Date: Mon, 20 Jan 2003 17:12:12 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 39 of "Ambush"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you
are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an
area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this
story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe
sex.

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

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 39
Beginnings

After the dinner that followed the auction of Jim Belton's farm,
a dinner that featured the disclosure that an agent had fronted
for Miles Forbisher in buying the farm and that, if anything, the
transaction bound the Miles and Jim to each other, the couple had
excused themselves.  Apologizing profusely for leaving so early,
they explained that they still had a lot to discuss.  "Between the
sheets?" Ron had asked.

Miles had laughed loudly while Jim blushed.  "I have to show my
hero how much I appreciate all he's done to save me," Jim had
explained, his eyes filled with love.

"Yeah, lawyers usually want their pay soon after they do their
stuff," Evan had chimed in, grinning, causing Miles to give him a
one-finger salute.

"Well, our deal isn't legal until it's consummated," Miles had
stated oh-so- seriously.  Then he had chuckled as he put an arm
around Jim's waist, giving him a peck on the lips.

"By morning, it'll be so legal that the Supreme Court couldn't
set it aside," Jim had added, holding Miles in a look of
adoration.  Ron and Evan didn't miss that look, wishing that, if
it didn't mark their eyes when they spoke of each other, it would
soon do so.

After Miles and Jim's departure, Evan had helped Ron clear the
table and put the dishes in the dishwasher.  Then Ron had turned
on the stereo to some soft music and pulled Evan over to the
couch.  After he had plopped down, he had pulled Evan across his
lap, kissing him warmly while caressing his neck, shoulders,
arms, legs.  Evan had joined in, caressing Ron's face and ears,
kneading his muscular shoulders, back and arms.  Eventually, they
had had to slow the pace of their necking, for it wasn't going to
be easy to hold to their resolve not to have sex until they knew
that they loved each other fully.  They had reluctantly parted,
with Ron sending Evan on his way with a passionate kiss.

				***

Later at home, Evan was lying in bed, allowing his thoughts to
wander aimlessly - everywhere but toward Ron Hamilton, that is.
That way was hot, but it led only to more of the frustration
he'd tasted earlier that evening when he'd parted from Ron with
a painful erection - delightful but frustrating nevertheless.
He tried to move into a happy mindset, imagining how Jim's and
Miles's lives would change now that Miles was a full partner in
every way with Jim in the farm.  Of course, he couldn't think
of Miles and Jim for long without his thoughts shifting to Ron.
'Change your direction, Idiot,' he told himself.  When he thought
of Troy, Susan, and Cody, his mind was filled with warm feelings
for them and sweet images of their threesome, which sent his mind
sliding toward Ron. 'Change your direction, Idiot,' he told himself
again.

'NO!  Wait a minute! . . . Every thought leads to Ron!' his
internal voice observed.  'Hey!  Maybe I'm beginning to think of
Ron all the time the way Miles and Jim think of each other all
the time,' he thought.  It surely felt good just now when he
thought of Ron.  It really wasn't sexual although something of
that feeling lay in the background.  Evan was just seeing Ron,
feeling his presence.  Maybe he just needed to celebrate Ron
and the two of them together.  He'd have to do that since they
had postponed sex.  Since they had started Ron's "no-sex"
program, some kind of shift had occurred in his perspective
on the two of them.  Evan was more sensitive to Ron's
physicality, but not just sexually.  It was the same feeling
he had when Troy or even Jeremy was in the house, especially
when they were in the same room.  How about that?

Evan lay in the dark, smiling, seeing Ron preparing dinner in the
kitchen of his apartment for Miles, Jim, and him.  Even given
Jim's depression about the auction, it had felt good to be there
with Ron in that setting.  Being caught studying the way he had
used his hands to grip and slice tomatoes for the salad, the
muscles flexing in his forearms as he had shredded lettuce for
the salad and in his upper arms as he sliced potatoes for the
casserole, the way he had almost moved his feet in a little dance
when he was dicing onions, the way Evan had stepped back behind
Ron to watch that killer ass wagging away.  The way Ron had
turned, catching Evan in his glance, knowing what Evan was doing.
Evan couldn't imagine what Ron was seeing when he glanced up at
him.  They both had smiled at each other then, sharing the
excitement each felt for the other, sharing the warmth.

Evan's reverie was shattered by the muffled sounds of a key being
inserted in the lock of the front door.  He heard it open,
followed by the sound of a backpack thudding on the carpet in the
living room and the nylon in a workout bag whispering as it hit
the carpet.  He heard the front door close and the lock flip.
Seconds later a light knock on his bedroom door was followed by
its opening not so silently.  "What ne'er-do-well is invading the
inner sanctum?" Evan intoned in a deep voice.

"A horny Viking come to steal virtue and virginity," Troy
mimicked in a deep voice.  Then Troy snickered, followed by
"Whoops.  I'm in the wrong place. There's no virginity at this
address!"  He giggled at his own joke.  Then he entered the room,
closing the door.

"Yeah, right.  Thanks to you, Horndog!" Evan exclaimed in mock
injury.  His eyes widened as he heard Troy throwing off his
jacket and sweatshirt, unbuckling his belt, followed by the angry
rasp of the zipper in Troy's chinos.  "Hey, what's going on?"

Troy didn't answer immediately.  When he'd stripped out of his
boxer briefs, his beautiful cock was filling, rising, and bobbing
about as Troy strode to the bed, raised the covers on his side of
the bed, and crawled in with Evan, immediately stripping him of
his boxer shorts.  "It's my turn," Troy murmured in Evan's ear,
rolling on top of him, plastering him with a hot, wet, sloppy
kiss, wrapping his muscled legs around Evan's lower extremities
and squeezing, pushing his arms under Evan's back, trapping his
arms against his side.  Ordinarily, Evan didn't like to feel
confined, but he relished this entrapment, for it symbolized
Troy's wanting to possess him.  Troy's body felt so warm, soft
and hard at the same time, and heavy.  Even though he'd showered
after basketball practice, Troy's scent was lightly human and
spicy, manly.  Evan loved every second of it.

Troy moved his arms under his captive's shoulders, pillowing his
head on his hands, lightly moving Evan's head this way and that
to be nuzzled, licked, kissed.  Troy would break the kiss, pull
his head back to study Evan, then run his tongue across Evan's
ear, down his cheek, and across his lips before pushing his
tongue inside.

"When he broke a kiss, Evan gasped for air, looking intently at
Troy.  "You're turn?"

"Yeah, my lover brother told me about the hot fuck you two had."
He paused, nuzzling his nose against Evan's cheek, licking his
jaw and neck.  "I couldn't help it - I felt a little jealous -
not for what you two had but for what I didn't have."

Evan's head reared back.  "What are you talking about?  You were
bedding one of the most exciting, desirable, beautiful women in
the world."

"I agree.  Our sex so often has resulted from some event or other.
I want us to be proactive, which I why I'm claiming your ass now
for me."

Evan gulped.  "Will I be standing when it's over?"

"Hell no!" he retorted, kissing Evan with feeling.  "I want you
to be my dad, Evan.  You know what my real dad's like.  I don't
know if he'll ever measure up to his son's worth."  Evan's eyes
shone when he heard Troy actually declare his acceptance of his
own self-worth.  "But you're the man I want as my dad. Please,
Evan?"

Evan gulped a few times, then responded haltingly.  "Nothing . .
. would give me . . . greater honor," Evan gulped, "I'm honored
and blessed - by all my sons. Only trouble is I never had the joy
of getting off in creating such a hunky son!" Evan exclaimed.

