Date: Thu, 6 Jun 2002 00:44:45 -0400
From: Sequoyah <sequoyah@charter.net>
Subject: Aaron and Andreas 1

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either
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			     Author's Comments

This story is the outgrowth of an event which resulted in a very long
story, A Special Place, and its parallel sequels, The Concord Five and The
Oberlin Five, although it has no direct connection to those. A Special
Place was written at the request of a gay student who said, "Doc, you ought
to write a story which includes the things you have told us and we have
talked about," us being gay students for whom I was a shoulder to cry on, a
counselor and, most importantly, friend. One afternoon, I found myself
imagining what might have been the story of that young man's
acknowledgement of his sexuality. "Aaron and Andreas" is the result of that
imagining. It is in no way the real story of that young man's life. It is
pure fiction. It is, however, presented in tribute to him. This is for you,
D, with thanks wherever you are. May the gods smile on you.

Sequoyah


If you liked this story, you might enjoy A Special Place, posted on
Nifty-High School and at http://go.to/gaywritersguild. A note is always
appreciated: sequoyah@charter.net.


			     Andreas and Aaron

Monday, Andreas was off to school and I drove to the station. Ralph greeted
me with, "The Superintendent wants to see the two of us. I was told it is
some hush-hush project."

When we got to the big man's office, he told us to close the door and take
a seat. Before we sat down, he introduced us to Chief Haynes of the Macon
Police Department. "Chief Haynes, I'll let you explain what's going on."

"You, of course, know that I-75 runs from Florida north and is the main
route for drug distribution from the Florida ports. Macon is a kind of hub
for drugs intended for Atlanta, Savannah and Columbus, as well as Macon.
The distributors and dealers in Macon are very clever. Macon is small
enough that most everyone knows everyone. It's hard for our boys to do
anything because they are known. What we want to do is have someone from
the outside go underground and see what they can find out. In looking over
files, the Superintendent and I were impressed with your record, Johnson.
What had special appeal was the fact that Detective Hicks had recommended
you in the most impressive way. He asked for you as his partner. I'm
convinced the right person could get the information we need in short
time--a month, six weeks max."

"Johnson, I suppose I could order you to take the job, but I won't. It's
dangerous, and the type of police work that requires the willingness of the
person undertaking it. If you accept the task, you'll die in a way not yet
determined. In accordance with your wishes, there will be a small private
funeral and your ashes scattered somewhere. There will be a big write-up
here and in Macon. We'll have to work that out. You will be given a new
identity as an ex-con. You will be released on a parole and have to report
to your parole officer weekly. He will be your contact. There will be no
other contacts. I won't kid you, the job is dangerous. We have lost two
officers already to the dealers, at least we think they are responsible.
Since you have no family, that problem is eliminated."

"I do have a young man I took in who is my unofficial ward. What will be
done about him?"

"I didn't know this. What's the situation?"

I decided if these men were going to be my lifeline, they better be able to
handle Andreas' situation, so I told them why he came to live with me. They
promised they would keep an eye out for him and told Ralph he could
consider checking on Andreas as part of his job. "I'll also look into Kumba
Richardson's file, but I will do nothing until you're resurrected," the
Superintendent said. "Can't have him snooping around trying to find out
where I got my information. Think about the task and let me know in the
next day or so. If you decide to take it on, there will be some pretty
intense training as well as work creating your new identity. I'd like to
have a man on the streets of Macon by next weekend."

"I wouldn't have hesitated a few months ago, but now that I am responsible
for Andreas, I'm not sure. He will have to know I am not dead. Given his
emotional state now I would not subject him to believing I am dead."

"Do you think he can convince everyone he DOES believe it? I don't! If he
knew, I am much afraid it will put you in greater danger," the Chief
declared.

"Leave Andreas to me," Ralph said. "If it becomes absolutely necessary, I
will tell him, otherwise his distress is your life insurance, Aaron."

"I'll have your answer as soon as I can," I said.

When we got in the car, Ralph said, "Aaron, this is a very dangerous
assignment you are being asked to do, but it could make a real difference
in the drug trafficking here, and that's why you became a policeman,
right?"

"Right, Of course, right. But now? Now I have Andreas to consider. And even
that situation is different than it was a week ago. And he graduates in a
few weeks. I might miss that."

"We're in a job that does require sacrifices. I'll make sure there is a
full video of the event if you aren't here for graduation if you accept the
assignment. But what's this about the situation with Andreas changing?"

I had told Ralph nothing about prom weekend beyond the fact that we both
had gone and had a good time. "I guess it's now or never," I thought to
myself, took a deep breath and told Ralph everything.

"Yeah, the situation is different all right. And you two haven't talked
since, I mean about Andreas' confession of love?"

"No, I don't know what to say and I guess Andreas is just waiting for me to
say something."

"What are you afraid of?" Ralph asked. "I guess you are not 100% gay. Few
are, just as there are few 100% heteros. But, Aaron, LaTonya, Ms. Allen and
I have all hinted at what we see and that is you are more on the gay side
of the equation than the straight side. I think you know that as well, just
haven't admitted it to yourself."

"I know I am confused and I guess I am beginning to admit that I am gay. I
know one thing, Ralph, I am falling in love with Andreas, but he's so
young."

"Yeah, when you retire at sixty-five he will be only sixty-two and have to
take an early retirement and wait three years for medicare!" Ralph
laughed. "Right now we need to be talking about how we are going to deal
with Andreas if you decide to take the assignment. I'm worried that if he
knows you are ok in Macon, he won't be able to hide the fact, or at least
won't be able to convince anyone he's devastated by your death, and anyone
who knows him will know something is wrong. I know something about what's
going on there because I got called in to be asked about you. Aaron, I am
convinced when this situation blows, there will be a lot of surprises.
Right now I wouldn't trust anyone knowing you are not dead if you take the
assignment. Not even Andreas. He might make an innocent slip and get you
killed."

"You are right, of course, but at the same time, I can't put him through
weeks and months of grieving for me, and he would."

"Certainly true after what you told me about last weekend." We talked over
the next two days as we were going about pretty routine matters. I, of
course, had said nothing to Andreas. Life had settled back into pretty much
the routine it had been in before the prom. Well, not exactly. There was a
lot more touching going on, arms around shoulders when it seemed natural.
It was increasingly obvious to me that I might not be 100% gay, but I was
close to 100% in love with Andreas. That was why it was getting harder all
the time for me to do what I did Thursday. Ralph and I went downtown to
headquarters as soon as he picked me up. We went to the big man's office
and I told him I'd take the assignment. I guess the idea that I might--God
knows how--lose Andreas to drugs did it. I had never done anything as hard
in my life as saying yes to the assignment.

"Great. I was afraid you wouldn't and I didn't have anyone else as good for
the job." We then discussed how it would be handled. I wasn't happy about
it, but it was a very good plan.

Thursday, at noon, I got a call on my cell phone--not the police
radio--from the superintendent. "Take your car to Perimeter Mall and drive
behind the Firestone place. You'll find my car there. Take it and leave
yours. The show is hitting the road." At 1:00 we got a call to join in a
high-speed chase on I-20 west. It was strange because we saw no other
police cars on the way out. Somewhere between Atlanta and Douglasville, we
saw two cars burning--very strange. When we arrived, the superintendent and
Macon's police chief were the only people present. "How did you guys get
here?" Ralph asked as we reach the scene.

"In the two cars," the superintendent answered, pointing to the burning
police and other car. "We finally have our bodies." The plan called for a
high-speed chase of a "felon" by "Aaron", a chase which ended in a fiery
crash. The two cars were to burst into flame, burning the two beyond
recognition. The burned bodies would be cremated and the ashes of "Aaron"
would be scattered in north Georgia at his request. "Aaron, as of a few
minutes ago, is no more. You'll be taken off the payroll as deceased and
all the proper papers filed--death certificate, everything. Even start
payments on your insurance."

"Superintendent, I haven't changed my beneficiary. I would have changed it
to Andreas if I had remembered.

"Aaron, unless this takes over six months, you don't have to worry. It
takes ages for insurance to get straightened out--after the request leaves
my desk."

I hated the plan, but knew it was the best possible way to get rid of
"Aaron". Fortunately, Ralph was the one who would have to comfort Andreas,
Jerry, and anyone else who might care.

When the fire department arrived, the superintendent had me in his car
along with the Macon chief. When the fire department--it was from
Douglasville to make sure no-one recognized me--started putting out the
fire, the superintendent left with the three of us in his car. We drove to
a secluded spot where the Macon chief's car had been hidden. I got out and
before I left said, "Ralph, take care of Andreas and let him know I love
him." I looked back as we left, wondering when, or even if, I'd see my
friends and Andreas again. It was a sobering thought.


