited the plane with a sign with his name on it. They would take care of everything and the helicopter would be fueled and waiting.

But how could we get the details to Ryan. Rog, ever the sharp one, called InterFlight Airlines. Luckily he was connected to a reasonable young lady who, when she heard the whole story, said she would arrange to get the message to Ryan. They would contact the pilot of the flight by radio with the message and the background and he would get the message to Ryan. Rog thanked her again and again.

We decided to call Jer and Blake. Jer was Sean's best college friend. We thought he should know what was happening. I talked first with Blake and then with Jer. Blake listened intently, offering little comment. When I finished, he told me Jer would take this very hard, and did I want to tell him or would he rather that I let him tell. Rog punched me and told me we should tell Jer. It wasn't fair to give this responsibility to Blake. Blake called Jer to the phone.

I had only got partly through the story, but when I told him our fears about Sean, he broke down. He cried out,

"What the fuck is being done about this. You can't let him do anything like Kevin did. You can't. Why does all this shit happen to such good people. Please Greg, please, do something.

He was freely weeping now, and I could hear Blake in the background, comforting him. When he finally quieted down, I told him the plan and he felt better. But he insisted that he and Blake wanted to go with us to Vermont. We agreed and told them to come to the house.

Father O'Rourke took the news badly. But being a holy man, he said he would pray for Sean and Ryan, and he knew in his soul that God would not let them down.

It was not so easy with Emily. When we related the fear about Sean, she fainted. We know because a nurse informed us after the silence on the line lasted quite a while. She was revived, but chose not to speak to us again until we could tell her that Sean was okay.

Sister Mary immediately worried about the boys. We didn't think she should tell them anything. Depending on what happened, Ryan would decide how to handle it. She agreed and said she and the other nuns would begin praying immediately that Sean would be safe.

(Ellen narrates)

I was an emotional mess after Gerry told me about Ryan and Sean. I couldn't believe it. How could such terrible things happen to such loving men? It didn't seem fair, and it took all my faith to help me accept God's will. Gerry wasn't as accepting of it all as I was.

He complained that God should find some of the crazies in the world and set upon them calamity and unhappiness. Why should Ryan and Sean have to suffer again? Hadn't they just adopted a family? Weren't they willing to give all of themselves to the boys? Why should such horrible suffering being visited upon them? He couldn't understand, and unfortunately at the moment I think he blamed God.

I would have tried to reason with him, but I knew in the awful circumstances we were dealing with that it would be useless. Better to let him cool down, think carefully and arrive at the point where his faith would also help him understand that it wasn't God, but choices man makes. Whoever, or whatever caused IntgerFlight 355 to crash and all those lives to be sacrificed, God, I was sure, didn't cause it.

After Greg's call about the helicopter for Ryan, I have never seen Gerry in such a fighting mood. He called someone who owed him a favor and he wouldn't take no for an answer. There would be a helicopter waiting for Ryan at Logan. Someone would meet him at the gate and he would we whisked away immediately to the `copter as time was extremely important. Within minutes it was arranged. Gerry had called Rog with the details, and we were out the door and on our way to catch our private flight to Ryan and Sean.

I prayed so intensely, so passionately, so soul-filled, that I wept, knowing that God would listen to my supplication. My husband of all these years was particularly quiet and I knew that he also was praying. I wondered if this was God's way of helping us to move back to Him.

"Please", I prayed, "keep both of them safe, for they love You, dear Lord."

(Blake narrates)

After the call from Greg, I had my hands full trying to calm down my lover. Jer was in rough shape, not unlike he was when Kevin killed himself. I didn't bring that tragedy up, but instead, tried to calmly tell him that nothing terrible had happened and that surely Sean wouldn't do anything that he would know would leave the boys without a parent.

Jer wouldn't buy that. He insisted that I didn't know how much those two loved each other. They were really soul mates, and he doubted that either of them could live without the other. If somehow someone didn't get to Sean in time, then he feared the worse. I couldn't divert him from that opinion.

Instead, I told him we needed to get ready and get our asses over to Rog and Greg's. They wouldn't wait for us, that was for sure. If he wanted to be there as support, we needed to get moving.

That was all that was necessary. Jer was ready in mere minutes, as was I, and we were out the door driving to Rog and Greg's. We knew not what tragedy or joy we would eventually encounter.

(Dan narrates)

I called Craig into my office and relayed to him the events as I understood them. He was shocked and saddened. He could see the pain and fear in my face, and he came to me and hugged me hoping that some of my discomfort could flow into him.

I told him I had to leave shortly. He wanted to come with me, and I couldn't think of one reason why he shluldn't, so I told him to close out his work and join me at the car. He did and we left for the Inn.

"Are you going to be okay, Dan? You look like shit. I'm worried about you," he told me.

"I'll be okay. I just can't understand why this fuckin' shit is happening to those two. Those guys are good people. They want to help those who need it. They give of themselves. They took those three boys into their hearts asking nothing in return. How many would do that? I'm just frustrated, Craig. Just frustrated!" he practically shouted at me.

"Dan, please slow down a little. You're driving too fast. We need to get to Ryan in one piece so that we can help. Let's try to stay as calm as possible. He's going to need us to keep him from flipping out," he said in his most soothing voice.

I could feel the car decelerate, as the lawyer in my lover took hold. Still, even now that he understood his role, tears still streamed down his face. We rode on silently for miles without conversation. As we approached the exit to the Inn, he finally said,

"It just fuckin' isn't fair."