"We can take care of that deficiency tonight," Troy stated.  "I'm
going to make love to you, Dad.  I'd be nothing but a knucklehead
jock if it weren't for you. You introduced me to my intellect."
Troy kissed Evan's lips sweetly.  "If it weren't for you, I
wouldn't have connected with Susan."  Troy licked Evan's throat,
especially the vulnerable hollow, which sent little tremors
through Evan. "If it weren't for you, I'd never have moved out of
my homophobia."  Troy scooted down and licked, nipped, and sucked
Evan's nipples, making them swell to the size of pencil erasers.
"If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have accepted my
bisexuality."  Pushing the covers back, Troy attacked Evan's
stomach and navel.  "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have
connected with my brother Cody."  Now Troy began licking the
precum off Evan's cock, licking his balls and pulling on his
scrotum with his teeth.  "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't
have joined with my other brothers, Jeremy and Kenny."  Troy
pushed Evan's legs back, nibbling up his inner cheeks.  "If it
hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have a home now."  Troy moved to
Evan's winking pucker, tonguing it, kissing it, pushing his tongue
just inside.  " If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be helping
others now to find their better selves."  Troy moved back to lick
precum slipping down Evan's hard cock, standing up in the air.
"We don't need paper or a decree, Evan.  You're my father now in
every way.  It's your love for me that cements it."  Troy slid
Evan's cock down his throat, bobbing and sucking on it for a
brief time, causing a loud groan from Evan.    Troy pulled off.
"Now I need to claim you as my dad, to repay you."

Troy moved up on his knees, reaching into the nightstand for the
tube of lube he knew he'd find there.  "Let me," Evan insisted,
sitting up, taking the tube, unscrewing the top, and laying down
a line of lube down his joined index and fuck fingers.  Dropping
the tube, he gently caressed Troy's lightly haired ball sack
while gently smoothing the lube up and down the top of Troy's
cock several times.  As one hand played with Troy's balls, he let
his fuck finger just slightly graze Troy's perineum as he moved
the fingers of his other hand under Troy's cock to coat the
underside with lube.  Troy moaned.  He moved his hands to gently
clasp Evan's head as he leaned down to deliver a kiss, swiping his
tongue across Evan's lips.  As he closed his lips over Evan's,
bestowing upon him the softest kiss, gently sliding his tongue
over Evan's lips but not really penetrating into Evan's mouth.
Evan continued to gently stroke on the lube.  Then he took that
hand and coated Troy's perineum and lightly coated Troy's haired
hole with the left over lube, lightly pushing his fuck finger in
until it met the muscle ring.

"Bet you didn't know you've become a hero of mine," Evan
whispered.

Troy's head shot back in disbelief.  "You can say that after the
times I've hurt you?" Troy whispered back.

"Funny, my Hero, I only remember the times you've loved me with
your mind, spirit, heart - oh yeah - and fabulous body," Evan
said softly as he tweaked Troy's nipples, bringing them to hard
points, leading Troy to bite Evan's ear lobe.    Troy pulled
back, studying Evan's face.  Then he kissed him hard.

Troy ran the tip of his nose gently over Evan's face.  " Oh Dad .
. . Dad . . . Dad," he murmured as Evan continued his manual
ministrations to Troy's cock and balls and hole, pushing his
finger just past the muscle ring, making Troy gasp with pleasure.
"It's funny," Troy whispered.  "Sometimes a person who feels he's
deeply in love wants to crawl inside the other's skin."  He began
gently nibbling on an ear lobe, slightly pulling on it.  "But I
want you to crawl inside my skin."  He moved the fuck finger in
his right hand down to Evan's hole, finding it wet.  He slid that
finger inside of Evan's hole no more deeply than he was sliding
his tongue into Evan's mouth, teasing him, eliciting a desperate
whimper from Evan.  "I can't explain it," he whispered as he
lightly licked Evan's lips with little swipes.  "Don't know what
it means.  But I want you inside me, want you to be a part of me,
want to feel powerful but loved with you inside me."

"The maybe I should cum in you," Evan offered softly.

"Not this time, Dad.  I need to claim you.  Next time it's your
turn."

As he said this, he grabbed Evan's legs, dumping him back from
his sitting posture so that he was on his back with his lower
legs held in Troy's arms.  He moved his cock head up to Evan's
hole, gently pushing in.  He was amazed at how quickly his lubed
cock slipped into Evan's chute.  He gasped at the silky caress of
Evan's walls against his steely cock, at the incredible warmth,
registered especially by the flared cap at the end of his penis.
He made an overt effort to connect the warmth of his cock with
the warmth of Evan's body that his skin was experiencing.  "Oh .
. . damn!" Troy softly exclaimed.  "This is so good, Dad . . . so
good."  Evan clinched his inner muscles, compressing them against
Troy's cock, moving his ass in a small circle, causing Troy to
gasp.

"I want you to know how much I love you, Son."  Something like a
strangled sob escaped from Troy's throat.  Evan's arms, resting
on top of Troy's arms, his hands, moving in gentle circles on
Troy's shoulder blades, detected tremors in Troy's upper body.
Troy had been slowly pumping his hard cock into and out of Evan,
which he continued, but another sob escaped Troy.  It was
followed rapidly by another rapid sob.

"Son . . . Troy," Evan spoke softly, "what's wrong?"

Troy continued pumping, gently sobbing.  Evan looked intently
into his eyes to see if he could discover what Troy was not
telling him.  "Dad, I love you . . . not just like a dad." He
paused to sniff lightly.  "I love you the same way I love Susan
and Cody too," he confessed as he continued to
slowly pump in and out of Evan's ass.  "I never knew how much I
needed all of you . . . wanted all of you.  I feel so good about
everything and everyone.  I just want to share it with all of
you."

Evan smiled, realizing what a champion his new son was.  "Let me
show you how I feel about you, Lover and Son," Evan whispered as
he clasped Troy's cock tightly with his inner muscles, rotating
his hips as Troy plunged in and out.  They both began trembling,
for waves of pleasure washed over them.  Both were pumping hard
now, causing squishing noises as they used their bodies to create
pleasure for the other.  Troy's balls had been banging against
Evan's ass, tickling the skin as they dragged up and down, but
now they were drawing up, preparing for an orgasm.  Both were
breathing hard.  Though it was a reach, Evan found Troy's lubed
hole, pushing his thumb inside.  All of a sudden, Evan froze,
paralyzed by the beginning of a monster orgasm.  He threw his
head back, calling out Troy's name as his eyes rolled back in his
head.

Troy began banging Evan fast and hard, determined that his orgasm
fit into his dad's.  Suddenly a loud "Argggggggggggggggh!" shot
from his throat as he too froze, catapulted by a huge orgasm.
They held onto each other, trembling, wriggling, trying to catch
their breath, feeling their cum stream between or into the other.
Slowly, they relaxed, basking in the afterglow of their orgasms,
of their bodies locked together.  Evan began running his
fingertips over Troy's back and down across his ass, barely
touching Troy's skin, making Troy moan. Eventually, Troy's
breathing deepened as he drifted into sleep.  Evan pulled the covers
over them, resting his hands lightly on Troy's ass with his
fingers pushed ever so slightly into the cleft as he too drifted
to sleep, a smile on his face.

