Date: Thu, 19 May 2005 22:25:18 EDT
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: as-i-remember-him-9

All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or
are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language,
please exit now.


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                              "AS I REMEMBER HIM"

                                  A story by

                                Ritch Christopher

                                   * * * * *


                    "And if you knew him you would understand just why..."


                                  Chapter Nine



	After Father Chris finished telling Thad about the incident in his
car with Andy, Thad took the matter very seriously, having professionally
to look at it from a detective's standpoint, all the while trying to
divorce himself from his priest/confessor/friendship with Chris. In the
past, in the times the two of them had conversed, Chris usually had the
upper. dominating hand as Thad was always the one to confess. As he
listened to Chris, a joke he had heard crossed Thad's mind but he dismissed
it immediately, though not denying its basic truth: Months ago when the
Catholic Church was in the hot seat about its priests molesting altar boys,
one of the late night comics quipped to his audience, 'I went to confession
last week, but as soon as the priest sat down, I looked at him and said,
"You first!".'

	Thad's tie to his church was not all that binding, but he did
respect Chris and followed the Catholic doctrines at least as much as any
other American Catholic of the 21st century. Anyone with common sense would
know that most Catholics use some form of birth control or else every
Catholic woman would get pregnant every nine months until menopause. Also
all Catholic men would have to jerk off in the bathroom before going to bed
with their wives every night...and since the Catholic Church condemned
masturbation as well...then most Catholic men would walk around limping
with a perpetual case of 'blue balls'. To add to Thad's skepticism about
American Catholics obeying the Vatican's rules, Thad had always been
convinced that priests must indulge in some kind of sexual activity on a
regular basis.

	Whether it was true or not, Thad had read somewhere that the lack
of orgasms could induce testicular cancer. It was not the place of a parish
member to question his confessor about his private--or lack of--private
life. It was the priest's job to make sure his members didn't stray into
sin...and as part of Thad's mind listened as Chris was relating Andy's
declaration of love to him in the car, the rest of Thad's mind raced,
'Could Father Chris be like one of those priests I've read about? Had
Father Chris encouraged Andy, consciously or not, to feel as he did?'

	Thad could plainly see that Father Chris was upset. Thad also knew
that he was the only one to whom Chris could reveal this without the result
leading to a scandal or worse. Chris was a good-looking young man, only
eight years older than Andy and just three years younger than Thad. Without
his clerical collar and vocation, Chris would make someone a fine husband
or lover, Thad thought as Chris continued with his details of Andy's
disappearance.

	'Could I desire some kind of intimacy with this man, my priest if
it was possible?' Thad asked himself, only to hear his libido responding
with an emphatic, 'Damned right, I could! If things weren't as they are, I
could fall in love with Chris in an instant! I know damned well, he'd be
great in bed!'

	"...and as soon as I found time this afternoon, I rushed here to
see you," Chris said, finishing his story.

	"You know, of course, that Andy can't be described as missing until
after twenty-four hours by police policy?"

	"Yes, but I've never understood that," Chris replied. "At the end
of twenty-four hours, a missing person could be as far away as Europe or
Asia!"

	"I doubt if he would go that far..." Thad reassured
Chris. "Officially, I'm having a sick day from work. In spite of my being
gay...and the whole department knows it, gay men are not allowed to have
time off for mourning. Hell, if Alex had been my wife, I could've taken off
a month, but as you know, gays have to lie to be afforded the same
privileges as heteros."

	"I understand the state of Connecticut has changed that custom,"
Chris replied.

	"That's another thing that makes it so ironic. I don't know the
statistics, Father, but I'd be willing to bet a month's salary that there
are more gay men in the south than in any other part of the United
States. Granted, I was born and raised in Jersey, but southern men are more
compassionate. They're more prone to feel emotion toward other people and
not afraid of showing it. Whether they're gay or not, most southern men
openly display more affection or emotion toward other men, especially their
best friends."

	"I suppose that's one of the reasons I'm glad I was commissioned to
a southern church. I shouldn't say this, but southern men confess tons more
than northern Catholics."

	"I know you're right...a southerner never knows when to shut up. He
just keeps on talking. It's hard as hell for a southerner to keep a
secret. It's twice as easy for me to get a suspect here to confess a crime
than it would be a guy from Jersey or New York!" Chris laughed at Thad's
evaluation of southern men and then Thad added, "Sorry, I got off on
another subject, but back to Andy...I'm expecting David to come by to get
the gear he left with me and as soon as he does, I'll go driving around the
city and do some private police investigation. Somebody, somewhere must
have seen him. Do you know if he has any money or a credit card?"

	"I'm sure he doesn't. He was unconscious when the paramedics took
him to the hospital last night and I'm not sure if he was wearing his
street clothes or pajamas, but those were all he had to put on when he
disappeared. Also, I can't see Todd or Marcia letting Andy have his own
credit card. He actually has no need for one since they buy everything Andy
needs."

	"Then, I sincerely doubt that he's bought a bus or plane ticket to
get out of the city. Of course, he could always hitch a ride on I-75, but
where would he go and what would he do when he got there?"

	"I agree with you, Thad. That's why I think he's still here in
Atlanta somewhere."

	"You don't think he'll try to contact you?"

	"No, he didn't want to look at me in the hospital."

	"What about Jeff and Tommy, the two that work with him on your food
route?"

