Date: Tue, 15 Mar 2016 18:58:50 -0400
From: Jesse McMillan <writingafewstories@gmail.com>
Subject: Giving Us A Chance, Chapter 13

Though there were no more insinuating remarks or sneers from Dylan, the
rest of the day proved torturously awkward. That evening after he'd
provoked Mason into losing his temper Dylan did indeed arrive promptly at
the dinner table, sullen and dour. Though Aidan had chosen to spend the
evening grilling on the patio in the frigid temperatures "for something
special for Dylan" the boy hardly took three bites of the steak, baked
potatoes, and roasted seasoned corn they'd picked up from the market before
returning earlier in the day. Instead he chose to sit glaring at the
half-filled glass of soda he'd been served, his occasional gaze shooting
darts at Mason.

Mason knew he should've been worried about Aidan's reaction when he
realized Mason and Dylan had had words the first evening off. But the more
he silently stewed over his own dinner, stabbing murderously at his
half-eaten steak, the more his own stubbornness reared and roared within
him. How dare that little whelp come into their house, into his and Mason's
home, and immediately start making remarks about his and Aidan's
relationship!

How dare he, now having some idea about the truth of his and Aidan's
biological tie and his own conception, come into this house spouting his
father's self-righteous hypocrisies about whether gay men were right or
wrong to love! Bradley McManus had slept with half the women in the county
before leaving to take care of this boy! But as the evening progressed, and
he kept finding himself under Aidan's piercing questioning gaze, Mason knew
it was no good. Aidan might as well know the truth!

Mason took his time that evening in facing the discussion he knew was
coming with Aidan. "There was no rush," he told himself. After all he'd
have to face Aidan's fury over what he'd said to his younger brother soon
enough, and there were dishes to do! So with the excuse of "giving Aidan
and Dylan time together" Mason set about keeping busy and out of the way
for much of the evening. The only problem with this was that he'd no more
than set to his chores than a quiet voice spoke from the doorway, causing
his heart to practically halt its rhythm within him.

"So, you've already had a row, have you?"

Mason braced himself for the oncoming explosion of Aidan's anger he feared
was rumbling just beneath the surface. But when he turned to face Aidan he
found him heaving with silent laughter! Mason stared at Aidan for a moment,
not sure what to make of the scene before him. Unsure of how to judge
Aidan's reaction he began spluttering an offer of apology. "Look, I was
going to talk to you about this, really I was! I planned to speak with you
about it tonight, when we had some private time. I'm afraid.......well, you
probably already know I lost my temper and said some hateful things. But he
was deliberately pushing my buttons! He......he...."

Aidan casually pushed away from where he'd been leaned against the
doorpost, his laughter now filling the house. Despite his best effort to
remain calm Mason felt himself tense as two strong arms swiftly wrapped
around him and jerked him into a crushing hold. But when he chanced a
glance into the two blue eyes that sparkled down at him he was relieved to
realize that they shown with a mischievous light, and a deep voice rumbled
in a half-whisper. "And here I was worried about being the one who would
get mad and let him have it! You're turning into a little spitfire, you
know that?" Mason practically collapsed against the counter as Aidan
released him, winked and headed back out of the kitchen, offering one last
explanation over his shoulder.

"Oh, and by the way.............I was in our bedroom when it happened, your
getting upset...........I overheard the whole thing!"

============================================================================

If Aidan and Mason had hoped for some sign of progress throughout the
following weeks they were to be sorely disappointed. Though Aidan blamed
Mason for nothing, it seemed Dylan was determined to hold some unspoken
grudge against the two of them for they're being together. He remained
steadfastly as silent and sullen as ever each time he came into a room
where they were to be found. Most days he spent his hours reading or
roaming the mountaintop bald when the weather was fit for outdoor activity,
anywhere away from them. It seemed he was determined to never allow them to
forget how he felt, or rather as they suspected, how his father felt about
their relationship.

Many nights Mason was to lie awake as Aidan grumbled about his father's
hypocrisy of seemingly instilling the young man with such high moral
standards on certain issues, only to have conveniently forgotten to explain
and instruct him in others. Though Mason didn't want to widen the rift
between Aidan and his father, especially during this time when Brad was
facing a terminal illness, he had to agree. It seemed more than a little
bit of a double standard to preach about one sin and neglect another! But
regardless of what effort either of them made to reach out to the young man
who now cohabited with them their attempts and offers of some form of
family life were rejected.

