This story involves explicit homosexual activity. If such offends you, or if you are underage, please read no further.
The story is completely fictional. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. Reference to actual locations is made only to make the story seem more real.
I welcome your reactions to the story. It means a lot to know that I am being read and appreciated or not. And I do appreciate it when readers catch me in errors. With comments pro or con please write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com.
nifty.org also welcomes your donations. Like The Brothers of Aries and Libra, nifty.org is a 501 (C) (3), a real one. So your donations are fully tax deductible. Only through them can these stories continue to be brought to you without charge. Please join me and give what you can.
If you are interested in reading my other stories, the easiest way to access them in by checking Macout Mann under "Prolific Authors."
Copyright 2014 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.
TO BE A BROTHER
by Macout Mann
Chapter VI
Two Exciting Offers
On the last day of April, Jim's father received an unexpected telephone call.
"Mr. Sessions, this is Craig Pirie. You don't know me, but I had the great pleasure of getting to know your son, Jim, last month."
"Oh yes, Mr. Pirie, and I believe we have had the pleasure of meeting your son, Reginald."
"Yes indeed.
"Mr. Sessions, I am flying to the west coast on the sixth. I'd like to stop in Lafayette and talk to your family about a matter I've been thinking about...affecting Jim. Could the three of you join me for dinner at Jacques Petain?"
"Of course. But why don't you let us give you dinner? I could meet you at the airport and we could go to our house."
"Thank you very much, but I think my schedule would work best if I just meet you at the restaurant, if you don't mind. Could we say six-thirty?"
"If you'd like."
"Fine. I'm looking forward to meeting you. See you then."
Calvin Sessions felt rather like a whirlwind had hit him. That night, when he informed his wife and son of Pirie's call, Jim almost jumped out of his skin. Could it be?
"Do you have any idea what he's talking about?" His father asked.
"I dunno," Jim said. "He did mention something about a scholarship, but that was just in passing." For the whole week, he dared not believe he might actually go to Midwestern.
The following Tuesday they arrived at the restaurant with five minutes to spare.
"We're joining Mr. Pirie," Jim's father told the maître d.
"Yes Mr. Sessions. Mr. Pirie's secretary called and said there was a delay at the airport. He'll be here shortly. Would you follow me, please?"
They were led to a small private dining room, where the maître d asked if he could order them a cocktail. Sessions said they would wait for Mr. Pirie.
Jacques Petain was Lafayette's premier eatery, known for its authentic French Cuisine. Jim had never been there, his parents only to celebrate their anniversaries.
Fifteen minutes later Pirie arrived, apologizing profusely. "Didn't expect to get stacked at Lafayette Regional," he laughed.
Jim's mother ordered a Tom Collins, the two men Martinis, and Jim settled for a Coke. Mr. Pirie immediately cut to the chase.
"When I met with Jim before," he began, "I asked him if he was going to join his friend, Tom, at Midwestern next Fall, and he told me that he had decided on Seabury. He was frank to tell me that you had said you couldn't afford the tariff at Midwestern.
"Now please don't feel that I am intruding where it is not my place to go. But as it happens, I participate with a number of other business men in a trust that provides scholarships to worthy students. We don't have specific criteria, financial or otherwise, in making awards. So I am authorized to offer Jim a full four year full tuition scholarship to Midwestern. Benefactors Scholarship Trust will pay the cost of tuition, fees, books, and academic travel expenses. You will still have to pay for all his living expenses. And academic travel expenses doesn't mean the cost of going from home to school and back. What that means is payment to and from events that the school might encourage Jim to participate in.
"What do you think?"
"I don't understand," Calvin Sessions exclaimed. "Jim was admitted to Midwestern, but his high school grades were not good enough to qualify him to apply to the school for a scholarship. How can he qualify at your Trust?"
"As I said," Craig Pirie answered, "we don't have specific criteria. Grades are not everything. Your son has a wonderful personality. He is smart. He makes a great impression on everyone he meets. He's a fine physical specimen. We think he has what it takes to become a successful adult. And for now we think he deserves to be at school with his best friend.
"We don't ask for any repayment, but if our scholars are able in later life, we do hope that they will make contributions to the trust. But if you will accept our offer, for the next four years, when the bills for the covered expenses arrive, all you have to do is forward them to the Trust Offices, and they will be paid.
