Date: Fri, 22 Jul 2005 16:21:28 EDT
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: briarwood-8
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.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"BRIARWOOD"
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
R.S.V.
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
literary enhancement
by
Les Martin
<><><><><>
BOOK ONE
Chapter Eight
<><><><><><><><><><>
"...crazy business this,
this life we're livin'.
Can't complain about the time we're given.
With so little to be sure of in this world,
there was you."
Stephen Sondheim,
"Anyone Can Whistle"
Act III (1964}
<><><><><><><><>
Less than twenty minutes elapsed between the phone call telling of
Kendall's accident and Cliff and Roger arriving at the hospital. The
waiting room outside the ER was all but empty which was probably normal for
a Tuesday, considering the lateness of the hour and the size of Briarwood.
Off in the corner by a shaded table lamp sat Kitty Marsden, breaking the
law by smoking a cigarette and using the dirt in a potted philodendron as
an ashtray. The three-way bulb in the lamp was on the lowest setting,
making it difficult to see the expression on her face or to focus in on her
mood. She and Cliff had parted on friendly terms after they had reached an
'agreement' on Troy...and since he was her priest and shepherd of the fold
at St. Genesius, it was his duty to comfort her. Cliff walked over to her
quietly, leaving Roger by the nurses' station.
"Kitty?" he spoke to her quietly.
She looked up to see who had disturbed her world. At first she
simply stared, her face seemingly lacking expression of any kind, but her
eyes suddenly blazed, then narrowed in rage before she bellowed, "YOU
BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! I BLAME YOU FOR
EVERYTHING THAT'S HAPPENED TO KENDALL!" she shouted over and over.
Thank God there was no one else in the room to hear her vocal
attack. Roger started to join Cliff, but stopped and retreated, not wanting
to complicate matters by making her think she was being outnumbered or
'ganged up on'.
"Kitty! Kitty! Kitty! PLEASE! Try to control yourself and tell me
how Kendall is!" Cliff said, trying to restrain her flailing elbows.
"HE'S DYING! THAT'S HOW HE IS! HE'S DYING, THANKS TO YOU!"
"Go on, blame whatever you like on me...Shout it out and get it out
of your system!" he said, once again trying to control her.
Her last yell diminished into a wail, ending in a whimper as she
sank into the orange vinyl chair next to the corner table. Her make-up was
already streaked from the tears she apparently had shed earlier. It was
interesting to note that no matter how bad the news or what time it came,
Kitty would take time to dress for the occasion. She had donned an
expensive black sheath crepe dress, black hose, 5" high heels, and matching
diamond necklace, bracelet, and earrings. The Princess Nyla cosmetics had
the face looking perfect when she left her manor to come to the emergency
room. Now her face was a mess! She didn't care. If she didn't look her
best, it must be the fault of the make-up manufacturer. She would just
switch brands, that's all!
When her sobbing began to subside, Cliff stooped down to face her.
"Kitty, if you can calm down long enough, could you tell me what
happened?"
"It was that goddamned bicycle!! That's what it was! God as my
judge, I'm going to sue that bicycle shop tomorrow! And that TRUCK!! That
goddamned truck and that goddamned truck driver who wasn't watching where
he was going!! I'll see to it that he never drives a truck again as long as
he lives...and I'll make sure that the company he works for goes out of
business...immediately!!" Again, her volume level elevated.
"Where was Kendall when it happened?" Cliff asked calmly.
"At the corner of Wilder and Willow according to the
police. Kendall pulled onto the main thoroughfare there on his bicycle, and
this lunatic didn't slam on his brakes fast enough to avoid hitting
Kendall. I don't know how fast the truck was traveling but it must have
been flying, looking at the broken pieces of the bicycle...that
BICYCLE...that FUCKING GODDAMNED BICYCLE!!! You know he bought it without
my knowledge, don't you?" She yelled at Cliff.
"No, Kitty, I didn't. As a matter of fact, I didn't even know he
owned a bicycle until earlier this evening." Cliff said.
"He bought it to ride to your idiotic acolyte rehearsal and said he
wanted to prove to you that he could be like one of the other boys. So he
had Lars, our chauffeur, drive him over to Barlowe County to a bike shop
there. Kendall bought it with his own money. As far as I know, he had never
ridden a bicycle before. I blame you for talking him into that acolyte
business. He didn't need that! He had plenty of other things in his life
without stooping to that!"
"But don't you see, Kitty," Cliff tried again. "Kendall was doing
what HE wanted to do for a change. I hate to say this to you, Kitty, but
Kendall is lonely and wants the chance to be around boys his own age. He
needs acceptance by his peers. He wants to do the same type thing other
boys his age do. That's why he wanted to become an acolyte. There is no age
or class distinction when it comes to wanting to serve the Lord."
"Oh, he didn't stop at just wanting to serve the Lord as an
acolyte, he wants to be like you and become a priest!"
