Date: Sun, 29 Sep 2002 16:34:26 -0700 (PDT)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 36 of "Ambush"

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

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

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 36
Shifting Centers

On Monday evening, Miles Forbisher phoned Evan Halsey, catching him
in the study grading tests.  "Thank you, Evan, thank you, thank you."

Evan stared out the window, trying to recall what he might have done
to make Miles so happy.  "But my check for Jeremy's adoption and the
addition of a codicil to my will wasn't that big," Evan responded.

"I'm talking about Jim and me.  I drove back to town early this
morning after a weekend on his farm."

Evan laughed with delight, remembering what had been scheduled,
reveling in his friend's obvious happiness.  "I can hear in your
voice that it went well."

"Well indeed!"  Silence ensued.

"So you're going to make me ask for details?" Evan asked archly.  "I
paid my bill promptly.  Now you pay yours."

Miles chuckled.  "We were like rabbits.  We started out in the barn
after we had cleaned all the stalls.  Up in the hayloft again - with
our boots on."  Evan laughed.  "Saturday night, I got that massage
you suggested that Jim give me.  Jim got one too.  Do you know how an
evening of sex can be prolonged when it starts out with two guys
trading massages?"

Evan's head shook a bit.  "Now that you mention it, I don't.  I've
missed something."

"You and Ron will have to try it."

Evan's brow creased, but he asked, "So what else?"

"Sunday morning we slept in - in each other's arms.  Then we made
slow, easy love.  Sunday afternoon, we rode horses all over the farm.
We stopped by a clear stream and went skinny dipping."

"A-n-d?" Evan pressed.

We traded slow blowjobs.  Sunday night, we made dinner and then
talked the evening away - until time for bed, that is."  Miles
chuckled.  "Yeah," he responded to Evan's unasked question, "Jim was
hungry for me again.  What could I do?"

"You Dawg!" Evan charged, laughing with Miles.

"We're good together, Evan, in the sack or out.  I've never had an
experience like this with anyone.  Every minute we were totally there
for each other.  He wants me so much he makes me top him every time."

"Oh, I can see the arm-twisting now.  The Brute.  Forcing you like
that."

Miles roared at Evan's irony.  After settling down, he spoke softly,
"I'm a willing victim."

"So it's love, then?" Evan asked hopefully.

Miles hesitated, recalling his and Jim's discussion of love with Ron
after the ballgame.  "Surely feels like it, but we aren't rushing to
declare it yet.  We want to be certain."  Even though Miles was
speaking of only Jim and himself, Evan felt reproached.  "Then I
drove back to town early this morning after we made love again.  Did
you see Jim at school?"

"No, I didn't.  Now I know why.  Poor guy.  You obviously wore him
out.  He didn't even have strength left to crawl out of the basement
where his office is," Evan teased.

"Evan, you would not believe how Jim prepared for this weekend.  He
had farm clothes and work boots waiting for me.  He'd checked with
Rosamund about my sizes."  He laughed.  "I didn't even know my
secretary possessed such information about me.  I guess it's the
mother in her.  He'd prepared or bought things ahead for every meal.
The house was immaculate.  He had massage oil ready.  He'd picked
out music for dinner Saturday and Sunday evenings.  I wonder if he
didn't decide what topics we discussed in that long talk we had,
sitting in recliners in the family room.  I was so touched."
Miles paused.  "I wonder what I can do to pay him back, to show him
that same level of attention to detail for making him feel
comfortable, appreciated?"

"You'll know, Miles.  It'll come to you."

"Yeah, I think it may come up this week, but it may be an
insurmountable obstacle," Miles grumbled.

"That sounds ominous," Evan observed.

"Later this week I meet with Brenda Belton's attorney so that we can
work out the details of a divorce settlement."

