Date: Fri, 21 Nov 2003 11:11:04 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Out of the Night," ch. 11

The following narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between
men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

This is a work of fiction.  No similarity between the characters here and
any real person is intended or should be inferred.  Lake Polk is a
fictional town, though I fear it is like many real communities.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

This next item is a bit late because I've been away for a couple of weeks.
For fans of Evan Bradley and "Ambush," the good news is that Evan has begun
posting his new series, "The Crew," in the Adult Friends section.  Welcome
back, maestro!

As "Out of the Night" comes to an end, I want to thank Tommy once more for
patiently editing all these chapters, as well as for helpful suggestions
throughout.  Patrick has also read each chapter and, one way or another,
helped make it better.  As always, my thanks go to Evan, Ash, and Mickey
for their encouragement and support.

Timmead88@Yahoo.com
Chapter 11

MARK:


When I got off the phone with Pops, I called Ced.  I mean, he's still my
best friend.  Who else would I call?  I explained what was happening, and
he said right off that he wouldn't miss coming.  Then he said to hold the
line.  I could hear him talking to Tim, but he must have had his hand over
the phone.

"Mark, this is Tim.  I want to come too."

"Hey, Tim, that's great.  Pops will be so glad to see you!"

"Now listen, Mark.  I don't know how many guys you're going to be able to
round up for this.  I'll bet both Chaz and Trey will come along.  May I
invite Max and David?  And how about Steve Metz?"

"Tim, I'm going to call Chaz and Trey next.  Would you call Father Max?
And I'll call Steve.  But please, help me do this quickly, so we can see
about reservations."

"You got it, Mark.  Oh, and Mark, I would like to help with the cost of all
this if any of the guys can't afford the plane fare right now."

"Not to worry, Tim.  Pops says he'll pick up the tab this time."

"Oh, there's no reason why he should do that."

"Tim, you can argue about that with my dad if you must, but right now, we
have to get cracking.  OK?"

"Yeah, Mark.  Ced and I will get busy and get back to you.  Bye for now."

"Bye, Tim.  Thanks."

When I called, Trey answered.  I explained for a second time what had
happened and what was up.

"Markie, you KNOW we'll come.  Just a minute."

"OK."

As before, he was back online in a flash.  "Mark, count us both in.  What
can we do to help?  Can I help with the tickets?"

"I knew I could count on my brothers.  You know Ced and Tim are both
coming.  Do you think Steve Metz would be willing to join us?  Tim's asking
Father Max if he and David want to come."

"Mark, I'll call Steve.  I'll bet he'd like to come.  And I've just had
another idea.  How about Geoff Benton and Philip Halifax?  I think they are
a couple now.  Geoff may not be able to get away, but this sounds like
something Philip wouldn't want to miss."

"Well, there's safety in numbers.  By all means, bro, ask `em all.  But ya
gotta do it quickly, so I can start working on plane reservations."

"I'll call you back in less than an hour, OK?"

"Right, Tiger.  Thanks, man."

"You got it, Markie!"

Do I have great friends or what?  Within an hour, I had learned that Geoff
had a gig and couldn't come.  But Phil Halifax, Steve Metz, Father Max
Hewitt, and all of "the Brotherhood" were coming.  So all I had to do was
finagle reservations for us.  Everyone had been told about Pops' offer of
the extra day at Disney, and they all said they thought they could avoid
their campus responsibilities for that extra day.

We had a real stroke of luck with the tickets.  Apparently we hit the lull
between Thanksgiving and Christmas and were able to get eight return
tickets on a Continental direct flight from Cleveland to Waltersburg and
back.

I called Ced and Trey (got Chaz instead) and gave them the flight
information.  He said they'd pass the word on to the others.  Tim told me
Father Max said David was sorry he couldn't come, but he had to be in
Chicago on business those days and couldn't possibly get away.

I sent Pops an email giving him the details.  We were to arrive in
Waltersburg at 1:33 on Monday.  I made arrangements for two Sebring
convertibles to be there for us when we arrived.  I figured we might as
well enjoy some sun while we were there, and each car would handle four of
us.


