Date: Sat, 5 Oct 2013 09:44:19 -0400
From: andywasputz@hotmail.ca
Subject: A TALE OF SEVEN - CHAPTER FIVE - HAPPINESS and FAMILIES

Warning:  The usual disclaimers apply here.  If you don't like any of the
following, leave now:  gay sex, vulgar or harsh language or underage
wherever you are reading this.

This is pure fiction. No one in this story is a real person, living or
deceased. Please do not copy without my consent.

I used 'Rooming With My Best Friend" as a starting point, with the author's
consent.

You will see little references throughout this storyline.

Feel free to read Wasputz's story under the appropriate section

Additional Note: Please donate to Nifty! The Archive is to be thanked for
hosting so many stories over the years and providing a venue for our works.

I will point out this story takes place in United States and Canada, and it
separate tales with different people in each storyline; however, all these
Storylines will come together in the final chapter..

I encourage you to look for connections between the stories, and references
to 'Rooming'


I hope you enjoy this fifth chapter....  I look forward to hearing from
you. Please email me your comments, questions, critics, as I look forward
to hearing from you.

andywasputz@hotmail.ca

***********************

CHAPTER FIVE – HAPPINESS AND FAMILIES

RON and ALTON – PHILADELPHIA - MARCH 2013

"You're right, I have been passionate about my writing I just forgot about
it."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

The response shocked Alton. "I'm not going to talk about this now. We're
going to talk about you. We've been putting this conversation off for weeks
now."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alton lied. Of course he knew. He
just never had the guts, strength or courage to admit it to his boyfriend.

"Come on, you're bringing in a new guy to your restaurant. Nick wanted you
to personally groom him. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what's
going on here."

Alton decided to play dumb a little longer. "Nick wants me to groom someone
because as the owner he doesn't have to time to nurture someone from
scratch."

Ron shook his head, "Al, you really aren't good at this. Firstly, when Nick
hired you he not only made sure you knew what you were doing he mentored
you for the first few months, and secondly, the obvious question, if Nick
is looking for a new person to step up why isn't he grooming you for that
position?"

Alton knew he was beat, however Ron wasn't right about a few details. "You
are aware the position Trevor is being placed in is the assistant
management position, not my role?"

Ron shot back faster, as if anticipating the response, "You didn't need an
assistant manager before, why would you need one now? Al, level with me."
Ron then did something that always worked on Al; the puppy dog eyes.

"That's not going to work this time. I'd like to know how we turned this on
me and away from your work situation," Ron just stared, the puppy eyes were
winning.  After a full minute Alton relented and spoke.  "Okay, the
truth... for the last year and a bit I've not been happy with my job, I
really don't know why. Nothing much has changed, the customers and the
staff are as chipper and nice and as always and it isn't painful to go to
work and put on a fake smile, but little by little my mind and heart
stopped being in the position. One day one of our regulars called me over
to his table and actually asked if I was okay. "

Ronnie listened. He was so wrapped up with his own professional worries to
even sense this was happening.  How could a regular customer see him like
that and he couldn't? "Go on."

"Well, I told him I was fine, that it was just one of those days. He smiled
and told me he understood. Some time passed and I asked Nick if we could
fire an assistant to take some of my load. You see, Nick suspected I took
on too much to begin with and agreed. Then we found Trevor with
understanding between me and Nick that in time he would be my replacement."

"I don't understand any of this!"  Ron yelled. It was a good thing the bar
wasn't as busy as it was most nights or that scream would have given them
unwanted attention. "How can you not tell me about this? How can you not
tell me you want to quit your job? For one thing that would cause problems
at home with out finances, but more importantly, we have no secrets, in the
five years..."

"Six years," Alton corrected.

"Don't correct me when I'm angry and you. If this was going on for more
than a year how come you kept it from me?"

"Because I didn't want to fucking worry you, okay?"

"It's my job to worry about the people I love."

"Fuck, Ron... you were in your own little world becoming the next big
marketing chief that you couldn't see me."