"What's wrong with that?" Cliff asked, trying not to become
defensive.
"Becoming a priest is beneath his station in society!"
"Kitty, please don't take offense, but that's YOUR place in
society, not Kendall's. He wants to be an ordinary boy who does ordinary
things with other boys his age."
Seeing that things had quieted a bit between Kitty and Cliff, Roger
thought it was safe to come over and join them.
"Mrs. Marsden, I was so sorry to hear about Kendall's accident."
Roger said in a low tone.
"Who are you?" she snapped.
"Kitty, this is my best friend, Roger."
"How do you do?" Roger offered.
"Not so well, thank you." she replied coldly. She extracted an
embroidered handkerchief from her purse to dab at her eyes.
"Is there any further word on Kendall's condition at the nurses'
station?" Cliff asked Roger.
Roger glanced at Kitty before answering privately, "I'm not sure if
the doctors and nurses were talking about Kendall, but I heard one of them
ask if anyone had called a minister".
"Please excuse me for a moment, Kitty...Roger just told me I had a
call at the nurses' desk."
Cliff walked to the station at the fastest pace possible without
arousing her suspicions.
"Excuse me," Cliff asked the nurse in almost a whisper. "but my
friend said a few minutes ago one of you was asking about a minister...did
this concern the boy on the bicycle?"
"Your name wouldn't be 'Father Cliff', would it?"
"Why, yes." Cliff answered.
"The boy in the bed over there was asking for you...his name is
Kendall."
"Can I go in to see him?"
"Yes, go right on in. You'd better hurry, though! Be sure to put
on a gown and mask before you enter."
Cliff grabbed the nearest green gown and mask he could find in the
adjacent scrub room and pushed on the right side of the swinging doors,
running into a doctor or an intern.
"Hello, I'm Father Cliff and I think that your patient has been
asking for me."
"He has, Father." the doctor answered.
"How is he? Is he conscious?"
"For the moment, yes, but if there's any kind of prayer or final
rite that you offer, you'd better begin now. The kid won't last an hour."
A chill went through Cliff's body and he stopped dead in his
tracks. In his years at seminary, he had never performed an Extreme Unction
or last rites ceremony. DAMN! He didn't have his missal in his pocket nor
was he sure if he remembered the words of that litany. In these dire
circumstances, Cliff didn't think anyone, including God, would know the
difference if he were to read the 'Yellow Pages' instead.
He managed to walk over to the raised examining table where they
had been trying to do their medical wonders on Kendall. Cliff saw him
trying to focus as he approached the young lad. Kendall even managed to
smile in spite of the tubes in his nose and mouth. He had patches and wires
leading from his body to several beeping and flashing monitors and an IV in
each arm...one pumping blood and the other dripping some kind of clear
fluid...either saline or some kind of sedative or painkiller or a
combination of all three.
When Cliff got to his side. Kendall barely raised his hand, wanting
Cliff to place it in his. Cliff held it and felt a faint squeeze as
Kendall's fingers tried to respond to Cliff's. Kendall's eyes were not
fixed but they had a glassy film covering his baby blues. His floppy blonde
hair was ruffled and tangled from dried blood, gravel, dirt, road tar, and
bits of concrete. The right side of his face was skinned, bruised, and
swollen. His torso was covered with bloody sheets where the doctors had
unsuccessfully attempted some life-saving procedure. His breathing was
labored, as indicated by his short gasps and pants. But in spite of all
these things, he somehow looked complacent and easy.
Staring at Cliff through all the medical apparatus, Kendall managed
to utter, "Hi, Father Cliff."
"Hi, big guy," Cliff replied with a lump in his throat that felt
about the size of a ceremonial orb.
"I'm glad you came."
"I told you I would be here whenever you needed me."
"I kinda messed up everything, didn't I?"
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"I'm not sure. I left your house riding my bicycle and I got as
far as Willow Street and I decided to turn right on Wilder Street and there
was this truck coming...I guess the truck driver didn't see me 'cause I
didn't see him, either, until he was about 10 feet away from me. Anyway, it
wasn't his fault... I should've looked both ways...but I didn't. It hurt so
bad when the truck hit me."
"Do you hurt now?" Cliff asked.
"Just a little. It hurts to breathe, though. It's like I can't get
enough air in my lungs to raise my chest up."
"Well, try not to talk...don't waste your energy."
"Can you say a prayer for me?"
"Sure."
"I think you need to say that final one, if you know what I
mean..."
As Cliff inhaled, he heard himself gasp, hoping Kendall hadn't
heard it too.
"It's all right, Father, I know I'm not gonna make it."
"Kendall, don't talk like that. You've got a whole staff of doctors
and nurses here, just to take care of you and make you better."
"Father, I've seen enough movies in my life to know when a person
is dying, so please don't try to make me feel differently...Please?"
"All right..."
"Would you do me a favor and tell Troy again how sorry I am?"
"Troy knows that, Kendall."
