Date: Thu, 2 Mar 2006 00:04:45 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: briarwood:i-will-lift-up-mine-eyes-71

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"
                             Copyright Ritchris, 2005

                          aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
                             Copyright Ritchris, 2003

                                Revised Version

                                A dramatic saga

                                      by

			        Ritch Christopher

                                  <><><><><>


		   	          BOOK SEVEN


                            "I WILL LIFT UP MINE EYES"

			       Chapter-Seventy-one


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

	The second day of Lee's disappearance from the Malone household was
the worst. Jake had given an Oscar-worthy performance, showing deep concern
about the whereabouts of his brother. Reverend Malone's interrogation of
Jake rivaled a judge from the medieval Inquisition. After hours of
questioning, William Malone lost his temper with Jake's denials and became
violent. After Jake's fortieth or fiftieth reply of "I don't know,
Dad. Honest!" William struck Jake's left cheek with the back of his
hand. The blow landed hard enough to knock Jake five feet, hitting the
floor with a thud. Jake tried to fight back his tears through his pain as
he stood up to face his dad.

	"Don't get up, you lying son of Jezebel! You KNOW where your
brother is and if I have to strike you down with God's might, I will do
so."

	"But, Dad," Jake pleaded. "Suppose he's been kidnapped or hit by a
car. Maybe he had a fainting spell and is lying out there in the desert
somewhere, unconscious and dehydrated! What makes you think he's run away?
I swear to you, I don't know where he is!"

	"I don't believe you," his father whispered. "This is something you
and Lee plotted against me and the church. He was the son of a whore, just
as you are. You both have that sinful streak your mother possessed! God
knew about her--He sent her to hell before she could completely corrupt
either of you. I made a vow to the Almighty that I would raise you
according to His teachings."

	"Dad, please stop saying those things about Mom!"

	"I'll say that and more. Apparently Lee wasn't cleansed in the
blood from some of her wild ways and notions. In biblical times, your
mother would've been stoned like the harlot that she was."

	"Dad, calling Mom a whore or harlot means she was having sex with
other men. I never saw her look at another man when she was alive."

	"Oh, no?" William continued. "I've never been sure that you are my
kid. There's no telling who she slept with before you were born."

	"But, Dad, even up to the time she died, she slept in the same bed
with you every night."

	"Yes, but by damn, I didn't touch her. She was vile and evil. She
was so caught up in desires and the ways of the flesh. I would've been
unclean if God thought I did things with her in the darkness of the
night. I never saw her with another man, myself, but I somehow felt that
Satan came into our bedroom while I was asleep and had his way with her."

	"Are you telling me that my real father is Satan?"

	"He might have been until I took you down to the river and washed
you in the blood of the Lamb. I didn't do that with Lee. I baptized him at
church when he was ten years old."

	"So you think I'm evil?"

	"Yes, and I'll beat hellfire and damnation out of you until you
tell me the truth about where your brother has gone."

	Once again, he slapped Jake, only harder and with more vengeance.

	"I prayed to the Lord this morning when your brother didn't come
home and I promised Him that I would fast and neither eat nor drink until
Lee returned. So I'm not going to buy groceries or make you any meals. If
you get hungry, you can go down to the back of one of the restaurants
downtown and eat out of the garbage cans with the rats and the stray dogs."

	Jake had never seen his father this angry. He remembered that he
had promised to send his lawn mowing money to Lee, once he knew where Lee
had gone, but now, Jake realized he would need some of his own money to eat
and survive on. His dad picked up his Bible and went into his room where he
pulled up a straight back chair and faced it toward the window that looked
over the main street in Fort Stockton. William would sit there and fast as
long as he had to.

	Jake quietly went into the bathroom to look at the cuts and bruises
on his face. The cool water, which always tasted of iron, burned him as he
splashed water on his face. He looked carefully at his image in the mirror
and thought how glad he was that Lee had left. Jake hadn't run away as Lee
had, and he knew that his father's anger would be twice as severe on
him. Jake knew he could take it. He was used to receiving blows to his face
and body playing football. But Lee's body was more delicate and tender. A
slap to Lee, like the one Jake had received from William, could cause
permanent damage to him.

	Jake also knew that it might be weeks or months if and when Lee
came back home...maybe never! How long would his dad stay angry and how
long could he fast before he collapsed from starvation? If Jesus Christ
could fast forty days in the desert, William Malone could do the same, or
at least he thought he could. That was God's way...that was Jesus'
way...and that would become William's way and, as far as William was
concerned, the doors at his church would remain closed and his faithful
followers could stay home and pray with him for the return of his prodigal
son.

	WHEN Lee came home, not if, because William was sure that, with his
prayers and show-of-faith fasting, Lee would have to come before the entire
congregation to repent and say how sorry he was for interfering with their
worship. That would be the first of many punishments William planned to
bestow on his son.


                   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"What are all these new sensations?  What's the secret they reveal?  I'm
not sure I understand But I like the way I feel.  Oh, why is it that every
time I close my eyes he's there?  The water shining on his skin, The
sunlight in his hair?  And all the while I'm thinking things That I can
never share with him.  I'm a bundle of confusion Yet it has a strange
appeal.  Did it all begin with him, And the way he makes me feel I like the
way he makes me feel..."


                     From the motion picture, "Yentl"
                          Lyrics by Alan and Marilyn Bergman
                          Music by Michel Legrand
                          Copyright 1983


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


	The beginning of romance for Doug and Charles in the den of Doug's
house was very exciting and stimulating for both of them. After half an
hour of kissing, petting--and half a bottle of Jack Daniels--Charles'
luggage was moved from the guestroom into Doug's bedroom.

	The cyber sex, which they had been practicing, was a good warm up
for what was to happen later, but for now, neither of them had realized the
possible effect of holding each other intimately. They had known for
several weeks about the lonely lifestyles that they were leading,
separately, miles apart. But their close embracing manifested to each his
need for physical love. They weren't strangers because in reality they had
been kin, all the years that Doug and Louise were married.

	Doug looked deeply into Charles' eyes for the first time and his
eyes were almost identical to Louise's. Touching Charles' lips with his own
was almost like kissing his deceased wife's lips, even down to a
similarly-crooked front tooth that both Louise and Charles possessed. Doug
felt it when his tongue entered his brother-in-law's mouth on its solo
exploration.

	Sexually, they were both aroused, almost from their first
touch. Neither of them had ever had experience in trying to satisfy another
male's sex organ. That part might be different from the sex they had
previously known, as they both had been married, both widowed, and both had
been one-hundred percent heterosexual.

	It was Charles who made the first move as he slowly lowered his
right hand from behind Doug's back and groped Doug where the fly of his
pants was protruding. Charles squeezed Doug's clothed penis and Doug felt
an electrical charge shoot through his body.

	Wanting Charles to know that he was not traumatized or stunned by
the grasp, Doug followed Charles' lead and grabbed Charles' crotch as well.

	"Want to stop?" Charles whispered into Doug's ear.

	"Only if you want me to stop, too."

	"May I go a step farther and unzip your pants? I would like to
touch the real you."

	"We could go into my bedroom and...remove our clothing. Would that
be going too far, too fast?" Doug asked.

	"I don't think so."

	"Maybe we should move your luggage into my room in case you wanted
to put on a robe or something."

	"By moving my luggage, is that an invitation to spend the night in
your room?"

	"I have a huge king-size bed...big enough for two men to
share--that is, if you'd like to."

	"I could think of nothing I would like more. I'd be pleased to
sleep in your bed with you."

	They stopped the unfamiliar groping for a moment as Doug took
Charles' hand. The two of them walked hand in hand down to the guest room
to retrieve the two suitcases, then retraced their steps, setting the bags
down beside Louise's big easy chair in the master bedroom.

	They stood three feet apart, each waiting for the other to make the
next move. Charles put his hand up to the knot of his tie and began
removing it. Doug did the same. Slowly they removed their jackets and
shirts. Charles sat down in the chair while Doug sat on the edge of the bed
as they took off their shoes and socks, both finishing about the same
time. Next, with hesitation, came the belt buckles and the pants. They were
both men. Men took off their pants in front of one another in many
different situations, gym locker rooms, changing rooms at swimming pools,
department stores, etc. They did that all the time, didn't they? But this
was somehow extremely difficult and different. They weren't just
undressing, they were getting naked in front of one another, each
bourgeoning forth a full erection.

	Both their demeanors were quite serious. It was Charles who
lightened the mood by making a slight joke.