"That's bullshit!" Ron fired back. "I see you every day."

"Then how come you didn't notice I was unhappy? You were so wrapped up you
own stupid world..."

Ron wanted to say something, to think of one counterargument, but he
couldn't. The silence spoke volumes and in that span of time Alton Fenton
left his lover and drove home. Ron didn't know what to do but he knew Alton
was right.

Later, he entered their apartment with his hands full. On the couch in his
boxers with his shirt open staring at the television screen was
Alton. Noticing his entrance, he asked, "Are those for me?"

Ron held out the chocolates, one in each hand. They were both Alton's
favourites. That did it. Alton instantly melted.  "Love, I am so
sorry. This is all my fault. I should have registered your mood more. We
live together."

"Nah, I shouldn't have blown up at you. The moment I got home I felt bad
for leaving you there and for what I said. I knew you were concerned about
your own issues too. "

"Oh good," Ron said, putting a smile on his face, "Then gimme back the
chocolates."

Alton already took the package and was opening them. Alton laughed, "No
way, get your own." Ron sat on the couch and gave Alton his kiss. Alton
knew it was his make up kiss. "We were both wrapped up in our own problem
that we couldn't see past them.  We should have talked about this before."

"Well let's talk now." Ron suggested. "Why aren't you happy with your
position at the restaurant?"

"I don't know. That's the thing. It started almost a year ago, just when we
got back from our anniversary vacation."

"Well, think back. What did we do?"

"We went to New York and stayed at that fantastic hotel that had the most
amazing food and then we saw some brilliant shows. We dined at the most
fabulous restaurants."  The way Alton spoke brought so much brightness into
his face, "We spent New Years Eve on the roof of the hotel. We used one of
my connections to get that access. Watching the ball drop, taking in the
sights and smells, it was amazing."

"Yeah, it cost us a fortune if I recall. The sex that night was something I
remember too." Ron stopped to remember the passion Alton had that night,
four times in a row.  He looked at Alton, "Then we came back here. What
happened?"

"I don't know, I thought about our trip a lot."

"Yeah, you wouldn't shut up about the food this, the food that, and the
people at the hotel being so nice and so great. You loved the experience of
New York."

It hit him like a ton of bricks. "Since then I compared that experience to
our home life and living in `Philly' can't compare. We don't even live in
the big city, we live in the sticks. The restaurant being Philly's Best
Pizza... it may be the best, but it doesn't compare New York food. I keep
staring at the dishes night after night and it's boring. They taste good
and all but I want more. The sad thing is with our finances we can't afford
New York quality fare. And then the entertainment here is not exactly the
best.

Ron let him go on talking about how New York was so much better than their
city. Being a born and raised Philidelphian it was hard not to
disagree. They had Philly Cheesesteak, not to mention some of the best beer
and some great sights to see. That being said, he had to agree on
something. "Honey, that's why New York City is destination spot, they have
great things, but so does Philly."

Alton didn't listen, he just stated: "I know what we should do."



JOSH – MONTREAL - OCTOBER 2012



Josh had been spending the five hours in the car thinking of nothing other
than his grandfather's past. He wanted to know more about his early
life. Why did he leave New York? If he had such a great life there why
would he leave it? The answer was standing right in front of him but his
mind couldn't see it. His mother mentioned when he left, but even she
wasn't aware of his true reasons for leaving. He and his two sisters spent
the drive thinking of more creative reasons to abandon that lifestyle.

That night he and his sisters couldn't sleep. Rebecca and he just shared
some milk in kitchen, thinking about his their grandfather. It was almost
midnight when it hit him.

"I can't believe it," Josh stated, a tear in his eye. "Zaidy is really
gone."

Rebecca put an arm around him, "Yep, and regardless of what mysterious life
he led, two things are important now. One, he loved you, me and your sister
a lot."

That put a small smile on his face, "What's the other sis?"

"We loved him just as much, and he will be missed."