"And would you tell Jason and Tony at the church I'm sorry I won't
get to serve mass with them."
"I'll tell them."
"I wish I could've, just one time, put on that robe and vestments."
"Maybe you still will when you get well and come back to church."
Kendall tried to cough up the mucous that was keeping the air flow
blocked, but he was suddenly too weak to cough. Cliff saw a look of fright
invade Kendall's eyes and a white aura seemed to wash across his face,
"Do you want me to call your mom in to see you?" Cliff asked with a
controlled urgency.
"No, Father Cliff, I only want you...and I want you to say that
prayer. Would you do that for me?"
"Sure, big guy, but I'll pray only if you promise to keep your eyes
open this one time....all right?"
Kendall weakly nodded his head while Cliff reached into the coffers
of his memory for the words...any words would do...as long as they were
appropriate for the moment.
"O Lord, look with compassion upon this, Thy servant.
Fill him with Faith, Hope, Love and repentance,
Keep from him the powers of darkness and establish
him in the Communion of the Catholic Church.
Wash him from all his sins, let his end be full of
peace and comfort, and in the hour of departure
may his soul rest in Thee, unto Everlasting Life.
Amen."
The hand Cliff was holding slowly withdrew limply.
The Kendall Cliff had known and loved...was gone.
<><><><><><><><>
"...sometimes people leave you, halfway through the
wood..."
Stephen Sondheim
"Into the Woods"
Act II (1987)
<><><><><><><><>
Cliff slowly turned to walk back into the waiting room where Kitty
Marsden sat with Roger. As soon as she saw Cliff, she immediately sensed
what had just happened and let out a loud wail that he would remember the
rest of his life. When Cliff was a child, the air raid siren in the town
square was the most terrifying sound he knew. But in that moment, Kitty's
scream replaced it in his mind as she rose to her feet. Roger jumped up to
steady her if it was needed.
She suddenly made a lunge toward Cliff and began beating his chest
with her fists. "YOU BASTARD!! HE'S DEAD!! MY SON IS DEAD AND IT'S YOUR
FAULT!"
"Mrs. Marsden, PLEASE!" Roger screamed, trying to pull her off
Cliff.
"MAY GOD DAMN YOU TO ETERNAL HELL FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!"
On the last cry, she sank to her knees and began to sob, loudly and
mournfully. Roger got on his knees to hold her. Her face dropped onto his
chest, muffling her cries. She stayed there until she was only whimpering.
Cliff's eyes were transfixed on Roger's as he sat there looking back at
Cliff, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. Cliff didn't mind being the
brunt of her anger. It was in her nature to find someone to blame other
than herself...always someone else---never herself. Kitty Marsden was
incapable of accepting the blame for anything.
Cliff thought back to a few hours ago when Kendall had left the
rectory...happy, hopeful. and having a feeling that he had been forgiven by
Troy for any wrong he might have done. Seeing him on his bicycle, Cliff
realized there had been a definite change in Kendall's life. His
determination to find his own way. topped with the promise that next Sunday
he would be serving his church and his God as an acolyte of St. Genesius
Church, had given Cliff a memory he would treasure forever ...and now
THIS!...this tragedy!...It was times like these that made even the
staunchest believers have their doubts in the Almighty or in His masterful
plan. Cliff remembered the scene from the movie, "Pete and Tillie" in which
Carol Burnett and Walter Matthau had had a child, late in their lives, and
the child died. In her desperate grief, Carol went into their backyard and
screamed at God, "You son-of-a-bitch! Why?! Why?! Why?!".
When Kitty had calmed down enough to leave. Roger and Cliff walked
her to her limousine and told Lars, the chauffeur, what had happened and
asked if he would drive her home. Cliff gave Lars his home phone number to
call in case she needed him. The limousine drove away, leaving Cliff
standing there with Roger's arm around his shoulder.
"You wanna go home, babe?" Roger asked softly.
"In a little while...I need to do a couple of things before I go
home and break the news to Troy. First, would you go inside and ask the
nurse if she knows which funeral home will receive the body? If she knows,
I need to go by the church for a few minutes. There's something I want to
pick up there."
"All right, babe," Roger said, " Wait for me."
Roger went back inside the hospital leaving Cliff standing alone in
the dark parking lot. Cliff wanted to cry. He wanted to look up to the sky
and yell as Tillie had, "Why? You, son-of-a-bitch...why?"
When Roger returned, Cliff was already sitting in the passenger
seat of the Lexus. Roger opened his door and asked "Are you all right?"
"No, but I'll say I am, anyway." Cliff replied.
"Chappell's." he said,
"Pardon?"
"Chappell's Funeral Home is where Kendall is to be sent."
"Thank you, Then I'll need to go by the church for about two
minutes,"
"No problem." he said and drove his car toward St. Genesius'.
Cliff went in the back entrance of the church and made his way in
the darkness to the ante-room just behind the altar and picked up the few
things he needed, put them in a sack, and returned to the car.
