Date: Mon, 13 Apr 2009 08:37:39 -0400
From: chris james <drmeta4@gmail.com>
Subject: Seasons for the Boy, Epilogue

Dear Reader: the following is a story of adult fiction, persons under the
age of 18 age are not permitted to view this material.

	And end to a story, a moment of elation before I begin anew,
another task awaits my time and energy. Thank you, to the readers who have
followed along as I tried to give you something of quality, and to the man
who edits my foolish errors and kindly points them out, thank you Wayne.
(Wayne's own work's of fiction may be found on Nifty in the authors list
under Wayne Telfer)

	I never feel sorrow at ending a story, only the joy of
accomplishment. A new series begins in just a few short days. Adam Conquers
Earth, a love story about a very special boy and his man. It's always love
between two deserving characters that inspires me to write, it always works
best when I love the characters myself. As always, all comments
welcomed. Chris James.

drmeta4@gmail.com



				Seasons for the Boy (M/B)

Epilogue

	On a clear spring morning the sun gleamed off the peaks of the
Presidential Range, reflecting its light off the snow cap on
Mt. Washington. The quiet solitude of New Bridge was disturbed now only by
the solid influx of tourists who had wandered off the Interstate. New faces
had begun to appear in town over the years, new families moving in, and new
businesses opening.

	Over in Littleton the calls of the young boys on the playing fields
echoed between the buildings, Bradford Academy was alive and well. A
solitary figure made its way slowly across the campus heading for the main
building. He walked with a cane now, but Dr. Thorne was still very much a
part of this place, even if he was retired.

	Oh the memories he had of these past twenty-five years. The lives
of his boys, their troubles and triumphs ran like a story in his mind, a
wonderful story. He made his way across to the main building and
paused. Soon...very soon he hoped to see some of them again.

	He entered the building and took the stairs down to the first floor
offices.

	"Good Afternoon, Dr. Thorne," Two boys greeted him with one
voice. Malcolm and Mark Dean, twins in the sophomore class. Thorne still
had a mind for their names...they were still his boys.

	"Good Afternoon, boys...have you seen Mr. Burton?"

	"In his office, sir...we just came from there," Mark said.

	Thorne smiled. "Thank you."

	"You're welcome, sir," They replied in unison.

	Bright children, so much alike. Thorne walked down to the office
and went inside.

	"Robert, how nice to see you," Elias said. "Come in and take a
seat." They had dispensed with formality years before, probably about the
time Elias noticed his first gray hairs.

	"I walk a bit slower, but I still manage. Beautiful day outside and
here you sit," Thorne said, lowering himself carefully into a chair and
propping his cane against the desk.

	Elias laughed. "And I used to tell you the same thing. It goes with
the job. Being headmaster takes a lot of time...but then I'm not telling
you anything new."

	"No, I suppose not. I was wondering, any response on the reunion?"

	"Yes, thirty-two so far, all positive," Elias said.

	"How wonderful, I know we both look forward to seeing those young
men."

	"I have a letter from Neil Dennison," Elias said, "He mentions
you."

	"Oh?" Thorne patted his pockets and frowned. "I seem to have left
my reading glasses at home...would you be so kind?"

	"Yes, I'll be glad to," Elias said, picking up the letter.

	"Dear Elias, it was with great warmth and emotion I read that you
have taken the position of headmaster at the Bradford Academy, how very
fortunate for all those boys who need the guidance of a strong and
compassionate man."

	"He's right you know," Thorne said. "You were my only choice as a
successor. The Board agreed with me completely."

	"Thank you, Robert, now hush or I'll never get through this," Elias
said.

	Thorne chuckled and Elias continued. "The idea of holding a reunion
for the boys from that time period at the school has so much appeal; you
know Jessie and I will be there.

	"Our lives are filled each day with the thoughts of our time at
Bradford, and the lessons we learned. I still look back fondly on the quiet
moments in morning meeting we had with Dr. Thorne and the inspiration he
gave us. Those few minutes of focus inspired me to use the technique with
my students each morning, it brings them the same peace I felt each day.

	"I realize with shame that it's been two years since we last spoke,
my life has not been my own. I hope you have been receiving the news
clippings I've sent along on Jessie's career, I am so very proud of him, we
all are. Adam Marshall and my brother have just left my apartment after a
wonderful evening together, he sends his regards and will also attend the
reunion as will many of our friends. I think your idea..."

	"That's about it, Robert, things get personal after that point,"
Elias said.

	"A fine young man, he has really followed in your footsteps, Elias,
you should be proud," Robert said.

	"Teaching is not for everyone as you well know, and Neil is
becoming a great one."

	Robert sighed. "So many faces from the past, it will be good to see
them again. I know I shouldn't pass judgment, but I think those were the
finest boys we graduated from this school."

	Elias smiled. "I think you might be forgiven for showing a little
favoritism, I agree with you. We always have brilliant minds attending with
each new class, but those days were exceptional. Yes, it will be good to
see them again."

	"Well, I'll leave you to your work," Robert said, reaching for his
cane and standing up slowly. "I believe my plants need a bit of tending and
the garden crew is due at the house this afternoon. I'm teaching them about
potting today. Oh, I'm afraid Dennis Marks will be asking you if he might
have another plant in his room."

	"More? His room looks like a greenhouse now," Elias said, and then
he laughed. "He takes after you, Robert...they all look green and healthy."

	"He's fortunate; they have that southern exposure in Revere
Hall. That was Jessie's room if you recall."

	Elias nodded. "Each generation of boys brings new light into our
lives, Robert. Our cup runneth over in the wealth of new and glorious minds
to teach each year, I am thankful."