"Oh," Evan said glumly.  "I've been thinking about that, Miles.  It's
none of my business, and I'm not asking you to violate any confidence
or ethical canon to respond to what I'm about to say.  Regard it
merely as my worrying about Jim, but I've had this sinking feeling
every time I think about Jim's love for his farm. I can't help but
think that the farm will have to be sacrificed so that a settlement
can be made.  I really don't know Brenda.  I saw her occasionally at
all-school picnics when faculty brought their families.  I think Jim
introduced us once.  I believe she has a degree in information
science.  It's my impression that librarians don't earn a lot unless
they work for a school district where a salary schedule is in place.
So I'm certain she will want her share of the farm - probably even
need it.  I think something bad may happen for Jim.  That farm is so
much a part of his history, his identity."

"I know.  Caring for Jim as I do and being an attorney, I've played
'What if' over his losing the farm.  He's going to need his friends,
Evan, if that occurs.  Will you and Ron be available to help fill his
time if that does happen?"

Evan started to reply in the affirmative, but his brow creased again.
"I certainly shall be available, and I'll be seeking Jim out at
school if he seems to be holing up.  He helped me more than once when
I needed it, so now I can repay his kindness.  I can't speak for Ron,
but he'd appreciate it if you talked to him."

"You won't be talking to him?" Miles asked.

Evan cleared his throat, stalling, never having reached this very
moment when he had to acknowledge to anyone but himself that
something was wrong in Ron's and his relationship.  "Hm-m-m, I don't
see Ron at school much.  We aren't going out as often."

Miles didn't reply immediately.  Evan could feel himself blushing
even though Miles was not physically present.  "I guess that's why
the four of us haven't been able to make that dinner together
happen," Miles commented.

Now it was Evan's turn to avoid replying immediately.  He sighed in
defeat. "Something's not right.  I don't know what, Miles.  I need to
take myself to the woodshed for avoiding dealing with it.  It's so
unlike me.  If a challenge presents itself, I just wade into it feet
first to meet and resolve it.  But I'm hanging back for the first
time in my life.  I'm not proud of admitting that.  Maybe this
situation reminds me too much of another time in my life when a
relationship fell apart.  I tell myself that I'm busy at school and
busy at home with Jeremy and also with Troy, now that he's living
here.  Did you know that?"

"Yes, Ron sat with Jim and me at the ballgame last week.  He told
us."

Immediately, Evan wondered what else was discussed.  "I know I'm
dodging the issue about Ron and me.  It's humbling.  I've always
expected my students not to flinch or flail when life puts issues in
their path, and I've been impatient when they've held back or delayed
in meeting it head on.  Now I'M doing it.  Believe me, I'll approach
their situations more compassionately in the future.  Instead of
pushing them, I'll nudge them because I'll be remembering what I feel
like now."

Miles chuckled.  "But you'll still be moving them forward rather than
allowing them to stew.  That's so you, Evan."

"What's that mean?" Evan asked, pitching a little attitude, quaking
under what he thought was a critical eye, not realizing that he
himself was chiefly responsible for his own discomfort.

"Don't get your dander up, friend.  I'm celebrating your nurturing
orientation to your students and friends.  You can't kid me.  You
don't want those kids hurting any more than is necessary.  It drives
you crazy to sit by watching them do that."

"Ouch," Evan exclaimed.

"What?" Miles asked, concern registering in his voice.

"You just fingered me."

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Miles asked suggestively.

"Horn Dog!  I mean you reminded me of a student, Tony Francini,
who's probably feeling very ambiguous now."

"Tony Francini of Francini's Italian Restaurant?" Miles asked.

"The same.  At Jeremy's reception, he teased me about supposed trysts
I'd had in a special alcove at his family's restaurant.  He blurted
it out in front of some of my students who didn't know about that.
It's really no big deal.  He was referring to my having dinner with
Tim Minor, a teacher with whom I was involved for a little while.
Tim then dumped me for a knockout college student, a chem major.
They moved off to the capital together when Tim changed jobs."

"The relationship you just referred to?  That's the same guy who
brought Ron to your school?"

"The same."

"Was he trying to make up for what he'd done to you by sending Ron to
fill his place as teacher and lover?"

Evan sighed.  "I don't know.  I've never talked about his having
such an intention before. Anyway, your comment reminds me that I
need to talk to Tony tomorrow.  He's a great kid.  His girl friend
is also a student of mine.  In fact, if I have success stories,
Tony is one of them.  I already admire the man he's going to grow
up to be."