"Where to? Home?" Roger asked.
"No, I would like to stop by Chappell's first, if you don't mind."
"Mind? Cliff, I'd drive you to the moon and back if you asked me."
"God, I'm so glad you're here, Rog...but I feel so bad about
involving you in so much tragedy....You leave your church, give up your
priesthood, come to see me for support and solace and instead find me
involved in AIDS care, car wrecks, blackmail schemes, gay matchmaking,
house renovations---and now this...Kendall."
"I'm just glad I'm here so that you didn't have to go through all
of it by yourself...That's my main purpose in life...to always be here with
you and use any power within my means to make you happy."
"You DO make me happy, Rog...I just hope I'm enough for you."
"Since we were kids, you were all I ever wanted in the world...and
now that I have you...hell or high water won't ever break us up."
"Roger, I pray to God that we'll have a long life together. When
death strikes as suddenly as it has with Kendall, and almost with Troy, it
just reminds me of how uncertain the future can be."
"Cliff, look at me. Each new day is a lifetime. When we awake in
the morning, we realize that we made it through the night and we've lived
to see a brand new day. Millions will die today. Over half won't even be
aware it's coming. My mother and father...did they know that they would not
live to see their airplane land safely when they boarded it to go on their
second honeymoon? No way! Few of us ever really know what's going on inside
our bodies. Will a minute piece of stored cholesterol break free from an
artery and try to pass freely through the heart? We get up in the dark at
night to go to the bathroom and accidentally hit our shin on the bed. Do we
ever get concerned that that slight bump in the dark can cause an embolism
and a day, a week, a month later, we have a heart attack or CVA without
ever knowing what caused it? We drive from our house to the grocery store
to pick up bread and milk, never knowing that some idiot driver on a side
street is going to run a red light and crash into the side of our
car. Freak and bizarre incidents which are life-threatening happen every
minute of every hour of every day. Then, of course, there are the soldiers
and sailors, fighting wars around the world. Do they go off to battle
daily, knowing this might be their last day? No matter where or how you
look, life has always been and will always be uncertain. Remember, 'Carpe
diem'? Seize the day! I've always said seize the moment, make it
count. It's not just an idiom when you hear, 'live each day as if it were
your last', because it just might be. And that, my love, is why every
moment we have together, every moment we share must count! It must be
filled with meaning, with no regrets, because the next moment might not be
there."
"Jesus Christ! Roger! That's one of the most beautiful sermons I've
ever heard...although I know you didn't mean it to be a sermon. But I know
you're right. Every moment between us WILL be filled with love and
happiness in order that we can brace ourselves and stand up to the
unexpected occurrences, such as Kendall's accident. Dear God! Why did it
take all these years for us to become one?"
"We always were one, Cliff, even though we were miles apart for a
while."
"Yes, but I was so foolish. I pursued sex with other guys when I
should have been thinking about you the whole time."
"Cliff, an Anglican priest does not take a vow of celibacy. You're
a man with a man's needs. Sex is one of them! You had no idea that I would
ever show up here in Briarwood. Hell, if I'd known that sex was that
important to you, I'd've called you every night and we could have had phone
sex. So don't feel guilty about any sexual encounters you might have
partaken in before I arrived. I...I had a few indiscretions myself during
the past few years."
"Oh?"
"Now don't go trying to pry, to find out with whom they were or how
many because it doesn't matter. I don't want to know who you did what with,
either. The important thing is...we have each other now...NOW is NOW! If we
both go to sleep tonight and awaken tomorrow, we'll have each other then as
well...and if 'forever' happens to be forty or fifty years...we'll still be
together then. Perhaps, being in a car, driving to a funeral home in a time
of sorrow, is not the time or place for a commitment ceremony, but I'm
vowing my eternal love and devotion to you this minute...whether we're
alive and together the next minute, tomorrow, or fifty years from now,
there will be no other love in my life except you. Cliff, I firmly believe
that if there is a God, when He created you and created me, he made two
halves of one person and one soul. He meant us to be joined together and to
be one as long as we're both alive."
"I...I can't top that speech. I remember the movie, 'Ghost' where
Demi Moore told Patrick Swayze how much she loved him and Patrick was at a
loss of words, just as I am now. He said, 'Ditto'...and if you can take
that little five letter word as being the fondest reply from my
heart...then all I can say back to you is...Roger, 'ditto'."
"Cliff, I can't wait to get you home and hold you in my arms! With
my parents and grandparents all dead, you're actually all I have in my
life...and what's more, you're all I want in my life!"
Tears had filled Cliff's eyes. He paused, swallowed the lump in his
throat, and softly said, "Ditto, my darling".
Roger smiled warmly back at Cliff and squeezed gently on his thigh
and said, "Come on, let's go see if I can find Chappell's Funeral Home. I
think I saw it down on Sycamore Street."
"You're right...It's only a few blocks more."