	Robert smiled. "How fortunate we are. Good Day to you then...my
students await me."

	"Have a good lesson, and tell Dennis just one more if he pleases,
otherwise I will have to move him into the greenhouse."

	Robert laughed as he made his way out the door. Elias smiled; they
had made the right decision keeping Thorne on campus in his house. The man
would always be a good teacher and Bradford needed every hand it could get.

	He looked out the window and saw the new dorm, Adams Hall. It made
him smile. No one would ever know the secret behind that grand donation,
but the name should have given it away. The Marshall family had become a
solid backer of the school. He could only agree with Robert, those boys had
been a boon to the Academy in so many ways.

	Elias picked up the letter and read the words he could not tell
Robert...not yet anyway.

	"I think your idea of having a reunion to honor Dr. Thorne is a
wonderful tribute to the man and the institution. We all owe him so much
for the way our lives have developed and the success we have all
achieved. All my classmates and the boys from the other classes around us
will be there, I assure you. I have personally phoned and emailed each and
every one, urging them to attend.

	"The timing of that first week in June is impeccable, not just for
me but for Jessie and a host of others, good thinking Elias. Jessie will
just be returning from the tour in Germany and this will seem like a much
needed vacation for us both. Look forward to seeing you my dear friend, all
my love to you and Miguel. Most sincerely, Neil."

	Dear friend...yes, for that is what they had become after all these
years. So many boys had come and gone, but these few had become
friends. The gay group would be proud to see what Tom had wrought with
their little organization, and now they would, if they all showed up...he
could only hope.

	Nora had called the Thayer Hotel the moment Neil had told her about
the reunion. It would be the beginning of tourist season but the management
there remembered her fondly, they gave her sixteen rooms in a lock solid
reservation for the entire first week of June.

	She was happy to go along and play hostess to all those fine young
men, what woman wouldn't? Those boys had become the best and brightest in
every field of endeavor, a tribute to Bradford's success, and especially
Dr. Thorne. It would be sweet to see the man after all these years; he had
to be in his mid-seventies by now.

	The house in New Bridge had been sold the year after Neil
graduated; it was time to move on. There were some great memories in that
house, and some bad. The joy of all those boys sitting at the table with
her father still lingered in the recesses of her mind. And in that there
was also a great deal of sadness.

	Renny's grandfather would have loved to see them all again, but he
had succumbed to cancer almost a year ago. She still held the image of
Renny sitting beside him in the hospital; he gave such great comfort in
those final days. The boy had become her father's greatest source of
strength in those final dreadful days. That was all past now, but the
memory still lingered.

	There was no way she could avoid these thoughts of her father, his
image hung in the dining room of the apartment. Renny had been kind; Robert
Elkins had never looked finer than in that portrait. Despite the ravages of
age and the cancer, Renny had given the man new life and immortality in
that painting, one of his finest.

	Returning to New York had been Renny's idea and Nora readily
agreed. She had her three boys there and Adam as well. Yes, Adam...Lord
what a fine young man he had become, his touch had influenced so many
lives. Ten years, it was hard to imagine that Renny had been with him that
long, but their lives had been nothing short of astounding.

	By the time Renny turned seventeen and received his high school
equivalency diploma Adam already had his college degree, at least the first
one. By the age of twenty-one Adam had a Master's and wrote his Doctorial
thesis. He was Adam Marshall, PhD. now. Barbara was so proud, and then Adam
had begun changing the world around him.

	Marshall High School had opened two years ago with Neil as one of
the core teachers. The boys had planned this for years; Adam had seen the
project through. The Marshall Plan, as Neil jokingly referred to it, was a
brilliant stroke; there was no school, just an office building for the
Marshall Foundation.

	The school taught in place, whatever place they found
themselves. That first year sixteen students and five teachers took off
across the country and around the world. English lessons in Paris, math in
Tokyo. The boys were drawn from all levels of society; some would never
have had the opportunity if not for Adam's work.

	The Marshall Foundation was Adam's baby, something that reflected
his degree in social anthropology and engineering; he'd written the degree
program himself. He managed to get the great and not so great to support
the idea of his school, the world was their classroom. But through it all
the students were taught on the Bradford model, with kindness and
respect. Poor kids from the inner city rubbed elbows with rich kids from
Long Island; it was social engineering at its best.

	Many wealthy donors sought a place for their children and
grandchildren in the school, but Adam kept enrollment small, sixty-five
this year, a dozen faculty. He managed deals with airlines and hostels
across the world, great restaurants and museums allowed their facilities to
be used for classes, everyone bowed to Adam's call to work together.

	He was tireless in his efforts, and Barbara and Nora did what they
could to help, it gave networking a whole new definition. Renny was so
proud of his man, and at least he got to see him every day, unlike Neil and
Jessie. From a row of studios in the Village, Renny could serve his
artistic needs and those of his fellow artists in residence. He was only a
short cab ride from Neil's condo.

	At twenty-three Renny was still involved with his music inspires
art program. There had been events in nine major cities so far, each tied
in with local musicians thanks to Wolfgang. Renny still felt one of his
finest works hung in the Berlin Conservatory; they really had achieved a
coup in purchasing The Pigeon Man. Now his work was in demand all over the
place, he had funded his school under the watchful eye of Marcel Dubois.

	The loss of his grandfather had a profound effect on Renny, as well
as the rest of the family. Nora had received the benefit of the company
shares but left the operations to others, Renny and Neil had their own
careers. Renny's sadness had translated itself into a series of murals in
tribute to the man, and Robert would have been so proud, the artist
garnered sales of those works in the millions that year, it kept the art
project alive.