* * *


STAN:


I don't know quite where the weekend went.  Doug and I were actually able
to get some placards printed that said things like, "GOD LOVES ALL HIS
CHILDREN, WHY DOES BISHOP WENN HATE GAYS?"  We went to Home Depot and
bought sticks to attach the signs to.

Saturday evening we went to Fridays for dinner.  We asked to be seated at
one of Adam's tables.  When he had brought us our wine, he said, "It's good
you two finally got together.  Even on campus we've heard about what's been
going on with you, though, and I want to say it sucks!"

Doug grinned at him.  Those two seemed connected from the first time I saw
them together.  I knew there was nothing physical between them, but I could
tell they both just liked each other.  And, of course, each knew the other
was gay without a word ever having been said.  "Adam, you may not have
heard the latest."

He proceeded to tell Adam about his having lost his lay minister's license
and then told him about the protest that was planned for Tuesday.

Adam's eyes lighted up.  "Tell me where this cathedral is and when you want
me.  I'll be there.  That's so cool.  I've never been in a demonstration
before."

"Don't you have classes Tuesday?" I asked.

He flashed me the grin and said, "Yeah, but I have no cuts yet this
semester.  It won't matter if I'm not there Tuesday."

"Adam," Doug said, grabbing Adam's left hand with his right, "you don't
have to do this.  But if you want to join us, we'd be happy to have you
there."

"Count on it!"  Then he left to go put in the order for our dinners.

Doug looked at me, his eyes shining (I don't know whether from tears or
excitement), and said, "Babe, this is incredible.  I still can't believe
that Mark found seven others to come all the way down from Ohio.  And now
Adam is going to be there with us, too!"

"Yeah," I said, "it sort of restores your faith, doesn't it, Dougie?"


Sunday morning Doug and I drove to Parkerville to the biggest Episcopal
Church in that city.  It was large and impersonal.  The interior of
St. Stephen's was dark and cool.  The choir sang beautifully.  The homily
was brief.  The Eucharist was pretty much the same as it is in every
Episcopal Church.  We shook hands with the priest as we left.  We had done
our religious duty, but it didn't feel right.  It was just too impersonal.


* * *


DOUG:


I was nervous all weekend, excited, I suppose, about what was coming up.  I
was really happy at the prospect of meeting Mark and his "Brotherhood."
Stan had told me so much about Cedric, Trey, Chaz, and Tim.  I'd talked
with Mark on the phone, and I sensed that he was a really fine young man,
but it would be good to get a look at -- my stepson?

Stan and I did various things over the weekend, one of which was to talk
about what we were going to do with our lives now that he had resigned as
city manager.  We were beginning to work out a plan.


Monday the phone rang at 1:45.  It was Mark.  They had deplaned and claimed
their luggage, so they were ready to pick up their cars and come to Lake
Polk.

About an hour later, they pulled into my driveway.  We knew they had
arrived because we could hear the radios blasting.  We learned later that
they had tuned both radios to the same station.  I was afraid they might
have gotten arrested for the noise, but those laws aren't very strictly
enforced in these parts.

Stan and I held hands as we went outside to greet them.  Picture the sight:
Two convertibles, tops down, with four gorgeous young guys in each one.  It
was bout 72 degrees.  The natives were saying how nice it was to have some
cool weather, finally.  But the guys, fresh from December in Ohio, had done
the tourist thing and pulled off their shirts.  It was enough to take your
breath away.  In fact, I think I gasped.  Stan squeezed my hand, knowing
very well how I was reacting.

I recognized the driver of the first car as Mark, for I had seen many
pictures of him at Stan's place.  Next to him was a thin, dark guy I didn't
know.  In the back seat were another thin dark guy with a mustache and
goatee and a short guy with a great chest, lots of muscles, and sort of
chestnut brown hair.