With that statement Rebecca cried. Being the good brother Josh rapped an
arm around her and walked her to the bedroom where she would spend the
night. "Becky, I love you too."

"Back at you little bro."

The next morning was the day of the funeral and Josh was waiting with his
family inside as the limousines were coming down the block to take the
immediate family to the synagogue. Becky and Helena were holding hands
while his Mom was comforting his Dad who was unusually quiet thus
far. Josh's father, mother, grandmother and sisters entered one limousine
with him, while Zaidy's brother and family got in the second limo.

During the drive nobody spoke. It was an eerie silence. On a good day
Josh's family were loud and were always trying to discuss something or
argue about something. When they didn't win the argument they just
responded by saying the same thing louder. Never was there silence for long
periods of time. It was something that was unheard of in the Turner
family. Josh's bubby, Yvette, normally the most talkative in family, was
sitting quietly in black slacks and leather coat, thinking of better times.

Josh did the only thing that he could think of. He placed his arms around
her and held her. She appreciated the gesture. His mom and sisters were
looking out the window while Becky smiled at him slightly, as if giving him
her approval for the action.

As the limo pulled up his dad stopped me. "Son, I need a favour from you."

"Yeah?" noting by the tone that it was a serious suggestion. "I need you to
look after Bubby. Stay with her the entire time. She'll need her only
grandson by her side."

"Of course," Josh replied. With that his dad move to walk on but Josh
grabbed him by the arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he paused, "Thank you, son."

They were greeted by the staff and ushered into the room for the
viewing. Josh and his father donned a kippah, the traditional religious
headgear. The women wore a kind of a doily clipped to their hair. There was
a traditional name for it but Josh couldn't recall it. As they all entered
the room the chatter picked up, but mostly it was basic normal
chitchat. The two staff members came in with scissors. They gathered the
immediate family and the cutting of ties began. First was Josh's
grandfather's brother, followed by his father. It was symbolic. Something
about rending or tearing ones clothes at the knowledge of the passing,
although the funeral director normally supplied ties so the family wouldn't
use there own, the family thought their own needed to be cut. Josh also
asked for the traditional cutting, even though it was reserved for the
children and siblings of the deceased.

The lead staffer then asked Bubby if she would like the see the body. Josh
had never seen a dead body before and from his knowledge neither had his
sisters. She nodded and Josh moved with her, holding her as they moved
toward the casket at the far end of the room. The staffer nodded to the
other people and the casket was opened at the top. Josh stared at his
Connor Turner, his grandfather, his Zaidy's lifeless body.

It was a sight he would never forget. It was said that when a person dies
something, be it a soul or essences of life forces, leaves the body. That
is what Josh saw, a shell of the man he loved. He felt like he was staring
at a wax figure of his grandfather. Bubby said something, "That's not him."

The statement threw Josh off, but then he realized what she meant was that
the man she loved was gone. His dad then motioned with his hand to close it
up again. Josh was relieved that Jewish customs forbid the casket to be
open.

What next occurred could be conservatively described as organized
chaos. Slews of people entered the door, most of them family, cousins,
uncles and aunts, along with other relatives, friends and neighbours. At
most there was a room of ninety people. It was hard for Josh to keep track
of his grandmother as he continued to talk to friends. At some point the
funeral director shushed everyone and asked if only family and immediately
family remained. That brought some laughter to the room.

Bubby was talking to dear friends and Josh kept her in sight as another two
people caught his attention. Two guys in black suits were holding
hands. They both looked unhappy and kept to themselves. He knew he had seen
them before, however, seeing his Zaidy kept his brain too busy to
acknowledge them.

 "Ladies and gentlemen the service will begin shortly, kindly make your way
inside."

****

MICHAEL and PATRICK – TORONTO – NOVEMBER, 2012



Michael was sitting in the car on the way to Pat's cousin's wedding. He
really wasn't in the mood to go though. He still couldn't get the last few
days out of his mind. They had gone down to New York City on a whim to
check on his uncle's building that belonged to him now. They were just
about to go down to the bottom floor when a man they didn't know was
staring back at them.