"I can imagine what that last statement would mean to him if he heard
Evan Halsey utter it."

Evan barked out a laugh.  "Alright.  Now you're doing my shtick -
nudging me to get off my butt and resolve this issue for Tony's
benefit."

Miles laughed.  He paused.  "Maybe if you can do it for Tony, you can
do it for Ron and Evan too?"

Evan was silent for a bit.  "You were a camp counselor when you were
in high school or college, weren't you?  Spent summers taking care of
scrapes and cuts, bug bites, helping kids combat homesickness by
learning to stand on their own two feet?  Getting them to stretch
beyond their own shallow expectations?"

Miles laughed.  "You got me!"

"And I'll never let you live it down!"  They both chuckled.  "Who
knows, maybe some of that will help you with Jim as he adjusts to the
changes in his life," Evan suggested, relieved he was deflecting
attention from his own dilemma.  "Your support will mean much.  Maybe
you harbor some 'camp counselor perspectives' in your memory banks
that will boost your effectiveness."

"Okay," Miles said, "now who's nudging?"

They both laughed.  "Maybe that's why we're friends," Evan observed.
"Getting back to the point, I know Ron would be touched if you would
ask him yourself to stand by in case Jim needs our support. . . .
Miles, it suddenly occurs to me that if this settlement goes against
Jim, he'll totally withdraw, become a phantom, even avoid us.  Is
that your reading too?"

"Yes," Miles spoke softly.  "He'll hurt big time, Evan.  One of the
memories I brought back from the farm is how much that farm means to
him, how much it's his patrimony.  It's woven into his being.  He's a
man of the land:  he feels responsible to generations of his family
even though they've passed on.  I'm not confident at all that he'll
find me a sufficient bulwark during a time that tests him to the
depths of his being.  I just realized that our new
relationship will be tested too."

Neither Miles nor Evan spoke, but they felt much.  "This conversation
started out on such a high note but has reached such a somber point,"
Miles remarked.

"It needed to be said," Evan rejoined.  "Okay, Miles, let me know
when and if I can do anything for Jim.  I'll start making contact
with him at least once a day at school even if I have to hunt him
up."

"I'd appreciate it, Evan," Miles responded sincerely.  "Work on Tony,
and then Ron too, okay?  You need to feel better about those fellas."

Evan thought to himself, 'No way I'm going near Ron until I know he
really wants me.'

When they'd said their goodbyes, Evan sat at his desk, musing for
perhaps five minutes.

Troy stuck his head in the door.  "Earth to Evan, Earth to Evan.
When do you land?"

Evan turned toward Troy, smiling.  "What's up, Dude?"

"Just taking a study break.  The house is so quiet, I decided to see
if you were still here."

Evan just smiled.  "Jeremy's at work."

"You okay?" Troy asked.

Evan nodded his head, but then in a sudden reverse, shrugged his
shoulders. Troy walked in, swiveled Evan's desk chair back toward
the desk, and began kneading his shoulders, making Evan moan.
"You're tight, Evan.  You have some knotted muscles here.  Did you
know that?"

"No."

"It's Ron, isn't it?  I mean Ron and you, right?"

"Yes.  Did I give it away?"

"No.  Susan and I talked about it a little at lunch.  She figured it
out just by studying you when our class was in the library. . . .
Funny, isn't it?"

"What?"

"We hit periods in life when nothing seems to be working out, seems
to be falling apart.  Tim and you.  Greg Dunwoodie and Ross Brownlee.
Byron Okata and Melanie Simpson.  Tony and  . . . .  My dad and me.
And now Ron and you.

Evan knew Troy meant Tony Francini.  "Finish what you were going to
say about Tony."

"Tony and you."  Troy cleared his throat.  "He's feeling bad, Evan.
Thinks he's delivered life's cruelest blow to you with that comment
at the reception.  Says you don't want him near you now.  We keep
telling him to talk to you, but he won't do it.  I don't know why.
You're really important to him.  Angela was going to talk to you, but
when Tony learned about it, he put his foot down.  He wouldn't allow
her to do it.  That man can be really stubborn!  So she's feeling bad
too."