	"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Charles said with a
twinkle in his voice. They both laughed.

	"We ARE acting a bit juvenile, aren't we?" Doug replied.

	"That's because we're doing things that young boys do. Something
that neither you nor I ever did, apparently."

	"What'll we do? Count to three and drop our trousers?" Doug asked
with chagrin.

	"My God, if dropping our trousers is going to become such a
spectacle, we could be here all night, each trying to out-wait the other."

	"Do you think we both need another drink before we proceed?"

	"No, let's be brave!" Charles said, quickly undoing his belt,
lowering his pants and stepping out of them. Doug's mirrored reaction only
put him a few seconds behind Doug as he stepped out of his trousers,
leaving them both with only their "raised" boxers.

	Again, there was a long hesitation before the next and final
article of clothing was removed.

	"You want me to turn out the lights?" Doug asked, trying not to
show his timidity.

	"Hell, no. I'm not ashamed of what I have to show, and neither
should you be!" Charles replied.

	Each of them grabbed the waistband of his own boxers, each fumbling
to get the elastic below his taut erection until each of them was totally
nude.  Both sets of eyes quickly lowered to get a look at the object of
embarrassed attraction.

	"My God!" Doug exclaimed, "they're about the identical size."

	"That's good, isn't it? Just something more that we have in..."

	"COMMON!" They said simultaneously and broke into laughter. Charles
took the initiative to walk toward Doug and resume kissing as their organs
began to get acquainted while bobbing together.

	Not knowing what to do next, Doug suggested, "Why don't I pull down
the covers and turn off the lights from here on in?"

	"If that will relax you and make you feel more comfortable."

	"I think it would," Doug replied as he left Charles to turn down
the bedspread and top sheet. Charles lay on the bed while Doug went for the
light switch. The room was completely dark except for the illumination
coming into the bedroom window from the night-lights on the large lawn
outside.  Doug slowly joined Charles in the bed and their naked bodies
touched as they continued to kiss.

	Doug pulled his lips away from Charles to ask, "Are we turning
gay?"

	"I don't believe so. One doesn't 'turn gay', one is born gay."

	"Then why has neither of us done this before with another man?"

	"Doug, I honestly don't think you would have ever tried or even
wanted to try to do this with another man. I know I wouldn't have."

	"Then, why? Why now? Why the two of us after all these years?"

	"Could you put into words why you fell in love with my sister,
years ago?"

	"Probably not."

	"I've did a lot of thinking before I came to visit you. I was
questioning my own manhood or masculinity. There have been hundreds of
essays, poems, novels, and the like with the same thought, "Love knows no
boundaries". True love has no limitation. A man loves his parents when he
is a child. He loves his dog as if it were human. He loves his brothers and
sisters, his teachers, his best friend, his girlfriend, his wife, and even
so far as his car, his house, his money. Who's to say where love begins or
ends? You've written romantic novels where a man loves his wife dearly, but
at the same time, suddenly finds that he loves his mistress the same, but
differently. Didn't David love Jonathan? Didn't Christ love his disciples?
Love exists when a person has that feeling of knowing he loves something,
be it living, material, or non-existent. A person has never seen God, but
he chooses to love Him and feel that the Supreme Being loves him in
return."

	"Are you saying that we, you and I, love one another?" Doug asked.

	"Of course. As the husband of my sister, I've always loved you on
that level, but she's gone now, except for the memories of her that you and
I still love. But now we're all but alone. Your Louise and my Sarah knew,
accepted, and returned our love for them as long as they were living. Who's
to say that we can't share some of the love we had for them between the two
of us. Does that make either of us gay?"

	"Not when you explain it that way. I would be lying if I said my
fondness for you hasn't grown during our Internet chats. But I keep asking
myself, how can fondness grow into sexual desire...between two heterosexual
men?"

	"First of all, who's to know? And who's to care except the two of
us? And I'm reminded of the adage, 'if it feels good, do it!'."

	"I must say that holding you in my arms DOES feel good."

	"And how does the touching...below our waists...how does that
feel?"

	"Frighteningly exciting!"

	"Would you be more frightened, more excited if I were to masturbate
you?"

	"A little of both, I guess."

	"We COULD do it to each other at the same time, you know. After
all, we DID climax at the same time on the Internet!"

	Doug thought to himself for a moment and then said, "You're
absolutely right! WHO'S TO KNOW?"

	With a slight reluctance and intimidation, each of them lowered his
hand to grasp the other's organ. Each let out a tiny sigh with the
touch. They locked lips and began to mutually pleasure the other.

	"Oh, God, that feels wonderful!" Charles exclaimed, "more so than I
ever fantasized."

	"I can't believe we're doing this, but I wouldn't stop for all the
royalties on my next two novels," Doug grinned in the darkness.

	Five minutes of their sexual manipulation was about all that either
of them could stand before each of them climaxed into the other's hand.

	"My God, we've ruined your sheets," Charles said.

	"I don't care! I have a linen closet full of sheets. We can dirty
all of them if you like."  He surprised even himself in his forwardness.

	"I'm just warning you," Charles said with a smile. "I might get
used to this and stay longer than I'd planned," Charles said.

	"That first time felt so good, I don't care if you EVER go
home. Let's do it again, only now that the initial fear is gone, let's take
our time and really enjoy it."

	"There are other things we could do, you know."

	"Don't worry, Charles, I think we'll get around to trying all of
them!"


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


	"That was one of the best times of my life," Mike said, as he and
Tom got back into their Winnebago. "Are you sure we saw ALL the patients?
We didn't miss any of them, did we?"

	"I checked the hospital registry three times, we saw all three
hundred of them and I don't regret a minute of it, even if it did take us a
week," Tom replied.

	"Some of them looked so bad, Tom. I wish I were some kind of faith
healer and could have just laid my hands on them and made them well!"

	"My little one, you did that to many of them. You gave them courage
and the hope to fight their disease. Not many of them had the faith and the
medical treatment that you had."

	"And not any of them had a lover like I have. I realize I'll always
be grateful to Dr. Middleton and his staff and the drugs and things that
they did for me to get me well, but, actually, it was you that made me
well. I wanted to get well--for you! I couldn't think of dying and leaving
you all alone...or finding a new lover to take my place."

	"Little guy, no one would or ever COULD take your place in my life!
I'd've moved to a mountain somewhere and became a hermit before I'd've
lived my life without you."

	"You really mean that, don't you?" Mike's seriousness was
intimidating and tender at the same time.

	"You just said it yourself, you wouldn't've wanted to go on living
without me, so why would you think I'd feel any different?"

	"I guess you shouldn't, but..," Mike said.

	"What do you mean, 'I guess'? You know goddamned well I shouldn't!"

	Tom was behind the steering wheel, but Mike managed to maneuver
himself into Tom's lap for a hug and a kiss.

	"Where're we going next?" Mike asked with eager eyes.

	"You've got the map. You tell me! However, I seem to recall you
said something about the Houston Space Center and then, the Alamo, followed
by the Grand Canyon."

	"Yippee! Where to first?"

	"Well, Fort Worth is the next big city. We could stop there or go
right on to Houston."

	"You know what I'd really like to do?"

	"Uh oh, here it comes! I know you want to pull over somewhere and
make love."

	"I always want to do that...but besides that..."

	"What, my love?"

	"When I was a kid in Alabama. I used to look at some magazines. I
think they were called, 'Arizona'."

	"And?"

	"Well, there were all kinds of pictures in the magazines of
deserts, prairie dogs, tumbleweeds..."

	"Go on..."

	"And these huge cactuses!"

	"Cacti."

	"What?"

	"The plural of cactus is cacti."

	"You're kidding?"

	"Nope!"

	"Well, I always wanted one...a tiny one."

	"Tiny one, what?"

	"Cactus...with a big red blossom on it."

	"Mike, I don't think we're going to see any cacti or cactuses on an
Interstate Highway.  Most of the big cities are connected with buildings
and industries. You won't see much of the desert unless you're in a
helicopter looking down."

	"Aren't there some 'off roads' away from the Interstate?"

	"I suppose. Look on the map and see if you can find one on the
outskirts of Fort Worth."

	"Well, don't start up the motor until I find one."

	"You REALLY want a cactus?"

	"Just a teensy one. We can put it in a pot, if we stop at one of
those Indian places. It wouldn't take much attention, would it? I mean, you
don't have to WATER a cactus do you?"