"Hello," the man said, "Can I help you?"

Patrick, a little defensively, said, "Who are you? What are you doing
here?"

"The name's Joe Renard", the old man said. The guy had to be in his late
fifties. "As for what I'm doing here, I live here. This place became
vacated nearly six months ago and I took up residence."

"Oh," Patrick understandably said, "You're a squatter?"

"No, I'm living within my means. You see when this place closed down I was
out of a job, so I stayed."

"I see, well," Mike responded, "this place was left to us by our uncle."

"Oh my god, you're Connor's nephew? I heard so much about you."

The rest of time the guys got acquainted with Joe, learning what had
happened. Connor had left sometime in the early 1990s for some reason and
had rented the building to a friend of his. Although the friend turned it
to a hotel and it was successful for a while it eventually dried up and the
owner didn't care anymore, so, not being able to pay the bills, it was
closed down.

"You okay?" Pat asked his husband as they pulled into the reception hall
for the wedding.

"Just thinking about the Orpheus," he smiled.

"Don't worry. We don't have to talk about it tonight. We have plenty of
time to make a decision.

Mike was happy with Pat's response. After they left Joe and had a quick
bite for dinner Pat had been coming up with idea after idea about opening
up the Orpheus again, Mike just needed to time to figure out what to do. On
the plane ride home he decided to make the decision later on and Pat
respected him for his decision.

They both entered the reception hall and listened to the service, well,
what could be called a service with the person officiating making jokes in
different languages to accommodate the happy couple who were of mixed
ethnicities.

After the ceremony came the waiting for the reception. The guests were
escorted into the hall for hor d'oeuvres where Pat unceremoniously took
camp right outside the doors as the waiter came out so he could bring
Michael the good stuff. Michael noticed Josh in the corner playing with his
tablet. They met officially for the first time a month ago at the burying
of his uncle. He thought maybe later he might talk to him again. His
parents were at the bar drinking a little too much.

Eventually the guests were invited in for the appetizers which were in the
form of a buffet. Following that the loud band began to play as the married
couple and bridal party entered the reception area to cheers and applause.

Soon after, everyone sat down to listen to the usual boring speeches, which
unfortunately were bilingual in this case. After that the dancing began to
start and Michael completely embarrassed Patrick with his horrible
moves. Although he was great slow dancer Michael was a complete mess
otherwise.

A slow dance finally occurred and they grabbed each other and moved to the
beautiful music. It was then that Michael broke the comfortable silence,
"Pat, we need to do this."

"Do what?" Patrick had forgotten all about the Orpheus.

"Open it up again. It will be a lot of work, but it would be a good plan
for retirement."

Clearly Pat was taken aback by the sudden change, however seeing as it was
his idea originally it made sense. "Yeah, and it would honour Connor that
it's being taken care of by someone he loves and trusts."

"He didn't trust me enough to tell me about it in the first place."

Pat rolled his eyes, "This will be a lot of work, though. Do we think we
can run a hotel?"

"No, but we can own an apartment complex. I was thinking, if we can get it
open the next six or seven months, we can be right in time for the school
year and can offer it to students."

"You got a point there. What about the basement occupant? Joe's `apartment'
leaves a lot to be desired."

Joe's apartment for lack of better term was disgusting. It smelled. There
was a long hallway with many doors that had odd signs on the frames. Joe
explained that the doors were for his private parties he had when the place
was fine hotel. There were some good pieces there though.

"I have a few ideas about what to do for Joe and his apartment. My question
is where are we going to get the money."

They realized people were staring at them now. It dawned on Pat first that
the music had ended. Slightly embarrassed, they took their seats to
continue their conversation as the reception line was beginning.

Pat turned back the question at hand, "Money won't be a problem, you're
talking to a retired contractor."

Mike laughed out loud at that, "Oh please, you don't even know how to use a
hammer correctly, honey. Last time you nearly broke your thumb. Besides,
there's always Brook and his boys. They are excellent at what they do."