				***

Jonah Stedman was sitting on the low wall of a raised flowerbed
outside the entrance from the north parking lot into the school.
Troy paced on the sidewalk. As soon as Jonah had related the
details of the ride to school that Burt Graham had given him,
Troy had called Burt on his cell phone, arranging for him to
meet with Kate Williams, the Templeton Senior High School
principal, that very afternoon.  He asked if Burt's buddies
would be with him.  Burt said he'd try to round up as many as
possible.  Troy wondered if he were pushing events too fast.
Still, the sooner the guys got back in school, the sooner
they'd make up what they had missed.  During the lunch break,
he'd alerted Kate that Burt and some of his buddies might be
paying her a visit, sharing their dropout status with her.
She suggested that Jonah and he accompany Burt.  Jonah caught
Troy's eye. Troy walked over, reaching down and gently massaging
the muscles in Jonah's slim neck.  Jonah looked up at Troy, his
eyes big with wonder that this super jock was touching him as
though he liked him.

"You did a good job, Jonah.  If it weren't for you, these guys
might not have this chance to get their lives back on track."

"I didn't do anything," Jonah said softly, looking into Troy's
eyes.

Troy saw adoration in Jonah's eyes.  He wondered if anyone other
than Robert and Jonah's mother had shown him acceptance and
affection like this.  They both looked up as two cars entered the
school parking lot.  Burt Graham was driving his car with Austin
Wilson riding shotgun.  Chad Murphy was driving a RAV4 with Rex
Tolliver in the passenger seat.  Jonah stood as the guys alighted
from their cars, locking the doors and making their way toward
Troy and Jonah.  Troy had to check a frown when he noticed Jonah
edging closer to him as the guys approached.

"Hey, guys," Troy greeted them warmly, holding out his hand to
Burt.  They shook hands.  Then Troy greeted the others.  Jonah
held back; after all, these were bigger, older guys, and he
really had gotten to know only Burt.  He still couldn't forget
the threat they had posed to him at the mall.  It was also a
natural defensive mannerism because they were jocks and so much
larger than he.  Burt walked over to Jonah, throwing an arm
across his shoulders and pulling him up against his body in a
hug.  "Thanks, Buddy, for helping make this happen.  I owe you."

Jonah's smile as he looked up at Burt was so big it could have
cracked his small face.  He was basking in Burt's praise and
acceptance.  It was really amazing. He'd been invisible on
the high school campus just a couple of months ago, and now
people were really including him with them.  "Where's Denton,"
Troy asked.

"Couldn't reach him," Burt replied.  "His mom didn't know where
he was."

"Well, let's go talk to Kate Williams, our principal."  Troy
allowed Jonah to lead them into the north hall toward the office.
Troy was wondering if he should warn the guys about Kate's being
no one to mess with.  He decided to let the scene play itself
out.  They would have to handle people like Kate throughout their
lives.

They arrived in the office on the dot.  The secretary showed them
right into Kate's office.  She arose, coming around the desk,
smiling at them.  Troy introduced each one, followed by a
handshake from Kate.  "Gentlemen, be seated," she said, pausing
to lay an arm over Jonah's shoulder and to inquire quietly how he
was.  Then she seated herself behind her desk.  She looked
straight at Burt.  "What's up, guys?"

Actually, Troy had filled Kate in on the short history of the
boys, how they'd met, what had transpired, and what they'd
learned.  She wanted to boys to start speaking for themselves,
for that would be required as they reintegrated in a school.

"All of us - and another buddy of ours too, Denton Cooper -
dropped out of Canton Senior High School about six weeks ago.  We
realize now that it was a mistake."  Burt grinned.  "Jonah and
Troy here worked it out so that we could come talk to you.  We'd
like to get back into school.  This school if possible."

"Why this school and not Canton?"

Burt looked at his buddies, using a nod to signal to Austin that
he was to answer the question.  "It would be easier with a new
start in a new school.  And Jonah and Troy have offered to help
us get back into the swing of things.  Jonah's even offered to
help tutor us or find others to help us.  We think we could make
it work this time," Austin explained.

"What caused you to drop out, Burt?" Kay asked gently.

Burt gulped.  "I don't know . . . lots of stuff, I guess.  My dad
left us.  There's just my mom, my brother and sister and me."  He
put a paw on the back of Jonah's neck, squeezing gently.  "Jonah
and I know what that's like."  Burt's eyes swung back to Kate's
somber but sincere gaze.  "I guess a male role model for a son is
more important than we might have thought.  It's hard for me to
believe I have much of a future.  Life is hard.  My mom works two
jobs.  I have a job too to keep my car and help out at home."  He
was silent, swallowing loudly.

"What about you, Chad?" Kate asked.

"Well, when Rex decided to drop out, I just followed him.  We've
been buddies forever.  I just didn't want to be in school if Rex
wasn't there.  I haven't really enjoyed school, so I knew it
would be hard if Rex was gone."

"And you, Rex?" Kate queried.

"Same here," Rex answered.   "I don't really know what I want to
do with my life.  I've thought hard about it, but I can't figure
out anything I want to spend the rest of my life doing."

"Austin?" Kate asked.

"I'm kind of aimless I guess.  I don't seem to have a lot of
ambition.  It made school a drag.  The only good thing about it
was being with my buds."

"Burt, in the best of all possible worlds, what would you like to
do with your life?" Kate asked.

Burt was silent for a while.  "Sounds kind of stupid."

"Try me."

"I'd like to own a car/van customizing shop.  When I look at a
car, most of the time I'm trying to figure out how I'd soup up
the engine, create an awesome interior, make the exterior look
rad."

Kate shook her head a bit in understanding.  "What would be
required for you to be successful in that venture?"

"I'd have to really know the technology, keep up with design
features, build a good reputation."

"What about knowing marketing, management, personnel?"

Burt's eyes enlarged only slightly.  "Well . . . that too."

She turned to Austin.  "How about you, Austin?"

"Someplace where my suave, debonair manner and killer looks would
stand out," he stated slowly, impishly.  The other guys snickered;
Kate smiled.  Jonah's jaw had dropped slightly as he studied Austin.

"And where might that place be?" Kate pushed.

Austin was silent, clearly pondering Kate's question.  "Some
corporation, I guess.  Sales, maybe."

"And what would be required for that to happen?"

"A degree in marketing or management, maybe both for a killer
resume."

Kate turned to Chad without asking the question.

"Something with Rex."

She looked at Rex.  "Yeah, I want to work with Chad.  But I
really haven't thought about what."

"What kind of events have you shared that you both have enjoyed
to the nth degree?"

Rex and Chad communed through their eyes.  "Well, for me," Chad
started, "it'd be hiking and camping with Rex.  I feel so free
but so complete when I'm with Rex outdoors like that."

"I'd have to say the same," Rex added, continuing to look into
Chad's eyes.

"Are you two twins separated at birth?" Kate asked teasingly.
Again the guys chuckled.

"We could have been," Rex answered.

"What would be required for you two to make a living in such a
setting?

Again, Chad and Rex communed wordlessly.  "Working for a park
system," Chad answered.

"I'd like doing that as a fire control officer," Rex added.

"And what would be required for that to work?" Kate again asked.

"Training as a firefighter." Rex answered.

"Maybe a forestry degree," Chad answered.

"Or some kind of environmental or conservation degree," Austin
chimed in.

Kate pondered them silently, studying each one.  Finally she
broke the silence. "Well, gentlemen, here's what's possible.  I
will call Jefferson Alternative High School this afternoon and
make an appointment for you to meet tomorrow morning at 9:00 with
Jeff Rumson, the principal there.  He'll see to it that you start
back to school there.  Plan to remain throughout the day, for
he'll put you right into the classes you need."

"Why not this school?" Burt asked rather plaintively.