"Okay.  I'll take care of it soon.  I'm ashamed I've been so
distracted with other things."

"You mean my moving in here, right?"

Evan shot up, turning around, pulling Troy against him hard, causing
Troy to hug back.  "NO, damn it!  Your being here, our being able to
make you a part of our home, that's one thing that's going right
around here.  Don't you feel that?  Know that?"

"I just don't want to be a burden."

"You're anything but!"  Evan leaned back, looking up at Troy.  "With
all we've been through and meant to each other, Troy, we've committed
to each other. We're way past any issue of your being a burden."

"Thanks, Evan," Troy said, leaning down and kissing the top of Evan's
head.

Evan cocked his head back, looking up at Troy again, a combative look
in his eyes, a frown on his face, delivering a fake gut punch to
Troy.  "You kissed me on the top of my head.  I'm not a little kid."

"Okay then," Troy muttered, leaning down and pulling Evan into a hot
kiss with tongue, which Evan returned.  When they broke, Troy looked
deeply into Evan's eyes, making him wonder what was coming next.
"Evan, what do you do when it feels like everything's falling apart
in your life?"

"Restore your center, or move to a new one if the old one isn't
working anymore."

"Center?"

"Whatever anchors you, activates you, serves as your gyroscope.  For
strong people, it's something they internalized at significant
moments in their lives, something to which they cleaved because they
recognized that it was an important concept, image, totem, talisman,
philosophy, value, person, situation that they realized transmitted
energy, from which they drew strength and purpose.   The center can
be a lot of things. For weak people, it's something that is external
to them, not internal.  When it's external, they have no control over
it. It controls them.  They are always reactive, never proactive.
For young people, it's often family, assuming it's a health family.
Sometimes when families aren't healthy, young people have to look for
another center.  Unfortunately, they don't always choose well."

"Oh, that's why you took me in," Troy exclaimed.  "I lost my family
as a center when Dad kicked me out.  You didn't want me making
a bad choice for another center."

"We took you in because we love you, brother, Lion, friend."

"Why do you have to restore the center if you cleaved to it before?"

"Time, tide and circumstance cause us to lose focus, stray, loosen
our hold on our center, shift to another center or somebody else's
center, sometimes without knowing we've done it.  Or as I indicated
about dysfunctional families, it isn't working as it should."

"Why does it sound difficult to restore the center?"

"Usually because your inclinations seduced you away from it.
Anything that seduces us away from our moorings is powerful.  For
whatever reason on whatever level, you wanted that other thing that
is not your center, is not compatible with it; otherwise, you could
not have been seduced away.  And when the shift occurred, you didn't
ask yourself what the price for shifting was - if you were even aware
of the shift at all.  Wanting is a force, superseded only by
anger, pain, fear, and hate in power."  Evan suddenly smiled.  "Sex
belongs to the category of wanting.  We don't fight wanting
naturally, so it takes a lot of effort to restore the center."  Upon
uttering those words, Evan couldn't help but think of Ron and him.
Sex had been their center, he suddenly realized.  "Please understand,
Troy, that I'm saying all this humbly because I've lost my center
too."

"Ron?"

Evan shook his head in the affirmative.  "We never took the time to
establish a workable center for our relationship.  We just jumped
into a sexual relationship, which became our center.  For many
reasons that we overlooked, sex is not a good center for a
relationship that needs to grow and deepen.  It's a powerful means to
a noble end.  We allowed it to be the end itself.  That's when it can
become a dead end."

"How can something as pleasurable as sex be a dead end?"

"When it makes you settle for less than you or your sex partner could
have, are capable of having, or deserve.  When that happens, it's no
more valuable than Fool's Gold, iron pyrite, which, for all its
glitter, holds no precious metal."

"I guess there's a lot of Fool's Gold out there for us to grab onto?"
Troy asked tentatively.

"You've got it.  And no one's immune to its allure."