>>>>>Ralph<<<<<

As the superintendent and I drove back into the city, I found myself on the
verge of tears. I was the one who would have to tell Andreas the news, the
terrible news, that Aaron was dead. "Ralph, I don't envy you your job, but
anyone else talking to the young man would appear strange. The bodies will
be taken to the Medical Examiner's as soon as possible, and he has arranged
to have his staff attend an in-service until 5:00. He will personally get
the bodies to the crematory. The ashes will be available Friday afternoon.
The two bodies were two the county would have to bury, so there will be no
questions. One's ashes will not be returned from the crematory. The other's
ashes, the ones you receive, will be taken to the mountains and scattered.
You made sure Aaron left specific instructions about that?" I nodded. "I am
hoping he will luck up and break this case soon."

"When can I tell Andreas that Aaron is not dead?"

"Only Aaron can do that. I am not kidding, Ralph, he is going into real
danger and I don't want to make it more dangerous than it is."

"Superintendent, I hope there is something in all this for Aaron. He took
this case because, as you know, he has suffered greatly because of drugs,
but I think there was another reason. A week ago, Andreas told Aaron he was
in love with him. Those of us who know Aaron well know he is bisexual if
not just gay, but Aaron doesn't know that or admit it. The fact that in
high school he dated the same girl for two years and they seldom had sex
should say something to him, but he just says he is confused. This
assignment will give him time away from all he knows, time to think and
sort things out."

"That could be dangerous. He needs his mind on his work."

"I'm betting money that it will make him very careful concerning his neck,
and a tiger on the job. At one point in his life, everyone he had cared
about was dead from drugs. He sure doesn't want that to happen again."

"I hope you are right."

"I am. Now I have to come up with a reason why Aaron is dead and I am alive
and without a scratch."

"Oh, a detail I hadn't thought about. How's this? You had gone to
Douglasville to testify in court. A very unimportant case so no-one will
remember whether or not you were there. I'll check the docket and pick
one."

"I guess I can't put it off any longer."

"Let me know if there is anything I can do. By the way, you have a
brand-new car. It's waiting for you."

"Thanks, I guess."

I went down and found my car waiting. Somehow or other it didn't seem
right. As I was driving--taking my time--to Aaron's place, I got a call on
the radio from the superintendent. "Ralph, I have just learned of your
partner's death this afternoon. I'm sorry. Call on me if I can be of
help. You're lucky you weren't with him or you'd be burned to death as
well. Even though you didn't get called to testify, going to Douglasville
was lucky for you."

"I guess I should feel lucky, but I don't."

"The reporters are here now. I'll try to keep them away from you and
Aaron's roommate. Again, call on me if I can help."

The superintendent was not a dunce. He knew anything he said over the radio
was instant in-house news.

When I reached Aaron's apartment, Andreas opened the door and when he saw
me asked, "Where's Aaron? What's wrong? I know something is wrong."

"Let's go inside, Andreas."

Once inside I told Andreas that Aaron was dead. I was prepared for his
response, I thought, but when it came, I was not. He fell on the floor,
weeping quietly, saying over and over again, "Everything I love is gone
with him. I have absolutely no reason to go on living, Ralph. Why couldn't
it have been me? Why? Why did Aaron have to die."

I lifted Andreas to his feet and held him close. "Andreas, grab some
clothes. You're going home with me."

"No, I'm staying here where I was with Aaron."

"No, you are not. You need people around you. Get some clothes."

Andreas argued, but finally got his things together. When he was ready to
go, I said, "Andreas, Aaron once told me if anything ever happened to him,
there was a letter in a locked box for me. Do you know where he kept it? He
seems to have forgotten to tell me."

"I think it might be on a shelf in his closet." Andreas looked in the
closet and called, "Yeah there's a small fireproof box here. You have the
combination?"

"Yeah, it's 9-9-0-8. Open it."

Andreas opened the box and took out an envelope. "This is addressed to you
and says 'In case of my death or becoming comatose'," he said as he handed
me the envelope.

I knew what was in the envelope since I had read it carefully after Aaron
had written it. It simply said, in case of his death, his body was to be
cremated and the ashes scattered off the cliffs overlooking the river in
north Georgia--"Jerry and Andreas know the place". The scattering was to be
private, only the Coghills, myself, Andreas were to be present. It also
said, "Tell Andreas I love him".

"Andreas, get clothes together, we're going." When I got the kid home, Lucy
took charge. The woman had been a wonderful wife for thirty-five years and
a wonderful mother for thirty. Andreas, in his distress, pushed all her
mother buttons. Understandably, Andreas said he wanted nothing to eat, but
Lucy hovered over him, doing motherly things for him. There was no reason
she should do otherwise as she had not been told about Aaron's
assignment. She actually got him to eat a little supper and, as soon as he
had finished, took him to the guest room. "I think you need a long hot
shower," she said, "then get in your pajamas and try to relax".

Andreas was on automatic pilot, which apparently was attuned to Lucy's
frequency. It was obvious he was just going through the motions. After a
long shower, he called me and said, "Ok if I sleep in boxers? That's what I
generally do."

"Sure. Sleep in your birthday suit if you like."

"Don't think Lucy would appreciate that."

"You might be surprised," I countered, and got a faint smile out of the
kid.

The superintendent had given me some sleeping pills for Andreas. "No need
for him to suffer more than he has to," he had said. "See that he gets one
as soon as you think he's needs to go to bed."

It was only 9:00 when I finally got Andreas to take a pill and go to
sleep. When I checked on him before turning in myself, he was asleep, but
his sleep was restless. When I told Lucy about Andreas' statements about
having no reason to go on living, she insisted I sleep in the guest room
with him--in spite of the fact there was no reasonable way he could do away
with himself in there. I slept little, what with worrying about Aaron,
Andreas and being cramped in a twin bed.

When Andreas cried out at five in the morning, I went to him and held him
while he wept. Lucy had heard him and came to the guest room with a glass
of water and another sleeping pill. He took the pill and was soon asleep
again, sleeping until nearly noon.

I was anxious to see Saturday morning's paper to see just how big a story
Aaron's "death" had been. There was almost a half-page story on the front
of the "Home" section. It was made up of several different articles. One
had a picture of Aaron in his uniform and the story of his
"death". Additionally, there was a graduation picture and story about his
years at College Park, a sidebar about his decision to enter police work
because of what crack had done to him. I was surprised. There was also a
separate article about the "felon" he had been chasing when the crash
occurred. It was a story designed to be picked up by the Macon paper, since
the "felon" was supposedly from Macon.

When Andreas got up, Lucy got him to eat something, after which he showered
and dressed. Before he got up, I had called Jerry and told him the news and
of Aaron's request that his ashes be scattered in north Georgia. Jerry
asked about Andreas and I told him he was with me. We talked a long time
about Aaron and just before I hung up he said, "You know Andreas was in
love with Aaron, don't you?".

"Yeah, Aaron told me about prom weekend."

"Did he tell you he was in love with Andreas or hadn't he found out?"

I laughed, "You know he would be the last to know, but I think it had
dawned."

"Let me know what the plans are. We can drive up to mom's place this
afternoon or in the morning."

"I'd like to make it as quick as possible for Andreas' sake."

I got a call from the funeral home mid-afternoon telling me I could pick up
the ashes after 4:00. "And, Mr. Hicks, we will have a selection of urns
from which to choose," the undertaker had said.

"No need. The ashes will go directly to the place where they are to be
scattered."

Andreas was sitting in the kitchen with Lucy. If he needed a mom right now,
he had a good one. She seemed to know just exactly what to do with our son
when he was upset, and she was working that magic on Andreas. "Andreas, you
need to get dressed for a trip to north Georgia. We can pick up the ashes
at 4:00 and we will drive directly to north Georgia. Jerry and Susan are on
their way now."

"I need to go back to the apartment. I only have these"--he stuck out a
foot--"and I will need my hiking shoes."

"Ok, when you are ready."

"I'm ready right now." Andreas gave Lucy a big hug and said, "Thanks,
Lucy. You don't know how much I appreciate what you have done for me."

"Think nothing of it and I expect to see you around here often," she said,
returning his hug.

There was silence in the car as we drove to the apartment. Andreas
disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared dressed for a hike. While we
were there the phone rang. It was the superintendent. "Ralph, I got to
thinking: after all the build-up, we were letting this funeral take too
much of a backseat. The director himself has raked me over the coals about
that--by the way, he doesn't know. He insists on his car taking you and the
boy to north Georgia with police escort. Additionally, each time you cross
a county line, the sheriff will have deputies ready to escort you to the
next county. It will make good copy for the news."