	"It's possible, but a suicide attempt is something he would want to
keep from his best friends."

	"Thad, can I ask you something very personal?"

	"Hell, you're my priest. You know ALL my secrets."

	"I've been sitting here admiring the way you've decorated your
apartment since yesterday. It's unbelievably beautiful...and must have set
you back a pretty penny."

	"I paid cash."

	"I've been wondering why you did it and so quickly?"

	"I...I just thought it was time I started living in the
twenty-first century. What did you want to ask me that's so personal?"

	"I just wondered if...if David's visit prompted you to redecorate?"

	"David? Good heavens, Father! Why would you think that?"

	"I know that you're gay. I also know how much you thought of Mark
before you met Alex...and David is the spitting image of his brother..."

	"All right, you know that David and I shared a bed night before
last. Are you trying to ask if the two of us had sex?"

	"Not really...I mean, if you did, I can only assume that you'll
tell me about it in confession."

	"Well, you won't have to wait to find out...the answer is 'no'. We
did NOT have sex!" Thad paused before reluctantly adding, "Father...I...I
did kiss him though...!"

	"My intuition made me believe 'something' had happened. Can I ask
how David reacted? I mean did he get angry or try to hit you? Did the kiss
scare him? Is that the reason he didn't spend the night here last night?"

	"I suspect that's what happened...although he didn't fight the
kiss. I don't know if he was tired, exhausted, or just lonely, but he
didn't seem to mind the kiss. It was as if he wanted me, or someone, to
hold him..."

	"That's understandable, just as I knew you wanted someone to hold
you at the hospital when you learned about Alex."

	"I suppose I should've thanked you for that. I was so glad that you
were there for Alex and for me."

	"It was my duty to comfort you as your friend as well as your
priest. There are times in everyone's life when he just needs someone to
hold him for a minute...no matter what age or sex."

	"What about you, Father? Who holds you when you need to be held?"

	"Actually, no one. I'm supposed to be strong and, when I need
someone, I must turn to the Lord."

	"But you don't really feel the Lord's arms around you, do you? I
mean actually feel His PHYSICAL arms?"

	"I feel all that I'm supposed to feel..."

	"Father, how about at the end of the day...when I and all your
flock have driven you insane with our problems and you're carrying all the
weight of our problems on your shoulders...then you go to bed...and pray?"

	"Yes..."

	"Don't you ever wish there was someone in your bed...some HUMAN,
who could put his arms around you and give you comfort?"

	"I won't answer that, Thad...because if I did...I'd probably lie
and my vocation won't allow me to lie..."

	"But your vocation won't allow you to feel either, will it?"

	"I took a vow NOT to feel...not emotional things anyway."

	"Father, take my hand..." Thad stuck out his hand toward Chris.

	"What?"

	"Please take my hand..."

	"All right..."

	Chris took Thad's hand as he would a handshake, but Chris turned
their clasped hands, placing his on top of Chris'.

	"Now, tell me what you feel?" Thad asked, in a mellow voice.

	"I...I feel a friend reaching out for me..."

	"I don't mean to blaspheme the Holy Eucharist...but my hand is more
than a wafer and a sip of wine. Concentrate, Father...feel my flesh. It's
real flesh. Feel the sweat in my palm. Try to imagine the blood running
through my fingers and rushing to my heart and almost instantly coming back
to my hand, real red blood, not a euphemism."

	"I...I don't..."

	"Don't you see, Father? You spend more time concerned about my
soul. I'm not sure either you or I could even define what a soul
is...something mystical in the afterlife...something intangible that can't
be seen, heard, or felt...something that may or may not exist and I don't
think that the Almighty's divine purpose when he created man was to focus
completely on something that can't be seen or touched. We were created with
five or more senses and if we don't use them, we might as well blindfold
ourselves and rap rubber tires around our waists like the Michelin man so
that we can't get close enough to get to know one another. I don't mean to
offend you, Father, but often, that's my conception of priests or others
who don't experience real life...real flesh and blood."

	"Why are you saying these things, Thad?"

	"It's just that the other night at the hospital when I broke down
and cried and suddenly felt your arms around me, I felt something that
I...and part of that time, I kept wondering if YOU felt something. I mean,
aren't priests human beings?.. with human wants and needs? I've never
understood how any priest could live sixty or seventy years denying his
human attributes. Sure, I've told you in the confessional that sometimes I
feel I will die of loneliness if I don't pick up a guy, for a night or only
for a few hours, just to hold someone in the dark...even if I don't know
him...but my human desires have to feel satisfied. Surely to God, you must
have these same wants and needs? How can you go through life without them?
I mean, shit! Sometimes I don't blame priests who reach the brink of
postulated desire and have to step out of the realm of their so-called
'holiness' and secretly become human with another man OR a woman!"

	"Thad, it's all part of our religious training. In seminary, we are
required to spend hundreds of hours in private meditation, sometimes lying
prostrate on the floor to resist the temptation of the flesh and passionate
desires. After a while, we become conditioned and learn to raise our
thoughts above worldly pleasures and keep our focus on God and what He
expects from us."

	"Then being a priest is devoiding yourself of being human? How can
you understand human needs and despair if you are incapable of experiencing
them yourself?"

	"Thad, I wasn't always a priest. I...I guess I sowed my wild oats
as a teen enough to understand most of the problems of those who ask me for
help."