	"Well, cacti are a lot like camels, they can go for a while without
water, but eventually, everything in nature requires a drink."

	"Just an eensy teensy tiny one in a small clay pot? Please?"

	"ONE CACTUS COMING UP! Tell me where to turn off the Interstate,
Jeeves!"

	"You're 'Jeeves'! You're doing the driving!"

	"Well, pardon me, SIR! In which direction should I point your
limousine?"

	"West, Jeeves, go west!" Mike looked at the map and Tom revved up
the 'Bago'."


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


	When Jeff and Johnny had flown to Briarwood to see about the twins,
they had left their SUV at the Montpelier airport, to be there when they
returned. Their return tickets to Mackintosh had increased from two adult
fares to three adult fares and two infants'. Dale, the registered nurse and
temporary nanny for the twins, had never been this far north before. The
sight of the large green mountains of Vermont and New Hampshire captivated
him. Everything looked so clean. When he stepped out of the plane, the air
seemed fresher to him, as if it had been deodorized with some mountain
spray.

	Everything was so green and clean looking. This was a great place
to rear children, especially two that almost had an unhappy ending before
their young lives had a chance to grow up. Dale had never seen a gay couple
so much in love as Jeff and Johnny. He'd had long relationships, but none
of them were ever as close as the two new adoptive fathers.

	When Johnny unlocked the SUV, he saw two infant car cribs,
which instantly surprised him, as well as Jeff. They knew that neither of
them had ordered them, but there they were, in the back section of the van,
just the same. Dale carefully placed the twins in the bassinettes and got
into the back seat with the babies as Jeff got into the passenger seat and
Johnny into the driver's seat, respectively. Dale's luggage and the two
small bags that Jeff and Johnny had taken with them to Briarwood had been
placed in the rear of the vehicle, and off the five of them went to
Mackintosh...to home.

	They arrived at their house shortly before 6:30 PM. Johnny had
stopped at a local store to buy baby formula and diapers and everything
else he could pile into the shopping cart. The babies were quiet and slept
soundly during the drive from Montpelier. Jeff couldn't look at the road,
he kept his head turned toward the cribs, just in case one of the twins did
something that he might miss. Johnny was almost as bad, as he kept looking
into the rear view mirror to get a glance of his two new sons.

	Johnny pulled the van into the driveway and the three adults got
out while the new parents carefully lifted the babies into their arms to
carry them into their new home. They quietly made their way up the steps
and the babies would've stayed asleep, had it not been for the loud,
"SURPRISE!" that greeted them as Jeff opened the door.

        The sudden shout awoke both babies, but, amazingly, neither cried.
Instead, their little-old-man faces were wreathed in smiles, their eyes
darting from one face to another.

	Alex, Ted, Scott, Andy, Larry, and countless other friends,
neighbors, and parishioners rushed forward with hugs, greetings, and a
chance to see the newest residents of Mackintosh.

	"Good Lord!" Jeff screamed. "Alex! Ted! What is this?"

	"I see you found the car cribs," Alex said, excitedly.

	"I should have known it was you," Jeff said, love filling his
voice.

	"Thanks, brother and Mr. Mayor," Johnny added.

	Jeff and Johnny took a few minutes to introduce Dale to everyone
and soon, Dale felt as if he were a long-time resident. The crowd hovered
around the twins with countless, "oohs", "ahhs", and "goo-goos".

	"Alex, how did you know that we got...I mean, how did you know to
invite everyone to...how did you know when we would...?"

	"We have the same father, bro, remember? I think he made more
long-distance calls to Ted and me than we ever did to him and Daddy Dave!"
Alex said, "Now would you and Johnny hush and stop asking so many
questions? There's something I want you to see."

	Alex took Jeff by the hand as Ted took Johnny's hand and the crowd
parted as the four of them made their way down the hallway to the last door
on the right.

	"OK, bro, open it!" Alex said to Jeff.

	"What?"

	"Open the fucking door! I said."

	Jeff turned the knob of his old study and was startled by the
change in the decor since he had seen it on Monday. The room was a
beautiful shade of blue with hand-carved baby beds, chests, bureaus, etc.

	"This is the best we could do in three days," Alex said.

	"Alex, how did you...?"

	"Oh, I didn't do it. Larry and the others did all the work. They
stayed up for three nights getting the nursery ready!"

	"The chests?" Johnny said. "Are they hand-carved?"

	"Out of genuine New Hampshire timber," Ted said, "Bob, Terrance,
Lesley, and Clark did it with their own hands."

	It was difficult to tell who was more choked up with tears, Jeff,
Johnny, or Dale, who was wiping both of his eyes, happily drowning in all
the love he felt from all sides.

	The babies were placed in the side-by-side beds with blue satin
sheets and pillows, topped with baby blue cashmere blankets. Vernon Barkley
had hand-painted cherubs and seraphim along the borders of the ceiling and
above each bed. The ceiling was painted with clouds with tiny faces of
lambs peeking through the billows. Later, Johnny would remark that it
reminded him of a child's Sistine Chapel.

	"Are you pleased?" Alex said, "I know it was a bit risky to
decorate without yours and Johnny's input on the nursery, but, after all,
they're MY nephews!"

	"Alex, I would've been pleased if you had painted it bright red
with green polka dots, just knowing that you had done it for Johnny and
me. Of course I love it! We're brothers with the same tastes, aren't we?"

	"Not in everything. I mean, our choices in husbands differed."

	"We didn't choose Johnny and Ted, Bro, God had them chosen for us,
years ago."

	"Let me show Dale his room. He's probably exhausted from the
flight," Johnny said.

	"Not before I feed the children," Dale said, as he made his way
into the kitchen to unpack the groceries Johnny had bought.

	Jeff looked at all his friends, standing with pride and their eyes
full of tears. "I want to thank all of you. You already know that I love
each and everyone of you. I hope I can in some way return the love you've,
once again, shown to Johnny and me...and now to our two boys. I guess that
all of you know that you're ALL adopted 'uncles' and the boys will grow up
to love you just the same as I do."

	"Are you still having confessions tomorrow, Father Jeff?"

	"James Aubrey! What have you done that you need to confess?" Jeff
looked at him sternly, but in a kidding manner.

	"I heard him swear and take the Lord's name in vain when he banged
his finger with a hammer!" Bob Wilhoit said.

	"In that case, I think the good Lord will forgive you, seeing the
wonderful job you did on the nursery!" Jeff said.

	"He didn't bang it here, Father, he was at home, building a new
cabinet in his bathroom!" Bob replied.

	"Oh? That IS different," Jeff joked, "I suppose I WILL have to hear
confessions tomorrow before Sunday mass."

	"Are you guys gonna talk all day?" Ted asked. "We've fixed one
whale of a supper and I, for one, am ready to eat!"

	"Gentlemen, the mayor has made a proclamation," Johnny said. "Let's
eat!" He and Jeff turned to kiss the two babes, fast asleep again.

	The hugging and camaraderie continued as they all made their way
into the kitchen and dining room to fill their plates with broiled chicken,
wild rice, dressing, and of course, sautéed broccoli.


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

	The producers had been quietly looking for a replacement for the
actor playing the role of "Harry Beaton" in the new Broadway production of
"Brigadoon". From the orchestra pit where he was conducting the show
nightly, Timmy watched the current "Harry", a young dancer named Ian
Sumner, as Ian grew thinner and more pallid with each performance. Rob had
mentioned to Timmy that he thought Ian might be ill. Both Rob and Timmy
expressed fear that Ian might be HIV-positive...or worse.

	Carl Landowski, the director and choreographer of the show had
noticed Ian's dancing becoming tired and heavy. He talked with Rob and
Timmy about Ian. That was when Rob and Timmy decided to invite Ian to their
apartment on West 75th Street for Sunday dinner, the only night that the
show was dark. Ian accepted and was asked to bring a friend or lover, if he
wished to do so.

	Timmy spent Sunday afternoon preparing a huge meal for Ian, who was
scheduled to arrive at six-thirty. By eight o'clock, Ian had not arrived
and Rob and Timmy had become concerned. Rob phoned Ian's apartment and got
no answer.

	"Maybe he got caught in traffic if he took a cab instead of the
subway," Timmy said to Rob as Rob hung up the phone, a questioning look on
his face.

	"I'll wait until nine and if we've received no word from him by
then, I'm going to his place to see if anything's wrong," Rob replied.

	Timmy agreed on the plan. "Have you talked with Alex since Friday
night?"