"Are we really doing this?"

"Yeah," I think we are."  They eyed Josh Turner in the corner with his
tablet. "Come on I got an idea."

***

CONNOR – NEW YORK CITY - 1991, twenty two years ago



Connor was reading the morning news in his penthouse apartment at the
Orpheus. It had been about twenty-five years since he had taken full
ownership from Eric Sampson. Eric had trusted him to be a simple elevator
operator in 1949 and after his former friend, Bill, had accidentally burned
down the Orpheus, Eric trusted him even more and groomed him to become the
manager. Rick, Eric's nephew didn't like Connor at first, but over the
years they had come trust each other. Rick even insisted he move into the
lower apartments in the basement, where Eric took up residence. Eric had
moved to a smaller room to accommodate his aging body, which was now in its
80s.

Eric died suddenly in 1981 and it had saddened both Rick and Connor. The
funeral was nothing like he had ever experienced, it was written that Eric
wanted a simple no frills dinner with only his immediate family and
residents of his Orpheus in his former basement apartment, where Rick
currently lived. He also requested that Felix's bakery provide the food,
however, Felix did more than that.

He and Eric had grown up together since they were four years old. Felix
took the honour of speaking at the simple dinner. He told some funny
stories of Eric as a teenage boy and how he accidentally got stabbed in the
eye at the most inappropriate moment. Then he went on to explain Eric's
love of the hospitality business and how he loved his home, the
Orpheus. When it became successful Eric helped Felix open the
bakery. Connor listened to every word Felix said about his boss and
mentor. Rick only spoke briefly after that about his uncle and then Connor
explained the story of how he grew to love Eric as a boss and a friend.

Connor went home that night to his penthouse apartment with Yvette and she
held him. She knew how much love there was between him and Connor. That
night they made love and it was one of the best moments of Connor's
life. It was also the last time his life would be anything but normal.

Two days later Rick appeared at his door talking about a letter from Eric
that was delivered to him weeks before he had died. It was addressed to
Rick but was for both of them. Rick had read it privately and hated his
uncle for its contents, but he knew it was the right choice.

"Eric wants you to have this." Rick said without preamble. Yvette,
interested, came to stand by her husband.

She had to pull him back from wherever his mind was now, as he was clearly
stunned. "What is it dear?"

He just handed his wife the letter,

Rick and Connor,

If you are reading this then you know that I am no longer of this
world. Although I feared my death was coming, I hope it was quick one. I
wanted to tell you both that I loved you as sons. I was never able to have
children of my own but the two of you made me very proud.

Rick, I am sorry your parents left you when you were young. But when they
left you with me to raise it was best moment of my life and I know you
would agree. The love and support you gave me throughout the years in
building the Orpheus, I thank you. Although you built this from the ground
up with me the Orpheus needs someone else to run it. We both know deep down
that you never wanted those reigns. You were my right hand man, but you
never needed to spotlight. Thank you, son.

Connor, my dearest friend and fellow confidant. You have grown up to become
a great man and an excellent manager. The day you arrived at Felix's I knew
there was something special about you. I was right. The moment The Orpheus
burned down you took your rightful place at my side, helping me build it up
again. You have been a positive outlet with Rick and have shown charm, wit
and kindness to all our residents. There is nothing more I can say to you,
that you don't already know. Yvette was lucky enough to have you and that
son you raised he will make you proud.

It is my wish that you take the necessary step that the Orpheus requires of
you, something I need you to do. Take ownership of The Orpheus and help it
grow. You are the right person for the job. Enclosed is the appropriate
paper work and the phone number of my lawyer who will make it official.

I love you both, thank you for making me proud.

Eric Sampson, your uncle and your friend.

Yvette and Connor were stunned by the message even more than Rick was. Rick
was surprised that his uncle expressed himself with so much emotion. He had
never seen him like this.