"If you couldn't stomach Canton, you ultimately won't stomach
Templeton even with Troy and the gang here.  The same factors
that caused you to leave Canton will be here too.  You need a
different kind of start, some special services and flexibility in
integrating back into high school, and Jefferson is just the
place to help you identify a track for yourselves and to move you
into it.  They focus on what you need now more than Templeton or
Canton are able to do."

She observed the guys swapping looks.  "You won't miss these
guys.  You all connected enough to make this happen, so you can
connect for help with studies, socializing, all of that."  She
smiled.  "Let me tell you these guys don't lack for things to do.
And if I see one of them, I see half the circle of friends with
them . . . .  If you do well the rest of the year and you decide
you still want to attend Templeton your senior year, I'll approve
your transfers.  However," here she raised he eyebrows, fixing
each of them with a stare, "I'll be watching you, expecting you
to demonstrate that I haven't made a mistake."  She slowly
smiled, with Burt returning a monster grin.

"Are you tough?" he asked?

She rose to show the boys out, her eyes twinkling.  "I've brought
lumberjacks to their knees."  The boys burst into laughter.

				***

Later that same day, Greg Dunwoodie was sitting alone in a pocket
park down from Osama's Coffee Shop, where he'd nursed a cup of
coffee for over an hour, reviewing what he considered the sad state
of his life.  His former lover, Ross Brownlee, who had been an art
major at the local college, had been forced to return home upon the
death of his father to manage the family hardware business and care
for his mother.  Ross had told Greg that his dad had always run the
show, rarely allowing his wife or son any knowledge of the
business.  He'd breathed a sigh of relief when Ross went off to
college, for that meant that no one in the community would tip to
the fact that Ross was gay.  When Mr. Brownlee died, Mrs.
Brownlee, who had no managerial experience at all, was fairly
helpless, another of those women who had defined herself in the
home but had no experience in the workplace.  There was no help
for it - Ross, the only child, had to return home to run the
family hardware, his mother's means of support.  His mother, used
to a man looking after her, had taken it as a given that Ross
would come running home to look out after her.

Mr. Brownlee's death had effectively ended Ross's and Greg's
relationship, for Ross soon hooked up with his high school lover,
who still lived in the town, running his parents' large farm.
Ross had been a wonderful lover, tall, burly, butch, strong - a
hairy beast but gentle and romantic, Greg thought, as a small
smile moved into his lips.  Ross loved towering over Greg,
clasping him tightly against his hard, hairy body, picking him up
and cradling in his arms as he walked Greg to their bed, pushing
Greg to tell him how safe he felt in Ross's arms, how loved he
felt in Ross's presence.

In Ross's absence, Greg had turned inward, more or less deserting
his friends, just going through the motions in his life.  He did
just enough in his classes to remain shy of trouble.  He
sporadically attended basketball games and arts events.  Even his
friends, especially Beth Walker and Paul Hartford, had given up
on him after heroic attempts to get him to go out with them, to
hook him up with someone.  They'd make arrangements to meet Greg
to go to a movie or a party. Then Greg would stand them up.
They'd set him up with someone, and then Greg wouldn't show up.
He would sometimes discover his favorite teacher, Evan Halsey,
studying him when the class was at work at their desks on some
writing assignment, but, other than encouraging remarks written
on his essays, even Mr. Halsey no longer tried pushing Greg to
get out of himself.  Greg wanted something to change, but he also
lacked the will to do anything himself.  He couldn't explain it.
It was as though he were frozen in time.

At one point, he'd thought about going to visit Ross, but he knew
it would only leave him in a deeper funk, seeing Ross with his
current boyfriend.  Working on a farm, the guy was probably a
hunk of the first order, which would mean that Greg's slimmer
build would make him come off a poor second to Ross's new
boyfriend, named Hart, Greg seemed to remember Ross's explaining.
Greg's presence might cause trouble in their relationship, and it
could leave Ross feeling guilty, perhaps, at seeing Greg so lost.
He wouldn't do that to Ross for anything. He still loved him.
Besides, it wasn't Ross's fault his dad had died of a coronary.
It had to have been tough for Ross to give up his dream of being
an artist.  He'd loved his major.  Sometimes Greg would have to
nearly kidnap Ross to get him out of the studio for some time
together.  The promise of serving as a nude model for a sketch in
Ross's small apartment was sufficient to lure him from the studio
for the hot sex that always followed.  They were quite
imaginative in the scenarios that Ross sketched.  That was
another reason for not visiting Ross - if he'd buried his
aspirations, then Greg didn't want to reawaken dreams Ross didn't
think he could ever fulfill.  It would be a cruelty, not a
kindness, done out of selfishness.

Greg had been taking himself to task lately for not stirring his
bones to start his life up again, but he just lacked that spark
that would get him moving.  He knew he was drifting.  It occurred
to him in a flash of insight that he might be foolish: one could
drift into rough waters as easily as peaceful waters.  He had
been assuming that, at some point, some guy would walk into his
life, want him, and then all the pieces would fall back into
place.  Life would start up pretty much as it had been.  He
realized that not only was there no guarantee that that would
happen automatically but that it would never happen without his
taking responsibility for jump-starting his life again.

While Greg sat morosely dissecting his life, Denton Cooper
swaggered by, noting Greg's longer, curly hair, tight, designer
jeans, crossed legs, chain around his neck.  "Fag," he said
softly to himself.  But Greg had heard the epithet, for his eye
had been caught by Denton's tall, leggy form.  He liked what he
saw but hated what he'd heard.

"What was that?" he challenged the stranger, who whirled around
and then belligerently approached Greg.

"Fag!" Denton spat out.

For Greg, this was the last straw.  He rose and stalked over to
Denton, his eyes fiery.  "You don't even know me, Knucklehead.
So you better not be calling me names."

"You are a fag, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I don't like the way you raise the issue, Retard," Greg
responded.

Being a high school dropout, Greg's epithet "retard" stung
Denton.  In response, he started to swing his arm back.  With
lightning speed, Greg stomped hard on the toes of Denton's left
foot with the heel of his shoe.

The pain was immediate and intense, expressing itself in a bellow
from Denton, who raised his foot to his hands and immediately
toppled over backwards.  Greg wasn't surprised at all.  It was
one of several moves Ross had taught him to turn the tide when
someone got in his face.

"Why'd you do that?" Denton whined.

"Don't get in my face, Man.  Just because someone's gay, you
shouldn't assume that they're punching material for you and your
nasty personality."

Denton snarled, starting to arise, but Greg planted his shoe
right on Denton's crotch, noting quite a nice lump there.  "I'd
keep my ass planted on the sidewalk if I were you, Slim."  Denton
rolled down onto his back.  "Just lie there and recover," Greg
commanded.  "What's up with you anyway?  I'm just sitting here,
peacefully minding my own business.  Then you have to put me
down.  What makes you think you're so special anyway?"

"Fuck off."

"Well, articulate you are not," Greg muttered with a superior
air.

"I suppose you think you are.  You spoiled rich kids are all the
same.  And you all seem to run to fags."

"Just because you realize you can't make yourself fit in, you
have to start calling people 'fags' to feel superior.  Do you
know how pathetic that is?"

"I'm not pathetic," Denton remonstrated, starting to rise again,
stinging more than Greg knew from the charge that Denton didn't
fit in, but Greg ground his foot into Denton's crotch just enough
to remind him to stay where he was.  "And how do you know I don't
fit in?" Denton shot back.

"If you did, you'd try to find some common ground.  Only someone
who feels he can't fit in starts out being hostile to others.
It's such an obvious defense mechanism."