Except for one light in the back of the building, Chappell's was
dark, being that it was now five o'clock in the morning. Since Cliff had to
be back at the church by 6:30 to get ready for 7:00 AM Morning Prayer
service, he could only spend a few minutes inside Chappell's, then rush
home, shave and shower, pausing only to break the bad news to Troy and Jay,
then return to St. Genesius'. When he knocked on the door at Chappell's, he
was greeted by the 'friendly' undertaker (and the embalmer). Cliff told him
what he wanted, handed him a sack, and left.
When the two of them arrived home, Jay was standing in the doorway
waiting. He had not slept a wink, since he had not known why Cliff and
Roger had left so suddenly in the middle of the night, without a word to
him or to Troy.
"I've been worried sick...where did you go?" Jay asked, like a
typical 'waiting' parent.
"Is Troy sleeping?" Cliff asked, ignoring Jay's inquiry.
"He's been asleep for hours...after I gave him a 'manual
sedative'...Now tell me where you've been or I'll just have to go turn on
the TV and find out for myself," Jay joked.
"Jay, I want you to know I love you, but I'm in a hurry and the
things I would like to say to you, Roger will say for me, while I clean up
to go to work."
"Well, excuuuuse me...I'm only the AIDS maid."
"Jay, quit clowning," Roger said, "Sit down, please. I'm afraid I
have some rather bad news for you...well, for Troy, really...and maybe you
can help us find a way to tell Troy without upsetting him too much."
"My God! What's happened?" Jay asked, changing to a serious tone,
his artificial brittleness dropping away.
While Cliff shaved, bathed and put on fresh clothes, Roger began
describing the events that had transpired after they had received the phone
call from the hospital. About midway through Roger's narrative, Cliff heard
a muted sob from Jay, and then he heard Jay weeping.
"Oh, my God...how can we tell this to Troy?" Jay asked Roger as he
began to weep some more. Maybe no one had ever used the phrase to describe
Jay, but at times, he had the makings of a real drama queen, but in the
nicest, most sincere way. Despite his physical condition, he reveled in
other people's tragedy...whether he knew them or not. He just loved to
express emotion...loudly. No matter what the mood was, Jay was always
ready to play out the scene, but never revealing how deeply felt the
emotion really was.
By now, Cliff was ready to leave for the church service. He asked
Roger if he would stay home in case Troy awoke. Cliff asked him to wait,
if possible, until he returned around 9:00 AM to talk to Troy. Roger said
he would try to get Jay to go to bed...as he needed his rest, too. The last
thing either of them needed now was for Jay to suffer a relapse....'That
WOULD be the straw that..' Cliff left and drove to the church. His lips
tasted of hot chocolate from Roger's mouth, from the kiss he gave Cliff as
he went out the door. Cliff was sorry about Kendall, but being human, he
was even more appreciative that he still had Roger.
Afterward, Cliff didn't remember one word he said at Morning
Prayer. It was too early for any of the attending parishioners to know
anything about Kendall's death because the accident had happened too late
to make the morning newspaper. At the end of the service, Cliff excused
himself from the small crowd, saying he had a pressing appointment to
attend to. Then he rushed home, hoping against hope that Troy was still
asleep...and at the same time. wishing Troy was already awake and Roger had
told him about Kendall. At least Cliff would have been spared Troy's
initial shock.
When Cliff arrived home, he went into the kitchen. Roger said he
had just heard a report on the TV news about the accident. Something Cliff
had failed to find out was what had happened to the truck driver. Roger
said the news was bad. According to the Channel 8 morning news anchor, as
soon as the ambulances arrived, the two paramedics that were tending to the
truck driver said he had suffered a heart attack and died on the way to the
hospital. Cliff's first reaction was that he was sorry the truck driver was
dead, but the poor man would never know how lucky he was to have died,
rather than face a lifetime of Kitty Marsden's wrathful vengeance... Hell,
he probably was better off dead!
At ten o'clock, they heard the tinkling of Troy's bedside bell,
signaling that he was awake and needed to go to the bathroom. Cliff told
Roger to finish his third cup of hot chocolate, that he would go tend to
Troy's morning constitutional. Cliff hoisted Troy from his bed into his
wheelchair and took him into the bathroom. Troy managed to stand up and
stabilize himself by holding one hand on a towel rack and the other on the
lavatory. This left Cliff with the task of reaching his hand into Troy's
pajama fly and pulling out his morning erection and pointing it toward the
toilet bowl while Troy relieved himself. Then Cliff gave the penis a final
shake and a squeeze. Troy smiled at Cliff and Cliff winked back. Cliff
wheeled him into the kitchen where Roger waited to give Cliff support in
what he was about to say to Troy.
Cliff prefaced his news by saying he never knew why things happened
the way they do. Troy thought Cliff was referring to HIS accident or Jay's
unfortunate curse, but as soon as Cliff mentioned Kendall, it was like Troy
already knew what Cliff was about to reveal...like he'd had a premonition.