	Neil had never been closer to his little brother, especially since
Jessie traveled five times a year. The concerts in distant lands this past
year was almost too much, it meant months away from the man he loved. But
Jessie was out doing what he loved and it made homecomings all that more
special. Now they could both return to Littleton and give thanks to the man
who had made it all possible.

	Jessie's audition and acceptance at Julliard ten years before had
only been the beginning. Two years into Jessie's program of study Martin
Rudnick joined the school. Jessie was glad to see his old friend back,
Martin was glad to leave Chicago and return to his native home town. The
two joined forces once again and Billy DeMarco could only sit back and
smile, he appreciated brilliance in his students.

	The Young Masters program at Julliard was a performance slot every
student vied for, it gave them a chance to perform before a live audience
with one of the best orchestras in the world, The Philharmonic. Martin was
almost guaranteed a slot in the program; he would play a Beethoven piece
with the orchestra.

	But Martin frowned when he saw the entire selection, he thought it
boring, it lacked the fire a temperamental pianist like himself wanted to
play. And so he approached DeMarco with a proposal, he wanted to play a
duet with Jessie, and he had selected just the music they ought to present.

	And so, long before Jessie felt he was ready to sit at the keyboard
in front of a large audience, Martin had DeMarco's approval to perform the
D major Sonata for piano by Anton Rubinstein, and that needed four
hands. Jessie was stunned at the proposal, but he knew Martin had done it
to make sure he was in the program. He had to accept, the music represented
passion itself.

	Wolfgang was a proud uncle as he sat by Renny and the other
Dennison's in the third row that evening. Martin was the great unknown, but
a rising star at the school; he knew how well Jessie played. The program
went through the violin performance of Marsha Denaro, an astounding young
lady, to Wilson Bennett's cello solo, and then it was time for the piano
section.

	The orchestra conductor motioned to the wings of the stage and
Martin took his place at the keyboard, one of two on the platform. Within a
minute Wolfgang knew the boy was the most astounding young talent he had
heard in twenty years, his performance was technically perfect. But there
was something missing, something he had heard only from Jessie's
hands...the passion of love for the music he played.

	Martin finished with a flourish and the audience rose to their feet
in appreciation. Martin took a bow and then returned to the keyboard. The
conductor once again motioned to the wings and Jessie took to the
stage. Martin smiled and gave Jessie a nod, the moment was upon them.

	The performance was nothing short of brilliant, it was as if they
played one instrument. The Russian composers had a way of grasping the
listener, tonight Wolfgang felt the clutch as these two boys reached out
with their music, he almost wept. The audience held its collective breath
at the technical difficulty of the piece, but not a single mistake was
heard, it was astounding.

	And even the orchestra rose to its feet as the final notes brought
the audience's praise in a thunderous ovation. Jessie and Martin took their
bows, and then hugged one another. There was no doubt in Wolfgang's mind
who would win the competition; the boys would share that prize.

	Every hard earned moment of knowledge Jessie gained after that was
colored by that performance, he was forever grateful to Martin for the
chance. The following year Martin won first place in the solo competition,
Jessie came in second. It was far from a disappointment to see his friend
win, he was just happy to be there.

	Julliard students were world renowned, and that was never more
apparent than in the offers each student received to come and play for
various events, most resisted the temptation, they had no time. The world
of a musician at that level was filled with hours of solitary practice;
Jessie had the apartment and the Bosendorfer for his use.

	From beyond the closed doors of the music room, Nora listened to
the piano her mother had so wonderfully chosen produce an amazing
tone. Jessie was in there writing his symphony. The long and laborious
process of composing had swept the boy into a frenzy of activity for
months, DeMarco wanted it performed, and soon.

	Now Jessie understood what he was writing and how to put it all
together on the page. He had it all figured out, but it lacked something
grand. Renny often sat in the corner most evenings, sketch pad in
hand. Jessie was a favorite subject these days, the passion of his music
Renny could understand. So when he heard a frustrated discord emanate from
Jessie's fingers he looked up.

	Jessie sighed. "It's all finished, I just don't feel it."

	"You've been working on that thing forever, maybe you're too close
to it," Renny said.

	Jessie smiled now. "I have to be, Neil inspired it. No, it's just
missing...something."

	"I get that, nice painting, wrong frame."

	"Exactly. I keep thinking about performing it, the orchestra part
is like a pair of hands that gently holds the piano." He led up his hands
and cupped them, looking down. "That's how Neil made me feel, I was his to
hold."

	"That's sweet, the whole thing paints a beautiful picture in my
head," Renny said.

	Jessie nodded. "Yeah...me too. What do you see?"

	Renny sighed and closed his eyes. "I see..." He spread his arms and
made broad slashes with his hands. "I see wide bands of blue and white
stretching across the sky, like the clouds over the Mediterranean Sea, the
dark forests in Germany, the lush green hills of Ireland..." And Renny
stopped, opening his eyes with a smile. "It inspires me to see the beauty
of the world like I've done so many times. The oceans, the skies, the
forests...every part of the planet resonates in that music."

	Renny then laughed. "Sorry, that isn't a very succinct answer, is
it? I just see images when I hear music, its how my brain works."

	"No...that's a wonderful thought. I'm missing the colors, the
images," Jessie said. "I need to put them in there, I want the audience to
hear and see what I'm composing...you've given me a brilliant idea."

	"I have...what do I get out of it?" Renny laughed.

	Jessie gave him an evil grin. "Work, my man...lots of hard work."

	DeMarco was intrigued; combining performance with media seemed like
a good idea.