Denton knew the kid was right.  He couldn't even fit in his own
family - ever since . . . .  Denton stared at Greg, flushing.  "I
suppose you think you've got all the answers?"

Greg frowned, a gesture not missed by Denton.  "No, in fact,
before you rudely interrupted, I was assessing the sad state of
affairs that I've allowed my life to become."

"What'd you do?" Denton asked suspiciously, rising enough to lean
back on his elbows, finding it difficult to believe this guy had
problems.

Greg turned his head away, grinding his foot down harder on
Denton's crotch just as Denton thought he'd distracted Greg
enough to throw his foot off and then jump him and pound him.
"Life tossed me a curve ball, and I stepped away from the plate,"
Greg answered.

"Huh?" Denton asked after he'd realized that Greg was onto his
ploy.

"My boyfriend's dad died.  He had to go back home.  It's over for
us.  We didn't do anything wrong, but it's over for us."  Greg
pursed his lips.  "There's no one for me now.  I've just been
existing, not trying to do anything to put my life back together.
I've been pushing away friends who wanted to help with that.
I've pretty much burned my bridges there.  I could use their
help, but I don't think I can ask for it now because I've been
such an asshole to them."

Denton couldn't believe what he was hearing.  Here was this
stranger, a rich kid, a good-looking guy, intelligent, spilling
his guts to him, a stranger who'd wanted to pound him.  How could
he do that?  Denton couldn't even talk to his buddy, Burt Graham,
about his feelings, his loneliness, his isolation, his hurt.  His
parents and all his brothers and sisters had given up on him a
long time ago.  This conversation was amazing!

Greg's eyes swept over Denton's face, picking up vibes that told
him Denton had suddenly heard something to which he'd connected.
"Why are you looking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Something I said registered with you.  What was it?"

"Bug off," Denton retorted grumpily.

Greg studied him for a few seconds, removed his foot from
Denton's crotch, noting that it felt a little denser than it had
been earlier.  He reached down, clasping Denton's hand and
pulling him upright.

Denton was surprised at the change in his circumstances.  He was
also surprised by Greg's strength.  "Come over here and sit down
with me," Greg commanded.

"Why should I?" Denton challenged, none too politely.

"Because we may be the best thing that's happened for each other
in a while," Greg explained as he sat on one end of the bench.

"How could that be?" Denton asked, edging over to the bench.

"Unless I miss my guess, you and I have ended up in the same
place personally even though we might not have started at the
same place," Greg answered, gesturing for Denton to seat himself
at the other end of the bench.

"Whad'a ya mean?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the plank
bench.

"When I was talking about feeling lost, about turning aside
others' attempts to help me, your pupils narrowed and the
expression on your face tightened.  You connected with the
description of where I saw myself.  Means either you were in the
same place once in your life, or you are there now.  If we talk
to each other, we can at least understand our circumstances
better.  Maybe it will be enough to give us a kick in the ass so
that we start moving forward."

"You're a homo.  How can you help me?"

"You're starting to sound stupid again."

Denton sprang off the bench with Greg not far behind him.  "Do I
have to ground you again to get you to listen?" Greg asked.

"I'm NOT stupid!"

"Then quit behaving as though you are!" Greg snapped back.

"Whad' I do?"

"You applied that label 'homo' to me as though I couldn't relate
to you, help you.  We're people first, you know."  Greg looked
around back of Denton.  "And I don't see that many people lining
up who want to help you.  By the way, what's your name?"

Denton remained silent.  He studied Greg for the longest time,
pondering how thoughtlessly the slur had been on the tip of his
tongue.  Greg spoke softly, "Do it nicely.  You know how."  Then
he stood waiting.

Gradually, Denton held out his hand.  "Denton Cooper."

"Greg Dunwoodie."  They shook hands.  "Where do you go to
school?"

Denton frowned.  "I don't."

"Oh," Greg replied, realizing that it wouldn't be productive at
this point to sound judgmental.  "Why don't we sit back down
again, talk a little?"  If they could manage to be civil to each
other for a bit, Greg thought he might invite Denton to Osama's
for a cup of coffee.  "I told you how my troubles began.  What
started you down this road?" Greg asked gently.

Denton sat, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, rubbing his
hands together. The longer he thought, the more agitated his
hands became, a signal of inner turmoil not missed by Greg.
Denton pulled in a couple of breaths quickly. "Don't ever trust
the ones who are supposed to love you," he blurted out.  "They
are the ones who'll betray you.  Hurt you - when you least expect
it."  Greg saw the tears sparkling in Denton's eyes, and he hurt
for him.  He placed his hand on Denton's shoulder, who pulled it
back from under Greg's hand.

"What are you doing?" he challenged Greg.

"Offering comfort," Greg replied.  "Telling you that I recognize
how much you're hurting.  Telling you I don't want you to hurt
that much."

Denton shrank back.  "Don't touch me, Fag!"

Greg shook his head wearily.  "Now what?  Can't you see when
someone is offering you a gesture of peace for all the difficulty
you have experienced?"

Denton stared back at Greg, at a loss for words.  "I . . . I
don't . . . I don't need a fag feeling sorry for me!" he
exclaimed.

"What you need," Greg stated, "is a fag loving you.  Anyone
loving you so that you know you're okay.  There's nothing wrong
with you, Denton.  You're a person worth loving.  I'll love you,
if you allow it."

Denton drew back as though he'd been struck.  "You hitting on
me?" Denton asked sharply.

"Oh, Denton, I'm not talking about homosexual love.  That's not
what's required to save you.  Just love.  Love from any person.
When another person offers you love, they validate your
personhood.  Your reason for taking up space on this earth, for
breathing.  Can't you see what a rare commodity love really is?
I KNOW you understand all the counterfeit behaviors that pass for
love.  You've apparently been the victim of several of them.
You've been deprived by the very people who are responsible for
offering it to you.  That's a low blow!"  Denton rubbed his hands
together harder, squirming on the bench.

"I'll tell you that the hardest lesson for you to learn," Greg
continued, "is that, out there in the future, you have to forgive
them for their shortcomings."  Denton stared at Greg, trying to
assess Greg's motives in this line of conversation.

"'But,' you argue," Greg sassily assumed Denton's place in their
conversation, rocking his head back and forth as he spoke as
though he were rehearsing lines in a script, "'that would be
letting them off the hook.'  NO!  It's not about them. It's about
you!  You forgive them to allow YOU to move into the healing
waters! You deserve the healing waters; you are worthy of them.
But the fare to enter the waters is forgiveness.  The quickness
with which you offer it, Denton, is a measure of your strength.
Notice how quickly, once you started hearing me, you came over to
this bench to talk with me.  That required strength.  You
probably have more strength than you realize.  Most people who've
been victimized for a long time do possess hidden strength.  They
just don't see it.  And they couldn't have survived the
victimization if they hadn't possessed that strength.  It takes
strength to forgive.  Maybe most people in your life would not
credit you with the ability to forgive so easily.  But if you act
according to their expectations, you limit yourself.  You subject
yourself to their limitations.  Isn't that what you've been
fighting?  Their diminished expectations for you?  Shove it back
in their faces, Man.  Show them dignity and honor.  They won't
understand it, but others will, and at some point, those others
will realize the limitations of your family. Their respect for
you will grow.  Can you last that long?  Queer that I am, I'll
help you just because you deserve it."

Greg studied Denton.  He was obviously taking in all that Greg
had said.  "You and I made a mistake," Greg continued.  "We could
deal with all this shit if we'd kept our friends close to us,
connected with them.  But we closed them out, so we had nothing
to buffer the negative stuff we encountered.  That caused us to
turn inside ourselves to block any more of the junk that hurt
us."