"We cannot accept this," Connor stated matter-of-factly. "Rick, this
belongs in the family. As much as I cared for Eric he is your flesh and
blood."

Rick grabbed Eric on the shoulder, "Listen, you need to do this. He groomed
you to take this position, and for fuck's sake to him and to me you are
family. You deserve the Orpheus. Now make him fucking proud."

"What about you?" Connor asked, conscious of the swearing Rick had just
said.

"I'm leaving." He announced like he was forecasting the weather.

Yvette grabbed him, "Why?"

"This was my home when my uncle lived here. Now all that remains are the
memories, the life force. I can't stay here, it would be too sad."

Connor understood, "Where are you going to go?"

Rick had thought about only two things in last several months, his uncle's
health and his parent's present location.  He responded silently, "to find
my parents."

"Honey," Connor was brought out his daydream and looked at his wife. He
didn't know why his mind drifted to that moment when Rick left. His wife
stood there in just a bathrobe and she looked just as beautiful as the day
he met her.

"Hmm," he acknowledged. She waved him over, "It's your son."

He got up and took the receiver, "Steve? Are you and Theresa alright?"

"Yeah," he said happily, "I have some news! You're going to be a
grandfather again!"

That nearly knocked him over. This was the third child in three years. The
receiver kept talking , "And Dad, it's a boy. A beautiful boy."

"Theresa had him already? That was fast."

"No, we learned the sex today. We've been debating about whether we wanted
to know for a while and then the doc accidentally let it slip. He will be
born in July."

***



It was July and Yvette and Connor were in the waiting room. He and Yvette
had been there before since it was where both Rebecca and Helena were
born. Yvette turned to him and said, "I think it's time to leave the
Orpheus. I want to be closer to our family."

Connor had been thinking about that for awhile now, ever since he heard the
news that he was going to be a grandfather for the first time. Yvette loved
New York but she had grown steadily unhappy there, being away from her
friends and cousins in Montreal.  After Helena was born Yvette and him had
a horrible argument about moving.

"Honey, you know my reasoning behind not leaving."

"Con, your grandson is about to be born, that must mean something to you."

"More to me than you possibly know." Connor admitted. He loved Rebecca and
Helena, a lot, but he was always hoping to have a grandson. He could take
over the Orpheus when he reached a certain age. Steve never liked the
Orpheus and abandoned him and his mother as soon as he located a girl,
moving to Toronto. Supposedly because, according to his son, there was more
work available. Steve managed to secure a lawyer position quite easily,
although it required him to take the bar again and learn Canadian law. But
a competitive law firm sought him out because of his experience in American
law, as they had some American clients.

"Eric will understand. Look at me, Connor. Tell me you don't miss being
around your family. Tell me you don't like having Little Rebecca and Helena
by your side."  Both girls were with them, being looked after by Theresa's
parents.

"He gave me the Orpheus, his baby. I can't just throw it to the wolves."

Before Yvette could respond they heard a scream of delight coming from the
room where Steve and Theresa were delivering. Minutes later, Steve asked
his parents and parent's in law into the delivery room.  Connor looked at
his grandson and smiled.

"What's his name?" Connor asked quietly to his son.

"Joshua Albert Turner." Theresa smiled back at Connor. Theresa's mom
brought Rebecca and Helena closer to his their baby brother. Helena looked
hesitant, but Rebecca, already three years old, grabbed Josh's little hand
and smiled. "Hello, Josh."

That did it. Connor asked the question and Theresa and Steve could not deny
the request. Although he was barely an hour old Connor held his grandson in
his arms. He reminded of his son growing up in the Orpheus, being there
when he fell, when he was happy, and seeing through life unharmed. "Joshua,
welcome to this beautiful world. I am your Zaidy."

After a few minutes the nurse came and took the child for some
tests. Yvette and Connor waited outside while Theresa and Steve took a
moment with their daughters. "I made a decision."

When he told Yvette, she kissed him. Five minutes later Glenn arrived
huffing with his son and some guy Connor had never met. "We came as soon as
we heard from Steve. It was hard getting a flight."