I told Andreas about the escort. I didn't know what he'd think about it,
but he said he thought Aaron deserved at least that.

The chief's car came for us at 4:00 and we went to the funeral home, picked
up the small black plastic box with "cremains", and headed for north
Georgia. The chief's driver had said he would drive as slowly as we wanted,
"out of respect".

"I don't think Aaron would approve of us holding up traffic," Andreas
said. "Let's go to north Georgia." Whereupon the blue lights came on and
the sirens started, a Fulton County deputy leading. We were driving at
maximum safe speed. When we reached Fannin County, the sirens were turned
off and we proceeded with a bit more decorum to the Coghills', arriving at
6:30--a new speed record, I suspect.

Mrs. Coghill met the car and immediately took Andreas in her arms, hugging
him close. We walked inside where Mrs. Coghill had a huge supper waiting.
When Andreas said he wasn't hungry, Mrs. Coghill said she wasn't surprised,
but everyone was expecting him for supper. "You need to be strong,
Andreas."

The psychology worked. Andreas sat down and when Mrs. Coghill had served
his plate, he started picking at his food as the Coghills started telling
tales on Aaron. There was a lot of laughter as friends remembered him. I
wished I had a tape for Aaron. He would have had a blast with it. Andreas
was probably not aware of it, but he was eating, putting away a lot of
food.

When everyone had finished supper, Mrs. Coghill told everyone to go to the
deck, "The evening is nice. I'll bring coffee and dessert." The mood became
very solemn once we were outside. I noticed Andreas had separated himself
from the group as a whole. He refused coffee and dessert when Mrs. Coghill
offered it to him. We had been outside for a short time when I heard a car
drive up. Shortly afterward, a young man walked onto the deck. Andreas
turned and when he saw the young man, he got up and ran to him, saying,
"Edward, Edward, he's dead". Edward took Andreas in his arms and the two
wept. Finally, Edward took Andreas' hand and led him down the steps. I saw
them as they walked along the bank of the stream running behind the
Coghills' house.

I didn't know when Andreas came back. Mrs. Coghill had shown me to a room
about 8:00 and I was in bed shortly afterward, exhausted from the past two
days. I'm not a very religious man, but I sure sent a few up on behalf of
Aaron and Andreas. I had been told by Andreas we would be leaving the house
at 4:30, because he wanted to scatter the ashes at sunrise.

Four came very early and I was half-asleep as we walked in silence through
the forest where there was just enough light for us to make our way to the
cliffs overlooking the river. Andreas stood at the edge of the cliff,
holding the box with the ashes. Edward was standing beside, his arm over
Andreas' shoulders. As the sun rose above the horizon, Andreas opened the
box and scattered the ashes over the cliff's edge. The light from the
rising sun caught the falling ashes, turning them into a stream of red and
gold. "You are missing a grand funeral, Aaron," I thought.

When we returned to the house, Mrs. Coghill finished a grand breakfast and
everyone ate. After breakfast, Andreas asked if we could wait until
afternoon to go back to Atlanta. We were going back with Jerry and he said
he was in no hurry. "Edward and I are going for a hike," Andreas said.
"We'll be back before too late." It was only much later that I learned
Andreas wanted to talk about Aaron and his love for him, and he trusted
Edward to listen and to keep his secret. Andreas told me what he had wanted
after I asked him if he was falling for Edward a couple weeks later, when
Edward came to Atlanta to spend the weekend with him.

When we got back to Atlanta, I insisted Andreas come to my place. "You
don't need to be alone right now. Besides, Lucy will kill me if I didn't
bring you back so she could baby you." I insisted he stay with us the whole
following week. He only went to the apartment to pick up what he needed.
Friday morning at breakfast, Andreas said, "I have been here long
enough. I'll go home after school today. I need to get on with my life." As
he spoke, tears started running down his face. My heart cried for him.

I checked on Andreas every day, either by driving by or phoning. Two weeks
after the "funeral", I asked Andreas if he needed anything. "Ralph, this is
kinda embarrassing, but I am out of money. I guess I should have realized
my freeloading was over but, with everything else going on, I didn't think
about it. Could I borrow some until I can find a job and earn some money?"

"Haven't you been getting a check from the department? I know Aaron
intended to name you as beneficiary of his insurance. I'll check for you
tomorrow. Do you need money tonight?"

"No, I can get by a day or so. Thanks, Ralph. Thanks for everything."

I went straight to the superintendent the next morning. He saw me at once
and was most apologetic about not having taken care of getting money to
Andreas. "Detective Johnson will have our heads if that's not taken care of
now. Since he is 'dead', he is no longer on the payroll. I'm holding the
paperwork on his insurance. He is really on his own in Macon. I'll see that
a weekly check goes to Andreas. In the meantime, I'll get a couple hundred
in cash to him today."

Andreas was staying at the apartment and seemed to be handling his grief
very well. Lucy insisted that he come for dinner at least once a week. I
kept in touch with Ms. Allen. She said Andreas was obviously grieving, but
not in an unhealthy way. "He's doing his grief work very well, I think,"
she told me.

As I mentioned earlier, Edward came down to spend a weekend with Andreas,
and Jerry had taken him to the Coghills' another. The next week, Andreas
told me, Jerry had called and asked about moving in with him. "He said he
and Susan had a long and serious talk and, as much as they loved each
other, it was clear it would never work out. Jerry is living for the day he
can get hired as a Fannin County deputy and move back to the mountains.
Susan had just about had enough the weekend she went to the mountains with
me and Aaron. She was convinced she could never live in the mountains after
a weekend camping trip. She's a city girl and Jerry is a mountain man.
Jerry had moved in with her and let his apartment go, so he is looking for
a place to live and thought it would be a good idea for him to move in with
me. I think it is a good idea as well."

I agreed with Andreas and told Jerry so when I had breakfast with him one
morning. "Ralph, I need to know something. When I got to Andreas' place the
night I moved in, he said he had to get clean sheets for Aaron's bed.
'Sometimes when it gets to be just too much and I can't sleep, I sleep in
his bed--it still smells like Aaron. But I made my bed for you and put
clean sheets on Aaron's bed, but I still want to sleep in it.' Don't you
think that is strange?"

"Didn't you have a security blanket when you were a kid?" I asked him.

"Yeah, but I gave it up before I went to school."

"You gave it up when your life changed. Andreas life changed when you moved
in, so he gave up the security blanket. You've got to remember he had just
confessed his love to Aaron, and had a real hope it was being returned,
when his world was shattered. Anything he can hold on to is ok." Jerry
nodded agreement.

Graduation sneaked up on me. I had to rush around to make sure it was
videotaped, but I did get arrangements made for that. Lucy had insisted on
having a party for Andreas after graduation. Jerry had asked his mom and
Edward to come down for the event, which pleased Andreas to no end, so they
all showed up for a cook-out at our place.

The graduation program listed the scholarships accepted by students. That
was the first time I had known Andreas had accepted an academic scholarship
to Emory. When I asked him about it, he said the doctors thought he could
play basketball as there was no permanent damage they could see. "But I
looked at my chances of ending up in the NBA--frankly, I'm not really
interested in basketball and am somewhat frightened that I might be
permanently injured playing. With those feelings I realized ending up in
the NBA was not likely to happen. Besides, what I really want to do is go
into medicine and Emory is the best place for that."

He had a week between graduation and going to work at the Center for
Disease Control. Edward invited him to come to the mountains for the week
saying they could get in a camping trip and just laze around before both
started their summers. He went and it turned out to be a great week indeed.

When he came back, he threw himself into his internship at the CDC and
Jerry said he thought he was doing great. "But you know, he tells me
sometimes he knows, he just knows, Aaron is not dead. What do I need to do
about that?"

"Nothing, just let him talk about it."

Several weeks after Aaron's death, Jerry told me Andreas woke up in the
night, the first time for a while, and said Aaron was in danger. "He went
out on the balcony and just sat. I think he may need help."

"Give him some time," I advised Jerry. Truth be told, it was kind of
spooky.


>>>>>Aaron<<<<<

I was having a really hard time leaving Andreas thinking I was dead, but
after the chief had briefed me on my way down, I realized it had to be that
way or he really would be left behind when I got a bullet in the head.

I was surprised when we did not drive directly to Macon. Instead, when we
reached Forsythe, the chief started taking back roads until we were in the
middle of nowhere. He had turned down a barely visible trail--it couldn't
be called a road. After we were completely surrounded by trees and vines,
he stopped, we got out and walked about half a mile further down the
trail. There was a beat-up truck in the middle of the road. "That's your
transportation for now," the chief said. "Drive on down this trail for
about a mile and you will find a hunting cabin on the river. That will be
home for the next few days, probably a week. There will be two police
officers waiting for you. They will work with you creating an identity, a
story, and giving you all the information we have. You are not to leave the
cabin until you are ready to become Oscar Carter, your new name.