Denton was looking at Greg, but mulling over all Greg had said.
He slowly shook his head in understanding.  "How did you get to
be so smart about this stuff?"

"I've been thinking a lot about it, trying to analyze what has
made me hurt, then trying to figure out why, and lately what I
can do about it, what I can do to get back on track."

"Can you forgive people who've put you down, hurt you when you
didn't do anything to ask for it?"

"That's one place where we're different.  Circumstances caused my
problem. But I guess people caused yours.  Maybe if you tell me
about it, I can suggest something for you."

Greg sat patiently while Denton weighed the invitation.  Finally
he shrugged his shoulders.  "I'm the youngest in a big family.
All my brothers and sisters are older.  One day my dad and my
brothers were working on the roof of our home. My mom said I was
too little to be up on the house with them, so I was playing
around on the ground just below where they were.  I just wanted
to be near them. I'd been running in and out of the house.  I
guess they thought I wasn't down below because I overheard my
father calling me 'the Accident.'   My dad was a man's man -
never had time for me.  I realized later why he was that way with
me.  He'd already established 'buddy' relationships with my three
older brothers. Much like Dad, they mostly ignored me.  They were
into girls and sports when I was born.  Once, my brother John,
while on a visit home from college, called me a 'leak.'  I'd been
bugging him to do something with me.  I guess I pissed him off.

"'What?" I asked John, not understanding.

"You were a leak in the rubber.  That's how you happened, Leak,"
John said.

I know I blushed.  "I was not!" I responded, hurt and angry.

"That's what Dad told us," John had responded, contemptuously.
Just then Mom inquired from the kitchen what we were arguing
about.  John said we were arguing about a football game on TV.
The rest of the weekend, John didn't pass up an opportunity to
needle me, calling me 'Leak.'  Seemed like every time he did it,
I felt smaller and smaller.  After John went back to college, I
thought a lot about it.  I knew then my dad must feel the same
way about me.  I guess my other brothers did too.  I wondered if
my sisters knew, for they didn't seem to see much more use for me
than my brothers.  For a long time after that, I replayed this
shit over and over in my mind.  It was a bad movie.  I just
seemed to sink lower and lower.  I couldn't talk to anyone about
it because I thought it would make me feel even worse - I'd get
the same reaction.  Even when my friend Burt Graham pulled me to
him and introduced me to his buddies, I couldn't tell him this
shit."  Denton paused a moment.  "So why am I telling a fag
this?"

Greg let out a gasp of exasperation.  "Denton, are you stupid?"

Denton shot off the park bench. "DON'T CALL ME STUPID!"

"Well, how stupid do you have to be," Greg shot back, "not to
realize that you are doing exactly to me what your brothers and
dad did to you?"

Denton froze.  'Greg was right.  He was doing to him exactly what
John had done to him. He'd been taken over by his father's and
brothers' behavior.  Damn! He hated that!  How could he not have
seen it?'  Slowly he sat down on the bench, resting his elbows on
his knees and his head in his hands.  No amount of macho
sensibility could staunch the flow of tears and the silent sobs
that wracked his body.

Greg slowly rested an arm over Denton's shoulders, squeezing the
muscular ball that rested under his hand.  "It's okay, Denton.
You're okay.  You didn't realize that evil replicates itself like
a virus.  The shit you had to bear was what you dealt out to
others.  But now you know.  It never has to happen again.  You
never have to cause it again.  You are smarter, wiser, more
compassionate.  See how we've helped each other?"  Denton slowly
allowed his body to slide toward Greg, resting his head in the
crook of Greg's neck.  Suddenly, he felt drained, empty, but,
oddly, clean.  How could one have "clean feelings"?

"What do I do now?" Denton asked softly.  Greg placed his hand
under Denton's chin, raising to to lift Denton's eyes to his.
"Celebrate the Great Denton Cooper, who has gained more wisdom
in one day that his entire family possesses.  Celebrate a new
friend he has, Greg Dunwoodie, who honors him and who needs him
as a friend.  Come have a cup of coffee with me while we plans
some stuff together for this next week."

				***

Evan entered the main office of the school after his last class
and on his way home.  He'd dropped by to leave a list of
assignments for a senior who had been injured in a car wreck.
After he'd left the papers with a secretary, he turned around
and ran into Mary Ellen Branson, head of the Science Department.
She was preparing to tack a flyer on the huge bulletin board
for faculty members. "Oh Evan," she effused, "such good news.
I know you'll be delighted.  We're all so excited.  Tim Minor
is the keynote speaker at a professional development conference
for teachers in this five-county area.  It'll be at the Radisson
downtown."

Evan's heart plummeted; he immediately was angry at himself.
After all this time, the mere mention that Tim would be in town
made him want to run and hide.  It couldn't happen at a worse
time with Ron and him in some kind of suspended state.  It meant
he could not count on their relationship offering him any kind of
refuge when he felt so threatened by Tim's mere presence.  Why
did he feel so threatened?  His knuckles must have been white,
but he managed to mask his reaction.  Mary Ellen was awaiting a
comment.  Evan hoped his voice held steady.  "What kind of
professional development conference brings Tim back here?"

"Oh," Mary Ellen uttered breathlessly, "it's his new job -
arranging for summer internships for teachers working out in
business places connected to their teaching fields so that they
can take the experience and learning back to their students."

"I thought that involved only chem teachers."

"Well, Tim impressed officials in the state department of
education so much that they asked him to enlarge the program to
include all teachers.  He's connected with some legislator, who
must have lobbied for that purpose.  He was instrumental in the
legislature appropriating special funding just for this program.
That's why this conference is so big.  It'll put Tim 'on the
educational map' in the state," she gushed.  "You're attending,
surely?" she asked.

"I'll have to check my calendar," Evan replied.

He made motions of leaving.  "Don't miss it," Mary Ellen emoted.
"You'll regret it.  Imagine what exciting summer activities may
await you," she said, smiling.  Evan smiled back as he turned to
leave.

'Yeah right, like I'm going to come within a mile of Tim,' Evan
thought.  He wondered if he should alert Ron.  He pondered the
matter as he walked down the north hall to the parking lot and
his car.  He decided that if he said anything to Ron, he might
assume Evan was warning him so that he could avoid Tim.  He
didn't know that Ron wanted to do that at all.  Especially at
this juncture, he didn't want to imply to Ron that he had any
standing to tell Ron what to do.  He decided he'd leave the
matter alone.  Either Ron found out or he didn't.  It wasn't any
of Evan's business.  In a flash Evan realized that Ron already
knew about Tim's impending arrival because it would have been
discussed in the Science Department.  He halted for a minute in
the parking lot, asking himself why Ron said nothing.  A bit of
mulling led him to the realization that Ron probably said nothing
for the very same reasons he had resolved to keep quiet.  He
slowly started moving on to his car, trying to push away faint
whispers that Ron might be glad Tim was coming back to town.

The next morning, Evan found a "Return Phone Call" slip in his
mailbox.  It indicated that a Tim Minor had called, asking him to
call him at the number listed on the slip.  Evan quietly snorted
in contempt.  He crumpled the paper in his hand, throwing it into
a wastebasket by the mailboxes.