He was already in tears before Cliff told him about the tragic accident and
its even more tragic outcome. Roger moved closer to Troy and held his
hand. The further Cliff went with the story, the tighter Troy squeezed
Roger's hand, so that by the time Cliff was finished, Roger's hand had
turned white from lack of circulation from the pressure Troy was applying.
The first thing Troy said was. "My God, you mean that fucking bitch
blamed YOU for Kendall's death?"
"She didn't know what she was saying, Troy." Cliff said.
"The hell she didn't! She makes life hell for everyone within her
reach and she always blames someone else for the misfortunes she
bestows. Kendall lived in a nightmare every day of his life! I didn't know
he had gotten a bicycle, but at least it shows he had the courage to try to
escape from her clutches."
"Oh, Cliff, before I forget to tell you," Roger interrupted. "while
you were at church, the man from Chappell's funeral home called and said
that it would be a closed-coffin service. Once he had finished the
embalming, the casket would be sealed and no one, not even Kitty, would
view the body...on her instructions, I suppose. He also said to tell you
that, because of the casket being sealed, he would be able to do as you
asked."
Cliff stood there proudly smiling. Roger's curiosity got the best
of him.
"What in hell did you ask him to do?" Roger asked.
"You remember I asked you to drop me off at the church for a
minute? You recall I brought out a sack and took it into the funeral home?
I told the undertaker, if, by chance, the coffin WAS to remain closed,
would he dress Kendall in the attire I had brought. Kitty will never know
that her son was buried in a black cassock and a white robe...the same that
the other acolytes wear every Sunday."
<><><><><><><><><><><>
Kitty saw to it that Kendall's funeral was the event of the season!
She hadn't waited for friends and well-wishers to send flowers, she had
flown a floral designer in from Cypress Gardens. Florida, to fill every
nook and cranny of St. Genesius with imported orchids from Brazil, tulips
from Holland, hibiscus from Hawaii, and lilies from Switzerland. With the
money she had spent on flowers, a condo could have been built to house the
entire homeless population of Briarwood, but she'd never understand what
she COULD have done in her son's memory. Even the platitude, "Funerals are
for the living", didn't apply in this case. This showy array of
extravagance was more like a Cecil B. DeMille production directed by
K. Marsden. The church was overflowing with "spectacle-seekers". One
account on TV said there were more people outside, trying to get in, than
there were inside, trying to celebrate the mass.
Cliff had asked Roger to don another set of vestments and assist in
the ceremony. Roger complied immediately just because Cliff had asked. Jay
had kept Troy sitting in his wheelchair inside one of the smaller rooms of
the outer foyer, waiting until the pews were all filled before entering and
taking a place in the back of the nave. This would avoid the possible
'meeting' of Troy and Kitty.
Even though Jason and Tony had never really met Kendall, they knew
of him and his desire to join them with their duties. Maybe it was just
emotional empathy, but Cliff noticed each of them wiping a tear from his
eyes from time to time during the service.
Kitty had requested that the choir sing, "The Shepherd of the
Lambs" which she claimed was Kendall's favorite. Cliff had never heard of
the hymn which made him wonder about its popularity on the top-ten hymnal
charts. Cliff thought to himself, 'Oh, well, whatever Kitty
wants....Kitty...etc'. Both Rob and Timmy had taken off from their jobs to
sing in the choir for which Cliff was very grateful. With all the guests
and the media attending, he didn't want the church to be judged by the nest
of tone-deaf hymnal-holders that filled the seats in the choir loft every
Sunday.
Down in front of the altar, amid the display from the botanical
gardens, sat the bier holding Kendall's blue metallic casket, complete with
twenty-four karat gold handles. Not knowing if she had six friends to ask,
Kitty had hired six male escorts to act as pallbearers, wearing powder blue
tuxedos, the trousers possible a bit too snug, with tiny birds of paradise
buds pinned to the lapels. At exactly 1:59 PM, one minute before Cliff was
to start the mass, Kitty made her grand entrance down the center aisle in a
black velvet dress, designed by Schiaperelli, just for the occasion. With
her coiffed head erect, she walked somberly to her usual cordoned-off pew.
Once she was in place, she nodded to Cliff to begin the funeral. During
the entire service she never once showed any emotion, nor did she ever look
at Cliff. Her eyes remained fixed on the casket.
Throughout the church, there was only a minimal amount of sniffing
and nose-blowing. Everyone was too taken back; they sat looking aghast at
the spectacle. Occasionally Cliff looked at Roger who raised his brows and
rolled his eyes to give Cliff an 'Oh, brother!' look.
Precisely sixteen minutes later, the entire service was over. There
was an old saying-- "Don't be late for an Anglican funeral or you'll miss
the whole thing.". No one except the pallbearers, Roger, and Cliff were
allowed onto the grounds of the Marsden estate for the burial. It was
strictly off-limits to everyone else. Kitty had picked a spot about 500
yards from the window of Kendall's bedroom to inter his body. Cliff
recited three brief prayers and that was it! The last part of the funeral
was over. Cliff went over to take Kitty's hand but before he could get
near her, she turned and headed back toward her mansion. Cliff looked at
Roger and he shook his head and looked at the ground.