In the second car were three hunks and a guy who had to be Tim Mead.  The
driver of the second car had tawny blond hair.  Next to him was a very tall
fellow with hair about like mine and these very pale blue eyes.  That had
to be Trey and Chaz.  In the back were a really handsome black guy,
beautifully put together like the two studs in the front, and then this
short, pale one with dark red hair.  That had to be Cedric and Tim.  I
noticed that, though Tim was slight of build, he obviously worked out
enough to have well defined abs and decent muscles in his arms and
shoulders.  He was adorable.  I decided I'd have to remember when I talked
with him that he was a professional colleague and try to forget how cute he
was.

They were all obviously in high spirits, talking and laughing as they piled
out of the two cars.

It's hard to remember exactly what happened next.  Mark and his "brothers"
all mobbed Stan, hugging, slapping backs, laughing.  Even Tim came up and
hugged Stan.  The two thin, dark guys and the stocky one with the chestnut
hair were sort of holding back, smiling, waiting to be introduced.  I found
out that one of the two dark guys I couldn't identify was Steve Metz, who
had recently become a sort of honorary member of the Brotherhood.  He was
the guy who had been attacked the previous summer in the parking lot of his
apartment house.  The other dark guy, the one with the `stache and beard,
was introduced as Philip Halifax, a friend of Trey's who was the president
of the campus Gay/Straight Alliance.  The short guy was Max Hewitt, Tim's
best friend from college and the curate at the church Mark attended.
Eventually we all got sorted out, introductions were performed along with
more hugs, and we went inside.

I thought my house was roomy, but when eight young men were added to Stan
and me, there were hunks everywhere.  I didn't know where to look.  And,
while everyone was talking at once, I caught Stan's eye.  He grinned back.
He knew exactly what I was thinking because he wiggled his eyebrows up and
down.

We had lots of beer on hand, plus wine.  Tim chose wine, which shouldn't
have surprised me, I suppose, but so did Trey, Cedric, and Max.  There were
people in the living room, the family room, and the screen room.  It was a
fluid group.  Stan moved about, visiting with Mark and his friends.  I
replenished drinks and chatted as I could.  I don't know how to describe
the feeling.  Here were a house full of beautiful men, two of whom were
straight, and the rest gay.  There was so much obvious good feeling flowing
it was palpable.  I made a point of sitting and chatting with Philip
Halifax for a while.  He was a very intense, dynamic young man, dedicated
to advancing the cause of acceptance for GLBT people on his campus, and
excited about being here to take part in the next day's protest.

Steve Metz was a charming kid.  I thanked him for coming and asked why he
had decided to do it.  He told me that he considered Tim, Ced, Trey, and
Chaz his best friends.  He also told me that he had stayed with Max while
he was recovering from his cracked ribs, and that he considered Max a good
friend.  When those guys all decided to come, he knew he needed to be here,
too.  He also said that he was coming to know Mark and Lori because he and
his new girlfriend Becca had been double dating with them.  And that it had
been Lori who first set all that up.  As I chatted with him, it became
obvious that he was bright, had a wonderful sense of humor, and didn't take
any guff from anyone.

When the house began to darken, it occurred to me that these guys must be
hungry.  I realized to my chagrin that they probably hadn't had a decent
lunch on the plane.  I picked up the phone and ordered in ten large pizzas
with various toppings.  Then I went into the kitchen and began making a
huge bowl of salad.  Two hours later the salad was gone, there was hardly
any of the pizza left, and guys were sprawled all over the place.

The decibel level had diminished somewhat as the group ate and mellowed
out, but the love and good feelings flowing around the room were still
clearly present.  I made a point of chatting with each of the guys during
the course of the evening and began to marvel that such a group of
remarkable people had come together, especially since each one was so
damned sexy in his own way.

Tim intrigued me.  He was, after all, despite his youth, a colleague, even
to the point of having a similar specialty -- American fiction of the early
20th century.  At first he seemed deferential, probably, I suspected,
because I'm old enough to be his father, but the more he talked, the more
respect I developed for him.  I hoped he and I would get a chance to have a
longer, more private talk while they were here.

Stan had described most of these men to me.  He didn't know Steve or Philip
or Max, but he knew the others well.  Nevertheless, it was fascinating for
me to talk with each of them, making my own assessment of them.  Each of
them had his own power, and they all obviously loved one another.
Remarkable.