	"Your little symphony is forty-two minutes long, not enough time to
paint anything live on stage, is it?" He wondered aloud.

	"No sir, it's not...and the smell of the paint would be a real
problem, I wouldn't suggest that indoors. Renny and I want to select images
from the public domain and present them through various media. I would like
to consult with the staff at the Center first. Dr. Von Scholtz knows some
specialists in that field as well."

	"I know you call him Wolfgang, or Wolfey for that matter, don't
change that on my account, you've been friends a long time by now," DeMarco
said. "Yes, he would need to become involved. You have half the program;
will it affect the other performances?"

	"No sir, that is not my intention...I would just ask to go last,"
Jessie said.

	"Fine, you go on after intermission. So how long do you suppose it
will take to put this all together?"

	"We have four weeks, I imagine every bit of that...we've already
begun," Jessie said.

	DeMarco smiled. "Wolfey said you would rock my world even before
you started at the school, he was right. Rehearsals for your music starts
next week, let's see what you come up with."

	"Yes, sir...Thank you."

	"Don't thank me. Every time one of you students does something so
incredibly fine it reflects well upon the school as a whole. Go do
something fine, Jessie. An event like this will make your place in the
music world, I hope you know that. And you may call me Billy, everyone else
does behind my back; it's about time we were up front with one another."

	Jessie grinned. "Then thank you, Billy."

	Wolfgang was instrumental in arranging things in the media
sense. It would take huge screens of various shapes and projectors of great
power, lots of projectors. The symphony photographers got wind of the plans
and volunteered their time and experience, they would make the final
digital prints. The lighting crew at the Center was intrigued; this would
be an unusual challenge, something to change their usual boring jobs.

	The images came from everywhere. Books, internet, magazines,
hundreds grew into thousands almost overnight. Renny and several friends
spent hours choosing the photos, working to assure quality and color. It
would be a media package like no one had seen since the sixties.

	The week before the scheduled rehearsal, Wolfgang brought in his
expert, a German media artist who had extensive computer programs at his
fingertips. The images had all been digitized by that point; all he needed
to do was program the sequences. There were four thousand images to look
at, it took hours. The whole time Renny and Jessie sat with him and talked
about their vision of how the art needed to look and he did it right before
their eyes.

	The final copy of the presentation was stored for playback on
sixteen projectors, it was a massive undertaking. The morning of the
rehearsal the media company moved onto the stage and began to set up
screens. Jessie stood back amazed at the major amount of work this
entailed...and the cost. Wolfgang stood beside him and smiled.

	"This is like a Broadway show in many aspects. I imagine you'll be
a friend to the stagehands union for years after this," He said.

	"I had no idea, this has to be expensive...all these people, the
equipment..."

	"Now shush, that's my concern, we are well within budget," Wolfgang
said.

	"What budget? I didn't know there was one," Jessie said.

	"My dear Jessie, you think this is just another student
performance? There will be more media coverage than you can imagine, it
will be the musical event of the year, I assure you. The Julliard, the
Center...everyone involved will receive praise and attention; this is more
than worth the effort. You have brought focus on the tired old music world,
that's worth millions in subscriptions alone. So let me worry about paying
for it, I just wish you were going to receive something for all your work."

	"This isn't about money Wolfey, it's about the music," Jessie said.

	"And so it is...how grand it will be, don't you think?"

	The screens were stretched over the usual orchestra shell,
amorphous shapes that were intriguing and yet did nothing to block the
shell's acoustic properties. Some of the projectors were hung overhead,
others on the floor under the orchestra risers and still others projected
from the rear. The orchestra would sit in a bubble of light as the media
swirled on the screens around them. They would soon find out if this
distracted the musicians from their work.

	Otto sat back with his computer control panel and ran through the
images. Renny had arrived with Neil and Nora; they all sat in the seats and
watched the show. Otto Morgenstern had only heard the music from a
recording Jessie had made. The consultations had set the timing and flow of
the images, and now Jessie saw for the first time what they had produced.

	Forty-two minutes of music, three thousand eight hundred and
sixteen images would synchronize with the music. Otto focused on his
computer as the images moved, some of them flowing across the stage from
one screen to another. He understood the dynamics of the program; he even
liked the music, now it would all come together.

	The images were stunning even without the music. A broad view of
the world, the best of Earth as Renny had said just the other day. It was
all there in forty-two minutes. The naturalists would approve, Jessie
called it A Symphony for Mankind, an Ode to Planet Earth.

	The orchestra arrived at four, glancing around at the screens as
they took their accustomed seats. Jessie had tested the piano beforehand
and he stood talking to several of the musicians before the conductor
arrived.  Martin came onstage and looked around as well.

	"I figured you'd find a way to upstage me," He laughed. "Awesome."

	"I should have talked you into playing this for me," Jessie said.

	"Nervous? Well don't be, you know every nuance by heart," Martin
said. "For once I get to watch my friend, that's pretty rare isn't it?
We're usually on stage together."

	"You will be in spirit, thanks for all your support," Jessie said.

	"If I was gay I'd kiss you," Martin said. "Aw hell, let them talk."
And with that he gave Jessie a proper smooch on the lips. "Have fun." And
Martin went to find himself a seat.

	Trevor Leman was conducting all of the student performances this
year; he admired Jessie's work tremendously. He too did the look around
when he came on stage and walked up to Jessie.

	"I see the webs, where are the spiders?" He joked.

	"In my head," Jessie said with a smile. "You'll be facing the media
show, hope it isn't too distracting."

	"Not a bit, I have a complicated score to address and fifty-six
musicians who think they know it all, I'll be too busy," Trevor
laughed. "So shall we?"