Just then the phone rang.  Troy snagged the receiver.  "Halsey
residence."  He listened for a few seconds.

"Hey, Babe.  You studying or working on your research paper?"  Troy
listened, grinning, mischief shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's the pits to have a slave driver as an English teacher,
who makes us work so hard we can't even be together during the week,"
Troy groaned, aping suffering.  Evan freed himself from Troy's one
arm, sassily flipping the bird at Troy while walking out of the
study.

				***

Later, on a midweek night, the Halsey residence was quiet.  Its
habitues were within its walls, Evan grading papers in the sunroom,
Jeremy in the family room reading a chapter for his World History
class the next day, and Troy working at the computer in the study on
a chemistry lab report due on Friday.  Evan jumped from sudden
banging on the front door.  As he arose and moved hastily to see who
was at the door, he wondered why he always assumed someone needed a
phone to report an accident when he or she pounded on the door.

Evan peered out through the small glass circle in the front door
and through the glass screen door. The porch light illumined the
caller, a stranger, an older man, but he looked slightly
familiar:  tall, broad-shouldered, dark blond hair, darker mustache,
square jaw, good-looking.  Evan opened the door.  "Get Troy!" the man
demanded.

'Ah,' Evan thought, studying the caller, 'this must be Troy's
father.'

"I said to get Troy."

Evan frowned.  "Who ARE you?"

"I'm Troy's father," the man said, as though Evan had asked an
obvious question.  "And I'm not here to visit.  Get Troy!"

"What is your name?" Evan asked calmly.

The man's irritation revealed itself immediately.  "Roy Morgan.  Now
get Troy."

"Well, Roy Morgan, be advised that you are on my property, and if you
expect to continue to occupy space on it, you'll find some manners or
you can take yourself OFF my property!  Allow me to state the obvious
- which oddly seems to have escaped you:  I call the shots here, not
you.  Nobody comes to my door making demands."

"I'm here to take my son home.  Get him."

A hard gleam arose in Evan's eyes.  "You mean the son you kicked
out?" he asked in an accusatory tone.  "You mean the home you threw
him out of - in the middle of the night 'without any provision for
his health, well-being, or safety'? That's legal language, in case
you didn't notice.  The son you reviled with hateful names?  I'll
tell you right now - if he doesn't want to accompany you, he's
staying here.  He's not going to be subjected to that cruel behavior
any more."

Roy looked scornfully at Evan, eyeing him from head to toe.  "A pip
squeak like you is going to keep me from taking my son?  What have
you got - a black belt in karate?"

"No, I have a black belt in Rodney Hampton."

A look of irritation and confusion flashed across Roy's face.
"What's a Rodney Hampton?"

"The chief of police and the grateful father of a former student."

"I suppose he's a fag too."

Evan's eyebrows rose.  "I'll tell you what, Ro-o-o-o-y, since you
seem to think everybody else's sexual orientation is your business,
I'll give you his address. You charge right up to him, get in HIS
face, and ask him what you just asked me. You might want to have the
number of a bail bondsman on you before you go there."

Roy looked like he was ready to pop his cork.  "I'll go to the school
board about you.  Get you tossed out on your ass."

"I'll give you the phone number of the president of the school board.
While you're calling her - "

"'Her'?  A woman?" Roy remonstrated.

"You have a problem with that?" Evan studied the man.  "What a
foolish question," Evan observed, tossing his head.  "It must be the
company that's just brought itself to my door.  Of course you have a
problem with a woman as president of the school board. . . . Anyway,
while you're calling her, I'll call the Division of Family Services
hotline and tell them about your irresponsible treatment of your son
and the slurs you've used against your son and against me. It is
mandated by law that any allegation be investigated.  Your behavior
is so marked with ignorance you probably didn't know this city has an
anti-hate ordinance.  Using slurs against people as you just have
lays the groundwork for being charged with a hate crime if you are
arrested for violating other pertinent laws - disturbing the peace,
harassment, assault, battery, those kinds of illegal behaviors.
Besides, I have an impeccable reputation - you don't.  The word is
out about how you treated your son."