It had been decided that Mark and Steve would share Stan's guest room,
which had twin beds.  The others were staying at the Hampton.

When the party wound down, we reminded the guys to put the tops up on their
convertibles and arranged for everyone to meet back here at 8:30 the next
morning so we could caravan to the Cathedral in Waltersburg.


* * *


MARK:


It was great, of course, to see Pops.  And to meet Doug.  At first I didn't
see what made Pops fall for him so quickly, but as I watched him, and you
better believe I was watching him, I began to see the attraction.  He had a
sexy smile.  As Pops said, he had a wonderful voice.  And there was a sense
that he was concerned about you when he looked at your or talked with you.
When you had his attention, it was all about YOU.  Not only that, but he
and Pops were obviously so much in love.  They were like Ced and Tim.
Little touches here and there, quick looks, smiles.  They moved around,
seeing to our needs, chatting with us as a team, each complementing the
other.  I was sure before that evening was over that my dad had found the
guy he'd been looking for, and it was equally obvious that Doug was totally
in love with Pops.

When it came time for the guys to go to the Hampton, Tim drove one car, and
Max drove the other.  They were the only ones who hadn't had too much to
drink.  I was glad I was staying at Pops' place and could ride there with
him.  We had to take Doug's big Buick to get there, though, because we had
Steve with us, and the T-Bird could only seat two.

The next morning, the guys who stayed at the Hampton were able to have
their breakfast there, and we three went to Doug's for breakfast.

At about 8:15, everyone was back at Doug's, and we set out for the
Cathedral.  All the signs were in the trunk of the Buick.


* * *


DOUG:


The morning of my protest, I should say OUR protest in view of all the
people who showed up to help, arrived.  It was a coolish morning for
Florida, but we were promised another sunny day with a high in the upper
60's.  We took the Buick and one of the Sebrings to Waltersburg.

Just after we arrived, a police cruiser pulled up.  The officers wanted to
see our permit, which Stan showed them.  They warned us not to block either
pedestrian or vehicular traffic, not to litter.  We were visited by one
cruiser or another about every hour all day long, thought they didn't
hassle us.  But then, we did as we were instructed and never caused any
disturbance.

We hadn't been there long when our ranks were swelled by the arrival of,
Adam, Aaron, and Blair.  I was amazed.  They reminded me that, because
Lloyd was a very small college, they all knew each other.  Aaron had sought
out Blair, and then they had bumped into Adam.  They got to talking over
the weekend about what had happened to Stan and me.  Blair told the other
two about the protest, and they all decided to come.  I was moved to tears,
of course, and told them so.  They all gave me a hug, including Blair,
believe it or not.  And then they took their turns at handing out flyers
and carrying signs.  I was worried about Aaron because he was the only one
of the whole group who really looked gay.  I thought he might be subject to
more verbal abuse than the rest of us.  He seemed OK though.  Several times
I saw him smiling broadly, in animated conversation with people to whom he
was handing out the flyers.

Another arrival surprised Stan and me.  Not long after the three guys from
Lloyd U. arrived, we saw Reggie Price, his son Chad, and his mother,
"Mama," walking toward us.  I rushed over to them.  Reggie hugged me.  Chad
shook hands, looking embarrassed.  And Mama gave both of us big hugs.
"What are you doing here?"  I asked.

"Well, young man," Mama said, "you didn't tell us what you were up to.  We
had to learn it from Aaron over there.  But when he told us what you had
planned, we just had to come and help."

I gulped.  "You know Aaron?"

Mama, who was wearing a flowered print dress and a hat, as if she were
going to church, laughed and said, "I've know that chile since he was in
diapers.  His mother goes to our church, and I've watched him grow up. Li'l
Aaron was the first gay chile I ever knew.  And he's so sweet natured you
just have to love him!"

"Well, Mama," I said, "you are the only woman here.  I am worried that
things might become unpleasant for you.  Are you sure you want to stay?"