	"Can you honestly say that, with your hand in mine, you feel
nothing more than a mere handshake?"

	"Honestly, I can't...I can hold your hand and feel a good friend
with me, but I won't allow myself to feel more than that."

	"Father, don't you ever get the urge to shuck all your religion and
go out and get a real life?"

	"Thad, my life with the Lord is very real and it's all I need since
I chose to become a priest. Why is this so important to you? MY life and MY
needs?"

	"A while ago, you mentioned that your intuition told you I was
interested in David. What if I told you that my detective's intuition told
me the same thing about you?"

	"That 'I' had an interest in David, the same way you did?"

	"Exactly."

	"Then, I say you'd better go to the target range and sharpen your
intuitive skills just as you practice your shooting skill." The sudden
silence became palpable.

	"I'm sorry, Father, I guess I went a little to far..."

	"Thad, it doesn't take an MRI or a CT scan to see that you're
jealous and, believe me, you have no reason to be jealous of my interest in
David. To me, he's the grieving brother of a dearly departed young friend
and that's all."

	"Oh, I knew you weren't pursuing David as anything more than
that. It's just that there's something about David that I..I can't put into
words. As long as I'm confessing outside the booth, I might as well tell
you that...'yes', I'm strongly attracted to him and at a time when I know I
should be grieving for Alex..."

	"And, Thad, you also should know that you're quixotic if you think
David can become gay in a matter of two days. I don't think I've ever seen
you being so aggressive toward anyone."

	"The only way I can explain it would give a psychologist fodder for
a thesis. It's as if I'm getting a second chance with Mark...where my first
attempt failed, I keep looking into David's eyes, wanting him to become
Mark and I know that's insane."

	"No scholar ever wrote that there is anything sane about falling in
love. Love is the one emotion that defies reason and can make anyone look,
act, and feel foolish and do all kinds of things he would never do
otherwise."

	"Chris, were you ever in love before you..."

	"Many times, Thad...and I was just as insane as anyone else who's
ever been in love."

	"...and not since you became a priest?"

	"My vows won't permit it."

	"Then pardon my saying this, but you must get lonely..."

	"That's something no one will ever know," Chris sighed. "And now I
must go before David gets here. If you see or hear anything about Andy,
please call his parents...and me."

	"I will, Father..."

	Chris got up to leave and headed toward the door. "Your new
place...?"

	"Yes?"

	"Would you like me to come by and bless it?"

	"That would be great!"

	"When David arrives, if you two want to meet with me to discuss a
duo service for Alex and Mark, give me a call...the sooner the better."

	"We will, Father." Chris opened the door. "Just one more thing
before you go, Father..."

	"What is it?"

	"I could use another big hug like the one you gave me in the
hospital parking lot."

	Chris opened his arms..."Sure..."

	Thad walked to Chris and the two embraced...only for some reason,
this hug was different than the one before. Chris' grip was tighter than
Thad's ever had been.

	"I guess we all need a hug every now and then," Chris said before
letting go of Thad and turning to go.

	Thad watched Chris walk down the stairs and go out the door to his
car, all the while thinking to himself, 'I would love to yank that clerical
collar off and see how he would hug me then...'.


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	Needless to say, when Chris left Thad's to return to St. Thaddeus
to prepare for the evening meal, he was a bit emotionally shaken by his
conversation with Thad. Several of Thad's remarks had hit home with
Chris. He was not used to being on the defensive side when talking with a
confesser since he always played the role of the confessor. Sure, Chris got
lonely and had been lonely ever since he took his vow of celibacy. For the
first year or two at the seminary, he would often lie in bed, sleepless, as
he relived the various sexual encounters he had experienced with various
male partners. He missed sex and he missed having someone beside him in
bed...not always needing someone to hold, but just feeling his mattress
being indented by another body next to him...to be able to casually reach
out in the dark and touch a leg, an elbow, another human being, or listen
as his bed-partner breathed heavily in his sleep.

	Chris hadn't minded giving up his worldly possessions when he was
ordained. He had never been a person to lavish gifts on himself or add to a
collection of any kind, such as CD's, movies, books, etc. He had not been
fond of going to fancy restaurants or had he desired expensive foods. Chris
had grown up in a simple lifestyle with simple wants and needs. Therefore,
when it came time for him to divorce himself of material goods, there was
really nothing he missed...except for sex. He did miss sex and almost chose
to exit the priesthood before he vowed to become chaste. But he had honored
his celibacy and had not had sex in any way at any time, although solo
masturbation remained his biggest temptation. How many wet dreams could he
have that weren't self-induced? Not many. They all had to spring from his
own thoughts.

	As he arrived at the church, Lydia, the church secretary, was
getting into her car to make a quick run to the post office. She stopped
when she saw Chris and waited to speak to him.

	"Good afternoon, Lydia," Chris spoke, gently.

	"Good afternoon, Father. I'm so glad I caught you before you went
into the kitchen. Father 'D' wants to see you in his study."

	"Oh?"

	"Yes. When I didn't see you in the kitchen, I left you a note,
asking you to see him as soon as you came in."

	"Thanks."

	"Mr. and Mrs. Thompson are with him."

	"Andy's parents?"

	"Yes, sir."

	"Has Andy been found?"

	"I don't know, but I don't think so as Andy is not with them."