I found the cabin as promised and was welcomed by two police officers who
looked like anything but. They were narcotics agents who had been
undercover, but now suspected they had been identified. Their names were
Kenyatta and Chandler. "I was named for Joel Chandler Harris," Chandler
said. "Not surprising I get called Uncle Remus," he laughed.

The first thing they did was have me empty my pockets, putting everything
in a bag which they hid in the attic. "Any of that could get you killed,"
Kenyatta said. They took the clothes I'd been wearing and put them in a
garment bag, and it was hidden in the attic as well. I was given jeans and
a shirt to wear. "When you are ready to go into town, we have state-issued
clothing. The story is you are just out of prison on parole. Here are your
papers and your wallet with identification--everything you need including
about twenty dollars. After that's gone, you will be on your own. All your
things will be sent back to Atlanta as soon as you leave here."

I looked at my driver's license and discovered I was, indeed, Oscar Carter.

"Let's have supper and a relaxed evening since it will be the last relaxing
time we have," Chandler said.

Friday morning we were up at eight and had breakfast, then started working
on my identity. I had my "story" down by lunch but, as the two guys said,
only in my rational brain. "You have to get it to the point it is natural
or you'll slip up."

In the afternoon, we started going over files, trying to see some way to
get at the major drug distributor in Macon. "The facts are few and simple,"
Kenyatta said. "We know huge amounts of cocaine are coming into Macon and
are picked up and taken to Atlanta, Columbus and Savannah. We know it comes
from Florida. But how it gets from Florida to here and from here to the
three other cities is a mystery. We also suspect that all the drugs going
to Atlanta do not stop there. At least as much as goes to Columbus is
picked up in Atlanta and taken to Chattanooga. Again, we don't know
how. The money flowing into Macon must be going somewhere, but we don't
know where. Finding out is your job."

"I always did like easy assignments," I smiled.

"Seriously, Oscar, we are stumped and have had no breaks. Frankly, if you
just get out alive it will be a success. To actually break the case will be
a miracle. I am serious, Bro," Kenyatta said.

We broke for supper and, afterwards, sat around talking. I suddenly
realized Chandler had addressed me as Oscar and I had started responding as
such. Supper Friday was the end of Aaron so far as I was concerned.

Saturday we spent learning about my "cellmate". He was from Macon and I had
learned some things from him. For fear someone might contact him, he was
being moved to a high-security prison up north and kept in isolation.
Absolutely no communication was allowed him. "Sounds kinda unfair to him,"
I observed.

"Don't bleed too much for him," Kenyatta said. "He's serving three
consecutive life sentences. He was asked if he'd like to be part of an
experiment with a private cell as a reward. Since things are so crowded in
Georgia prisons, inmates are sleeping on the floor, he jumped at the
chance."

After an hour of intensive study, we would take a fifteen-minute break.
After the break, I'd be quizzed on what I had been told since the first
session. Generally I did well, but when I made a major boo-boo, Chandler
would remark quietly, "You're dead, Oscar". It made an impression.

Sunday, a week later, after lunch the two left me on my own and disappeared
in the bedroom. It was half an hour before they came back. I would not have
recognized either of them, they had so altered their appearance. They
handed me a new outfit which included a baseball cap and dark glasses.
"We're going into Macon and, basically, just drive around so you can put
things with names you know. We'll not get out of the truck. I don't think
anyone will be able to identify us, but we don't want to take any chances."

We drove around Macon for about an hour. The two pointed out places I would
need to know, including a couple places I might get help. I didn't relish
putting up at Union Mission, but I might well have to spend nights there
until I could get on my feet. I'd need a job quickly, but had no idea what
I might do. I had to keep my lack of education, as Oscar, in mind.

Monday and Tuesday continued my education about Macon. Wednesday I was
taken to a back alley in Macon and put on the street. "You're to report to
your parole officer Fridays at ten. He will arrange to be alone when you
show up. Your officer is Jake Halcombe. He's the supervising officer so he
has a private office to protect you. You have the phone number you can call
if you absolutely need help. You don't have it written down do you?"

"No. All I have on me is my wallet, nothing else."

Dressed as a newly released prisoner, I waited until the two had gone
before walking out of the alley. I planned to show up at the Union Mission
later, but first I wanted to just walk around Macon, testing my internal
map against reality.

I showed up at the mission in time to be preached to and prayed over, the
cost of a not-too-bad supper. Tickets for the night shelter were passed out
before we went to supper, but I decided the weather was good enough for me
to sleep outside somewhere.

After supper, a youngish man asked me where I was staying. I told him I was
just out of the "state hotel" and didn't know Macon that well. He invited
me to join him in an abandoned building on the edge of town. There were
five or six other people inside. "Dere be only one other sane person here,"
he told me. "De other four be dumped on the street after dere ninety days
in Milledgeville. Of course, de first thing dey done is throw 'way dere
medication, so de voices is back. I think dey be harmless, but I doan have
nothin' to do with dem."

I slept with one eye open, but nothing happened. In the morning, Simon,
that was the young guy's name, asked if I'd like to do some work. "Pay be
bad, but no strings." I agreed and we went into a residential part of
Macon--large old homes with extensive gardens. We went to a back door where
a maid answered the bell. "Fanny Mae," Simon said when she appeared, "I
sho' de madam need some garden work done, an' yo' be havin' two healthy,
good-lookin' brothers to do it". Fanny Mae laughed and said, "Yo' brothers
might be good-looking, but yo' sho' needs a hot scrubbing to get rid of de
dirt an' stink. When yo' goin' get a real job an' be somebody?"

"Next week for sho' but right now I needs a little pocket change."

"I'll see if Madam be needin' work done. Where yo' pick up dat good-lookin'
dude yo' be having with yo'?"

"Well, Fanny Mae, dis good brother be called Oscar an' he be lookin' for
work after an extended vacation at de state five-star hotel."

"What yo' be in of?"

"Drug dealing. But I be innocent."

"Dat what dey all say," she answered.

Remembering to keep the dialect was harder than I thought. I had worked so
hard for years getting rid of it that using it just felt wrong. Since I
said I wasn't from Macon a slip now and then might be expected, but no
major ones.

Fanny Mae disappeared and came back shortly. "Yo' be in luck. Madam say her
gardener done gone an' slipped under de lawn mower an' ain't gonna be back
fo' weeks. Here de list of what she be wantin' done an' here de key for de
tool shed."

The first item on the list was mowing and edging the lawn. Simon got on the
riding mower and started. I took a weed-eater and started trimming up the
lawn. Simon finished before I did and started edging. At noon, Fanny Mae
brought up plates piled high, and iced tea. We sat in the shade of a huge
oak and ate. After we finished, Simon took the plates back and we lay under
the tree resting. I needed it.

"Know where I might land a regular job?" I asked. "Know it ain't gonna be
easy after my vacation, but I doan take well to street life."

"Doan neither. I got put on de street by my mama after she caught me doin'
weed. Jest been on de street fo' a few days, but knowed most of de street
dudes from ditchin' school. I be workin' in de gardens in dis neighborhood
since I big enough. Jest luck old Washington cut he's foot. Lookin' like a
job jest waitin' to be had. Yo' know, I gonna introduce you around and
maybe de two of us can have a summer job jest workin' gardens."

I didn't know how much investigating I could get done working with Simon,
but right now I needed money. Simon was right: the pay was bad, but better
than I expected and there was no tax as it was all under the table. By the
middle of the next week, we had lined up five places and went on a regular
schedule, a house a day. Any extra meant extra money. We also did pickup
jobs on Saturday. By the end of the second week, I was surprised at how
much I had to tell Jake. Never think your servants don't know all there is
to know about you. I saw the dynamic often. Madam or Mister talked as
though the servant was a piece of furniture.

My second Sunday in Macon, Simon had gone home and asked to come back. His
mama had let him come back home and recommended I take a room with Miss
Janie, an ancient black retired school teacher and matriarch of the black
community.

I went around to Miss Janie's place and asked if she had a room I could
rent. She grilled me up one side and down another. Finally she said, "You
may be on parole from the state of Georgia, but you're on probation with
me. One tiny slip and you are out of here. Understand?" I nodded. "And I
need your first four weeks rent. In advance, now." I had the money and the
rent on the room was practically nothing, particularly when she told me it
included breakfast and supper. I was at her place only a few days when I
realized she took in boarders for company more than the money and was
treating me like a nephew.