	"Yes, he called just after he and Ted returned from Jeff's. He said
the twins were adorable. He said that they look like Jeff and Johnny both,
as if they were results of having artificially inseminated the mother. Alex
was beside himself with glee. I only wish we could get a break and go to
Mackintosh and see them all," Rob said.

	"When's the christening?" Timmy asked. "Maybe we could get away
after the Saturday show and fly up for the christening on Sunday, whichever
Sunday that Jeff and Johnny choose, and make it back early Monday morning?"

	"I'm so glad you said that! Those were my thoughts exactly, only I
hadn't mentioned them to you. I think it's a great idea!"

	"Walter and Dave must be tickled pink, especially Walt. Now he has
his very own grandsons!"

	"I told you about the nursery that the parishioners of Mackintosh
built, didn't I?"

	"About a dozen times, dummy!" Timmy said, smiling

	"It's just that...that I'm so happy for Jeff and Johnny. They've
worked so hard in re-establishing lives for the Mackintosh
residents. They've needed some happiness and joy in their lives."

	"Rob, will you listen to yourself! Do you think anything could have
given the two of them more happiness than giving hope to a whole town of
AIDS victims--people who had already accepted their doom?"

	"No, Jeff and Johnny are so much alike. What surprised me most was
when Alex and Ted moved to Mackintosh. Alex had worked miracles at the
Center and Ted...MAYOR TED? The big sports promoter? In his own way, Ted's
the most amazing of them all."

	"Alex almost lost Ted in his accident. Ted needed something to give
new meaning to his life...and he found it!"

	"Do you ever find yourself envying them?"

	"You mean do I ever feel like the kid shoveling elephant shit at
the circus?"

	"You got my meaning, babe! Do you ever wish we would get out of
show business and find a little place like Mackintosh and settle down with
kids of our own?"

	"And retire to the country and grow old, reading yesterday's
'Variety'?"

	"Yes."

	"Not really. God gave us both musical gifts and I don't feel as if
we've used them enough to throw our talents away back in God's face."

	"Oh, my! You sound as if you've been talking with Father
Cliff. Have you?"

	"No, but I would like to."

	"Well, that settles it! We're going to the christening where I can
see the twins and you can talk with Father Cliff. In the meanwhile, where
is Ian? It's almost nine o'clock!" They found themselves brought suddenly
back to reality.

	"I guess we'd better go over to his apartment. He lives on East
86th, doesn't he?"

	"East 85th, just off Park."

	"Get your coat and let's go!"

	Traffic was not really bad for a Sunday evening. It took Rob and
Timmy less than fifteen minutes to arrive at Ian's place. They got out of
the cab and walked to the landing of Ian's brownstone building and rang the
buzzer on the mailbox. They waited and got no reply.

	Soon, a blonde in her late 50's came down the street and walked up
to where Timmy and Rob were standing. She took a look at the two strangers
and asked, "Are you here to see someone in this building?"

	"Yes. Ian Sumner," Rob replied. "He was supposed to have dinner
with the two of us nearly three hours ago and when we didn't hear from him,
we came over by cab to check on him. Do you know him?"

	"Yes, I'm Esther Waters, his landlady," she said.

	"I'm..."

	"I know who you are," she said. "I know both of you. I've seen
'Brigadoon' five times and loved it more each time that I saw it. Ian let
me use his house seats. I've been worried about him lately. He doesn't seem
quite like himself. His cheeks are peaked, almost anemic-looking."

	"We've noticed that, too, Ms. Waters," Timmy said.

	"If you'd like to come up with me, I'll be happy to go with you to
check on him. He's such a nice boy."

	"Thanks, Ms. Waters, that would be great!" Rob added, momentary
relief in his voice.

	The three of them took the stairs to the second floor and Esther
tapped lightly on Ian's door. There was no answer. She tapped again, only
louder. Still nothing. The next time, she knocked rather loudly.

	"Do you think we should go in and check on him?" Esther said. "I
have a master key."

	"I think that's a good idea," Timmy offered.

	Esther placed her key into the door and opened it slowly. The
apartment was dark except for a light glowing from the bathroom. Rob and
Timmy walked toward the bathroom door and noticed Ian lying naked on the
floor in front of the lavatory. Timmy rushed to Ian, knelt at his side, and
felt for his pulse.

	"He's alive!" Timmy announced darkly, "but I don't know for how
long."

	"Good heavens!" Esther exclaimed. "I KNEW he was sick!"

	"I'm calling an ambulance!" Rob said, hurrying to the phone to
dial, '911'.

	In the meanwhile, Timmy had moistened a washcloth and began to
bathe Ian's face with cool water. He also placed a towel over Ian's
privates so that Esther wouldn't be offended by Ian's nudity.

	"If he's bleeding anywhere, don't get any of his blood on you!" Rob
yelled from the phone.

	"He's NOT bleeding. I don't think he hit his head when he fell, he
just seems to have fainted," Timmy called to Rob.

	"The ambulance should be here in five or ten minutes!" Robb said,
excitedly as he returned to the bathroom. "Let's see if we can find a pair
of his shorts and put them on him before the paramedics arrive. I'm sure
that they will take him to the hospital.

	It was Esther who went to rummage through the drawers of Ian's
bureau looking for a 'modesty' garment. "Here's a pair!" she announced, "a
nice pair of boxers!". She handed them to Timmy.

	With Rob's help, Timmy managed to tug the shorts onto Ian's lower
torso while Esther pretended not to look. Rob went into Ian's bedroom to
get a blanket from the bed to wrap around Ian in case Ian should go into
shock. The NYEMS arrived within minutes and checked Ian's vitals before
hoisting him onto a gurney to take him to the ambulance. Timmy gave as much
information as he could to the accompanying police officer. Esther remained
behind to lock up Ian's apartment while Rob and Timmy took a cab to the
hospital.

	"Has he ever mentioned his family or did he have a boy- or
girl-friend?" Timmy asked Rob in the taxi. "I always assumed he was gay."

	"You mean just because he's a dancer? Timmy, you know better than
that. Maybe thirty years ago all male dancers WERE gay, but now? It's
impossible to tell...even straights and gays give off the same 'gaydar'
messages."

	"You can't get over the fact that James chose Wes over Michael on
'Boy Meets Boy'."

	"Well, James was just as confused as I, and he met and talked with
them in person!"

	"All I can say is thank God, the reality series on TV are coming to
a halt and we can get back to plot lines and stories!"

	"Amen to that!"

	The taxi arrived at the hospital. Rob tipped the driver and he and
Timmy rushed into the emergency room where they waited for four
hours. Finally, a nurse came out to talk with the two of them.

	"Are you family members?" she asked.

	"Oh, no," Rob replied, "just friends and co-workers. We're in the
same Broadway show."

	"Brigadoon!" the nurse exclaimed. "I've seen it three times. I
thought you were 'Tommy' when I first saw you. You sing beautifully!"

	"Thanks," Rob said, trying to appear modest. "And this is Tim..."

	"The conductor! I sat in the third row the last time I went. The
other two times, I only saw the back of your head while you were conducting
the orchestra."

	"Then, you must remember Ian as well," Timmy said.

	"Ian?"

	"The guy who's your patient. Ian Sumner, the lead dancer."

	"My God, I never would have recognized him. He is so much thinner
and his face is gaunt."

	"Is there any word on his condition?" Rob asked, getting a bit
impatient.

	"Oh, he's awake now. You can go into to see him if you like."

	"Thanks, Miss...?"

	"Miss Stanley, Emily Stanley."

	"Thanks, Miss Stanley."

	"Here, let me escort you into his cubicle."

	Rob and Timmy followed her through the panel doors which led down a
corridor of cubicles, separated one from another only by white hospital
drapes. Ian was in a hospital bed with the back elevated into an almost
sitting position. There was an IV dripping into his right arm. He was
wearing a hospital gown over the boxer shorts which Esther had chosen from
Ian's bureau.

	"Hi, guys," Ian spoke weakly. "I guess I'm late for dinner."

	"Don't worry," Rob joked, "if they haven't fed you here, we'll send
over the leftovers. Boy, you surely gave us a good scare."

	"I'm just glad that you found me. I asked the nurse how I got here
and she described the two of you."

	"What happened?" Timmy asked. "Did you suddenly get sick and pass
out?"

	"No, Tim, I've been sick for quite a few weeks. I was hoping that
no one in the cast would notice it."

	"Is is anything serious?" Timmy asked. "I mean, you don't have...?"