	"Thanks, Lydia, I'll go on up right now."

	Chris ran through the kitchen, out into the hall, and up the stairs
leading to the study which he shared with Father Dinsmore. Although it was
actually Father 'D's office, Chris had a desk on one side of the study
which he used since he was only the assistant. Normally, Chris wouldn't
have knocked on the door, but since Lydia had said that Father 'D' had
guests, he thought it best not to invade their privacy. So he knocked
lightly and opened the door enough to stick his head through the
crack..."Father, sorry to interrupt but Lydia just told me you wanted to
see me."

	"Yes, Chris," Father 'D' replied, "please do come in." Chris
entered. "You know the Thompson's, I'm sure."

	"Yes, of course...Todd, Marcia...I hope you're here to say that
you've found Andy safe."

	"No, Father Chris," Todd said. "We've still heard nothing."

	"I...I just finished talking with a detective and he's going to
start a search of his own."

	"Thanks, Father, That's good news." Todd added.

	"Chris, please sit down," Father 'D' said, "There are a few things
I...and well, rather, the Thompson's and I would like to discuss with you."

	"Certainly."

	Father 'D' was not old, nor was he young like Chris. His hair was
not gray but white. He was probably in his late 60's or early 70's. He had
always been a devout Catholic and for some reason had always been looked
over when it came time to promote him through the ranks of the Church, but
since he kept his priestly accomplishments quiet and private and never made
waves against the Church's doctrines, he was overlooked as if he almost
didn't exist. Chris had been his assistant for over two years and really
didn't know Father 'D' personally. Father 'D' never showed anyone his
personality. Again he was always the confessor and not the confesser. Chris
didn't recall ever hearing Father 'D' crack a joke or discuss the world or
local news...not even news from the Church or the Vatican. The two priests
had worked side by side, serving communion and ministering to the same
congregation but still neither knew anything about the other. They were
friendly strangers, so to speak.

	As Chris sat in the chair to the right of the big desk, his eyes
looked toward Todd and Marcia who were both looking down, not at
Chris. Chris noticed that Father 'D' was also avoiding eye contact with him
and suddenly Chris felt he was about to hear some bad news or then again,
it was almost as if he were in a 'hot seat'. There were several seconds of
silence before Father 'D' decided to begin his important meeting.

	"Father Chris," Father 'D' began. Chris knew something was up
because Father D never called him, 'Father Chris' except during a church
service. "Since Mr. and Mrs. Thompson have heard nothing from their son,
Andy, they took it upon themselves as his parents to invade his privacy and
go into his room to look for clues to help find his whereabouts."

	"That's a good idea," Chris said, without being too enthusiastic.

	"They...Mr. and Mrs. Thompson...while investigating his room and
looking through Andy's personal items, came across a book in the form of a
diary...Andy's diary..."

	For the first time, Chris had idea where this conversation was
heading but not how far. He felt a catch in his throat and his heart began
to race slightly. Chris wanted to reply, but to say what?

	"Father Chris," Father 'D' continued, 'there is a great deal about
you that Andy has written in his own handwriting."

	"Oh, I...I hope he had good things to say...I mean, Andy and I have
always had a good relationship here at the church and especially on the
morning and evening meal routes."

	"Yes, he had a lot of nice things to say about you. Perhaps some of
them are too nice and Mr. and Mrs. Thompson wanted me to see if you could
clarify some of Andy's entries."

	"I'm not sure that I can...but I'll be happy to try..." Chris
replied, cautiously.

	Father 'D' handed a rather large leather volume to Chris and said,
"Father Chris, some of the entries that I've read are somewhat graphic in
their descriptions, so perhaps you should read them to yourself rather than
risk embarrassing Mr. and Mrs. Thompson."

	Chris took the book and noticed that it was not an ordinary diary
but a five year diary and as he opened it to the first written page, he
noticed it was dated a little over two years ago.

	"Should I read it from the beginning or is there some specific date
you want to call to my attention?" Chris asked, trying to disguise the
tremolo in his voice.

	"The beginning should be fine and you can skip the pages to any of
the others. They're almost the same as you seem to be the subject mentioned
in nearly every entry," Father 'D' explained.

	Chris' hands were trembling so much he could hardly make out Andy's
wobbly handwriting. The first page read..."Dear Diary, In a week I'll be
seventeen and for eleven months I've been 'sweet sixteen' and never been
kissed, but may that will all change. I'm hoping that Father Chris will
take me in his arms and French kiss me."

	Chris felt sick to his stomach. He dared not look up to catch the
eyes of Todd, Marcia, or Father 'D', whom Chris knew were watching him
intensely. Yet he was more afraid of what he would read on the following
pages. With his thumb, he flipped over several weeks and months and read,
"Dear Diary: Tonight it happened as I always hoped it would. Chris (I know
longer call him 'Father Chris' since he told me only to call him by his
first name when the two of us are alone)...he unzipped my pants and put his
hand inside to feel my hardness. I thought I would faint but I was more
scared that I would cum all over his hand. Then he made me relax when he
took my hand and placed it inside his pants and I felt him for the very
first time. His dick was larger than I imagined, but just touching him and
him touching me let me know just how much he loved me and how we must be
together when he gives up his priesthood."