She laughed.  "Douglas, I was in Birmingham.  Nothing's gonna happen here
that I can't handle!"

I hugged her again.  Stan, who had been standing next to me and smiling
broadly the whole time, gave Chad a sign to carry and handed a stack of
leaflets to both Reggie and Mama.

"I just want to put in my two cents' worth," he said.  "You are a very
special family, and Doug and I are touched more than we can say that you
are here."

Always eloquent, I said "Yeah."

There was a lot of pedestrian traffic into and out of and up and down the
sidewalk in front of the Cathedral.  Some people simply refused the flyers
we tried to give them.  Some stopped to ask what was going on.  Others
acted as if we had the plague.  When we compared notes later, just about
everyone had been called a pervert or an abomination in the sight of God or
something equally bad at least once.  Blair asked me at one point what
anathema meant.  When I told him, he chuckled.  "I wonder what my priest
would say if he knew that?"  I wondered what his priest would say if he
knew Blair was here, but I didn't say so.  I supposed the poor kid would
have to confess that eventually.

Late in the morning, the media began to show up.  There was a reporter and
a photographer with the Waltersburg Sentinel.  They interviewed and took
pictures of me.  Then they talked with some of the others and took a few
more pictures.  Later on, there were crews from three of the local
television stations.

Although there were all sorts of clerics, as well as lay persons, going in
and out of the Cathedral, we never saw my favorite canon or Bishop Wenn,
but then I hadn't expected to.

I noticed that several of the Ohio guys were in earnest conversation with
passers-by from time to time.

During the middle of the day, I went among the others and sent them off a
few at a time to get some lunch, but Stan and I stayed there.  When Trey,
Chaz, and Mark came back from their lunch, they brought us each a burger
and a soda.  We were careful to find a proper receptacle in which to put
our paper trash.

Finally, at 5:00 we packed it in.  I was tremendously grateful to everyone
for being there, but I must admit I was a little disappointed.  There was
no confrontation.  If we made any impression on the bishop or the powers
that be in the diocese, I couldn't see it.

We stopped at an IHOP on the way back to Lake Polk and fed the whole crew,
including Adam, Aaron, and Blair.  The Prices begged off, saying that Beth
was expecting them for supper and she was worried about them, so they
needed to get home.

I was exhausted.  I think even Stan was a little tired.  But the boys
seemed exhilarated.  The Ohio crowd were in deep conversation with the
local guys.  I noticed Ced and Tim in intense conversation with Aaron at
one point, and Father Max seemed to be having a good talk with Blair.
Adam, Trey, and Chaz were chuckling about something and looking over at
Stan and me, and I suspected Adam was telling them about the evening when
Stan and I had dinner together and Adam helped us realize that we were both
gay.

We all arrived back at my place about 8:00.  We asked the three local guys
to join us, but they said they had classes to prepare for the next day and
needed to get back to campus.  I thanked all three of them profusely, and
then there was a huge round of hugs.  Everybody in the Ohio group wanted to
hug them, pound them on the back, high five with them, or something.  At
one point I saw Mark and Blair exchanging email addresses.

Stan and I broke out the beer and wine, and the rest of the evening was
spent in post mortems, comparing notes, enjoying just being together.

I managed to get with Tim to ask him how much he had been looking forward
to going to Disney.  He said he had been there often enough and would go
along, but it was no big deal for him.  Then I invited him to stay behind
and go to the Gardens so he and I could chat.  He said that sounded good,
but he'd need to check with Cedric.  While he was doing that, Stan came
over and said that Max wasn't particularly eager to go to Disney either, so
we invited him to go to the Gardens with us, too.

That meant that the next morning, Mark, Philip, Steve, Chaz, Trey, and
Cedric were going to Disney World.  Trey insisted that this was his party
since Stan had paid for the plane fare and the car rentals.  Stan said that
was OK and thanked Trey.

I offered the guys the Buick so the six of them could all go in one car.
Though they took pains to thank me, I think they were horrified at the
thought.  They insisted that they had the two convertibles, so they'd take
both of them.