	Jessie sounded out an A to alert the oboe player who repeated the
note, then the first violin picked up the tone, and the sound spread
throughout the orchestra until they were all in tune.

	"Ladies and Gentlemen of the orchestra," Trevor began, as he always
did. "Today we have a treat...not for you, but for the audience." There
were chuckles amidst the orchestra.

	"The media presentation will surround us, but we must ignore it at
all costs. A note to the percussion section, there is no nudity in the
images, sorry."  That garnished outright laughter and boos from the
percussionists.

	Trevor maintained strict discipline; everyone respected his
abilities and his absolute control. But he was always good humored; it made
his people relax when he joked with them. Jessie knew most of the musicians
had fought to take their seats in this prestigious orchestra, Trevor made
it all worthwhile.

	The lights dimmed a bit for the start and Trevor glanced around at
his people, their faces reflecting the pale wash from their stand
lights. They had rehearsed like this, for normally the orchestra was
strongly lit from above. A soft blue wash lit the screens; they were ready
to synchronize at the touch of Otto's finger.

	"So, we face another un-student like composer on the way up; let's
make him look good today, shall we?" He said.

	With that Trevor tapped his baton on the music stand and the violin
bows went up to their starting position. He nodded at Jessie and the baton
went up...they began.

	The opening strings swept along with the ocean views, the
background a constant repetition of those four notes and three chords where
the music had all begun. And then the piece took on a grander tone, the
section Jessie had finalized a three months ago, one that inspired the
larger piece of work.

	Wolfgang sat in the seats halfway up the center aisle and felt the
music wash over him. No matter that this was a piece fraught with danger
for one so young, it had been his risk to take and he had triumphed. The
visuals would sweep the audience away; it was a magnificent blending of art
and music. He was content; the boy had become everything he expected and
more.

	Renny watched with awe, feeling the emotions of all that hard work
and the music combine to lift his spirits through the roof. It soared just
as he had imagined, he loved Jessie's music...and the man behind it. That
thought made him smile, yes, he'd had a crush on Jessie from the moment
they first met.

	But on Sunday afternoon he would sit out here with Adam by his
side, they would share this joy together. For just as life had given him
Jessie and this wonderful music, Adam had consumed his life with a
passion. He was so lucky, so very lucky to be here.

	The orchestra played the three movements with delight, pausing only
as the piano took over and then plunging back in to emphasize their part of
the music. It was all so incredibly raw and exciting, the best thing most
of them had encountered in years. And then they were done and the final
notes sounded as the screens froze on that most famous of photos...The
Earth, The Big Blue Marble in space.

	Trevor walked over and shook Jessie's hand, on Sunday Jessie would
walk over to him as etiquette dictated. "Wonderful, simply wonderful,"
Trevor said.

	"Thank you," Jessie replied.

	The New York Times spoke of 'hidden treasures' at the Julliard
School, and went on to laud the school for taking such chances. The review
in the Post was Jessie's favorite:

	"Time and again we are given tired and worn out classics to
examine; the performance I observed last evening at the Lincoln Center was
nothing less than a triumph of the human spirit. The presentation of A
Symphony for Mankind, an Ode to Planet Earth, a one of a kind student media
event at the Lincoln Center once again proves that New York is blessed by
the presence of its world renowned music school, The Julliard.

	"Last evening's student musical performance at the Center was awash
in praise for Mr. Jessie Reardon, a third year music student at The
Julliard. His symphony encompassed the entire second act of what was an
evening of delightful music, and stood the audience on its ear. For not
only did the music soar, the accompanying visual images were astoundingly
clear and bright, lending strength and vitality to the musical score.

	"The Philharmonic orchestra, under the direction of Trevor Leman,
performed flawlessly, as did Mr. Reardon on his piano accompaniment; the
music had never been performed before. And it was all supposed to be just a
student musical event, it was anything but. With the addition of stunning
visual images that flowed across dozens of screens behind and above the
musicians the result was incredibly exciting.

	"The images are credited to Mr. Renaldo Dennison, an artist of some
renown who chose the photographs for their poignancy and ability to express
the music. We have just learned that this artist is only sixteen years of
age, a wonderful tribute to youthful ability in the field of art. Requests
to the Center for further information on any further performances of this
music media event have been delayed; they seem to be considering just what
to do with their new hit."

	Renny had been stunned when he opened his program on Sunday
afternoon and saw his name. Jessie had insisted Renny be given the credit,
he'd done the lion's share of the work. And then as the performance began
Renny looked at what he had created with new eyes, and a whole lot of
pride.

	As the performance ended Nora rushed him backstage as the first act
musicians took their bows. He was virtually dragged into the wings as
Jessie walked on stage for his bow and the accolade he so richly
deserved. Nora thrust a bundle of roses in Renny's hands and simply
said. "Go out there and give these to Jessie from all of us."

	Renny was nervous, he wasn't prepared. But that was Jessie out
there, he had to follow through. And so he took the forty or so steps out
across the stage and Jessie turned to smile at him.

	"Thank you, Renny...the credit is yours as well," Jessie said. He
accepted the flowers and took Renny's hand, turning them both back towards
the audience. "Now bow when I do," Jessie said, and they did just that. It
was about this point that the audience realized just who this boy was and
they cheered, causing Renny to blush and the smiling photographers took
their photos.

	It was hard to believe but there they were in the newspaper, Jessie
holding the bunch of flowers and Renny's hand the very moment after their
bow. He had looked up at Jessie that very second, you could almost see the
adoration in his eyes; you could definitely see that radiant smile.