				***

The next two weeks flew by, highlighted by the weekend visit of
Troy's brothers Drew, Justin, and Riley.  Emily Morgan was excited
that the boys, who had seen Troy only fleetingly at basketball
games, would have the entire weekend with Troy.  The boys were
glad for a change of scene, and they were excited to spend some
time with their older brother, whom each idolized to one degree
or another. Troy was happy to be back in contact with his family
although he wondered how to smooth over his rapid departure from
their midst without causing any more difficulty.  Susan, Cody and
he had spent more than one evening hatching and refining plans for
a fun-filled weekend for the boys.  Jeremy and Kenny were also
recruited to help out.  They'd promised to be in residence that
weekend to help Troy out with the fellas.  Evan was glad because
Troy would enjoy some family contact while sharing "his home" with
his brothers.  It promised to be an eventful weekend.

Troy had asked his mother, Emily, to bring the boys over after
school on Friday so that they could settle in, meet Evan, have
dinner, and then start out on a "movie evening" that Susan, Cody,
and he had planned.  They had decided to hit Blockbusters to rent
a stack of movies that the boys liked or would like since they
hadn't seen as many as Troy and his crew had.  They'd ask Jeremy
and Kenny to maybe invite a few other friends over so that the
boys had plenty of people to draw them out, keep them occupied.
On the spur of the moment, Troy had asked Burt and Jonah over for
Friday evening.  He thought both of them could benefit from
socializing with the crew.

Troy decided that party central would be the family room because
of its proximity to his bedroom and the gym and bathroom in the
basement.  It would allow the kitchen and dining room to be
buffers for the rest of the house since his brothers were
boisterous.  He didn't want Evan to feel crowded.  His brothers
were bringing their sleeping bags for use on the floor in the
family room.  When Evan had asked what the boys wanted to eat,
Troy suggested pizza for Friday evening.  He said they'd all have
dinner out Saturday evening with Susan and Cody, perhaps Jeremy
and Kenny if he could rope them in.  Evan worried that dinner out
for that many would "break Troy's bank," but Troy explained that
Emily had provided ample funds for dinner out.  She would pick
the boys up late Sunday morning so that they could do their
homework before school on Monday.

On Friday afternoon, Emily arrived with Drew, Justin, and Riley.
Drew, an eighth-grader, resembled his tall, muscular jock older
brother.  Like Troy, he was going to be a blond Adonis.  Already
young women were beginning to swarm around him in his last year
in junior high school.  Justin, a seventh-grader at the same
school, was just beginning to shoot up like his older brothers.
But while his blond brothers favored their father, he favored his
mother, with dazzling blue eyes, finely shaped, almost delicate
features.  Only time would tell if he was going to be on the
shorter side like his mother.  Still a young boy, Riley was in
the third grade.  He hadn't developed enough to indicate whether
he'd look like his older two brothers or Justin.  Riley was
assertive, loud, and totally extroverted, apparently a result of
having to work hard among those older brothers to be noticed and
heard.  He was also too cute for words.

As Troy opened the door, he noticed the boys each bringing a
workout bag holding extra clothes and a sleeping bag to the front
door, all ahead of their mother, who was struggling to carry two
packed grocery bags.  Troy stepped outside, greeting his brothers
warmly.  "Hey, guys, why aren't you carrying those groceries
instead of Mom?  Put your sleeping bags here and go help Mom."

Drew responded "Huh?"  Justin stared back at Troy.

"Be gentlemen.  Go help your mother.  Besides, you should be
allowing her to precede you.  That's what real men with manners
do."

"Oh," Drew said, dropping his things and returning to help his
mother.  "Here Mom, let me carry those," he said, taking the bags
gently from her.

"Justin, go help your mother," Troy said gently.

"Oh . . . yeah," Justin said, following Drew's lead, dropping his
things and trotting up to Emily and Drew and grabbing one of the
bags of groceries.

"Hi, Mom," Troy greeted Emily.  She walked into his arms as he
leaned down and embraced her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Then he held the door open. Justin made as if to move through the
door first with the groceries, but a sharp look from Troy halted
him in his tracks.  Suddenly understanding dawned in his eyes,
causing him to step back in deference to his mother.  "Come on
in," Troy invited first his mother and then his brothers.

Susan had been standing inside the door observing the short by-
play, smiling, understanding that Troy's tutelage of his brothers
had begun, a necessary counter balance to their father's self-
centered behavior.

Susan had moved back from the door, but when Emily spied her, she
exclaimed, "Susan, I'm so glad you're here!  I don't see you
often enough."  She walked over to Susan with her arms out,
exchanging a hug.  Susan hugged back, understanding, from Troy's
account of his discussion with his mother several weeks earlier,
that Emily wasn't just greeting her.  She was indicating that she
accepted Troy's relationship with Cody and her.  While they were
exchanging pleasantries, Troy's brothers walked in the living
room, looking this way and that.

"Hey, Dude," Drew asked Troy, "where's the kitchen?"

"Through the dining room there," Troy gestured.

"I don't want to impose on Evan dreadfully," Emily explained to
Troy and Susan, "so I brought some snacks and food for the herd.
They eat A LOT!"

"I know Evan will tell you that you needn't have done it, but
he'll appreciate it too," Troy replied.  "Hey guys, let's get
your stuff.  I'll show you where to put it while I give you a
tour of the place."

"Bout time," Riley spouted off.  "I been standin' here waitin'
for something to happen."

"Oh yeah," Troy said, grabbing him and running his fingers up and
down Riley's ribs, causing him to writhe and giggle.  "When did
you get to be so mouthy, Boy?"

Riley spun out of Troy's grasp, assuming a karate stance.  "I'm
not a boy," he shot back, grinning evilly.  Troy mirrored Riley's
stance, and they postured a few karate moves against each other.
Suddenly, Riley flung himself on one of Troy's legs, wrapping
around it like Velcro, pulling on the leg in an attempt to topple
Troy.  Troy had a time peeling him off.  Susan and Emily watched
in quiet amusement, Emily thinking how good this weekend was
going to be for the boys, Susan observing how Troy would behave
as a father.  Finally Troy straightened, "Come on, guys, get your
stuff."

He led the boys through the dining room into the kitchen and the
family room. "Here's where you'll be camping out, but we're going
to take your stuff down to my bedroom."

"How's come we can't leave it here," Riley asked.  Drew and
Justin, having learned that they seldom had to question a command
or request because Riley would beat them to it, turned to Troy
with the same question written on their faces.

"We aren't the only people living here.  Others use this room
too, so to be polite, we have to keep it looking good for them."

"So where's this bedroom?" Riley asked in a slightly sassy tone.

"Follow me," Troy said, taking them down the steps.  As soon as
Drew saw the gym, he whistled, followed by a loud "Cool!  Hey
Man, you work out here, right?" he asked Troy.

"Yeah, a lot."

"Can we work out here too?"

"Sure.  We'll work out tomorrow morning after we have a little
breakfast."

"That include me?" Riley asked.

"If you want.  Your puny little body could stand some building
up, and that little butt is flat as a quarter."

Riley nearly fell on his face trying to look over his shoulder at
his butt.  "My butt is NOT flat!" Riley shot back with attitude,
whereupon his brothers all started laughing.  "You guys don't
know anything," he muttered in mock injury, clearly trying to
keep an emerging grin under wraps.

"Bring your things in here," Troy gestured to his bedroom.  "In
the morning when you wake up, roll up your sleeping bags and
bring them down here."

"You sleeping down here?" Justin asked.  "Yeah," Troy replied.

"Is Susan sleeping with you?" Riley queried, a sly look on his
face.

"No, why?" Troy asked, looking vacuous and, therefore, innocent.