I always thought college students slept late every chance they got.  I
certainly did when I was an undergraduate.  These guys, however, were up,
had their breakfast and were gone by 8:00.

Tim, Stan, Max, and I had a leisurely breakfast of juice, scrambled eggs,
sausage, pecan rolls, and coffee.

We had watched the local news at 11:00 the previous evening, using two
different television sets.  There was hardly any coverage of our protest.
One station had a 30-second report with a brief video clip.  The others had
apparently decided what we did wasn't newsworthy.  Or else, as Stan
suggested, the Diocese had managed to quash the story. . . .

The Sentinel that morning had a small article with no picture buried in the
third page of the local news section.

Well, so much for embarrassing the bishop, I thought.

[This seems as good a place as any to insert the information that later
there were articles in newspapers in Tampa, Jacksonville, and Miami, none
of which is in the Diocese of Middle Florida.  Moreover, the national
Episcopal newspaper had a full article with pictures about Doug's protest.
There were also articles in the newsletters of Integrity and Oasis.  More
important, there was an article in The Advocate.  So, though Bishop Wenn
had apparently managed to crush local coverage, word did get out.
Moreover, there were some editorials that were highly critical of Bishop
Wenn.  There were letters, too, in the op ed section of several of
Florida's major newspapers critical of the Bishop.  Of course, there were
the usual replies from the bigots as well.]


* * *


STAN:


After the others left, Tim and Doug huddled up over more coffee to talk
shop.  At first I heard them talking about how Dos Passos and Faulkner had
been influenced by James Joyce.  Later, I could hear names like Willa
Cather, Gertrude Stein, Hemingway, e. e. cummings, and others being bandied
about enthusiastically.  Obviously those two, despite the age difference,
had a lot in common, and they seemed to be happy to have found someone with
similar interests and enthusiasms.

Which left Max and me.  I wanted to get to know Max better, but I knew I
had to be careful not to turn him inside out the way I had done Tim when he
first came into Cedric's life.  So, I just asked him to tell me about how
he came to know Tim.

He didn't seem to mind.  He told me they had been close friends at Kenyon.
We were able to talk about Kenyon for a while, since I'm on the Board
there.  He said, rather ruefully, that neither had known the other was gay
at that time, and they had each been super careful not to do anything to
ruin the friendship.  Then he smiled, sighed, and simply said, "the saddest
words . . . . "

I smiled and chimed in, "what might have been."

He nodded.  "Yeah, Stan.  Tim and I could have been good together, but he's
got Cedric, and he's completely happy.  Besides," he said, brightening, "I
have found a great guy myself.  Chaz introduced us.  His name is David."

"You and David?  Wow!  Max, that's great."

"But how did you know about David?"

"Easy, father.  Chaz let Mark read his journal, and Mark just had to tell
his Pops about the fabulous David."

I think Max blushed.  He sort of ducked his chin a little.  Then he looked
up at me and grinned.  "Yeah, David is something else.  Being his friend is
a real ride."  He paused, winked at me, and continued, "So is being his
lover."

I laughed so loud Doug and Tim looked over to see what was going on.

"I just told Stan about David and me," Max explained.  Tim grinned broadly
and gave him a thumbs-up sign.  Doug looked puzzled.

"I'll explain to you later, babe," I said.  Doug smiled, nodded, and turned
back to Tim.

At noon we hopped in the Hearse (Doug's Buick) and made the short drive to
the Gardens.  We had lunch at their cafeteria, taking our salads and
sandwiches outside.  This was a special place for Doug and me because it
was one of the first places where we had eaten together, back when neither
of us knew the other was gay and we were dancing a very careful dance.

It was a beautiful day.  There were a few other people eating, but no one
was sitting close to us, so we could talk unrestrainedly.  Doug began the
story of how we had met, how careful we had both been.  Soon we were all
laughing.

After taking our trays back inside to the designated area, we began walking
under the 80-year-old liveoaks along the paths of the famous garden.  We'd
walk a while and then sit on benches and talk.  At one point Tim and Max
took turns telling us how jealous Cedric had been of Max when he first
showed up.  And how bad they had both felt when they realized they had made
Ced feel that way.