I made it through the week ok, thinking of Andreas only a few minutes at
the time. I was busy, working hard at my jobs and trying to find out
something about the drug scene in Macon. So far all I had learned was that
weed was plentiful, but that was not my concern. Sundays were another
matter. I slept late and then had the whole day to think about Andreas.
After one particularly painful Sunday morning, I told Miss Janie I was
going down to the river. "Don't go without a fishing pole," she said, went
in the house and returned with one. "You can dig worms at the edge of the
garden in the mound of dirt, I feed 'em there," she said. I did as she said
and had a can of worms quickly.

I walked up the river a ways, to where the path along the river just
petered out, sat under a large willow and started fishing and thinking
about Andreas. I wondered what he was doing, how he was doing, if he still
missed me, that sort of thing. I had pushed his confession of love for me
in the very back of my mind, but here on a lazy Sunday afternoon with no
sound except the river flowing by, it came back with a rush. I wondered if
I had taken the assignment to avoid facing my feeling for Andreas and the
fact that I might be--was--gay. I thought about that and the beating
Andreas had received because his mom found out he was gay. Most communities
are homophobic, and even the most accepting has its share of bigots, but
the black community takes homophobia to new heights. It always puzzled me
how blacks who were out-and-out racist, hating whites, could align
themselves with skinheads and other white racists, when it came to
homophobia. I guess that was why I had very carefully avoided coming to
terms with my sexuality.

My high school girlfriend had been a good cover, and she was a cover I saw
now. We seldom had sex and it was good... no, it wasn't good. If I was
really honest, she didn't turn me on that much. By the time that would have
become a real problem, her mind was on crack, not me. I was sure dumb. She
had been on crack for a good long while before I found out. I tried to get
her to get help, but she overdosed instead.

Anyway, here I was alone, with nothing to do but sort out my feelings. I
thought back over my time with Andreas. Every minute seemed vivid and
crystal clear and standing outside it, it became equally clear that I loved
the guy, not as a younger brother or friend, although I definitely had
those feelings as well, but as one gay man loves another. Yeah, I was gay
and admitted it, and I was in love and admitted that. When I realized how I
think I would have felt had I thought he was dead, I started crying, huge
tears running down my face. I decided then and there to get busy and see if
I couldn't get back to him soon--before he found someone else.

It was a good thing I had reached a conclusion about myself, because
suddenly the fish started biting and I had a good string when I walked back
to Miss Janie's. She was thrilled with the fish. I had no idea what to do
with them, but she showed me how to gut and filet them in a few smooth
motions. I couldn't do as well as she did, but we did have fish ready for
the frying pan and we both enjoyed the results of my fishing trip--I doubly
so because I had come to grips with who I was.

After supper each evening, I sat with Miss Janie on her front porch as she
commented on the passing traffic. She was a gold mine of information. My
big break came the Sunday evening of my fishing trip. A big, black Cadillac
came down the street slowly and Miss Janie said, "Yeah, drive slow and show
off, now that you're respectable". After the car passed, I asked Miss Janie
who it was.

"That was Sister Rose. She was a small-time dope dealer, just weed, then
suddenly she got religion and, before you could say 'Amen', she was
building her Cathedral of Tomorrow. Millions she's poured into it, millions
I don't know where she gets. She draws a big crowd, that's for sure, what
with three-four gospel choirs, each with its own orchestra of ten-fifteen
people. Each choir has its own big bus and tours all over the place."

"They make tours?"

"Yes, one or more on tour every weekend. Leave Friday and back Sunday night
for the big show at her place. Until a few months ago, she was holding
forth in a warehouse she rented, but the grand opening of the Cathedral of
Tomorrow--which will seat over two thousand--was three-four months ago."

"Who's behind her? Surely she didn't start out with piles of money."

"I'm not sure who all, but I do hear she's connected with that black
undertaker. Funerals have gotten bigger and bigger, but the prices undercut
the white establishments. When somebody dies, the family gets flowers from
the Cathedral of Tomorrow with a letter and booklet, which says something
about sympathy and an offer of their facilities. I understand the new
building has a 'Slumber Room' for funerals. That big-shot lawyer Jason
Stanley Story is also all mixed up in the whole thing. I don't know how
they are all connected, but they are. That black undertaker even sends all
bodies to be funeralized to Atlanta to be fixed up. Says they do a better
job." Suddenly wheels started spinning in my head. Maybe Miss Janie was on
to something without realizing it.

"How'd you like to check out this Cathedral of Tomorrow tonight. We'd at
least hear some good gospel singing."

"We got time? I'll have to change."

"Sure. I suspect we could come and go just about any time."

I'll say one thing for Sister Rose: she sure knew how to put on a show. She
was dressed in a long, slinky gold dress, parading in front of a gospel
choir dressed in red. She was the star and she knew it. The choir was good,
very good, and I could see why they could tour as much as they wanted. Miss
Janie and I stayed for an hour and the show was still going when we
left. As we left, I picked up three or four brochures from a tract rack in
the entrance hall--and it was an entrance hall. It was as large as many
churches, three stories high, with a chandelier at least fifty feet
across. Great sweeping stairs led up to the two balconies and three sets of
massive bronze doors opened onto the main floor. All in all, it was a cross
between an opera house and a high-priced whorehouse. Yes, Sister Rose had
money coming from somewhere.

When I got back to my room, I looked at the brochures. There was one
listing the governing body and I noticed that Jason Stanley Story was
listed as attorney, treasurer and vice president. Sister Rose was president
and executive officer. Willie Brown was secretary and chairman of
arrangements. That was it. There were no other officials. I soon learned
who Willie Brown was, because one of the brochures was "The Cathedrals of
Tomorrow and the Bereaved." He was "that black undertaker" Miss Janie had
talked about. A third brochure listed the activities for the week. There
were the usual services, Bible study--all you would expect in a going
church--but the choir schedule caught my attention. There were four gospel
choirs. One would be at the Cathedral for Wednesday but would be on tour to
Savannah over the weekend. One would be present for Sunday morning
services, one had a week for relaxation and one would be touring to
Columbus. There were two funerals scheduled, one Thursday and one Friday.

I lay back on the bed, an idea forming in my mind. I didn't get far before
Andreas took over my thoughts. I wanted so much to tell him to wait for me,
because I really loved that man. I drifted off to sleep and dreamed of
Andreas, not a nightmare as so many of my dreams had been since I came to
Macon, but a beautiful dream of making sweet love to Andreas who was,
truly, the man of my dreams.

I was careful, but I asked a lot of questions about Sister Rose and the
Cathedral of Tomorrow during the week. I found nothing to either confirm or
deny the idea I was working on in my head. Friday, when I made my report to
Jake, I asked if it was possible to get an audit of the books of the
funeral home, Jason Stanley Story and the Cathedral of Tomorrow. "Also you
need to be ready to audit the tax returns of Story, Sister Rose and the
undertaker," I told him.

"I'm sure we can get an audit done without arousing suspicion, especially
the businesses. What do you expect to find?"

"I'm not sure, but there's an awful lot of money being made off of drugs
I've been told, and no-one knows what happens to it. I just wonder if it's
not being laundered by the church. Something's fishy there. Too much money
too quick."

I also asked him if he could get me price lists from the other three
funeral homes in Macon. "That should be an easy one," he said.

I decided to go back to the church Sunday night. I picked up the weekly
activities brochure. There were no funerals scheduled, but three of the
choirs were touring, again to Columbus, and Savannah and this week one was
going to Atlanta. I picked up another activity sheet entitled "Cathedral
Partners". It reported that three churches had joined with the cathedral
ministries--one each in Columbus, Savannah and Atlanta. "Our gospel choirs
will be supplying music at these new Cathedrals of Tomorrow. The gospel
choirs can always use new voices to help spread our ministry," the sheet
said. It seemed strange to me that the three cities couldn't come up with
gospel choirs of their own.

I decided to check out the Ebony Funeral Home's business. They offered a
"pre-need" policy and I went after work Wednesday to discuss a pre-need
plan. I went for two plans, one the absolute maximum and the other second
best. I guess I should have known, but I was thunderstruck by the cost of
dying, especially if you wanted to go first class.

I took my "pre-need" plan with me when I went to see Jake. "Turned out,
even given the federal regulations requiring funeral homes to provide price
lists, it wasn't as easy as I thought," Jake said as he spread the price
lists on his desk. "There's something rotten in Denmark," he said as he
compared Ebony's prices to the others. "Someone is making a killing, no pun
intended, or someone is going broke. Look at this. On comparable items,
Ebony is 200% below the others." He picked up his phone and told his
secretary to get a casket company on the phone. When she rang him, he got
passed from person to person until he was angry. "Look, I need to know the
cost to an undertaker for three models of your caskets. It is part of a
criminal investigation. Now you can either give me the prices or prepare
for warrants for an audit and search... I thought I was being reasonable.
Just give me the three numbers... Thanks. Well, it seems both statements
are true, someone is making a killing and someone is losing money. Ebony is
selling caskets at cost. There is no way they can be making money. I will
be interested in what an audit shows up."