	The Center wanted six more performances, assuring DeMarco that they
would each sell out after all the publicity. Billy was stunned, this had
never happened before, but how could he refuse. The orchestra was just
happy to perform something popular. Jessie thought it was all too much.

	"OK, it was good, great even, but it isn't all that," Jessie
groaned. "Come on Billy, I have other things to learn."

	"When the surf is up, you ride the waves," Billy said.

	"What?" Jessie laughed. "You think I have to do this?"

	"No, you need to do this...there's a great deal of money
involved. Even with moderate ticket prices you'll gross a good deal, maybe
even a hundred thousand. The box office will be close to a million
dollars."

	"Oh My God, that is a lot of money."

	"Well after taxes, say half that...it will be a first for a student
work."

	"Will they tax it if I donate it to charity, or say a non-profit?"

	"No, then the full amount will...you have something in mind?"

	"Yes, and I'll need about sixteen seats for the final performance,
can I get a check then as well?"

	Billy smiled. "For you...anything seems possible."

	This time the Times raved and the Post all but said I told you
so. Billy arranged for Martin to comprise the first act at Jessie's urging,
and the boy blew the audience away with his performances. But everyone was
there to see Jessie and his musical event, they were not disappointed.

	Tim Braden had loaded a dozen of his kids in a van with Mickey and
they appeared that afternoon at the Center, he had read about Jessie in the
Post, he'd never thought he would get to see the performance. But when he
presented his name at the box office they were lead down front to the very
first row of seats.

	The kids from the hostel garnered some strange looks; well...some
of the kids looked strange too. But they settled in their seats and were
surprised when Neil came and sat down with them. He talked with the kids,
many of them not much younger than himself and told them about the
performance. Renny, Adam and Nora arrived as well, and there were greetings
for the woman that had brought some of them all the way up to New
Hampshire.

	Martin did an incredibly fine job in the first act, and then they
saw Jessie walk out on the stage. His performance and the pictures were the
most amazing thing any of them had even seen, but then forty-two minutes
later it ended. Trevor and the orchestra took their bow and then Jessie
returned to the stage for his.

	And after the applause died out Tim stood up and was ready to take
his charges back to the hostel, but Neil took his arm.

	"Jessie will be out in a moment, he'd like to thank you for
coming."

	"OK, we'll wait," Tim said.

	When he did appear Jessie led them all backstage and into a large
open room behind the band shell. There were several well dressed people
standing around talking but they smiled as the kids entered.

	"Tim, this is Wolfgang Von Schultz, the assistant director of the
Philharmonic, and this is Trevor Leman, the conductor you saw this
evening. I wanted you all here to make a very special presentation,
Wolfgang?"

	Wolfgang slid an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to
Jessie.

	Jessie smiled. "Tim, I hold you responsible for bringing Renny into
my life and the lives of all of who know and love him. For that alone you
could never be rewarded enough. But when I was told that these performances
would be paid I knew where I wanted my money to go." And with that he
handed over the check.

	"Thank you, Jessie, thank you all."

	"Well open it," Renny said, causing smiles around the room.

	Tim laughed. "Same old Renny." And then he opened the envelope and
gasped. The check was for one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, the
orchestra and center had added to the pile once they heard where it was
going.

	Feeling totally numb, Tim handed the check to Mickey and threw his
arms around Jessie. He had tears of gratitude in his eyes. "You know what
this means?  New furnishings, a real school...bless all of you," Tim
said. There was a lot of love shared in that room.

	For Jessie his triumph rolled past, his degree assured, and then
there was another graduation to attend, two in fact. Neil and Jessie went
on to graduate school. Red and Alan hadgraduated Bradford the very next
year, disappointed that Neil and Jessie couldn't come.

	Mike graduated that year as well and settled down with Pat like he
always had, business was booming. And then it was Steve, Tyrone and Brent's
turn to receive their passport to the world. Following that Adam made his
valedictory speech and Neil and Jessie were there, with a handsome sixteen
year old Renny by their sides.

	Adam was the last graduate known as a member of the original gay
group, an event that made Tom smile. Those boys had set the stage, thrown
open the closet door and brought unity to the school, they would be
missed. Even Tim had finally made contributions to the cause; it was a
bitter sweet ending to an era.

	The years rolled by and finally Thorne said enough, he wanted Elias
to take charge. The changing of the guard went almost unnoticed, except in
a letter Elias sent Neil. For by then he was aware of the newly minted
Marshall Plan and whole heartedly supported the effort. But then Thorne
fell on one of his famous walk arounds, he was in the hospital for a
week. And that set Elias to thinking.

	He prepared the mailing list in secret at home, knowing that Thorne
still occasionally snooped around the office after hours. The Board had
given Thorne and his wife the house at retirement; he was still a much
needed asset to the community of Friends. So the letters went out telling
each former student about the reunion and asking them to please quietly
prepare a tribute for Dr. Thorne.

	Ten years, a lot of students had come and gone at Bradford in that
amount of time, faces and names never to be forgotten. Elias awoke on the
morning of June third with a smile and looked up into Miguel's adoring
face.

	"It's today isn't it, babe?" Miguel asked.

	"Today it starts, are you coming?" Elias asked.

	"No, dear...these are your boys. Bring some of them home for dinner
if you want."

	"They're not boys any more," Elias said.

	Miguel smiled. "They always will be in your heart."

	Adam, Jessie and Neil flew into Franconia airport and picked up
their rental car, Renny tagged along, unsure what he would be facing. But
he wanted to see Red and Alan; they had been apart for years. God, it
seemed like another life, it had been so long ago when he had met all those
guys, but Renny was a man himself now, age didn't matter.