Ryan narrates)

I began to wonder if we would ever land in Boston. The flight was interminable, and I was an emotional wreck. Kind Amos had done all that a stranger could to assuage my sorrow. As we began our approach to Logan, an attendant came to our row and handed me a note. I thought the worse, of course, and my guts tightened and my heartbeat raced. Even though I became lightheaded, I forced myself to focus on the note.

A great sigh of relief escaped from my lungs when I read the arrangements that had been made to get me to the `copter. I smiled at Amos, and suddenly, I just hugged him.

"Thank God, you were sitting with me, Amos. You helped me in ways I can never repay. Please may I have your card so that I can contact you and let you know what happens. You deserve that, even if it will be difficult for me to tell you about it.

As the plane touched down with the usual screech, Amos took my hand and squeezed it,

"Ryan, you are one of the nicest, most loving people I have ever met. God is good, and my dear friend, He will not let you down."

Then in the rush of people and carryons, I lost Amos, but I knew deep in my soul, that God had put him there to offer me comfort. As I came out into the terminal, I saw a young man standing there with a sign that said, `Taylor'. I went to him and he hurried me to a waiting motorized car that whisked me to the waiting helicopter.

Once I had boarded and was safely belted and equipped with headphones and a microphone, we lifted off and I prayed that we would arrive in time. I couldn't believe how quickly we got clearance, and at that moment, I knew that Dad had somehow got involved. Dear God, how I loved that man.

Time flew and before I knew it, we were landing on the Inn parking lot. There were people on the porch watching everything, and then I could make out Dan and Craig and my emotions built up again. I swallowed hard determined not to be too emotional in front of all the people from the Inn who were watching.

The pilot wouldn't let me out until the rotor had stopped. I jumped out of the `copter and ran to Dan and Craig. All my intentions dissolved into tears and I flung myself into Dan's arms and wept uncontrollably. In the silence of that late afternoon Vermont day, only my agonizing sobs could be heard. Craig led us to the car, and in moments, we were on our way to Sean.

What would I find?

(Craig narrates)

I was not prepared for what happened when Ryan stepped off the helicopter. I don't know what I had expected, but when he ran to Dan and practically collapsed in sobs, I nearly lost it. Dan was reduced to a sobbing pile of flesh. It was terrible, and worst than that, I didn't know what to do about it.

There were a number of people on the porch of the Inn who were watching the entire thing. I decided that they had seen enough so I pulled Ryan and Dan to the car, got them in the back seat, and after getting into the driver's seat, I drove off toward the cabin. I wondered what it would be like after we got there.

As we drove further from the Inn and closer to the cabin, it seemed to me that things were getting better in the back seat. I could near Dan and Ryan talking, but much of it was indistinguishable because of the road noise. The road got better and so I could now hear what they were saying.

"Dan, I can't lose him. My God, if I lose him, well, I know I will want to die. Why did this happen? What did we do wrong? Is this punishment because we fell in love and became a couple. Are we sinners who deserve the agony and punishment? Is God that vindictive? I, I . . ." I could hear Ryan sobbing again. Then I heard Dan's voice, controlled and filled with love,

"Ryan, I don't know why this happened. It's just one of those things. Things happen. You and Sean have done nothing wrong, instead you have done some wonderful things. There was no one to adopt those three boys, but in a heartbeat you and Sean wanted them to give them a chance at a happy family life. And you're not sinners. Man can't judge that. Only God can determine who is a sinner. There are too many folks today who have forgotten that simple fact. Man is not to judge; that is God's job. I don't think that God is vindictive, Ryan. I suspect that God has nothing to do with this. We're seeing the results of coincidence, of accidental happenings. You must not forget that. Let your love for Sean direct you to him. Your love is strong enough to keep him with you. Let your love flow out to him, envelope him."

"Craig, can't you go any faster," Ryan asked.

"Ryan, I asked Craig to drive carefully. What good would it be if you were injured or killed in an automobile accident. Please, Ryan, try to calm yourself. In the state you are in now, you will not be of any help to Sean." Dan warned.

I saw in the distance the turnoff to the cabins. I thanked God that we had made it this far. Ryan suddenly noticed where we were. I could see that he was tense, his eyes flashed, and his hands trembled. Dan was talking constantly to him, trying as best he could to calm him. As I drove down into the parking area we could see the Rover parked. Ryan threw open the door and jumped out, falling for a moment and then rushing past the finished new house and down to the old cabin. I could hear the music playing; it was loud and essentially drowned out all other sound.

Dan told me to stay with the car for the moment and he took off after Ryan.

(Please notice the change in narration to third person)

Ryan ran as rapidly as his feet would carry him, praying as he did, that he was not too late. He fell again, but hurried back to his feet and ran on. He got to the porch and opened the door and ran to the kitchen and out onto the back steps. The music was loud playing their song.

He saw Sean sitting on the top step, the pistol in his hand, which he was raising toward his head.

Ryan shouted "NO!" and grabbed for the gun, which discharged. As if in slow motion, Ryan grabbed for his head and then fell across Sean's legs.

From Sean came a bloodcurdling scream. At this point Dan arrived and saw the horror of Ryan slumped over a blood spattered Sean.

"Oh, my good God!" was his only comment.

(To be continued)

If you wish to comment on the story, you may email me at niki200sc@yahoo.com.