"Well, he's at Disney and you two are here.  What does that tell you?"

They looked at each other and smiled.  "Ced's cool with it now.  Before he
left this morning he kissed me and told me he hoped we four had a good day
together."  Then he looked at Max and grinned.  "Of course, he knows that
you two are here to chaperone us."

"Tim!" Max exclaimed.  "You're bad, man!"

Doug and I took turns telling Max and Tim about the day we had been sitting
on a bench and both got hardons and had to walk back to the car with our
hands in our pockets to hide our stiffies.  Doug then mentioned the thing
about our hands touching when we went to latch the top of the T-Bird.

Tim chuckled.  "You two sound like a couple of young lovers.  No offense."

"None taken," Doug said.  "I think we felt exactly like young lovers.  Do
you think we are foolish?"

Both of the younger men hastened to assure us they didn't think so.

"Mark knows how happy you are, and he's elated for you.  He's gives us an
update on you two every time he sees us.  He rejoices in your happiness.
Pops."

I laughed.  "Thanks a lot, whippersnapper."

Doug, Tim, and Max joined in the laughter.


We spent an hour in the local art museum after we left the Gardens.  Then
we began to think about supper.  Max and Tim insisted that this was to be
their treat.  And they asked us to choose a nice place, saying they'd had
enough burgers and sandwiches.

Doug and I conferred and decided, since the Disney contingent would
probably not be back until late, to drive into Parkerville to the Terrace
Grille, a newly-refurbished upscale restaurant in an old hotel in the
downtown section. We asked if the guys had brought long pants, and they
said they had, so we all went first to Doug's so he and I could put I
khakis, and then to the Hampton so Tim and Max could do the same.

The more I got to know Max, the better I liked him.  I knew that Cedric, my
"other son," was deeply in love with Tim and vice versa, but I couldn't
help thinking that Tim and Max would have made a cute couple.  The same
height, similar backgrounds.  College best friends.  Both in professions
where they were helping people.  I could only hope that David could make
Max happy.

Max was, and is, a hunk.  Not a lot shorter than I am, he is also built a
little like me.  He's pretty muscular, solid.  Not thick, just solid.
Muscular arms and legs.  Great pecs and abs.  Beautiful hair, and eyes a
brown that reminds me of Doug's.  More important than his looks though, was
the inner man I sensed.  Smart.  As smart as Tim, but with a less flashy
intellect.  Warm.  Caring.  Sweet, perhaps.  And a man of total integrity.
In a brief moment when he and I had gotten to chat at the Gardens, Tim told
me that he and Max had been keeping each other on track for years, that
each was the other's conscience.  I was moved that they could have such a
relationship.

We had good wine, good food, and wonderful conversation with these two
young men.  It was easy to forget that Doug and I could have been their
fathers.

After dinner, we drove back to Lake Polk and waited at Doug's house for the
others to get back from Disney.  They arrived about 11:00.  Doug offered
cookies and milk, and that made a big hit.  They went through two recipes
of toll house cookies and over a gallon of milk as they talked about what
all they had done that day.

About midnight, someone mentioned that they had to be at the airport early
to catch their flight back to Cleveland, so they all rose to go.  Doug and
I said good night to the ones who were going back to the Hampton.  You
never saw so much hugging and backthumping.  Then I gave Mark the keys to
the Thunderbird so he and Steve could go back to my place.  I was going to
spend the night with Doug, obviously.  We hugged them, too, since the
others were going to pick them up on their way to the airport the next
morning.

"Mark, send me an email when you get home tomorrow, kiddo!"

"Yeah, Pops."  He paused.  "You know, this stuff isn't over for you and
Doug.  I'll be praying for you both.  You guys hang in there!  And keep us
posted about what's going on."

"You know I will, babe!"


Suddenly, they were all gone, and the house seemed VERY empty.  Doug handed
me a scotch, poured bourbon for himself, and sat next to me on the sofa.