"Nothing will happen to me!"

"Your reputation will be sullied even more.  All the kids at Troy's
school will hear about this.  They already know you kicked him out in
the middle of the night.  Many have told their parents.  It has
rippled out from there.  Eventually, it will filter into your
workplace within the hearing of your employer and supervisors and
circle of friends.  Are you beginning to see the ramifications of
your rash behavior?"

Evan felt a presence behind him and a hand being placed on his
shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.  He looked back to see Troy
standing beside him, his eyes hardening as he looked out the door at
his father.  Jeremy stood next to Troy with an arm over his shoulder.
"Dad, what are you doing here?" Troy asked with some attitude.

"Get your things.  You're coming home - NOW!"

"NO!" Troy replied just as emphatically.

Roy looked surprised.  "Do as I tell you.  You're coming home."

"I'm not coming home to listen to your stupid talk, calling me names,
giving me the cold shoulder.  Besides, today at school little
brother Drew told me what's really going on.  Right in front of the
family this morning, Mom told you that if you didn't get me back
home, your butt was going to be the next one out the door."  Evan
turned to look at Troy, his eyebrows raised as though saying, "Do
tell!"  Then he turned toward Roy, the same look on his face,
accented with a sassy grin, adding to Roy's irritation.

Troy continued, "She said she'd file for divorce and ask for custody
of us boys. She also told everyone, including you, that she wasn't
going to hear one more nasty name used by the men in her family,
names like those you have called me and slung around here this
evening.  And she told you that she was making the decisions from now
on because she was tired of your overbearing attitude.  If you could
kick me out, then you'd lost any sense of value or justice.  She
would see to it that the other boys didn't grow up with your bad
habits."

Troy was panting from his rapid-fire response and heightened
emotions.  "So you didn't come here because you care anything at all
about me."  Evan suddenly glimpsed the depths of Troy's pain at being
rejected so demonstrably by Roy. "You've discovered that your wife
has a temper, and she'll use it against you if you don't shape up.
And she's got the standing to do it.  Given all that, do you think
I'm going home just to save your sorry ass after you threw me out?
That would be stupid!  This is my home now.  Not that you'd care, but
I'm treated with love and respect here."

A light suddenly gleamed in Roy's eyes.  "You'll hurt your mother if
you don't come home with me.  What did she do to deserve such hurt?"

Troy snorted out a short laugh, expressing contempt.  "Good try.  It
won't work, you hypocrite.  How do you explain away the hurt you've
caused her, the hurt she felt when you announced that you'd kicked me
out because I'm a homo without giving her a chance to weigh in on
your decision or even listen to my version of what happened?  I'll
call Mom tomorrow.  We'll have a talk, but I'm not going with you
now.  You've kicked me out for the last time in your life.  Oh, by
the way, you don't need to come to any more of my basketball games.
You're not pumping up your ego at my expense ever again.  You need to
leave now."

Roy muttered something under his breath.  Evan smiled, recalling his
prediction that the next time Troy's father braced him about
something, Troy would come right back at him.  Roy's days of
domineering Troy were definitely over.

Looking at Evan, Roy asked, "So you're going to support him, provide
all his needs?  Because he's not getting a dime from me."

"We've worked out an arrangement," Troy responded.  Evan remained
silent, staring back at Roy as though he'd just won the lottery.  He
wanted Troy to feel the flush of independence and control, of
standing his ground with Roy, even backing him down when he was out
of line.  That would be especially important if Troy decided to
return home at some point.

Roy was shifting his weight from one foot to another as though he was
about to turn tail and run.  "Yeah, I'll just bet.  How many times
does he have to service you?" he asked, looking at Evan.

Evan's eyes turned steely.  "One more instance of that kind of talk
and I'm calling the police first and my lawyer second.  You will not
come to my home and talk that way to me or anyone else here.  You
clearly didn't hear a thing your wife said.  I've had it, Mr. Morgan.
Your behavior exceeds any obligations of hospitality.  Leave now!
And get some help.  You're obsessed with sex, especially others'
sexual orientation.  And you're a control freak."