Finally came the day when Aidan came thundering down the hall of the second
floor, his eyes ablaze and his jaw firm, thundering to Mason as he landed
at the bottom of the stair. "I've had it! I tell you enough is enough! I've
tried everything I can think of to reach out to that kid. We've offered him
everything from video games and cell phones, to fishing rods and shotguns!
I've offered to sign him up for sports teams at the high school while he's
here, or even taking music or art classes if he wanted, but nothing gets
through to him! He's made his mind up he wants to sit up in that room and
pout from now until doomsday, so let him do it!"

Mason watched Aidan wrench the refrigerator door open and grab a pre-made
protein shake before slouching back up the stairs toward his workout room,
his heart aching for Aidan. Aidan had promised him with his sworn word that
he didn't hold Mason responsible for the way the young man was acting. But
still Mason couldn't help but feel more than a bit guilty as he recalled
the first afternoon Dylan had arrived. He'd said some pretty ugly things to
the young man, and more than once since then he'd wondered if he might not
have made things worse between Dylan and Aidan. But if only there was
something he could do!

============================================================================

The obnoxious bell gave a teeth-chattering ring that echoed along the
hallway. The warning bell....Dang! He was gonna be late again! Dylan
hurried along the hallway, now practically deserted, save for a few
stragglers and the few students who'd taken the long ride from the distant
part of the county with him. He grumbled to himself for the thousandth time
that morning, wishing on one hand that the bus could've arrived five
minutes earlier, but knowing that would've meant him having to crawl out of
bed that much earlier than he already resented doing. Why on God's green
earth did they have to live on top of that stupid mountain?!

He hurried along the corridors of the Math Department, his ears growing
ever more aware of all footsteps but his own disappearing into various
rooms along the hallway. He hated being late! Stupid bus driver! He would
have to ride the bus driven by some old geezer who did half the speed
limit! He wouldn't have minded being so late to some of his other classes,
but this was Mr Webb! Dylan's heart skipped a beat at the thought. Mr
Webb. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something he'd always liked
about his algebra teacher.

Chad Webb wasn't like the other old fossils who roamed the halls. At only
around 35 he was still a tall, muscular man who held the respect and
admiration of his students. He had a way of making what, at least to Dylan,
normally would've been one of the most boring subjects in school a rather
enjoyable experience. It wasn't as if algebra was Dylan's best subject. Oh,
heck no! In fact Dylan had struggled to play catch-up since moving in with
his older brother. But Mr Webb had been so kind as to offer to spend some
time after school each day with Dylan, until he'd caught up with his
classmates.

Normally spending any more time around school than necessary would've been
the last thing Dylan would've been interested in. He hated school! He
would've never considered spending extra hours around school campus had Mr
Webb not phoned Aidan one night and explained that he believed Dylan to
need a bit of extra help. But hesitant as Dylan had been to consider the
idea of "tutoring" it had taken only a couple of after-hour visits to Mr
Webb's classroom to change his mind.  Mr Webb was........there was no other
way to say it.....cool!

He was an athletic man ( anyone could tell that just by looking at those
snug shirts he wore!) He wasn't as brawny as Aidan, but anyone who spent as
much time staring at someone as Dylan spent staring at Chad Webb could
still see that he was quite lean and trim! Dylan guessed all that running
up and down the soccer field with the kids he coached had something to do
with that. But that was another thing Dylan liked about Mr Webb; he wasn't
your typical football jock! Athletic as he was, he was also a Star Trek
fan, and he liked old musicals! While most of the kids bemoaned "Mr Webb's
stupidity" for quoting Brigadoon and Singing In the Rain, Dylan clung to
every word as though it were the last he'd hear.

Mr Webb liked One Direction.............how cool was that?! Most old
people, Aidan's age and older didn't care for that stuff. But on more than
one occasion Dylan and Mr Webb had spent time having heated mock arguments
over "which album was the best," and "which of Harry's tattoos was
coolest." Yes, the simple fact was that Chad Webb had turned out to be the
best friend Dylan had since moving here to this cowtown!