	"AIDS? HIV? No, I don't have either of them, thank God." Ian
replied.

	"Then what is it?"

	"You remember when the producer offered us to sign up for company
insurance a few months back?"

	"Yes, we both signed up for it," Rob said.

	"Well, the insurance company insisted that we all have physical
exams.  I hope I'm wrong, but I felt that this was the company's way of
finding out who of the cast might be HIV positive. I'd had a couple of
dizzy spells and thought I needed a check up just for the hell of it. I
suspected I might have diabetes or something. Then, a couple of weeks
later, my doctor got the results from my blood tests. I didn't have AIDS
and I was HIV negative, but he discovered that I have chronic hepatitis C."

	"Can't you get a vaccination for that?" Timmy asked.

	"For hepatitis A and B, you can, but there is no vaccination for
C."

	"What can be done for it? How dangerous is it? I mean, is it as
contagious as ordinary hepatitis?"

	"There are treatments available, such as Interferon, the same
chemotherapy used for cancer. And it's only ninety-nine percent contagious
if you've been exposed to body fluids, almost the same as HIV or AIDS. If
not treated, it can develop into liver cirrhosis or stomach cancer and all
you can do is wait and see if it takes a turn for the worse. I've been
trying to treat it with diet and vitamin tablets, but I guess my system
just sort 'broke down' from all the dancing and physical activity during
the show. Many times in the past two weeks, I've almost asked for a leave
of absence or tendered a resignation so that I could manage the 'hep C', or
least until I felt better."

	"Were you exposed to contaminated blood or something?" Rob asked.

	"I don't think so. I could've been, but you see, you can get it the
same way you get AIDS, from anal intercourse."

	Timmy gave Rob a quick glance.

	"I know both of you are lovers. Hell, who doesn't?" Ian spoke, "I
mean, you two are the happiest married couple I've ever seen."

	"Are we THAT obvious?" Rob asked.

	"Only to those of us who have never known the happiness that you
two have." Rob and Timmy smiled at him. "NOW, about the show! I know that
Lennie, my understudy can take over my role. He's been dying backstage
every night, waiting for me to fall on a sword during the sword dance and I
haven't missed a performance, so I know he'll be happy."

	"That's good that you've got that figured out," Rob said, "but what
about you? Are you going to seek treatment? Will your insurance cover the
Interferon?"

	"I didn't get the insurance. It was pending on my physical exam
results."

	"How much are the shots or however they give Interferon to you?"

	"It depends on where I go to get treatment. It can be as little as
four or five hundred bucks per pop all the way up to thousands of
dollars...which will be ALL cash out of my pocket, which unfortunately, I
do not have."

	"You need money for treatment?"

	"Not unless I can find a gay doctor who will trade me Interferon
for some choreographed blow jobs," Ian joked.

	Rob looked at Timmy and they both thought the same thing at the
same time.

	"Ian, will you excuse me for a minute? I...I have to make a phone
call I forgot to make earlier."

	"Sure, where am I going? It looks like I'm gonna be out of a job
beginning tonight."

	"Timmy, stay with Ian and cheer him up. I'll be right back."

	There was a row of old-fashioned phone booths in the hospital
waiting room...the kind that would let one close the door and talk in
private. Rob entered a booth and dialed.

	"Hello?" Cliff answered.

	"Father Cliff?"

	"Rob? Is that you? Is anything wrong?"

	"Oh, no. I wanted to call and see if Roger was home."

	"No, Rob, he's at Cole. Is Timmy sick?"

	"No."

	"Dear God! Don't tell me that you have another 'Agnes' running
around with a knife in New York."

	"No, thank God, and thanks to you. Agnes is gone forever! I was
calling about a friend of ours. You remember Ian Sumner, the guy who played
'Harry Beaton' when you and Roger saw the show?"

	"That brilliant dancer! How could I forget him? Has something
happened to him?"

	"Well, yes and no. He's ill, Father. He's ill and can't afford
treatment and I wanted to ask Roger to see where he should go to get
treatment."

	"He's HIV positive?"

	"Oh, no. He's completely negative. He has hepatitis C."

	"My God, Rob, they treat that every day at Cole. It's almost as
rampant as HIV among the gay population. As a matter of fact more cases of
hepatitis C goes unnoticed, unreported, and untreated than HIV."

	"That's what I wanted to know...I mean, if Dr. Ed at Cole..."

	"Rob, for God's sake, you're one of my Briarwood boys. You and
Timmy are Roger's and my family, one of our sons. Do you think you have to
call to seek help for a friend? If you can get him on the next flight to
Briarwood, I'll call Ed and have a room ready for him at Cole or Roger will as
soon as he gets home."

	"In my heart, that's what I knew you'd say. Maybe I just wanted to
hear the sound of your voice and hear you say it to me."

	"Well, I said it and I mean it, about getting Ian up here ASAP. Why
don't you and Timmy come with him?"

	"Once in the highlands, the highlands of Scotland," Rob began to
sing.

	"I know, the show MUST go on, but I miss you both."

	"And we miss you, too," Rob said. "Oh, we're coming down for Jeff
and Johnny's twins' christening."

	"That's the best news I've heard all day. I only hope that Jeff and
Johnny pick out a date soon."

	"I bet all the Briarwood boys are waiting to hear the date."

	"I haven't heard what they're naming the twins, yet."

	"I think Alex and Ted are going to name them when you christen
them."

	"I hope Alex can overrule Ted's decision, otherwise, the kids will
be named Maris and Mantel."

	"Or Montana and Aikman," Rob added, laughing. "Whatever they
choose, you know that Jeff and Johnny will oversee the names or there could
be a big rift between the Clayton brothers."

	"I don't think that will ever happen," Cliff said. "Now call me the
minute you make a flight reservation for Ian so I can have someone meet him
at the airport!"

	"I will, Father,...and thanks."

	"No reason to thank me. I love you and Timmy."

	"Same here. You know, I've done over two hundred performances of
'Brigadoon', but every night, as I begin to sing, 'From This Day On', I
think of you and Uncle Roger and always get choked up."

	"Roger and I LOVED the show and the rest of you Briarwood brothers
did...  and we're all proud of you and so happy for you both."

	"Thanks, Father. Goodnight."

	"Good night, son."

	A grin was beaming from ear to ear on Rob's face when he returned
to Ian and Timmy.

	"Get up!" Rob said.

	"What?"

	"I said, get up! You have a plane to catch!"

	"Rob, what the fuck are you talking about?"

	"You're going to a little town called Briarwood where they have a
great big hospital at the Cole Institute and they have a bed waiting on you
there to get you well and back to the show before our run ends."

	"You called Roger?" Timmy asked.

	"Nope. He was at the Institute, but I DID talk with Father Cliff. And
one of them is going to call Dr. Ed."

	"Who are Father Cliff, Roger, and Dr. Ed?" Ian asked.

	"Well, Father Cliff and his partner, 'Uncle Roger' are Timmy's and
my parents. Doctor Ed runs Roger`s hospital, the Cole Institute in
Briarwood."

	"Your what?"

	"He's right," Timmy said. "And if anyone can get you well, it's our
two fathers and Dr. Ed. They have special powers over young men who are sick."

	"I don't know what either of you is talking about."

	"You will," Rob said. "Do you suppose he'll be a Briarwood boy when
he gets back to New York?"

	"Probably, if Father Cliff has anything to do with it."

	"What's a Briarwood boy?"

	"Shut up and let's call the nurse to get that needle out of your
arm so that we can go to your place and pack you a bag or two."

	"But..."

	"No 'buts,'" Rob said and yelled to Miss Stanley, "NURSE!!!"


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

	The long, exhausting, and frightening day had been too much for
Lee. He had heard Dr. Gonzalez all but predict his death, he had said
goodbye to his brother AND to Fort Stockton, he had hitched a ride as far
as Fort Worth with a stranger, a truck driver and as the miles drifted
behind him, he had become rather sleepy and had dozed off in the seat of
the semi- while the stranger drove. The driver's name was Joe. Lee must
have been lonely or needed the comfort of a human touch, for, as he slept,
he had crawled closer to the driver and rested his head on the driver's
right thigh. Lee's cozy action did not disturb the driver as he said to
himself while stroking Lee's hair, "Poor kid. I wonder what he's running
from and where he's running to?"