	Neil drove the fifteen miles to the Thayer Hotel and checked
in. Nora would be along tomorrow. He wondered how the guys had changed, if
at all. They were about to board the elevator when he saw this red-headed
man dash into the lobby with a slender blonde guy in tow.

	"Hold the doors," Neil said. "Red alert."

	They stepped off the elevator and waited for Red to spot
them. Steve saw them first,

	"Neil...Jessie," Steve yelled, and he nearly tripped over Red
getting to them. The hugs and greetings filled the lobby, while Adam stood
back smiling with Renny by his side.

	"I haven't forgotten you, Adam," Steve said, untangling himself
from a Jessie hug only to switch to Adam. "Wow...Renny? God you've grown
like a weed."

	"Hello, Steve." The hugging could have taken up all morning, but
they all wanted to meet the two o'clock deadline at the campus. Now it was
six of them on the elevator going up.

	"So you both still in school at Emerson?" Neil asked.

	"I am at least," Steve said. "Now Red, that's another story."

	"Quiet, Steve."

	"Now, come on, its good news, they ought to know," Steve said. "Red
finished his broadcasting program and Channel 4 in Boston picked him up."

	"WBZ, and it's time for the five o'clock news," Red said in his
announcer's voice. "That's five in the morning guys; I'm low man on the
totem pole."

	"Hell, that's a foot in the door, Red...congratulations," Neil
said.

	"That explains the haircut," Adam said.

	"Yup, don't want no hippies on television," Red laughed. "Alan will
be along, he and Dillon are driving up from DC."

	"They're living together? What about schools?" Jessie asked.

	"Dillon's at Georgetown, guess he'll follow in daddy's footsteps, I
hate politicians but I'd vote for him. Alan is at George Washington, in
performing arts no less."

	"Is that where they teach you how to make gay porn?" Jessie asked,
and they all laughed.

	"God, this is going to be so much fun," Neil said.

	They all went to their rooms and showered. Each dressed in a suit
and tie, the only thing they shared in common was the little rainbow flag
pin on their lapels. They had agreed to meet in the lobby at one, but Neil
and Jessie arrived first. Neil was the first to spot Alan, he had hardly
changed at all, but Dillon had. The boy had been so attractive at Bradford,
now he was a total knockout.

	"Jeez...Dillon?" Neil said. Dillon hugged him while Alan did the
favors for Jessie, and then they switched.

	"Lord, you look great," Jessie said. "And Dillon, wow."

	"Yeah, that's my boy," Alan replied.

	The others arrived as Alan checked in, each secretly amazed at how
well Dillon had grown in height and beauty. So of course Renny had to say
what they were all thinking.

	"Dillon, you modeling now or something?" Renny said.

	"No," Dillon laughed, "You think I should?"

	"Oh baby, I'd pay to see you in a bathing suit."

	"We have to clean up and get dressed," Alan said, "See you in half
an hour?"

	"Meet you in the bar," Neil said.

	"Yeah, we can do that now, can't we?" Renny said. "No champagne for
Dillon as I recall."

	"Thanks for reminding me," Dillon said, swatting Renny's ass.

	After a few beers they were all ready to go, and they took both
cars. The drive up to the gates gave them a glimpse of Littleton, a town
much changed, but still a quiet little place. Neil drove through the gates
with a smile, this at least was the same...and yet not.

	They immediately saw the new building and Adam smiled. No one knew,
and he wasn't about to tell them. They pulled up in front of Thorne's
residence, and saw the gardens just as they remembered, a display of color
and beauty, much like the man himself.

	The front door opened and Elias stepped out, looking older and
wiser if that was humanly possible. They got out of their cars and there
were hugs before the door once again opened and Thorne and his wife stepped
out. Neil was shocked at the changes age had wrought, but the eyes still
held that twinkle, tinged with a bit of mischief.

	"Boys...boys, it's so good to see you once again," Thorne said,
still leaning on his cane for support.

	"Hello, Dr. Thorne," Neil said, and they all gave the man his due.

	"Come in, come in," Thorne said.

	They pulled chairs from the dining room table to seat everyone, and
Thorne sat in his favorite chair.

	"So let me see. Neil and Jessie, Wayne and Steve, Alan and Dillon,
and of course Adam, but who is this young man?"

	"I'm Renaldo," Dr. Thorne, "Neil's brother."

	"Oh yes, the artist, I've read all about you...you have a fine
career. We missed seeing you here."

	"I was too young to attend, sir, and then we moved to New York,"
Renny said, hoping to avoid any lengthy explanations.

	"Our loss, I'm sure. So, Elias says each of you is making great
progress in life, how wonderful," Thorne said.

	"The campus looks wonderful as well," Neil said.

	"We have a fine bunch of boys to do the gardening; I'll miss them
this summer. But then you haven't seen the new buildings, Elias must show
them to you," Thorne said.

	"We saw one on the way in," Neil said, wondering if he was going to
be the only one to speak.

	"Yes...yes, Adams Hall, our new dorm. Nearly three hundred boys
here now, quite a crowd. They'd be pleased to meet you...no, but they're
off for the summer, how sad."

	Thorne looked frail...tired. Neil imagined the others were in shock
at his condition. "I'm sure you had an excellent group of students this
past semester," Neil said.

	"Yes, fine boys...but not like I remember exactly every detail any
more, Elias runs the school. You boys were the best, the brightest I
believe we've ever seen, and look how you've grown."

	"Thank you, sir...we've brought you a gift, Dr. Thorne...it's very
old," Neil said.

	"Is it older than me?" Thorne asked with a chuckle.

	"I believe it qualifies....Jessie?"