I went to a Wednesday night service and had a brainstorm. I had a decent
voice, so I volunteered for a gospel choir. Seems you get fitted for a robe
and ready for the bus by Friday night. The choir I was in was scheduled to
go to Savannah, where it was highly unlikely anyone would know me.

I had been in Macon six weeks, as long as I was told I would be and was
still not finished. I wanted to see Andreas and make sure he was ok at
least. At best, I'd like him to kiss me as he did prom night--and then
some.

Friday night I got to the cathedral early and did a little snooping around.
The choir buses--luxury models and more--were out back being loaded. I was
surprised when they came around front for the choir to load because the
baggage area on the opposite side of the buses was being loaded. The
orchestra's instruments were loaded, then the choir's things. We had all
been given identical garment bags and suitcases for our choir robes and
clothes and the luggage compartment wouldn't hold them all. I expected to
be told to take my things to the other side of the bus, but that didn't
happen. They went on top of the bus.

Once we were in Savannah, the buses went to the motel where we were all
staying, two to a room. Our belongings were unloaded and the buses left. I
heard the drivers talking about getting together at a bar as soon as, "we
get the stuff unloaded". The church was several blocks from the motel and I
wanted to see if I could find out what "the stuff" was. I walked around to
the side of the motel and got a taxi in a few minutes and gave him the
address of the church. I got out, paid the driver and walked down an alley
leading to the street behind the church. I was in time to see the last
bags, identical to our suitcases, being unloaded from the side of the bus
not used and taken into the church. I decided I had all the information I
needed except for one more thing. I decided to contact Jake as soon as I
got back to Macon.

We rolled into Macon late Sunday night, and I went straight to Miss Janie's
and hit the sack. I lay there thinking about what I had concluded, and
decided I'd wait a little longer to see if I could find the last piece of
the puzzle. I had a real nightmare and even woke up Miss Janie. I dreamed I
was in a casket, unable to move, and Andreas was standing over me
crying. Miss Janie fixed me a "little toot", good Tennessee sour mash with
lemon and a splash of water. "I keep this for medicinal purposes," she
said. "Better than any sleeping pill, at least more enjoyable." She sat on
the edge of the bed, holding my hand and singing a lullaby. The combination
worked.

Monday, I found a phone booth near where we were working and called Jake.
"Jake, be ready to move," I said. "I think I've got it figured out. Check
something for me. Find out where the casket company has factories. I'll be
in touch."

Monday night I told Miss Janie I was going for a long walk to clear my head
so I'd sleep. I hadn't been around the funeral home, so I thought I'd check
it out. I don't know what I expected to find, and really saw nothing
unusual except there was a tractor-trailer rig parked at the back of the
main building behind a high hedge. The truck and trailer both had Ebony
Funeral Home, Macon, Georgia on them. Why would a funeral home need a
tractor-trailer rig? I had a hunch, but that was all.

Tuesday I had a hard time getting away from Simon. He had been to a big
party Saturday and was still carrying on about it. It was after work when I
finally got to a public phone and called Jake at home. "What did you find
out?" I asked.

"Ebony buys from two companies, remember? Both have plants in the southeast
as you might expect. One has them in Tennessee, Alabama and Florida. The
other has plants in Georgia and Florida. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Yeah. Don't know how you can do it, but I need to know where the caskets
Ebony uses comes from."

"I'll see what I can do," he replied.

When I got back, Miss Janie was sitting on the porch. It was still hot and
her house was not air-conditioned. I pulled up a rocker and sat beside
her. "Miss Janie, thanks for Sunday night. I really had a nightmare and a
half."

"Surprised you haven't had more after being in prison. Is prison as bad as
people say?"

"Worse. It's hard to talk about. There are all sorts of bad things going
on, but not being able to go and come as you please is punishment enough.
'Course, it wouldn't be as bad except every con looks out for himself and
has no care for anybody else. Yeah, it was really bad."

We rocked in silence for a while, then she said, "Oscar, for some reason I
just can't see you in prison. No sir, you just don't act like a former
con. Don't know why but, somehow or other, it just don't fit."

I made no response, but took that as a warning. I had been around her and
Simon long enough to relax a little, a little too much, I suspected. I had
better watch it.

I had a real stroke of luck Wednesday. One of our regulars had asked Simon
if he could do some work for a friend of hers. "After hours, of course."
Simon agreed and we went to her place, after we finished our regular work,
and worked until it was almost dark. It was only slightly out of my way, so
I went by Ebony. I saw the tractor-trailer pulled up to the back of the
funeral home and caskets being unloaded. I kept moving closer, trying to
see what was going on. I accidentally kicked a soda can, making a loud
noise. The guys unloading the trailer dropped the casket they were carrying
and started running toward me. One of them definitely had a gun out. I
quickly hid in some bushes. I was hoping they would just look around and go
back to work, but there was another noise right beside me. The fellow with
the gun shot, hitting me in the shoulder. I was prepared for him to find me
and finish his job, but I was saved by a huge orange tomcat. He had made
the noise and when the guy shot, the cat let out a yowl and headed straight
for for him. He took a couple shots at the cat as it ran away. "You be
shootin' a mutherfuckin' cat, shithead." The four guys picked up the casket
and started carrying it into the funeral home.

As soon as they were inside, I got up and started running. At the next
block, I hid in some bushes to see if I could stop the bleeding from my
wound. I was losing a lot of blood and I knew it. I was six or seven blocks
from Miss Janie's, an easy walk under ordinary circumstances, but I could
feel myself growing weaker. I tore strips from my T shirt and took the rest
of it and made a compress. I couldn't do much with just my right hand, but
I did get the strips tied, I hoped tight enough to stop the bleeding.

I didn't want to be found walking down the street, so I cut across
backyards. As I cut across one, I realized I had made a mistake as a huge
dog started barking. Fortunately he was tied up, but he did alarm the
neighborhood. I finally realized I was going to pass out soon if I didn't
get help. I decided I'd take a chance and take the most direct route to
Miss Janie's. I was only a block away when I started having little
blackouts. When I did, I'd wake up lying in the street. I started thinking
about Andreas. "Man, if you don't get moving, you'll never make it and
he'll never know. You'll never get that kiss you want so bad. Andreas, I
need you, man. I need your help." I was going on blind will when I turned
into the gate of Miss Janie's. I collapsed, not knowing whether I had made
it or not.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. I could see a maze of wires and
tubes, but little else. "You ok, Oscar?" It was Miss Janie's voice.

"I think so. I mean I'm not ok, but better than I expected."

"I didn't know what to do other than call the EMS. You walked up on the
porch and promptly fell down. Son, you came very close to meeting your
Maker. The police are outside, waiting to question you when you are
conscious."

"Miss Janie, this is very important. I can't speak to them yet. I want you
to call someone for me." I gave her Jake's home phone number. "Ask for Jake
and tell him what happened. Tell him he needs to get here at once and to be
ready to jump. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure. I'll tell the policeman you are still out."

"Ask the nurse to talk to Jake. He can tell her how to handle the police.
But we are running out of time. Thanks a million, Miss Janie."

"You gonna tell me what this is all about?"

"You will be among the first to know."

Miss Janie left and I closed my eyes. Jake had to get here before the
police started poking around.

The nurse came in shortly after Miss Janie had left. "I talked with Jake
and you'll not be bothered by the officer outside."

"How am I doing?"

"You had a close call, but the wound was clean and damaged nothing serious.
Once we got some blood in you, you started coming around. I'll send Miss
Janie back in if you like."

"Please do."

Miss Janie came back into the room and took a seat by the bed. I closed my
eyes and I guess dozed off because the next thing I knew, Jake and the
Chief of Police came into the room. "You didn't have to get yourself
wounded," Jake said. "But it is a good undercover trick."

"Yeah, good planning," I answered.

"Ok, we've got the troops ready. What do we do?"

"Do you have search warrants for the church and funeral home?"

"Sure do."

"I don't know where things are hidden, but I am positive I know how the
whole system works. Seeing the truck being unloaded tonight should mean you
are going to find all the evidence you need."