He mentally shook himself as he simultaneously reached for the door and
checked his watch on his other arm. Oh crap! 9:05! He couldn't believe he'd
just spent the last five minutes daydreaming about "how cool" a teacher
was! He turned the nob, hastily but quietly as he could, and crept toward
an empty desk along the back row.He was going to have to be more
careful. If he didn't watch where he allowed his mind to wonder he'd wind
up acting just as strange as that.........that gay at Aidan's house!

============================================================================

Paul Williams had been Aidan's closest friend throughout his time in the
service. While a few years older than the group of boys he'd been in charge
of "making soldiers out of," Sergeant Williams had still been young enough
to earn the respect, and more importantly friendship of his charges. A
southerner himself, he and Aidan had struck an immediate friendship that
had lasted throughout basic training, and two tours of duty in the Middle
East, where the beloved sergeant had requested transfer to serve alongside
Aidan's own company.

A robust, larger-than-life personality, Williams had been the subject of
many of Aidan's stories and recollections of their time together in the
service. But Williams' military career had taken a tragic turn of events
during the last month of the company's being stationed in Iraq. Suffering
life-threatening wounds from an IED blast, Williams had been flown back to
the States as soon as his condition had been stabilized sufficiently for
him to safely make the trip. But the road to recovery had been a long,
painful one for Paul Williams.

As fate was to have it Williams had lost a leg and sight in one of his eyes
due to the blast that had nearly taken his life that day on the dusty roads
of Iraq. Though once again a jovial, seemingly carefree personality,
Williams had spent two excruciating years being constantly moved from
hospital to rehab facility for yet more skin grafts and therapy in hopes of
reconstructing his scarred body, and that he might one day regain his
mobility. But though many of his former friends and comrades had shied away
from their once-beloved superior, not being able to cope with the effects
and scars of Williams' wounds themselves, Aidan's own loyalty to the
wounded warrior had grown, if possible, fiercer.

Hardly a day went by that either Aidan or Williams didn't phone the
other. It amazed Mason at how the one-time sergeant, known for "busting a
man's ass if he didn't tow his line," had transformed and mellowed into a
mild, soft-spoken southern gentleman who's deep voice rumbled pleasantly
across the telephone. Mason often listened quietly outside the door of the
den or other rooms where Aidan's and his friend's conversations took place
and marveled at the simple, genuine friendship that had grown between them
from the torturous conditions they'd face together.

Sometimes their conversations were of the simplest of things, the weather,
or a football game. But then again two men such as they, two men who'd seen
the worst of life and humanity, knew how to appreciate the simplest of
blessings in life! Soldiers such as they knew just how precious life was,
just how great a blessing each day of life truly was, and they knew to
appreciate those little things. Mason often stood just outside a doorway
with a smile as he listened to the chatter and natter between his beloved
Aidan and his own friend. But as the winter days slowly transformed into
the first early days of springtime Mason noticed a worrying change. The
calls from Williams became fewer and fewer until one day he and Aidan both
realized that they'd stopped altogether.

For a time Aidan merely shrugged the fact off as a possibility of a family
vacation, or a sudden, unexpected trip out of town. ( "Maybe he just needed
to get away for a while! ") But as the time since their last conversation
grew ever longer Mason noticed that Aidan did seem a bit worried about his
friend. Mason attempted to assure Aidan in every way he thought possible as
to his friend's sudden disappearance. But eventually came the telephone
call, late one rainy spring night, that brought terrible news. Williams had
contracted an infection during his last surgery for skin grafting, and was
now in critical condition. His wife's call had ended quite ominously. ("If
you want to see Paul alive you might want to get down here quick!")

Mason had helped Aidan hastily pack a bag of clothes for the trip to
Williams' Savannah home, and had wished him safe travel. But as he listened
to the muffled rumble of the Mustang, already well out of sight, he
couldn't help but worry. What was he going to do about Dylan? The kid hated
him! There was no sense in sugar coating the truth. The boy couldn't have
made his feelings for Mason any clearer during the time he'd been here; he
resented everything about Mason! Mason sadly shook his head as he listened
to the last echoes of Aidan's mustang. He couldn't explain what he felt,
but there was more wrong than just Paul Williams. Something wasn't
right. And though he'd never been one for instinct and "gut feelings,"
something told him his uneasiness had to do with Dylan.