	Chris closed his eyes in disbelief and held his breath as he
scanned forward once again. "Dear Diary: I know that Jeff and Tommy have
sex every night, but Chris' and my relationship is deeper than
theirs. Chris and I don't have sex, we make love and that's a huge
difference. Last week when he fucked me for the first time, I wanted to
scream from the pain, but I did cry out with joy. I'm his now...all his and
I'll belong to him the rest of our lives."

	Chris could read no further. He had seen enough. How in God's holy
name could Andy have fantasized so vividly and put it all down in his own
handwriting?  What could Chris possibly say to make Todd, Marcia, or Father
'D' to make them know that he was innocent? None of the things in the diary
had ever happened or ever would--in this world or the next!

	Chris slammed the book shut, making a loud noise. "This...none of
this is true. None of this ever happened! I don't know how I can make you
believe me. I'd rather want to know why Andy wrote this...these lies! THIS
BOOK IS FILLED WITH LIES!" Chris screamed as he banged the book on the
desk.

	Todd was the first to speak to Chris, "The diary begins when Andy
was sixteen and still a minor. He's eighteen now and of consensual age, but
that doesn't make it right...NONE of it."

	"Todd, surely you're not accusing me of molesting Andy! I can't
recall if I've ever even shaken his hand. I know I've never put my arm
around him or hug him, but the things he's written in his diary are
preposterous!"

	"Father Chris," Marcia interjected with a tear in her voice, "if we
had only known. I mean, if Andy is gay...that's all right. If he wanted to
have an affair with you, I'm sure we could have worked out some kind of
private arrangement so that the two of you could be together..."

	"Marcia, please! You're not listening! Andy and I did not have an
affair. You call Jeff or Tommy and ask them if they ever saw anything out
of the ordinary between Andy and me. I'm as close to them as I am to
Andy. I treat them all the same."

	"But Tommy and Jeff are gay, aren't they?" Marcia asked.

	"I don't know, Marcia. You'd have to ask them. If they ever said
anything that that might suggest something along that line, it would come
under a confessional seal and I'm bound to keep it secret...but I can and
will say this...I've never heard any kind of sex talk or discussion among
Andy, Jeff, or Tommy in my presence. When the four of us go out on a meal
run, we laugh, we sing, we tell jokes...clean jokes, but we never talk
about sex...NEVER HAVE!"

	Father 'D' spoke for the first time since Chris read from the
diary, "Father Chris, speaking of the meal run, I think it would be best if
you delivered the meals by yourself until we can get this matter cleared
up...or rather until we can talk with Andy himself. If you think you can't
handle the meals by yourself, then we'll have to discontinue the service
until we can handle it more ably."

	"But, Father 'D', so many people depend on the service for their
daily sustenance. They would go hungry and perhaps get sick or sicker
without the hot meal or two which we provide for them."

	"Then I suggest you find a way to do it by yourself or ask some of
the ladies or older men of our congregation to assist you with the
distribution. Is that clear?"

	"Yes, sir..."

	"Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, is there anything else you want to ask
Father Chris...or maybe something you want to say to him?"

	"FATHER! TODD! MARCIA!" Chris screamed. "Why is no one listening to
me? Why am I being convicted of something I didn't do?"

	"Father," Todd said, "I think the diary speaks for itself. We've
read Andy's side and we've heard your denial, so until we can get the two
of you together, we won't know the truth..."

	"But..."

	"That will be all, Father!" Father 'D' said emphatically. "Mr. and
Mrs. Thompson, I'm sorry all this happened and I...the Church will
investigate and search for the truth and you will be the first to know what
we find out. I hope you find Andy quickly...hopefully before this evening
is over. Please call and let me know if you do."

	"Thanks, Father 'D'...we will." Todd said as he and Marcia got up
to leave. Neither of the two looked at Chris or said 'goodbye' to him as
they left.

	Chris' feelings of anger and hurt each equalized the other. He
wanted to lash out at his accusers and his superior. He would have loved to
put his fist through the nearest wall. Inside of ten minutes, he had
experienced his own personal Grand Inquisition and felt he was ready to be
tarred, feathered, or hanged, whichever punishment his crime demanded.

	"Father 'D'..."

	"Whatever you have to say, Chris, save it until later. If you
intend to serve your evening meal, I suggest you call Tommy and Jeff to say
you won't be needing their help, then if you want to go out by yourself,
then do so. As for the truth...I think it would be a good idea if you said
your confession to me later this evening before bedtime."

	"What I have to confess...I've already said it to you and to the
Thompson's."

	"That's all, then, Chris. Please go..."

	Feeling totally depressed and rejected, Chris walked down the
stairs to the kitchen. He kicked a stool next to the table where he
prepared the meals. On the far wall was a crucifix almost three feet in
height with the bleeding Jesus hanging from it. Chris looked at the cross
and remember Christ's words at the last supper and Chris shouted, "Father,
if it be thy will, let this cup pass from me." Then he dropped to his knees
and wept loudly.


<><><><><><><><><><><><>


	While David was locked in the embrace with Randy, he made a firm
decision that he should find some polite way to leave before emotions
stirred them too far. possibly leading to a repeat performance of what had
happened the day before. Not that David hadn't enjoyed the oral sexual
pleasure Randy had bestowed upon him. Hell, he was only a man, and what man
wouldn't enjoy suck service? But David felt he was not into the gay
scene...at least not yet...and hopefully never. David ran his hands up
Randy's chest and gently pushed Randy away. Randy got David's message.