"The Cathedral of Tomorrow handles most of the transportation of the
drugs. They purchase caskets directly from the manufacturer in Florida.
That was the missing link. There are closer casket manufacturers, but Ebony
goes to Florida. Ask yourself why. How many law enforcement officers are
going to stop and search a truck loaded with caskets? Once they got the
drugs here, they used a couple ways of shipping them to Atlanta, Savannah
and Columbus. The choirs are a perfect cover. The luggage compartment on
one side of the bus is loaded with drugs in suitcases identical to those
provided to choir members. Should the bus be stopped and searched, the
driver opens the side with luggage. If any of the suitcases are opened,
they contain what is expected. If the second side is opened, who is going
to open the suitcases identical to those just checked?"

"Atlanta could handle more drugs than Savannah or Columbus so more than the
choir bus is often needed. That's the reason Ebony started sending bodies
to Atlanta. An unmarked van took the bodies to an Atlanta embalming
concern. A hearse followed with a shipping casket, but it was filled with
drugs. Again, who's going to stop a hearse? After the body was embalmed, it
was placed in the hearse and returned to Macon. It was a clever scheme.
What really cinched it for me were those bargain basement prices for an
uptown funeral."

"And Chattanooga?" the chief asked.

"An eighteen wheeler can transport an awful lot of dope. And there is a
casket company there. Bet that's another place where caskets get
purchased."

"Good job, Aaron, very good job. At this very moment the church and the
funeral home are being searched. Sister Rose, Jason Stanley Story and
Willie Brown, along with drivers of the buses and the tractor-trailer
driver, have all been picked up and are in jail. Now all you have to do is
just take care of yourself. We'll come back when the fun is over."

As soon as the two had gone, Miss Janie said, "I told you you didn't act
like a convict. Now you want to tell Miss Janie what this is all about."

I told Miss Janie the whole story, but I didn't mention Andreas. I knew
Miss Janie well enough to know she would not be sympathetic.

The chief came by Thursday and told me the superintendent was coming down
Friday morning. That afternoon, the doctor told me I could go back to
Atlanta Friday if I would get my wound checked out, "at Grady where they
know about gunshot wounds," if I wanted to. They were not breaking the
story until Friday since there was just too much evidence to be taken care
of.

Friday morning the chief and superintendent came in the room. "Damn good
job, Aaron," the superintendent said, "damn good job".

"Yeah, we are still discovering things. Late last night we got a blueprint
of the Cathedral of Tomorrow and found a bunker-type room in the basement
stacked full of cocaine. There was a safe in the room as well. Aaron, there
was four million, that's f-o-u-r, four million, in bills in it. Too bad you
aren't a private citizen. If you weren't working as a police officer, you'd
stand to get 10% of the money and all other assets. A cool four hundred
thousand for starters," the chief said with a smile.

"Whoa," the superintendent said. "All this was done by Aaron under an
assumed name, but that was not the extent of the identity switch. We got
worried and actually had Aaron declared dead. In order to give his ward
money, I gave him money out of my discretionary fund, not from Aaron's
salary or insurance. It's funny, but legally Aaron was functioning as a
private citizen. He got no money from my department or yours. He worked for
a living. I think you could save us all a lot of time and effort by just
giving Aaron the reward."

"You are one clever devil, Superintendent. Lucky this is a small town and
can work things out without a whole lot of red tape. I'll get a judge to
rule on this as quickly as possible."

"Chief, I didn't expect anything except my salary, but I'll take whatever
comes my way. If there is enough, Miss Janie's house is to be insulated, a
new furnace and air conditioning installed."

"I'll see that is done," the chief said.

"Also, set up a fund to pay Simon to go back to school. He's to get a
couple hundred a week, so long as he is in school and passing."

"I'll take care of that as well," the chief said.

"Then I am out of here!"

I had thought about calling Andreas, but that was more shock than he
needed. The superintendent told me he had called Ralph about the wrap-up of
the Macon drug business. "He said Jerry had the weekend off and he and
Andreas were going to north Georgia. He thought they were planning on going
camping."

I didn't know the best way to approach Andreas. I did know one thing: I
loved him, no question about that, absolutely no question.

I was surprised how beat I was when we got back to Atlanta. The
superintendent took me by Grady to get my wound checked out. It was doing
fine, but I was given some more pain pills since I was in considerable
pain.

Ralph was waiting for me at the apartment. He gave me a big hug, poured me
a beer. I had to decide whether to have a beer or a pain pill. The beer won
hands down. "I guess you need to be brought up to date since you have been
gone six weeks"--remember the Macon business would take only a few weeks.
He told me Jerry had been living with Andreas. "I was really glad he moved
in. Andreas was talking suicide for a while. I thought Andreas was falling
for Edward and worried about how he and you would handle that when you came
back, but I was definitely off base. Edward has been a strong arm for him
to lean on, but that's it." Ralph talked a while longer then, asked, "What
are you going to do?".

"I don't know. I know what I'd like to do. I'd like to go straight to north
Georgia and make mad, passionate love to that beautiful man."

"How about me calling Jerry--he gave me his cell phone number--and telling
him to hold off going camping, and you go up and get resurrected at the
Coghills? Think anything else would be too traumatic for the whole bunch."

"You do the calling, I'm on my way--that is if I have transportation." The
Jeep was in my slot, and in minutes I had thrown things in a bag and was on
my way to be united with my love.

I felt as if I was driving in cold molasses. I finally set my cruise
control because without it, my speed crept up until I was speeding big
time. I left Atlanta at 5:00 and walked into the Coghills at 7:30, really
good time in light of my leaving at rush hour on Friday. When I walked in,
the Coghills were all sitting on the deck. I learned later Ralph had called
and said they needed to be together at 7:00-7:30 to share in an important
event. They all had their backs to me except Edward, who was leaning
against the banister of the deck. I put my finger to my lips as he started
to speak. He didn't speak, but the smile on his face was a dead give-away
something was up. I stood still and said softly, "Andreas Jackson, I love
you, man, I love you".

Andreas stood slowly and then turned to face me. His mouth fell open and he
turned pale and his knees started buckling. In two steps I had my arms
around him. He had fainted. I eased him into a chair, put his head between
his knees and started bathing his face with a cold cloth Edward brought
me. Gradually Andreas came around. When he did, he said nothing. His hands
started tracking my features. I took his hands into mine and kissed his
palms. Finally he whispered, "Aaron, is this real? Are you really here?
Alive? God, tell me I'm not dreaming again. Please, tell me you are real!"

I lifted Andreas to his feet and answered with a smile as I said, "Andreas,
there is no-one in the world more real, more alive, than I am right
now". My arms were around him as I raised my face to his and pressed my
lips to his in a passionate kiss. Suddenly he was devouring me with
kisses. He put his arms around me and hugged me tight. I couldn't help
crying out in pain and, when I did, he released me, looked at my bandaged
shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, Aaron".

"Don't be, it means this is not a dream." Edward brought me a chair and I
sat down and Andreas sat in my lap, his arms around me. He kept kissing me
and I kept reassuring him that I was real.

He finally just sat on my lap and with that shy smile of his said, "Aaron,
you have a lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah, I sure do."

"Jerry, why didn't you tell me Aaron was alive. You must have known."

"No, he didn't know, Andreas. Only Ralph and the Superintendent of
Detectives in Atlanta and the Chief of Police in Macon knew."

Mrs. Coghill brought me a cup of coffee and asked if I had eaten. I told
her I hadn't. "I wanted only one thing, that's to be where I am with who
I'm with."

"You wanted to be with at least one of us," she laughed. "Your story can
wait until you have eaten." When I finished the food, she brought me
another cup of coffee and I told everyone the whole story. "I know it has
been hard on everyone who cared anything about me but, in the end, I know
that it was best. Had I ever been identified, I would be a dead man sure
enough."

After a lot of questions, I was just about talked out. "That's it. I may be
coming into money because technically I was a private citizen in Macon,
then again I may not. If I don't, I guess I'll get back pay at least. But
that's not important right now."

"Aaron, the tent is all set up and everything, ready for overnight camping.
If you hurry, you can make it to the camp site while there is enough light.
I think Edward and I will spend the night here and leave the camp to you
and Andreas," Jerry said.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked Andreas.

Andreas hopped off my lap, grabbed my hand and we went down the stairs from
the deck. We walked along the stream until it joined the trail to the
cliffs above the river. I doubted we would reach the tent before it was
pitch-black dark unless I could get Andreas under control as our progress
was slowed as, again and again, he stopped us for a passionate kiss. After
one passionate, tongue-in-the-mouth, kiss I said, "You keep that up and
we'll never reach the camp site."

Andreas laughed, a laugh that made me catch my breath, and said, "I haven't
noticed you resisting!" He gave me another quick kiss and, hand-in-hand, we
walked up the increasingly steep trail, finally reaching the camp site.