"There is one thing. We do ask that you do not make the fact that Jim is a beneficiary public. The trust doesn't want its existence to be widely known. It doesn't want to encourage applications from people who have no chance of being given scholarships.
"Please don't feel that we are messing around in your affairs. Think about it. There's plenty of time for you to decide."
Jim's father spoke again. "But haven't you already notified Midwestern you're not coming, Jim?"
"No, Dad. I told Tom I would just wait, in case you and Mom found some way to let me go. Oh, Dad, please say yes to Mr. Pirie. I've wanted to be with Tom so much!"
Mr. Sessions smiled broadly. "Well, we'll see."
"Let's order," Mr. Pirie suggested. He signaled the waiter and asked for suggestions.
"The Prix fixe is especially good tonight, Mr. Pirie. A Crayfish Salad with Fresh Dill followed by Poached Chicken Mousseline, Fromages, and for dessert the chef's Pineapple Surprise, fresh pineapple with strawberries and pureed raspberries, a real Springtime delight."
"That does sound good. Is everybody agreeable? Good. And would you bring the wine list, Garcon?"
The meal was elegant, as the waiter said it would be. And before it was over Craig Pirie sprang another surprise.
"Are you into horse racing, Jim?"
"No sir. Never have been."
"Well, I have a horse that's running in the Belmont Stakes on June 7. We didn't enter him in the Derby or the Preakness. He does better at the longer distances. I don't know how California Chrome will do at Pimlico; but even if he wins, I think we can keep him from capturing the triple crown.
"Anyway, Reg thought you and Tom would like to join us for the race. He's already cleared it with Tom. My other son, Malcolm, will be flying from the west coast, and will pick you up here Friday and drop you back on the eighth. It'll be a lot of fun, even if we don't win. Will you come with Tom?
"Will I?" Jim almost shouted. The fact that he did not consult his parents was not lost either on them or on Craig Pirie.
Mr. Pirie signed the check, and Calvin Sessions got him to agree to let them drive him to the airport. Mrs. Sessions had first asked if he couldn't stay the night with them, but he said that he had a meeting at nine in San Francisco.
He directed them to the general aviation terminal, bid them farewell, said he was looking forward to their acceptance of the scholarship offer, and told Jim he'd see him in New York on June 6.
When they had maneuvered around the airport back onto the main road they could see an Airstream Jet marked Pirie Industries, Inc. already on the taxiway.
Jim had to call Tom and tell him about the scholarship and that he was going along on the trip to the Belmont Stakes.
He and his parents had several long conversations about the scholarship. His folks didn't have qualms about accepting the money. They were somehow suspicious about why the offer was made. Jim didn't really even know the Piries. If only they knew!
Finally Jim convinced them that that's the way filthy rich guys were. He was just lucky to have impressed Mr. Pirie, and he so wanted to go to Midwestern.
Calvin called Pirie, who by this time he was calling "Craig," and in a few days the contract arrived from the trust. It was exactly as it had been represented, except that it did stipulate that, if the existence of the scholarship became public, it could be withdrawn at the discretion of the trust.
Jim could hardly wait for Tom to get home. He jumped out of his skin every time his cell rang all day Saturday, the 17th. It wasn't until after 10 PM that the expected call came.
"Hey, bro, I just got home. Got a late start. How're you hanging?" Tom greeted Jim.
"Hard as a rock, motherfucker. Sure you got a late start. Probably stopped at every rest area between here and Chicago to get your dick sucked."
"I wish. What d'ya say we get together after church tomorrow. I'll pick you up about one. We'll find some place to mess around."
Tom showed up right on time. He came in the house to say "hello" to Jim's folks. More conversation than either guy wanted followed. Jim's dad quizzed Tom about the Brothers and how he got involved. "Oh I was proposed by Victor Scanlon, a fellow I know at Midwestern," he only half lied.
As they drove away from the Sessons' house, Jim reached for Tom's groin. "God, I've missed this," he said.
"And I've missed yours, bro," Tom said. "But we've got all summer..."
"And all winter," Jim interrupted. "I'm so excited to be going to Midwestern."
"Too bad we can't room together. At least not next year."
Tom drove out of town, finding a deserted road leading to the lakeshore. "We won't be disturbed out here," he declared, as he switched off the ignition. "Tomorrow afternoon we can get with Kenny. He'll be home all alone."
He reached for the top button of Jim's jeans.