	"I...I am sorry, David. I...It's just so confusing to me. I know
you're not Mark but these feelings of guilt and desires I've had for so
many months seem to make me lose a grip on reality."

	"It's OK, Randy. I quite understand and there's no reason for you
to apologize."

	"Thanks," Randy said, walking toward the refrigerator. "I...I guess
we'd better get breakfast started..."

	"Randy, if it's all the same to you, why don't we skip breakfast?
I...I'm really not hungry--I still feel a bit nauseous after having too
much to drink last night."

	"What would you like to do?"

	"I...I would like to clean up if that's okay and maybe borrow some
clothes. Then I'd like to call a taxi or maybe you'd be kind enough to take
me to Thad's to get my bag. I suppose he's wondering what happened to me
since we had a bit of a tiff before he left yesterday to go to the funeral
home."

	"I wouldn't dream of you calling a taxi. I'll take you any place
you want to go."

	"Thad and I were supposed to meet with Chris some time today to see
about arranging the service for Mark and Alex. I hope you understand."

	"Completely," Randy replied, then added, "David? I AM invited to
the service, aren't I? I know that many people blame me for not seeing Mark
during the past few months...but since you know the whole story now, maybe
at least you know that I really did love him and wanted to see him...but I
loved him enough to honor his wish."

	"I'd be hurt if you weren't at the service. From what you've told
me, you were closer to Mark than I ever was...and I was his own flesh and
blood."

	"David, don't ever get the idea that Mark didn't love you, because
he did. He loved his dad and mother too, but when he talked of you...YOU
were his whole family."

	"Thanks for telling me, Randy..."

	"I...I'll go make sure there are fresh towels in the bathroom and
I'll pick you out some clothes."

	"A pair of jeans and a t-shirt will do. I'll give them back to you
as soon as I can get to my own clothes."

	"Damn, David! Didn't you see the clothes in my closet? Over half of
them, I've never worn. I bought them on a spree and since we're the same
size, I want to outfit you with a new wardrobe, if you'll let me."

	"The clothes that you wear and the clothes that guys wear on the
campus at my university don't quite gibe."

	"Then maybe you can start a new fashion trend and others will
follow your lead. Jesus! The way you talk, I get the image that you guys
wear overalls and calico checkered shirts with a big red bandana hanging
out of your back pocket."

	David laughed. "We're not hicks. It's just that I doubt if any of
the guys in my clique have ever seen something from Versace or Armani, let
alone owned any of them...and by the way, our football team played the
University of West Virginia last fall, and would you believe they didn't
wear overalls either? Atlanta might be a huge metropolis, but contrary to
most people's notions, there are some rubes or hicks here, too."

	"I didn't say we were better off in Atlanta. I remember what my
dad's brother said about Atlanta when he visited here from Nevada. He said
that Las Vegas was a strip of lighted buildings all lined up in a row to
hide the desert in its backyards and he said that Atlanta was no
different. 'No matter how many tall buildings you put up...they're only
cardboard fronts to hide the country rednecks in back of them'."

	Later, when David got out of the shower, he dried off, put on
deodorant and noticed that Randy had hung a pair of Levi's and a white
t-shirt on back of the bathroom door. He put them on with fresh underwear,
socks, and a pair of Nike's and exited into the bedroom. On the bed was a
large suitcase that Randy had packed to give to him. Inside the case were
thousands of dollars worth of designer men's clothing that Randy insisted
that David accept as a gift.

	"Randy, there's no way I can accept this...!" David said, looking
at the suitcase.

	"David, just think of it as my way of doing Mark a favor. If he
were still here, he'd want his big brother to keep in step with the times."

	"How can I repay you? I mean, a southerner can't accept a gift
without 'returning in kind'..."

	"You repaid me yesterday...and your presence has been more than
enough. I know this sounds stupid, but having you here and spending a night
and day with me, makes me feel as if Mark has forgiven me for anything I
left unsaid or undone."

	"Randy, what time is it?"

	"A little after three..."

	"I hope Thad will be home. I need to get my gear."

	"I'll wait with you if he isn't. I can even take you to see Father
Chris if you like." Randy paused. "I'm sorry, David, I just don't want to
let you go. It's like Mark leaving me for the second time in a week." He
turned his back on David for a moment.

	"Thanks, Randy, but you remember...I'm not Mark." David's hand
settled gently on Randy's shoulder.

	"And you're apparently not gay...but goddammit, if you were, I'd
give old Jenny the race of her life, trying to win your affection."

	"Even though it's me, it's David, and not Mark?"

	"Yes, David...YOU! I won't forget you as long as I live. I know
you're not versed in gay trivia, but you do remember Judy Garland...?"

	"Sure, 'Dorothy'..."

	"In one of her best films, she sang the gay national lament called,
"The Man That Got Away". We've all had someone who got away, but you'll be
mine from now on."

	"Should I be flattered?" David's confusion showed plainly.

	"Greatly!...Come on, I'll carry that bag for you."

<><><><><><>

	As David and Randy arrived at Thad's, they saw Chris' car pulling
away. Thad honked his horn and David gave a yell, but either Chris didn't
hear or he chose to ignore them.

	"Should I wait?" Randy asked.

	"No, I see Thad's car. I need to talk with him privately before we
go see Chris. Once plans are made for the service, I'll call you. There are
probably a lot of Mark's friends whom you know to invite--people that no
one else would think of."