Roy looked at Troy.  "Don't think about college.  This spells the end
of it for you."

Troy responded with heat:  "Whatever my freedom costs, I'll pay it,
especially if it means I don't have you messing up my life again.
Besides, we've talked about that here too.  Don't hold your breath,
waiting to see me flop.  I'm working hard on my studies to bring my
GPA up and on basketball to compete for a scholarship.  Coach
Hernandez will be a big help there.  In a year, I'll have been
accepted at some university."

Roy stood looking at all of them.  Twice he started to say something,
then closed his mouth.  He spun around and charged off to his car,
parked at the curb.

Evan shut and locked the door.  Turning, he threw his arms around
Troy.  Jeremy pulled Troy around into a three-way hug.  "Are you
going to be okay?" Evan asked.

"Yeah.  Let's all go get something to drink and then we'll talk."  He
led the way to the kitchen with Jeremy behind and Evan bringing up
the rear.

"You guys go sit in the family room," Jeremy directed.  "I'll bring
us some orange juice."

When they'd all settled in the comfortable family room, Jeremy asked
Troy, "Is there anything we need to do for you now, Troy?"

"Naw.  I'm going to call Susan in a bit.  I'm okay, really."  But
Evan and Jeremy, trading glances, knew Troy was upset.  It's
not easy to read off a boorish oaf, especially if he's your father.
"I wish I didn't have to leave Mom hanging like this, but I want us
to have a sit-down, just the two of us, nothing over the phone.  May
I ask her over here to talk, Evan?"

"You know you can, Troy.  This is your home now.  And we have enough
space that we can give the two of you privacy.  Just let us know
when."

Troy chuckled ruefully.  "I remember when we brought you here,
Jeremy, homeless.  And when we left, you had a home and a plan for
college.  I never imagined that I'd be in the same situation in just
a few months' time."

"You're not going to allow what just transpired at the front door to
diminish your sense of yourself, are you, Troy?" Evan asked.

"No.  I'm a little surprised . . . I feel pumped.  I don't feel bad
at all.  I wish none of it had happened, but I realize now that it
had been moving to that point all along.  After Susan and I ran into
Drew today and he gave us the family news, I knew my dad would make
some kind of grandstand play.  He's the kind of man whose image
depends on a lot of people accepting HIS values.  He'll be cast
adrift when he discovers that the majority considers his values
outdated and bigoted.  But I was happy that Mom came out of hiding.
If she's feeling like me, she's pumped too."

				***

The next morning Dave Hernandez, the head basketball coach, was
sitting at his desk during his office hour, studying statistics
from the last two games.  The team had clicked like crazy.  Dave
realized during the warm-up before the first game that these boys
were going to meld into a better team than they had ever been.
He didn't know whether it was Troy's apology during the spirit
rally, the team's refusal to accept his offer to step down as
captain, or Troy's leadership, but he knew that Troy, backed by
Cody, was the catalyst.  Dave was determined to grasp the shape
of the team's new dynamics so that he could help them build on it
to become champions.  He smiled, remembering Evan Bradley's
challenge to do just that.  It excited him, knowing he could lead
the team into one of the best experiences they would ever have in
their lives.  For him, nothing had been headier in life than being
part of a finely tuned team.  He wondered if it was that way for
all coaches.

He looked out the window, wondering if his fellow teachers felt
pumped the way he did when they could lead and coach their students
into new achievements. They HAD to feel the same way.  Immediately,
Evan's face floated across his mind's screen.  Yeah, one time he
might have hated to admit it, but he knew Evan had made a major
contribution to Troy's playing so well.  When he heard at the
beginning of the school year that Troy was going to be in Evan's
English class, he knew that it would be a triumph or a disaster for
Troy.  Evan showed Troy he could think, and think intelligently.  He
remembered Troy's shining eyes as he described how Evan had taken him
back to when he was a child, trying to lob the basketball up to the
hoop - all as a means of discovering how he had already learned to
recognize and transcend challenges.  Since then he heard several
times each month from Troy about an incident when Evan had taught
Troy how to use his mind to achieve better results or to step to
new levels of leadership.  And Susan was doing the same for him.