"Is that why Dad said you were a fag?" Riley asked in a more
subdued fashion, realizing that it was a sensitive issue.

"No," Troy said, turning somber.  He was silent for a few beats,
pondering the situation in which he found himself.  "Guys, come
over here and sit down on the bed.  We may as well sort this out
now before we get into the weekend."  The three younger brothers
did as bidden.  Troy sat on the carpet facing them.

"What do you know about why I left home?"

The three looked back and forth at each other.  Justin was the
first to reply.  "We only know what we've overheard."

"What's that," Troy asked quietly.

"Dad kicked you out because you're a homo.  We heard Mom and him
talking loudly about it in their bedroom the next morning.  Boy,
Troy, was Mom ever pissed!  I've never seen her so mad.  I don't
know what she said to Dad, but when they came out of their
bedroom to breakfast, they were really quiet and Dad was really
red in the face," Justin recounted.

"And that's when Mom gave her speech that I told you about," Drew
added.

"Whoops!" Riley popped off.  "I said one of those words we aren't
supposed to say. . . . Please guys, don't tell Mom.  When I said
it I wasn't using it in a nasty way.  I just have wanted to ask
Troy, and this is the first chance I've had. . . . Please?" he
asked ingenuously.

"Okay," Troy answered, "but you have to try to keep from using
that word, Riley."

"Okay," he replied meekly.  "Why can't we say those words, Troy?
Dad does."

"Because they are meant to hurt, Riley.  We don't have a right to
hurt anyone who has done nothing to us.  They also are hate
words.  Hate is an emotion we humans need to stay away from.  It
turns us into bad people, sometimes monsters.  You can't be good
and hateful at the same time."

"So why did Dad call you that?" Drew asked Troy.

Troy thought for a moment.  "You may have noticed that when Dad
doesn't like the way we behave, he sometimes uses those words to
push us back into line, HIS line.  He overheard me talking to
Susan.  He didn't like what I was saying, so he called me that
name."

"What were you saying to Susan?" Drew asked.

Troy smiled.  "Something personal between Susan and me."

"I don't understand why he'd say you were a homo then," Drew
persisted. "Something had to be really wrong for him to throw you
out."

Troy frowned, again pondering an answer.  "For a long time Dad
hasn't liked me and Cody being friends.  I think if it were
possible, he'd have told me Cody couldn't play on the same
basketball team with me."  Drew started shaking his head in
understanding.

"Like he tries to tell us how to play basketball," Drew
interrupted.

"Yes.  You guys have seen how close Cody and I are.  I hope you
will have friends who are that close someday.  I'm too old for
dad to be telling me that I can't have someone as a friend or
that I have to play ball a certain way. . . . We just weren't
seeing eye to eye.

"Are you gay," Justin asked quietly.

"Dope," Drew shot back at Justin.  "Susan's his girlfriend.  He
couldn't be gay."

Justin looked alarmed.  "I'm sorry, Troy.  I just don't
understand why everyone's mad all of a sudden.  I don't know what
went wrong, what these bad names mean."

Troy smiled weakly.  "I understand, Justin.  Look, we've got all
weekend to discuss this.  Maybe it will work better if I talk to
each one of you individually. Then you can be certain all your
questions are answered."   The boys looked back at him levelly.

Just then Emily called down the stairs, "Boys, come say good-bye
before I leave."

Troy smiled, gesturing his brothers to the door.  They clambered
up the steps. Troy smiled, wondering how long ago he'd started
walking up steps instead of assaulting them in that manner.  All
that energy!

When they were in the living room saying good-bye to Emily, Evan
walked in. He immediately shook Emily's hand and walked over to
hug Susan.  He spoke a greeting to Troy and looked at his
brothers.  He looked back at the adults and said, archly, "I
think there are Morgans in the house.  Who might these Morgans
be?"

Troy stepped forward, introducing each of his brothers and then
telling them that they were in Evan's home and that Evan was
Susan's and his English teacher and also the father of one of his
good friends, Jeremy Halsey, whom they would meet soon.  Riley
was eyeing Evan closely, taking Evan's measure.  "Are you the
boss?" he challenged impudently.

Evan stared at Riley until he knew they were concentrating on
each other.  "If I have to be.  Why, do you need a boss, Riley?"
Evan asked kindly.

"Of course not," Riley responded.  He eyed his older brothers.
"Drew and Justin do though.  Troy's always after them to clean up
their act."

Justin gasped in protest.  Drew snorted in contempt at his
younger brother.  "You little Dweeb!"  Justin exclaimed.  "You're
the one who needs to clean up his act!"  Suddenly he blushed,
looking first at Emily and then Troy.  "Sorry," he said softly,
realizing that he'd violated his mother's prohibition against
slurs.

Emily Morgan spoke softly, "Riley."  That was all that was needed
to put him on notice that he was teetering on the edge of
unacceptable behavior.  Riley frowned, then pursed his lips but
said nothing more.

'My,' Evan thought, 'she's already established her position with
the boys.  All that's needed is just the mere mention of a son's
name.'

Just then the front door opened and Jeremy and Kenny entered,
bearing book bags and workout bags.  "Hey guys," Jeremy said in
greeting, moving immediately to his father and hugging and
kissing him, followed by Kenny, all noted with interest by Troy's
three brothers.  Then Jeremy and Kenny turned to Troy and Susan,
greeting them as brother and sister.  Troy immediately introduced
them to Emily and then to his brothers, making it clear that
Jeremy was Evan's son and Kenny was Jeremy's boyfriend.  At this,
the brothers' looks at Jeremy and Kenny intensified, a factor not
lost on the adults.  But the Morgan boys were aware that Emily
was monitoring their reactions, so they remained in control of
their behavior.

"Gentlemen and Susan," Emily broke in, "I must take my leave.
Evan, thank you so much for your hospitality, for allowing the
boys this opportunity to be together."

"My pleasure," Evan responded with a smile.  All the while, the
younger Morgans were attending to the adults' exchanges.

"Susan, would Troy allow you out of his company long enough for
us to do lunch some Saturday?  I'd love the opportunity for us
two just to visit together."

"I too," Susan replied warmly.  "How about next weekend?"

"Great.  Where do we meet?" Emily asked.

"How about lunch at Francini's Italian Restaurant at noon
straight up?" Susan asked.  "Tony Francini and Angela Walker are
classmates of ours.  We'll receive the royal treatment."

"Wonderful," Emily replied.  She again offered departing
salutations, kissing each of the boys.  Riley postured impatience
at her motherly gestures, but his eyes were shining when Emily
leaned down to hug and kiss him.  "Bye, my little man," she
whispered.  "Make me proud."  Evan realized that whatever bond
Emily had with her other sons, there was a special bond between
her and this little firecracker.  He loved his mother even if he
tried to hide it.

After Emily had left, Evan asked, "So guys, what's the game
plan."

Troy filled Evan in on each day of the weekend plans, indicating
that Evan was free to join in whenever he wished.  When Evan
heard the beginning line-up of movies for the evening, he
indicated one he might watch with the crew.  Then Troy explained
the plan for early morning, including a workout for all the
younger men.

"So you're going to work out too?" Evan asked Riley.

"Yeah."  Riley replied.  "They begged me to."  His brothers were
stifling grins at Riley's bravado.  "But I DON'T have a flat
BUTT!" he charged back at Evan.

Startled, Evan replied, "I'm glad to hear it," which caused all
but Riley and Evan to break out in gales of laughter.

(To be continued.)

I apologize to my readers.  Way too much time has passed since my
last posting.  Lots of travel, job-related issues, bringing work
home, etc.