	Jessie handed over the box in which the book resided and Neil
placed it in Thorne's hands. "I don't have my reading glasses; can you tell
me what it is?"

	Neil opened the box and brought out the old leather bound book, it
showed its age through the clear protective wrapping.

	"Dr. Thorne, for the lessons you taught us, for the times you
shared your wisdom and that of the Society of Friends, we wanted you to
have this book. This is the autobiography of George Fox, as written by
Mr. Rufus Jones in England and published in nineteen and eight, it's a
first edition and very rare."

	Elias had perked up at the mention of the book. "Goodness," He
said.

	"I thought the dedication most appropriate," Neil said, and he
recited from memory.

	"To the sweet and shining memory of the little lad whose beautiful
life was a visible revelation to me of truth, which this autobiography
teaches, that the divine and the human are not far sundered."

	Thorne sat stunned for a moment. "I have heard that before, an age
of time past in my youth." He sighed. "I am grateful that you give me
something that shares such values, I shall read it in due time. You bring
me such joy, and yet I have nothing to give in return."

	"Dr. Thorne you have given us more then you will ever know," Jessie
said.

	"You inspired us, sir," Dillon said.

	"There are hundreds of successful former students, Dr. Thorne. Your
guidance made that all possible, none of us here will ever forget your
kindness," Neil said.

	Thorne nodded, his eyes closing as a smile crept to his lips. "I
remember you spoke well at your graduation, Adam did as well. You both said
the same things as I recall...that what you will always remember is our
kindness...yes, those were the words....kindness."

	He opened his eyes and they looked tired now. "I'm afraid my
medicine is making me dreary company, I should rest a while."

	Elias helped Thorne to his feet and he touched each man on the way
out. "I look forward to seeing all of you tomorrow at the dinner...maybe we
should serve pizza," Thorne laughed at his own joke and followed Elias out
of the room.

	They each sat in silence after the man left, a quiet that they had
learned here just like every other lesson. Elias returned and asked them to
step outside. They stood looking out across the campus, the walkways and
the mown grass all seemed in order.

	"He is fragile, I'm afraid, even his wife notices the change these
past six months," Elias said.

	"Does he have a medical condition?" Alan asked.

	"Besides age...no, not really. His circulation fails like all
elderly men, he walks less and less. He sits in a chair and watches the
students tend his garden. His life is fading, just as your's is beginning,
it is the way of things."

	"Will he be all right, is our coming here too much of a strain on
him?" Neil asked.

	"No, he wouldn't have it any other way...he needs to see you and
the others when they arrive tomorrow," Elias said.

	"We were hoping for a photograph with him, you included," Alan
said.

	"That would make a sweet memory, he'd like that. I'm sorry, his day
is worn out, he needs the rest. What can I do for you boys...men, sorry?"

	Neil smiled. "Nothing changes does it? We'll always be your boys as
well. So headmaster, show us the campus you command."

	"That I can do."

	The photograph is one of the last memories Neil had of
Dr. Thorne. The man stood tall in their midst, a smile on his face, the
breeze ruffling his hair. Alan yelled cheese right before the shutter
tripped, eighty-seven men smiled...and they became immortal.

	Renny was in that picture, Thorne insisted. Alan took several shots
of the man alone, and Renny worked with one of them, producing a portrait
in oils. Five months after the reunion, Elias received the painting, and he
hung it in the office for all to see...for by then his friend Robert was
gone.

	He had left this world in his sleep, age finally taking its
toll. For a man who valued silence as much as he did laughter, it was
fitting that at least one of them had taken him. Elias would miss their
quiet conversation, and the moments of silence that fell between them. It
was then they could hear the calls of the boys out on the playing fields,
the boyish intensity, the very breath of life.

	Now he had that portrait, and they could still embrace the silence
together while listening to the boys yelling in play. It made Elias smile,
for Robert had breathed life into the school with tolerance and
kindness. And somewhere...somewhere on this campus there would be another
two boys who would meet, fall in love and go on with life as had so many
before them.

	Those amazing boys of Bradford Academy were all grown and out
conquering the world, one kind deed at a time. And there in tiny New
Bridge, Pat read his copy of the New York Times and occasionally he ran
across one of their names. Mike used to enjoy having Pat read him the
articles about Jessie's concert performances, or the Marshall Foundation's
work. It was sometimes hard to remember just how close they had all been.

	"They are just fine guys, don't you think?" Mike asked.

	"Like you aren't?"

	"No, Pat...I don't mean it like that. I mean they all turned out so
well, so successful."

	"I'm successful," Pat said.

	"Meaning?"

	"I have you, and I wouldn't trade you for all the money in their
bank accounts, not one dime."

	"I just miss seeing them, knowing what's going on in their lives."

	Pat smiled. "Then come spring we'll go down to the city and look
them up."

	"I'd like that...I think it's going to snow again tonight," Mike
said.

	"You and that nose of yours, how do you know?"

	"I grew up here; I just know...we better bring in some more
firewood."

	"Mike, the power isn't going off for a little snow."

	"It might, and besides I want a roaring fire tonight."

	"Roaring, huh?"

	"Yup."

	"And why's that?"

	"I want us to make passionate love on the rug, just like we used to
do when we first fell in love...OK?

	"Yup."

	Mike laughed. "Is that all you have to say?"

	"OK, how's about I love you...and where are my boots?"


			       *  *  *  *  *
				    End


AUTHORS NOTE:

  	If you wish to make a stand against homophobia and hate, join with
me, and thousands of gay and straight students across the country this
Friday, April 17th, 2009, in recognizing a National Day of Silence.
www.dayofsilence.org for more information on this most important event,
Thank you. CJ