	Lee brought back memories to the driver at the time when he, too,
had run away from his drunken father and whiney mother. Joe recalled
hitchhiking away from his home that first night when he was sixteen. He had
caught a ride from a trucker as well, only before the evening was over, the
trucker had taught him nearly everything about male-to-male sex. The
trucker had gone down on Joe first and then suggested that he do the same
to the trucker. Soon the trucker had parked at a rest stop and had split
Joe's anus wide open with his huge cock. Joe was hurting and was in so much
pain, he could hardly return the gesture to the trucker who was anxious to
feel a sixteen year old's prick plowing his ass.

	That was nearly thirty years and thousands of rest-stop-blowjobs
ago. It was a weird fraternity that existed between cross-country
truckers. Nearly all of them were married with kids of their own, but as
soon as they got onto the highway, they were in a man's world. No woman was
allowed. Every other trucker's ass, cock, and balls were fair game to any
other trucker. Often they would pick up a hitcher and trade a ride for a
piece of fresh male ass. Those hitchers who were unwilling to pay the price
didn't get a ride...at least not from a trucker.

	Most of them were faithful to the wives they had left at home. It
wouldn't occur to them to pick up a whore or some willing slut sitting at
the counter at the next truck stop diner. That would be committing adultery
and cheating on the wife, but sex among themselves was accepted. It wasn't
gay sex. Gay sex is what queers did and there was nothing queer about a
trucker sucking or fucking his fellow road driver.

	Had it been twenty years earlier, Joe would have made Lee pay for
the price of his ride to Fort Worth, but Joe had had so many strangers in
the night that he had begun to grow weary. There was too much fuss and
bother with it now, especially with the new leather and plush interiors
that the cabs of the new trucks were equipped with. "There was a time," Joe
thought, looking at the innocent boy whose head was in his lap, "that you
and I would've had a fine old time, buddy boy. You're just lucky that I
don't stay as horny as I used to be."

	A coyote crossed the highway in front of Joe's cab and he quickly
stepped on his brake to avoid the coyote massacre. The sudden movement of
Joe's right leg and foot awoke Lee and he was a bit shocked and embarrassed
to see where he had been sleeping. He quickly sat up and assumed his
position on the passenger's side.

	"Have a good nap?" Joe asked.

	"Yes sir, I...I just seemed to've dozed off. I...I'm sorry if I
cramped your driving."

	"Oh, that's all right. I have a son about your age at home. He used
to doze off in my lap that way when I read children's stories to him."

	"My dad never read children's stories to me," Lee said, but quickly
added, "but he read the Bible to me."

	"I guess I'd've done better with MY son, if I'd read the Bible to
him."

	"Where is he now?"

	"He's in a detention home for boys, back in Indiana."

	"What did he do?"

	"Oh, he started messin' around with a girl that was too young for
him. She, uh, she felt she was in love with him. Hell, she was only
fourteen...too young to know what love was and she...she wanted Jim, that's
my son's name, she wanted Jim to marry her."

	"At fourteen? How old was Jim?"

	"Jim was fifteen, almost sixteen."

	"Gosh! What happened?"

	"Well, Jim told her that he was not old enough to get married...and
then he made the mistake of tellin' her he didn't love her. Well, that's
when she went home and told her daddy that Jim had fucked her."

	"She lied?"

	"According to Jim, she did, but there was no way to prove it."

	"Couldn't they take her to a hospital and see if she, well, to
prove that Jim hadn't violated her?"

	"Oh, she'd been violated, all right, but not by Jim. I still swear
to this day that it was her daddy who'd done it to her. But, NO, it was Jim
who she accused and it was her who the judge believed and it was Jim who
got sentenced to ten years for doin' it. When he gets eighteen, they'll
transfer him out of the detention home and place him in a real prison to
serve out the rest of his term."

	"Good gracious! Wasn't there anything that anybody could do for
Jim?"

	"Nope...and that's why he is where he is."

	"Wow!"

	"You got a girlfriend?"

	"No."

	"That's good. Don't be messin' around with girls until you're a
man. There's still plenty of time left when you're twenty-one. Remember
that, son."

	"I will."

	"Why you goin' to Dallas?"

	"To...to visit a friend," Lee lied. "His name is Buddy. He is or
was my piano teacher...that is, until he moved to Dallas."

	"Does he know you're a'comin'?"

	"Yes sir, he's expectin' me."

	"Well, I hope you have a nice visit with him."

	"Thank you."

	"Listen, boy, I have to turn off here about a mile up to go into
Fort Worth and get the back of my rig. So do you wanna get out there and
see if you can hitch a ride on in to Dallas? It's nearly four o'clock and I
don't know how much luck you're gonna have gittin' a ride this time of
mornin'. But if anyone stops for you, take a good look at them before you
take a ride from them. There's a lot of mean people who'll do nasty things
to boys like you, lookin' for a ride. Just be careful."

	"I will, sir."

	"And when you get to Dallas, stay clear of fourteen year old girls"
he added mournfully

	"I'll do that too, sir."

	Joe pulled his semi cab to the side of the road for Lee to get
out. Lee stepped out onto the side of the highway and a gust of cool air
mixed with dust hit his face. It seemed strange to be alone on a Texas road
very early in the morning and there was not a car in sight, coming or going
in either direction. He picked up his suitcase and began walking east
toward Dallas. In ten minutes or so, a few cars began to appear on the
horizon in front of him, but nothing going in direction in which he was
headed.


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


	"Look! There's one!" Eddie screamed as Skip's car sped down the
highway.

	"One what, asshole?" Skip yelled.

	"A faggot! I seen one of 'em walkin' along side of the road."

	"Numbnuts! That was just a hitchhiker! Not all hitchhikers are
faggots. I seem to remember seein' you hitchin' a ride or two. Were you a
faggot lookin' for a ride or some dick?"

	"Eat shit and die, Skip!" Eddie hollered at him.

	"He might've been one, Skip," Jerry said. "We ain't seen hide nor
hair of anybody else for the past hour. Why don't you turn around and see
if he's a faggot and get your rocks off so's we can go home. Fuck! It's
gonna be daylight soon!"

	"All right, we'll go see...but if he AIN'T one, I might have to
plow one of your asses if you want to get home in such a hurry!"

	Skip did a one-eighty turn with his car and headed back in the
opposite direction. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to catch up
with the hitcher. Lee turned around to see a pickup with three boys in the
seat. He immediately stuck out his thumb.

	"Hey, boy!" Jerry screamed from the window. "Whereya goin'?"

	"Dallas!" Lee yelled back.

	"It's kinda late to be on an open highway, isn't it?"

	"I gotta ride as far as the turn off to Fort Worth. I haven't been
walkin' that far. I just started."

	"Whacha got in that suitcase? Gold bars or cocaine? You a
smuggler?"

	"No, just my clothes and stuff."

	"Wouldja like us to give ya a ride?"

	"Yes, that would be great!"

	"What about it, Skip, you wanna give a smuggler a free ride to
Dallas?"

	"Ask him if he's got any gas money!" Skip said.

	"Hey, Huck Finn! You got any money to buy some gas if we take ya?"

	"Yes, sure."

	"He's got money, Skip. So, do we give him a ride or not."

	"Does he look like a faggot to you?" Skip asked in a low voice.

	"Shit, I don't know. Just what is a faggot supposed to look like?
Is he supposed to have some neon sign on his back of somethin'?"

	"You can tell by the way they talk...real sissified. Does he sound
sissified?"

	"Yes, if you want me to say it, he SOUNDS sissified! Do you want to
pick him up or not?"

	"Tell him to put his suitcase in the truck bed and git in," Skip
said, finally.

	"Okay, Huck, you got yourself a ride. Throw your bag in the back
and jump up here between us!"

	Lee placed his suitcase in the truck bed while Eddie jumped out of
the passenger side door to let Lee in first.

	"Huck, you slide in between him and me, I always ride shotgun,"
Eddie said to him.

	Lee got in and scooted close to Jerry. Eddie reentered the cab and
slammed the door, pushing Lee even closer to Jerry and crowding Lee to the
extent of feeling uncomfortable. Now all four of them were squeezed
together in the seat of the truck. Skip took time to size up Lee before
moving his pickup.

	"What's your real name, Huck?" Skip asked.

	"Lee."

	"You mean like in the blue jeans?"

	"What?"

	"Lee Jeans! Don't you have a pair?"

	"No."

	"Shit! Everybody in Texas wears Lee jeans. You must not be a
Texan. Whereya from?"

	"I was born in Fort Stockton...lived there all my life," Lee
replied, trying his best to be friendly and not show fear. "I got a pair of
Levis in my suitcase."