"Well, sweetheart," he said, "it's been an incredible couple of days,
hasn't it?"

I could only agree.


* * *


In the days after the younger men had all gone back to Ohio, Stan and Doug
talked a lot about their future.  Stan had a proposal for Doug.  He wanted
to set up a legal practice in Lake Polk, one that would be primarily for
the poorer residents of the area, those who didn't have access to competent
legal advice.  "If they can pay, fine.  If they can't, I'm not going to
turn them away," he said.  And he wanted Doug to work part time in the
office.  Doug argued that he didn't have any paralegal training.  Stan
pointed out that Doug had a PHD and he could train Doug to do what was
needed.  Stan's concern was that Doug might feel like an employee and he
wanted Doug to feel like a partner.

"I know we can work together, Stan.  I have no problem at all with that,
babe.  And I like it that you think you'd only need me, say, half time.
That way, I can get to work in earnest on my novel."

They agreed that they'd give it five years.  If, after that time, they
weren't happy with their lives in Lake Polk they'd pull up stakes and go
somewhere else, San Francisco or New York, or even Key West, perhaps.

Doug sold his house in Colony Heights.  They bought a big, old two-story,
five-bedroom house on Lake Shore Boulevard facing the lake and launched
into the task of renovating and upgrading it.  They wanted to have a place
where all the guys could come and stay when they were in Florida, and the
house became their principal hobby for two years.

With Stan's encouragement, Doug got rid of "The Hearse" and bought a bright
red ( to match the T-Bird) Dodge Dakota pickup truck with a bed cover,
chrome wheels, chrome inserts for the grille, and tan leather seats.  They
decided that as long as they were working on their house, they'd need a
truck to bring home things like drywall from Home Depot.  Then, when the
house was completely renovated, they'd get rid of the truck and buy
something else.  Doug, who'd been doing his homework, was thinking
longingly of an MG from the early 1950's, but he never told Stan about it.

Doug asked to be excused from his volunteer work at the Gardens, and Bruce
regretfully agreed.

They began to drive into Cypress Haven to go to church.  Doug didn't get
his LEM license back, but he always thought that when Bishop Wenn did in
fact retire, he might, if the priest at their new church, Father Martin,
was agreeable, apply for reinstatement.


One night shortly after they had moved into their new house, Doug and
Stanley, having worked all day stripping wallpaper in a couple of the guest
rooms, took a long, slow, loving shower together.  Then they dried off and
fell naked into bed.  Though they were tired, nature took its course, and
soon they were in the throes of a vigorous fuck session.

Later, both spent, they were lying on their backs with their hands clasped
behind their heads

Stan began to recite:

 "Out of the night that covers me,
 Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
 I thank whatever gods may be
 For my unconquerable soul."

Doug chuckled as he turned to run his fingers through his partner's chest
hair.  "Stanley, what on earth made you think of that corny old chestnut?"

 "In the fell clutch of circumstance
  I have not winced nor cried aloud.
 Under the bludgeonings of chance
 My head is bloody, but unbow'd."

"Well, Dougie, maybe it's melodramatic, but it seems kind of appropriate
doesn't it?"

 "Beyond this place of wrath and tears
 Looms but the horror of the shade,
 And yet the menace of the years,
 Finds, and shall find, me unafraid."

"You idiot.  I suppose it does, in its Victorian way."

Doug joined Stan in reciting the last stanza:

 "It matters not how strait the gate,
 How charged with punishment the scroll,
 I am the master of my fate:
 I am the captain of my soul."

Giggling like boys, they turned and put their arms around each other.


THE END


[In case you were never required to memorize it, the poem above is
"Invictus," by 19th-century British poet, William Ernest Henley.

Although this chapter is the end of "Out of the Night," at least for now, a
chapter 12 will be posted soon as a sort of addendum.  Entitled "Rick's
Story," it will allow the guy who brought Doug's teaching career to an end
to say a few words.

Thanks to all of you who have written about OOTN. I've really appreciated
your letters and support.

Another chapter of "Dr. Tim and the Boys" will be posted in about a week.
T.M.]