The two of them got in the Lexus and went home to await Jay's
review of the gala event. Would it be 'thumbs up'? They would soon know.
When Cliff and Roger entered the house, they were surprised to find
everything quiet...with no Jay or Troy in sight.
"I wonder where they are?" Cliff asked Roger.
"Maybe Jay had trouble loading Troy and his wheelchair into your
car?"
Cliff had presumed that Jay knew how to drive when Cliff loaned him
his Toyota.
"That's strange. Your car is parked in the garage," said Roger.
Cliff walked down the hallway and noticed Troy's new bedroom door
was closed. He pressed his ear to the abutment and heard the two of them
mumbling in a low quiet tone. Cliff hesitated to knock after he heard Troy
crying. Jay was doing his best to comfort him, Cliff decided it was best
to leave the two of them alone.
"Oh, my God! Why? Why? Why?" Troy asked Jay.
"Things like this aren't meant to be questioned, Troy." Jay
replied.
"Jay, would you just hold me, please? I need to be held."
"Let me put you in bed and I can hold you better."
Jay helped Troy out of the wheelchair and pivoted him to sit on the
side of the bed. He placed two pillows behind Troy and eased him into a
reclining position.
"How's that? Better?" Jay asked.
"Much...now will you hold me?"
"There's nothing I'd like better."
"Jay, how long has it been since you've actually...been
with...someone?"
"Lonnie died a little over six months ago and we'd hardly been
intimate in almost a year before that."
"Weren't you ever lonely?"
"I was until I met Cliff down by the lake. I haven't been lonely
since then."
"I mean lonely from..being..with..someone special to you?"
"You mean like boyfriend-boyfriend...that kind of lonely?"
"Yeah."
"Sure, I stay lonely. Once you get diagnosed with the big
high-five, no one even wants to be your friend any longer."
"I'm sorry, but why do you call it the big "high-five'?"
"You know, the Roman numeral..."V" for five. You just put a 'hi' in
front of it or raise your hand high in the air, and you get,
'HI"--"FIVE'... H..I..V!"
"Shit, I should've been able to figure that out."
"Anyway, as I was saying, once you get 'it'...you're cast aside,
...ignored by everyone...your friends...parents...relatives... guys you
work with and drink with. No one wants you around."
"It must be devastating to become an outcast like that."
"Especially if you're used to being the life of the party, like I
was,"
"Do you think you'll ever find 'someone' again?"
"You mean...to love?"
"Yes."
"Nope! "It's just me from now on..."
"What if...what if 'someone' was to come into your life?"
"I'd run the other way...or run HIM away!"
"But just suppose there already WAS someone...someone who cares
about you deeply?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure I would discourage him."
"I think you're too late for that." Troy said, "There IS someone."
"WHO, for God's sake?"
"Me, Jay, if you'll have me."
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"No. I know in my present physical state, I can't love you the way
you would like...but, if I continue to get better and improve..."
"Troy, you're not listening! You're not aware of what you're
saying...I'm sick. I have AIDS. I probably will DIE from AIDS...and very
soon! Why would you want to waste your love on me? Our relationship is
doomed from the start!"
"Well, I don't think you're going to die today, and probably not
tomorrow or any time in the next week...There!---that gives us seven days
together, right there...but who's counting, love? Who's to say how much
time anyone will have with someone else. Kendall's accident should teach us
that. We never know from day to day if we or the ones we love will be
around tomorrow...but we can't stop living and we can't stop loving on that
premise...Every day can be a lifetime with someone you love....There's no
guaranteed life expectancy for anyone. Jay, I don't mind telling you that
I love you today...and IF we're both here twenty-four hours from now, then
I'll love you tomorrow...In life and love, we can only reach for one day at
a time...nothing more. That way, we don't waste the minutes we're
allotted. Every second counts." Troy finished his appeal.
Had Cliff and Roger just heard Troy's speech, they would both have
sworn Roger's Lexus had been bugged a few nights ago when Roger said
practically the same remarks to Cliff, almost verbatim.
Jay lay there for a long minute, looking at Troy.
"Are you trying to convince me that I should allow myself to love
one more time."
"Only if you can find someone to love you in return?"
"And you think...you think YOU'RE that 'someone'?"
"I'm saying I would love you if you'd let me. You see, Jay, I have
no one in my life either...I wasn't even aware I was gay until Kitty forced
me to have relations with Kendall."
"So you think you ARE gay, now?" Jay asked.
"Totally."
"Then I think you should wait until you meet someone who's healthy
before you give your love to him."
"I don't give a fuck how sick you think you are...It's your inner
person that I love...I could give two hoots in hell about sex...but even if
we had a sexual relationship, we're both intelligent enough to know how to
be safe."