	"I'll wait for your call. You DO have my number?"

	"I...I memorized it while you were sleeping."

	"That's touching."

	"What do you mean?"

	"It makes me feel as if you cared enough about me to lock me in
your memory bank."

	"I'm great with numbers...telephone, license plates, bank deposits
and withdrawals..."

	"Just another piece of data...?" Randy's smile seemed a trifle
brittle.

	"No, of course not. I didn't mean to trivialize you or your phone
number. I DO want to keep in contact with you."

	"I hope you do...and if ever Jenny doesn't look quite so
appetizing..."

	"You asshole! You are bad! You're bad! I don't think that's ever
gonna happen..." David joked.

	"It happened once...and I hope you won't forget it!"

	"Yes, and a group of my frat brothers took me bungi jumping once
too. I never forgot it...and I never tried it again!"

	"Hey! Your one and only bungi jump...did you find it thrilling or
exciting?"

	"At the time, I guess it was thrilling...but when I got back to
school, I realized I might have lost my life and it scared the hell out of
me."

	"What we did was not life-threatening..."

	"Just life-altering..."

	"Yeah, but if you tried it a second time, I'd be there to protect
you..."

	"Thanks, Randy. Thanks for a place to stay, the dinner, the
clothes, your southern hospitality, and an evening I'll never forget."

	"You're welcome, David...and I hope you never forget the evening we
spent together."

	David gripped Randy's shoulder, looked in his eyes, and gave Randy
a wave and walked into Thad's apartment building. He climbed the one flight
of stairs and knocked on Thad's door.

	"Thad?"

	"Yeah? Is that you, David?"

	"Yes..."

	"Hold on a minute," Thad replied as he looked around to make sure
that everything was as perfect as Tim Curry had left it. Being satisfied
with what he saw, he opened the door.

	David didn't look at Thad because his focus went directly at what
he saw behind Thad. Was he at the correct address? Was this the dingy slum
that David left only twenty-four hours earlier?

	"What in God's name happened?" David finally said, entering. "I
feel like I'm in Oz or the Chocolate Factory..."

	"You like it?" Thad asked, enthusiastically

	"Like it? It's...it's magnificent! How...when...?"

	"I felt I needed a change in my life..." Thad said.

	"A change? This is more like a radical reformation!"

	"Come on, let me show you around!" Thad was more than
pleased. David was 'oohing' and 'ahhing' just has Thad hoped he would. Tim
had been a magician and done a awesome magic trick. Thad took David by the
hand and showed him each of the four rooms, pointing out every piece of
furniture, fixture, or appliance, trying his best to remember how Tim had
described each new object.

	"Listen!" Thad said, "Did you have your lunch yet?"

	"Being totally honest, I haven't eaten breakfast..."

	This comment disturbed Thad a bit. No breakfast? No lunch? What had
David and Thad been doing to make them miss two meals?

	"You...haven't eaten all day?"

	"I'm afraid I slept rather late...and I'm sorry to confess I woke
up with a huge hangover and didn't feel like eating."

	"Did you...did you have a good time with Randy?"

	"Yes...a good time and an interesting one."

	Now Thad's curiosity was definitely aroused. "Without prying too
much, can I ask what you did? I mean, did you go out for dinner or go to a
club or somewhere?"

	"Dinner was out of this world!" David replied. Then he spent the
next fifteen minutes describing the Polynesian food and the floor show. But
Thad never heard a word as he was more interested in what David and Thad
did once they got back to Randy's place.

	"...then we got back to Randy's and I guess I'd had a little too
much to drink..."

	Thad felt his body becoming tense, fearing what David would say
next.

	"Oh, I forgot to tell you...BEFORE we went to dinner, I took a
whirlpool bath in Randy's hot tub."

	Thad now had something else to worry about. "Randy has a hot tub?
Doesn't he live in an apartment?"

	"Yes, but it's huge. He has two bedrooms..."

	"His and a guest bedroom?"

	"Yes..."

	"He...he let you sleep in the guestroom?"

	"That was my intention, but I was so drunk I never made it down the
hall to the guestroom."

	Thad was almost afraid to pry further. The facts were mounting into
staggering evidence for the detective. Only hours before, Thad had kissed
David. Thad was the first man David had ever kissed. The two of them had
slept in the same bed. The initial shock of being in a private setting with
a gay man was over for David. Now he had gone to the apartment of one of
the best looking gay guys in Atlanta, one who was notorious for picking up
guys for one-night stands...and he had let David use his hot tub, he had
taken David to dinner at an expensive restaurant, gotten David drunk...so
much so that David could not find the guest bedroom...Thad jumped to a
almost certain conclusion that David was no longer a virgin with a
man. Randy must have taken complete advantage of David while he was
inebriated and Thad found himself jealous as hell. He had spent thousands
of dollars just to impress David and his ploy had been topped by some
spoiled rich kid.

	"Thad, I am highly impressed. You've done a remarkable job. It's
almost miraculous when I think you did all this since yesterday...Truly
unbelievable!" David said.

	"Actually, it was all done this morning."

	"Then I'm even more impressed. You've got a place now that you can
be proud of...and then, when that 'right' person comes along in your life,
I'm sure he will find it as wonderful as I do."

	"You really like it?"