	"Hell, that's what Texans USED to wear. Now it's Lee's or all
cowboys go nekkid!"

	Jerry and Eddie laughed at Skip's joke, but Lee only managed a
smile.

	"Fort Stockton, huh?"

	"Yes."

	"Hey, guys, didn't we give a ride to someone from Fort Stockton...a
few weeks ago, didn't we?"

	Eddie and Jerry eyed one another before answering.

	"Yeah, I think we did, Skip. He was goin' to Dallas, too."

	"What's happenin', Lee," Skip chided. "Everyone from Fort Stockton
movin' to Dallas? What is it? Some kind of immigration goin' on over
there?"

	"MIGRATION!" Jerry said, correcting Skip.

	"Not migration, asshole," Skip snapped, "that's what birds do,
jerkwad, didn't you learn nothin' in school? What was that guy's name, we
gave the ride to?"

	"I don't remember," Jerry replied, nonchalantly.

	"It was Bobby, Robby, or somethin' like that," Eddie offered.

	"BUDDY!" Skip yelled, "That's it! Buddy! Hey, Lee you know some guy
from Fort Stockton named Buddy?"

	Mentioning his friend's name, gave Lee a ray of hope. Maybe one of
these guys knew where they dropped off Buddy."

	"Yeah, I had a piano teacher named Buddy. He moved to Dallas a few
weeks ago. Do you suppose it was him? What did the guy look like when you
last saw him?"

	'A friend of Buddy's, huh?' Skip thought. 'Looks like I got lucky
and found me a faggot on my first try. Goddamn! What a bull's-eye!'.

	"Oh, he didn't look too good the last time we saw him, did he
guys?" Skip said. "He was sick and had an awful headache."

	"Did you take him to a hospital or anything?"

	"Nope, he never made it that far, did he, guys?" Eddie replied,
getting in on Skip's joke.

	"What do you mean, 'he never made it that far'? Did he get car sick
and have to get out before he got to Dallas?"

	"Yes sir, that's exactly what happened!" Skip said.

	"Did you just leave him there...I mean, on the side of the road?"

	"No...it was a little further off the road, wouldn't you say,
guys?"

	"It was plumb clean OFF the road...WAY off!" Eddie added.

	Lee was beginning to get frightened and alarmed. He suddenly wished
he had never accepted a ride from these three young strangers.

	"Did any of you at least go see about him?" Lee asked.

	"Oh, naw!," Skip said, "I think just after that, I seen him fall."

	"That's right, he fell," Eddie said and quickly added, "I think
that's when he hit his head on a rock or something."

	"That's right, Eddie," Jerry chimed in, "I remember it now! He hit
his head and there was blood pouring out of it, you know, like when you
shake up a beer and pop the top. It spews. Your friend's blood was spewin'
out of his head like a can of Bud. Hey, that's pretty good! Like a can of
Bud...only it was Buddy." Jerry laughed and Eddie joined him.

	"You know what?" Skip asked his two compatriots, "Buddy never paid
us for the ride."

	"I'm sure he would've. He had money in his pocket the last time I
saw him."

	"Oh, he wasn't gonna pay in cash," Skip said. "He was gonna pay me
another way."

	"You mean he didn't give you that blow job he offered you, when you
was so nice to him?"

	"No, and I didn't get to fuck his little ass, either."

	"That wasn't very nice of him, not to pay his debt," Eddie chided.

	"How about you, Huck? Lee? Or whatever the fuck your name is...do
you give blow jobs like your friend?"

	"No, I don't!" Lee said, sternly.

	"How about your little ass? Ever been fucked?"

	"No! NO! I HAVEN'T!"

	"Well, how would you feel about paying me what your friend owed
me?" Skip asked.

	"I told you that I have money and I would pay for the gas!"

	"I don't want your money. I want a piece of Fort Stockton
chicken. My dick's kinda hungry!"

	"PLEASE!" Lee began to plead. "I'd like to get out of the truck
now."

	"Oh, no! It's much too dangerous to leave a young kid like you all
alone this time of a morning on a deserted Texas highway."

	Skip revved up the motor and headed out across a wide-open space
when looked vaguely like a desert with tall cactus.

	"Where are you taking me? I wanna get out! PLEASE!"

	Skip ignored Lee's pleas and drove faster, farther into the
wasteland.

	"You know what your friend tried to do to us?"

	"No, I don't!"

	"He tried to kill us.

	"Buddy tried to kill all three of you? How? He didn't have a gun so
far as I knew. He was always afraid of guns."

	"Oh no! He had a new way of killing all of us...just by getting his
infected blood on us. He told us he had AIDS and if the blood got on us,
we'd get it too. Now to me, that was definitely a threat on our lives."

	"What happened?" Lee asked, his voice quivering.

	"Well, it was just a matter of self defense. We had to kill him
before he killed us?"

	"YOU KILLED BUDDY? BUDDY'S DEAD?"

	"He appeared to be when we left him for the buzzards and coyotes."

	As difficult as it was NOT to cry, Lee couldn't help himself. Tears
poured from his eyes upon hearing of the murder of his friend. Suddenly he
was even more afraid, because he realized that Buddy's fate might soon be
his own.

	Skip stopped his pickup with a jolt and Eddie opened the passenger
door and he and Jerry wrestled Lee out of the cab and threw him to the
rocky and sandy ground until Skip could get out of his side of the vehicle
to join them. Lee was screaming, "STOP! STOP! STOP!" while shedding buckets
of tears.

	"Whacha gonna do to him?" Jerry asked Skip.

	"First I think we oughta take off his clothes and get him good and
nekkid."

	Eddie reached to feel for the buttons of Lee's shirt, which was
pressed between Lee's body and the dirt.

	"Not that way, farthead!"

	Skip reached for a hunting knife, which he wore in a scabbard on
his western belt. The shiny knife blade glistened from the headlights of
the truck.

	"HOLD HIM DOWN!" Skip ordered to Jerry and Eddie, "I don't want to
cut him and get AIDS blood all over me, just in case he got AIDS from his
piano teacher."

	Jerry and Eddie placed their knees on Lee's outstretched arms and
shoulders while Skip knelt between Lee's legs. Lee took his knife and
inserted it at the end of Lee's pants leg and slowly sliced the material
all the way to Lee's butt. Then he did the same thing with the other pants
leg. Then he cut from the top of one slice to the other, making a split
across Lee's butt cheeks. Next he grabbed the pieces of the cut trousers
and ripped them hard until Lee's backside was free from his pants except
for his leather belt, which Skip sliced in two.

	"Now, his shirt!" Skip announced as he took the tail of Lee's shirt
and cut it all the way up the back to the collar. Then, he ripped the
entire remainder of the shirt off Lee, leaving him only with his shoes,
socks, and Fruit-of-the-Loom briefs.

	"Now, I wanna see his ass," Skip said, ripping the shorts off Lee's
lower torso.  Lee was screaming loudly during the whole time of his
disrobing.

	"Look at that butt!" Skip said, admiring his prey. "Ain't that a
pretty one?"

	"Skip, you ain't gonna fuck him, are you?" Eddie asked. "What if
he's got AIDS too?"

	"I came prepared this time. I read up on safe sex. I got two
rubbers in my billfold. If I'm careful, it shouldn't matter whether he's
got AIDS or hemorrhoids! YESSIR! I'm gonna fuck me a genuine faggot!"

	Skip pulled his wallet from his jeans and retrieved two Trojan
packets, tore one of them open, opened his fly, pulled out his penis, and
began to make himself "safe" for anal sex.

	"My God, Skip!" Jerry exclaimed, "From the size of your dick,
you're so big and horny, you're gonna split this kid's ass wide open!"

	"That was my intention, exactly!" Skip replied. "Now hold him down
good, while I make him a new asshole!"

	As Skip came forward to place himself at the opening of Lee's anus,
Lee suddenly was able to pull his knees up under him and with one last
ditch effort, he landed a fierce blow with his shoes on his feet, right
into Skip's naked scrotum. Skip didn't see Lee's action coming and he fell
backward with a thud, writhing in pain, and grabbing his aching testicles.

	Jerry and Eddie were so surprised at what they had seen, they
reached for their fallen friend while Lee rose to his feet and began
running as fast as he could toward the highway that Skip had just turned
off. The cool morning air made Lee realize the when Skip opened the back of
his shirt with the knife, he had cut Lee's skin up his spine and he was
bleeding. He could feel the hot blood running down his back and into the
crack of his butt.