"You missed it, Theresa gave birth just now. The nurse is taking them for
tests." He said hugging Glenn.

"You must be proud," Michael, Glenn's son smiled offering a hand.  "Yes, I
am. Turning to Glenn, he named him after our father."

Glenn smiled, although he and Connor didn't get on that much. "They were
there for each other when needed. They chatted about old times. Connor,
however, kept looking at Michael and the gentleman, who barely spoke.

"Michael, let's not be rude." Glenn stated sensing Connor's stare.

"Uncle...uh, this is Patrick...my boyfriend," Michael stated.  Connor
wasn't aware his nephew was gay, but that was okay, he had experimented
discreetly in his youth. He stuck out his hand and spoke directly to
Patrick. "Welcome to the family, son."

"Thank you. Mr. Turner."

"Please, Connor."  At last, Patrick joined the conversation and they all
saw little Josh again and each passed the child along, giving each person a
chance to hold him. Connor was the last to get him. He whispered in Josh's
ear, "I cannot wait to get to know you more."

As he departed he turned to Glenn, "Do you still have that friend at
Customs?"

Glenn worked for US Customs bureau, "Yeah, why?"

"How hard would it be to move to Canada?"

***

THE TRAVELLER – DALLAS – 2013



The Traveller was walking alone on the street in this Texan city. He had
always wanted to visit Dallas. Now he was there. He needed to escape the
bad dreams he had been having and moving down south had helped
slightly. Tommy and he had parted ways after their encounter a few months
ago. At first he allowed the youngster to stay with him on his travels.

It was helpful because it allowed them to get better acquainted after five
years of being apart. Tommy and he wanted back into their ways. The
Traveller missed his brother so much during their time apart, leaving him
was the only thing that stopped him from going in the first place.

However, in the ensuing months, Tommy understood the reason he left and why
he needed to find himself. Tommy had told him that there were days when he
wished he could venture out into the great unknown.  It was two months
later that The Traveller and his brother parted ways. The Traveller knew he
needed to continue on the solitary path, and Tommy knew that too. They
hugged for a long time on the day they left each other. Tommy made one
request.

"Send me a postcard or a letter every month. So I know you're safe and
okay."

"You got it little bro."  Tom smiled as he got into his car and drove
off. That night the dreams began, each one of them of him or his brother or
his father. They were all bad remembrances of his past at home or happy
memories of him and his brother.

Now in Dallas he entered a small restaurant for a morning coffee and sat in
the corner. He took out the pen and began writing to his brother. He wanted
to mention the dreams, but he never had the heart. He told his brother
about his travels in Nebraska and Oklahoma, seeing a tornado first hand. He
told him about a couple who were about to get married that he met on a bus
to Texas. He was about to explain his thoughts of Dallas and the big
college community it had. They were crazy about their football and he never
understood.

However, he couldn't get a sentence down because of the conversation that
was taking place behind the counter. He thought it was just typical
conversation between what he assumed was a father and son, but the voices
were raised. The Traveller was reminded of the two brothers who owned the
restaurant in California.

"Son, I don't give a shit what party you have to go to. You need to stay
tonight."

"No, I don't you asshole. This is your fucking business not mine."

"Don't you dare raise your voice like that to me you ungrateful child."

He raised his hand in a motion that the Traveller knew well. Before the
hand made contact The Traveller was next to the father. He asked, "Are you
guys alright?"

The both stared at him, "We're fine."  The look on the son's face said
different so the Traveller sat down on the stole next to them. He smiled,
"Let's talk about."

"No offense, sir, this is kind of family thing."

"No offence taken. But you were about to slap this young boy."

The traveller thought about it and calmly stated, "I think if we talked
about this maybe we could make sure nothing violent occurs. Besides, I'm
quite familiar with father-son relationships.

TO BE CONTINUED...

*****************

Please email me your comments, questions, critics, as I look forward to

hearing from you.

andywasputz@hotmail.ca