	"I said it. Yes, I really like it."

	"But...but, I bet it doesn't come close if you compared it with
Randy's."

	"You've never seen Randy's apartment?"

	"Not the inside. The outside of his building looks quite
expensive. I'll bet his place looks a lot better than mine."

	"The main difference is that Randy's is bigger. He has a lot more
space, room for a lot more furniture and things."

	"Things like a...hot tub?"

	"Well, yes..."

	David realized that Thad was showing a bit of jealousy about his
impression of the two apartments...and suddenly knew that it was more than
just furniture and decor compliments that Thad was vying for. David decided
it would be better and nicer if he set Thad's mind at ease about a few
things.

	"Actually, Thad, I like what you've done with your apartment much
better than Randy's. Randy's is a bit too modern for me, coming from a
Virginia household and all. I mean, Randy has all these wild vivid
colors...chartreuse, hot pink, lime green, neon blue...hell, I'm sure if I
hadn't passed out drunk, the colors would have glowed in the dark and kept
me awake. Yours is more to my taste."

	"You aren't bullshittiing me, are you?" His self-doubt was almost
child-like.

	"That's the one trait Mark and I got from our parents which we've
always honored. We don't bullshit and we don't lie."

	"Then can I be nosey and ask a personal question?"

	"Sure, but you might not like the answer because I will answer you
truthfully and from the hip!"

	"I...I sat here all night alone, knowing that you were with
Randy...and Randy does have quite a reputation as, well.... I'm...I'm just
wondering how you felt when you woke up...besides your hangover?"

	"You mean, did Randy attack me in my sleep or did we sleep together
and have sex?"

	The fact that David could be so upfront with it momentarily floored
Thad. "Since you worded it so bluntly,...yes!"

	"I swear to you that I slept on one of his sofas all by myself all
night while Randy slept in his bedroom...and NO, I was not attacked during
my sleep. I think my ass would be sore, wouldn't it?"

	"More than likely."

	"In that case, I guess I'm still a virgin. Apparently, Randy is
more of a gentleman than most people give him credit for."

	"I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that, David."

	"You were worried about Randy and me?"

	"Yes," Thad said, dropping his head. "I've never known what it was
to feel jealousy before, but I had a big dose of it last night."

	"Jealous of me and Randy?"

	"No, you and George Clooney!...OF COURSE, RANDY, you shithead!"

	"Thad, just because we kissed does not mean that you and I are in a
relationship. It was just a kiss. I'm straight and have no desire to enter
into a gay situation. Maybe that kiss gave you the wrong signal about me."

	"What was I supposed to think? It was no ordinary kiss. I mean, we
touched tongues and everything. We let our hands roam all over each other's
body. Just what kind of signal was it that you were sending me?"

	"The wrong one, I guess...and I'm totally and completely
sorry. Whatever 'happened[... happened...no build up and no aftermath. OH,
God! Don't tell me that you redecorated all this for me? Please tell me
that you did it for yourself."

	"Of course I did it for myself. I mean, hell, you'll be going back
to Virginia in a couple of days and I'll never see you again! So why the
fuck would I do all this for a...a...VISITOR?"

	"Thank God. You had me worried there for a second."

	"Well, set your mind at ease. I did it for me."

	"I...I saw Chris driving away when Randy and I arrived. Did you
discuss the service for Mark and Alex with him?"

	"No, he was here on another matter."

	"Oh?"

	"Yeah, one of the boys who helps him on his meal routes vanished
early this morning. He just disappeared and no one's heard from him."

	"It must have been one of the three that I met at Steve's!"

	"At any rate, he wanted me to unofficially look for him in a
detective capacity."

	"Are you going to?"

	"Hell, yes. He helped me look for Alex night before last. It's the
least I can do to look for Andy."

	"That's his name?"

	"Yeah."

	"You and Alex were a couple. Are Chris and Andy more than just
'priest and helper'?"

	"I don't think so...at least not on Chris' part."

	"By putting it that way, you sound as if Andy has more feeling for
Chris than Chris does toward Andy."

	"I didn't say that...but you do have a pretty good instinct for a
non-detective."

	"Maybe we should just pool our resources and look for Andy
together."

	"Why would you want to help?"

	"Like you, I feel I owe something to Chris for all the things he
did for Mark."

	"Well, if you really want to, I wouldn't mind having some company
in my car...Oh, about your suitcase...I see you have another one now to go
with your first one."

	"What about them?"

	"Would you like me to load them into my car and drop you off at a
hotel so that you can check in?"

	"Are you reneging on your offer of letting me stay here tonight?"

	"Hell, no! I'd love for you to stay! You can show me how to use
some of those fancy new gadgets in my new kitchen."

	"I'd love to, Thad..."

	"Then let's stop by St. Thaddeus and see Chris; talk with him; and
then go looking for Andy."

	"I'm game. Let's do it!"

	Like two best pals, they closed up the new apartment, kidded each
other all the way to the car. They kept the conversation light and joking
all the way to the church to see Chris. Neither Thad nor David could say a
word as they stood dumbfounded when they saw Chris on his knees weeping
loudly as they entered the church's kitchen.

	"Father Chris?" Thad called to him in a quiet manner.

	"Please, don't come in, whoever you are. I don't want anyone to see
me like this..."


<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

(To be continued in Chapter Ten of "As I Remember Him".)