	Fortunately for Lee, he still had his shoes on, although the rest
of his fleeing body was naked. He had never been a track star like his
brother Jake, but Lee was running with all his might, running for his
life. Skip was in too much pain to run after Lee, but Lee got about twenty
feet ahead of Jerry and Eddie as they began to chase after him.

	Somehow Lee managed to run as far as the deserted highway. He
headed east toward Dallas and ran about fifty yards, with Jerry and Eddie
close at his heels. There was an elevation in the road ahead, which went
around a curve. Just as Lee approached the curve, he saw two big headlights
coming from the opposite direction. The lights belonged to a big semi or an
RV. Lee ran down the middle of the highway for the oncoming vehicle.

	The RV saw Lee running and stopped as fast as possible, about
fifteen feet from the naked Lee. The door of the vehicle opened and out
stepped Tom Summerfield, wearing only a pair of Addida shorts and running
shoes. The sun was beginning to rise and Tom's muscular bare chest appeared
as if he were wearing an armor made of human skin. No sooner was Tom
running toward Lee than Mike stepped from the RV, dressed the same as Lee,
his huge pectorals bulging the same as his lover's.

	"What's going on?" Tom cried out to Lee.

	"HELP ME! OH, PLEASE HELP ME! THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!" Lee
yelled.

	"Who, for God's sake?" Tom screamed at Lee."

	"THEM...THOSE TWO!" Lee replied pointing at his chasers.

	Seeing the two muscular hunks get out of the van halted Jerry and
Eddie in their tracks.

	"Who the fuck are they?" Jerry exclaimed to Eddie. "Batman and
Robin?"

	"Or worse!" Eddie added.

	"WORSE IS RIGHT!" Tom yelled at them. "What the fuck are you doing
to this boy?" Tom walked toward Eddie and Jerry.

	"Well, we're just having a little fun with him!" Eddie replied with
a nervous grin.

	"Looks to me as if you were trying to harm him, from the blood
running down his back!"

	"Oh, that!" Jerry said, "he fell down while we were running after
him. It was all in fun!"

	"That's not true!" Lee screamed. "They killed my best friend and
now they're trying to kill me. There's another one of them, lying out there
in the desert!"

	"Three against one, huh?" Tom asked as Mike joined his side. "Looks
like the odds are more even now...it's three against three!"

	"Ah, shit, man, we got no beef with you. You ain't gonna fight us,
are you?"

	"For starters, I might!" Tom said, holding his ground. Then he
turned to Mike. "Mike, get on the phone and dial '911'. I don't know if the
Fort Worth or Dallas police will answer, but whichever does, tell 'em to
send a highway patrol car out here.

	"You bet I will!" Mike said, "You gonna be all right?"

	"I think so! If I can play quarterback against eleven Bruins, I
ought to be able to handle two punks!"

	"Come on," Mike said to Lee, "let's get you cleaned up and get some
clothes on you."

	"Don't touch me!" Lee said, "I mean, don't let my blood get on
you. I...I think I got AIDS!"

	"Don't worry about that!" Mike assured him. "I've been through that
already and I'm immune to AIDS!"

	Lee gave Mike a puzzled look and followed him inside the
Winnebago. Neither Tom, Jerry, nor Eddie had moved an inch.

	"If either of you has any idea of trying to run away from me, I can
run the dash faster than either of you."

	There was a scuffling sound behind Jerry and Eddie. It was Skip
coming toward them, still holding his crotch.

	"Oh, is that the third musketeer?" Tom asked, seeing Skip.

	"Who the fuck are you?" Skip cried at Tom.

	"Well, since it's morning and you haven't been to sleep apparently,
I can't be your worst nightmare, so I guess I'm your worst wake-up call!"
Tom said. "I heard you guys murdered someone. Is that right?"

	"I didn't!" Jerry said, "it was him!" pointing at Eddie.

	"Did you see it?" Tom asked.

	"Yeah."

	"Did you report it to the police?"

	"No."

	"Then that makes you an accessory to murder!" Tom said to Jerry,
and then looked at Skip. "Were you there too, when your friend, here,
murdered someone?"

	"Yeah, but I didn't have anything to do with it!"

	"You're still an accessory after the fact."

	"What the fuck is it to you, anyway?" Skip yelled at Tom.

	"I'll answer that when you tell me why this kid that you were
chasing had no clothes on? You weren't trying to rape him, were you? You
know murder gives gays a bad reputation."

	"We ain't gay!" Skip said, "And we ain't queers, neither."

	"Thank God for the gay community's sake, anyway." Tom replied. "So
what were you planning to do to him without his clothes?"

	"Skip was gonna rape him!" Eddie cried out.

	"Shut the fuck up, will you?" Skip hollered at Eddie.

	"Attempted rape AND murder," Tom said. "I hear that Texas laws are
not too lenient on those crimes. You'll probably get the electric chair or
the gas chamber!"

	"I ain't gettin' neither, you son-of-a-bitch!" Skip hollered making
a lunge with his fist toward Tom.

	Tom's huge palm grabbed Skip's fist and Tom bent Skip's wrist
backward until his body crumpled to the ground. With his other fist, Skip
aimed at Tom's crotch, which Tom counteracted by raising his knee hitting
Skip solidly under his chin. Trying to defend Skip, Jerry and Eddie ran
quickly toward Tom as Tom took one of each of their wrists and twisted
until they were on the ground beside Skip.

	"Wanna try something else?" Tom asked, with a warning.

	Skip tried to grab Tom's legs for a second assault attempt when Tom
kicked Skip squarely in the jaw. For good measure, Tom swung both his fists
in opposite directions catching a cheek of both Jerry and Eddie. All three
of the fallen attackers were bleeding profusely from various parts of their
faces.

	Mike came running back to be with Tom. Lee remained safely in the
RV.

	"Need any help?" Mike asked. "The highway patrol is on its way."

	"That's good. Mike, why don't you go inside the van and get some
rope from that chest in the back and we'll make sure that these bandidos
don't try to escape until the posse arrives."

	The situation was serious and dangerous, to say the least, but Mike
couldn't remember when he had had more fun. He hadn't seen his hero being
so brave and manly since the first night he had seen Tom playing
quarterback at Briarwood U. He ran and got the rope. Tom took Skip's knife
and cut the rope evenly to tie up the night marauders.

	Ten minutes later, official Texas handcuffs replaced the ropes on
the three. They were hauled off to the county jail while another squad of
officers wrote down the details of the atrocious ordeal.

	Soon the highway patrol cars left and Mike and Tom went inside the
Winnebago to see to Lee's wounds. Mike had done the best first-aid that he
knew how to do, but Lee's back was still bleeding. Tom reached for another
bandage but Mike stopped him.

	"Uh uh, you can't touch him, but I can!" Mike said. Mike took the
gauze and tape and tried to a better job bandaging Lee. Tom asked a
multitude of questions at Lee, getting all the facts concerning the
possibilities of Lee's having the AIDS virus. Mike told them everything,
even about his one and only jerkoff session with Buddy. He told them about
Dr. Gonzalez, about his father, the puritanical preacher, about Jake,
everything, leaving no stone unturned.

	"Sounds as if we'd better go back to Dallas and have Lee admitted
to the hospital," Mike said to Tom.

	"NO! NO! I can't go there!" Lee said. "I have no money, no
insurance, I can't go there, really!"

	"Don't worry about a thing!" Mike said, "I know Dr. Frye at the
Dallas Center for AIDS. He's chief of staff there, and a good friend of
mine. I think he might be willing to do me a favor, if I ask him. I don't
think you'll have to worry about money, insurance, or anything else after I
talk with him!"

	"What are you two guys, some kind of angels?" Lee asked in wonder.

	"No, but we know a lot of 'em!" Mike said.

	"Come on, guys, buckle up!" Tom said. "We're going to Dallas."

	"WAIT! WAIT!" Mike exclaimed at Tom.

	"What is it?"

	"Would you take the time for me to go outside just once more?"

	"For what? What did you lose?"

	"Nothing, Tom...but I think I saw a couple of small cacti, growing
along the road."

	"Now that's a sure fired reason to postpone our journey!" Tom
kidded. "For heaven's sake, run outside and dig up a few!"

	"Thanks, babe, I won't be but a minute!"

	Mike jumped out of the RV with a small spade and two clay pots. He
was happy as a prairie jackrabbit.


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(To be continued in "I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes-Six"-chapter-72)