The tent was set well back from the cliff edge. A fire had been laid in a
fire pit in front of the tent, waiting to be started. Andreas put a match
to the tinder and soon there was a small, glowing fire, its flames making
our shadows dance around the camp.

Andreas took a sleeping bag from the tent, folded it and spread it by the
fire and motioned for me to sit down. When I did, he straddled my legs, his
butt on the sleeping bag, his legs around my waist.

"Andreas, I know I can never make up for the pain you suffered believing I
was dead. I thought about that a long time before I took the assignment.
I'll confess that if I had known what I now know about myself and my love
for you, I don't think I could have done it. I guess I can say that in the
time I was gone, I accomplished what I hoped to accomplish with my whole
life. I have to think that way, believing I saved an awful lot of people
from dying of drugs."

"But, right now, what is more important is the time I was away from you I
learned something, accepted something. I'm still not sure whether I am gay
or not... that's not true, I am very sure at least part of me, a major
part, is gay. But that really doesn't matter. What really matters is that
gay or straight, I love you more than life itself. I don't know what the
future holds, but I do know if it doesn't hold you, us together, then I
just as well should have stayed dead."

Andreas was silent for what seemed a very long time, his head resting on my
shoulder. "Aaron, I told Ralph I had nothing to live for when I was told
you were dead. I meant that. I don't think I would have done myself in, but
I think I would have been a walking dead man. I think the only thing that
kept me going was remembering that prom night kiss. I guess I saw in it a
lot more than you ever admitted."

"Andreas, you felt like you were made to be held in my arms when we danced.
Our kiss felt exactly right. I never doubted that."

"I have, recently, thought I needed to see someone because the longer you
were away, the more I believed you weren't dead, the exact opposite of what
I thought I should be thinking. One Sunday afternoon I was sitting on the
balcony, half asleep, when as clear as anything, I heard your voice say,
"Andreas, I never told you I loved you, so I am telling you now."

"Andreas Jackson, I love you with every breath I take. I am breathing
because of you. I didn't tell anyone because they would come up with why it
wasn't real, but I knew it was real."

"Then, two nights ago, I knew you were in trouble. I was panicking. Jerry
didn't know what to do. I mean he would wake me up when I had a nightmare,
but I was wide awake and panicking. Finally I went out on the balcony and
tried to give you my strength, then suddenly I knew everything was ok with
you."

"Andreas, I knew I was dying from loss of blood and I really needed help
then, suddenly, I had the willpower to go on, blindly and finally
unconsciously. There is no question in my mind you saved my life."

Andreas laughed, kissed me and said, "Old African custom, Aaron, I saved
your life now you belong to me!"

"Yassa, sir Massa, what you want this black boy to do?"

"You don't be no black boy, yo' my man!" Andreas laughed and leaned forward
to kiss me. Playfully, I started leaning away from him. I finally fell over
backwards, Andreas was immediately on top of me. "I got you where I want
you," he said, "You are under my power!".

"Well, at least I am under you."

"Now I'm going to have my way with you!" Andreas started kissing me, long,
deep, hard. Then he started grinding his hips into mine, pressing our hard
cocks between us. I reached up and slipped his shirt over his head. He
unbuttoned my shirt and, when my chest was exposed, suddenly stopped
playing.  He was staring at the bandage on my shoulder. Huge tears formed
in his eyes and then he started crying in earnest, crying in great
body-shaking sobs.

I was confused. "Andreas, Babe, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't answer he was crying so hard, his face buried
in my chest, his hands clutching my shirt. I didn't know what to do other
than what I was doing, holding Andreas tight and saying over and over,
"Andreas, it's all right, everything's all right. It's all right, babe."

It seemed hours before Andreas regained control of himself, but I suspect
it was just a few minutes. When he did, he started kissing me madly,
wildly, my mouth, my eyes, my neck, my chest. When he kissed a nipple I
felt as though an electric charge shot through my body.

Andreas eventually calmed down enough for me to ask again, "Andreas, Babe,
what's wrong?".

"Aaron, so many, many times I have dreamed you were alive, holding me in
your arms, that I was kinda holding my breath, hoping the dream would
last. Then, when I saw your shoulder, I finally, completely, really knew
you were alive and here and real and... and..." Andreas was talking so fast
he finally just ran out of words. "Aaron, Aaron, you are real and alive and
I'm with you and you said you loved me and you kissed me and... and..." He
again ran out of words and I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.

I was laughing at my Andreas, MY Andreas, because I was so happy: I loved
him and he loved me and, yes, because I was alive and here and real.

Andreas was all out of breath and just lay his head on my chest, his arms
beside me. "I know you are alive and real, Aaron, because I hear your
heart."

"So you hear it calling your name?" I asked, "Because it is, it is calling
the name of the man I love."

"It's saying Aa-ron An-dreas over and over."

He lay still, listening to my heart call our names and then raised his
head, smiled his double-dimple smile and raised up and kissed my chin. "I
think I started a job I didn't finish," he said as he rolled off my body
and said, "Raise up". I did, and he removed my shirt, put his arms around
me and kissed me on the mouth, then my eyes, my neck and, again, a nipple.

"You know, you know more about what comes next..."

"We both do!" Andreas giggled. "We both do!"

I was glad the fire had burned low, otherwise Andreas would have seen me
blush. At least I thought I was safe until he laughed, "Aaron Johnson, you
big bad policeman! You're blushing!"

From the way my face felt, I suspect he could have seen me blush in the
pitch-black dark. I was finally able to say, "You're the one with all the
magazines, so I guess you're the expert".

"You're the one with experience," he laughed and started tickling my ribs.

"Well, Mr. Know-it-all, in the first place she didn't turn me on the way
you do and, in case you hadn't seen those OTHER magazines, she was put
together differently."

"Hey, and Vive la diference, right?"

"RIGHT!"

"I happen to know you saw me naked as a jaybird the first time we were
here."

"I didn't!"

"Oh, yes you did! You gotta know bedrooms are like eighteen wheelers, 'If
you can see my mirrors, I can see you!' I saw you sneaking a peek. Why did
you think it took me so long to crawl into a pair of boxers? It took just
long enough to show you what you had won--and to get you good and hard!"

"You don't play fair, Andreas."

"ALL'S fair in love and war, and this is both--I love you and I'm going to
fight to get your clothes off!"

"No need, I surrender."

Andreas reached out for my left hand, but I pulled it back and offered my
right one. He pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me, taking
care not to hurt the shoulder. While his lips, mouth and tongue kept me
occupied, his hands worked on my jeans and soon they slid down my legs. As
I stepped out of them, his thumbs in the waistband of my briefs released my
hard, precum-streaming cock.

I wasn't quite as smooth in undressing my chocolate man. My left hand and
arm were hampered by a bullet wound, but that was ok. That wound convinced
Andreas I was alive and real and reminded me that, somehow or other, he was
responsible for that, for my not taking advantage of my "pre-need plan" at
Ebony Funeral Home.

Andreas placed his hands on my shoulders--it was one of those times when it
was easy to see why he was a basketball star as he stood four inches above
my six-foot body, touching me with long beautiful fingers, hands and
fingers which made mine look tiny. We stood, drinking in each other's body,
both at full attention, ready for action. As I looked into his face, the
moonlight caught the scar on his left cheek. It was not pretty, not sexy,
it was a sign of what it had cost him to come to this moment. I owed him
for that and for the pain he had suffered while I was gone. "But," I
thought, "you have a lifetime to repay him."

Andreas kissed me, softly, gently, picked me up and laid me on the sleeping
bag by the fire. We were both amateurs, but we did make love and it was
perfect. After we were exhausted by it, we lay, facing each other, arms
resting on our lover. "We are definitely amateurs at this," I smiled at
Andreas.

"Yeah, but it ain't basketball, Bro. In this game, it's the practice I'm
going to enjoy."

North Georgia nights can get pretty cool, even in the summer. I woke up in
the night, cold. Andreas must have been as well, as he was as close to me
as possible. I looked at him in the dim light of the moon and wondered what
I had done in some other life to have this man love me. I kissed his cheek
softly and covered the two of us.

The sunrise was spectacular, almost as spectacular as the feeling I had
when Andreas and I greeted it by making love.

"Aaron, it's beautiful," Andreas said. "And it's special because it is
our--ours together--first sunrise, a new day, a new life." I could only
agree.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
*MARTA==Metro Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority (I think). It is Atlanta's
rapid rail part of the public transit system.

**"Deliverance": novel by James Dickey set in north Georgia mountains. The
major characters are city boys, most of whom suffer at the hands of north
Georgia rednecks, including a homosexual rape. All of the characters except
one die during the weekend outing. Made into a movie with Burt Reynolds.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A note will be appreciated: sequoyah@charter.net