"Instead of the blind leading the blind, with us it'd be more like
the terminally ill leading the crippled to the cemetery."
"That's the worst scenario...but even if it's logical...I don't
give a shit!...Let's face reality, Jay...You need someone and, in your
condition, you think your prospects are dismal...In my case, I, too, need
someone, and with my paralysis and unstable mental situation...no one is
going to woo me, either...so why can't two lonely people, people who need
and want to be loved, go forward together?...You were kidding Cliff the
other night about our planning a wedding with the Trocadero and Chippendale
guys...but I'm not kidding now...I would love to love you...and I would
love to have you love me back."
"Boy, you sure can paint a rosy picture for two guys who are
standing knee-deep in quicksand on the edge of a cliff."
"I've lived my whole life in uncertainty." Troy said. "Why change
now? Jay, please listen to me. You're bright, intelligent, caring. You've
waited on me hand and foot since I arrived. No one in my life could ever
like me enough to wipe my ass, but you have. I've watched you around Cliff
and Roger. They love you like a son. You've become a part of them---as
you've become a part of me. Granted, you have a few more feminine qualities
than I would look for if I had been looking for a man all my life. But in
the long run, since I've been heterosexual all my life, your slightly
feminine traits are actually appealing to me. As for your looks, I could
say you're beautiful because you really are...but instead, I'll say you're
a handsome 'looker'. You're a great cook! You're loyal, dependable,
trusting, extremely witty, and, oh, so lovable! What more could I want? I
just wonder if I can live up to your expectations in a male companion or
lover?"
"Do you think we could find a sexual compatibility?"
"If sex becomes an important issue, we'll just find a way to do
it!"
"I thought I was the one who talked too much, but I'm finding out
we have that in common as well. So would you just shut up and kiss me?" Jay
said.
"Whaddya think, Jay?" Troy seemed to be asking for a
commitment. "Think we could make a 'go' of it?"
"What do you say?"
"I say 'yes'!"
"If you're sure, then I say 'yes' too."
"What do you think Cliff and Roger will say if I tell them I want
you to move into my new bedroom?"
"Oh, shit! Don't tell Cliff! He'll be out on the street corner
looking for some other hopeless case to move into MY bedroom."
"Cliff IS pretty wonderful, isn't he? And so is Roger."
"Cliff's the greatest person who's ever entered my life...or at
least he was until this afternoon. Now I have someone else to focus my
attention on... you devil!." Jay said, with a grin.
"You think you love me a little?" Troy teased.
"Nope!...I love you a lot."
"I love you, too...and don't YOU forget it!"
Cliff was a practicing Anglican priest and was used to hearing all
kinds of confessions and declarations, but none quite as sincere as the
ones he had just overheard while at Troy's door. He thanked God they'd
'found' each other before he went back into the bedroom where Roger had
stretched out, recovering from the funeral.
"Did you find them?" he asked."
"Well, let's say, I 'heard them'".
"Well, what's going on?...Are they all right?"
"Yeah, you might say that."
"Cliff, what the fuck are you getting at?" Roger asked, his
patience wearing thin.
"I think we might have a spare bedroom available later tonight."
"Whaddya mean?...who's moving out?"
"No one's moving OUT!...Let's just say there's been a new merger in
our corporation."
"Is Troy worse?...Is Jay moving in to watch him closer?"
"No, it looks like the love bug has bitten both of them...and from
all indications, it appears to be mutual...and incurable!"
"Well, praise be to God!" Roger shouted and then they both laughed.
Cliff leaned over to kiss him when the fucking phone rang....AGAIN!
"Goddammit! Don't answer it, Cliff!...There's a limit on just how
much a person can take."
"It may be Lars, calling about Kitty. I gave him my number."
"Tell him we've moved and left no forwarding address."
With a feeling of great trepidation, Cliff slowly removed the
receiver from the cradle and placed it to his ear.
"Hello?...Oh, hi, Rob...Thank God it's you...I wanted to call you
anyway and thank you and Timmy for singing in the choir
this....what?...What?...When?...Oh my God!...Where is he now?...Have they
set a price on the bail?...How much?...Oh, fuck!...Well, are you all
right?...What would you like me to do?... OK, I will!...I'll talk to Roger
and we'll be right down...OK!!...Stop crying...and try not to
worry!...We'll work this out somehow! OK, we'll meet you there."
Cliff hung up the phone and stared blankly at Roger.
"Don't tell me!" Roger screamed. "I don't want to know!!!"
"That was Rob," Cliff said, quietly. "It's Timmy...he's been
arrested."
"GOD DAMN!! WHAT FOR?"
"He's been accused of molesting one of his students."
"DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!" Roger shouted. "Cliff, remind me to have
that goddamned phone disconnected the first thing in the morning!!!"
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(To be continued in "Briarwood" Book One-chapter nine)