Dave felt a little envious as he looked back on his schooling.  Most
of it was tedious, rote learning, relieved only by sports.  As a
result, even in college he'd always been afraid that he wasn't a good
student, a good thinker.  Where would HE be now if he'd had someone
like Evan as a teacher?  Of course, he might have ignored Evan.  He
had a feeling though that Evan would have pushed and pushed until
they were nose to nose with Evan guilting him into fulfilling his
potential.  He was smiling at the thought of it.

Oh, Dave had been popular with his high school teachers, but only
because he was the star jock - and a good one at that.  They let him
get by with no effort at all.  No one warned him about the lifelong
lack of self-confidence he would pay as a price.  It made him think
they really didn't care about him at all.   Until recently,he'd
felt uncomfortable around his colleagues in this school.  He was always
reserved around Evan and other teachers who were regarded as super
smart.  He was even apprehensive around Ron Hamilton, who had been a
star jock too.  But he was damned smart as well - one could tell if
he listened to him in a conversation.  He'd stayed away from Evan
because he was afraid Evan would instantly recognize that he wasn't a
brain.  When he'd confronted Evan after the spirit rally, Evan had
chided him and challenged him at the same time to take his team to
new heights.  Dave grinned, suddenly realizing that Evan had made him
believe more in himself just as he had done with Troy.  Evan would
never have delivered the challenge if he didn't think Dave could
meet it.  Probably made the challenge less gently than with Troy
because Dave knew he'd pissed Evan off.  The ringing phone jerked
him out of his reverie.  "Coach Hernandez."

"Coach, it's Roy Morgan.  Congratulations on your victory against
Wayland High last week.  That was a monster win."

"Thank you, but you should congratulate the team, especially your son
and his clone, Cody Saxon."  Dave heard a "hurrumph" on the other end
of the line, making his brow wrinkle.

"I'm calling to alert you to a problem that may interfere with your
team's play in the future and a winning record for you.  I know it's
interfering with Troy's game.  I guess you know Troy moved out of our
home and into Evan Halsey's place."

Dave wondered what con job Roy was pulling.  He knew from several
years of being a coach when he was being courted for some plot by
parents or alums. He'd learned the hard way to nip it in the bud, or
it would haunt him in the future.  After Troy started varsity
basketball, Roy had struck up a friendship with Dave.  In no time at
all, Dave realized that the friendship was phony - merely a ploy
allowing Roy to tell Dave how he really ought to be coaching Troy and
the team - all in the name of a concerned friend, of course.    "Roy,
the talk here at school is that you kicked Troy out in the middle of
the night without any concern for where he was going to sleep or eat.
Many people would regard that as unfatherly behavior on your part.
Evan was kind enough to give him shelter.  If anything, Troy has been
playing better ball in the last couple of weeks.  He was staying with
the Halseys during that time."

"I didn't have any other choice."

"What did Troy do that left you no choice?" Dave asked, barely masking
his skepticism.

"I overheard him talking to someone on the phone.  Troy's a fag."
Dave winced not just because of the epithet but because of the issue
and what it disclosed about Troy's father.  To underline his point,
he used a formal address:  "Mr. Morgan, I have to tell you now that I
won't listen to any more of that name-calling.  It's not condoned at
this school, and even the school board has endorsed its prohibition.
We are in the second year of a program to increase tolerance for
diversity in our school community and all the others in the city.  I
have to tell you at the same time that I can't believe you're talking
about your own son this way. He's a great kid, a good student, a
strong athlete, a genuine leader.  I'd take him as my son in a
second."

"I'd like to get him back home.  Then we could straighten out this
misunderstanding," Roy spoke heartily, "get him back on the straight
and narrow."  Dave frowned.  He could just imagine the kind of
"straightening out" that would be waiting for Troy.  That would more
likely interfere with Troy's play.

"So have you gone to talk to Troy?"

"I tried last night.  Halsey wouldn't let me.  Threatened me."

Dave's eyebrows shot up, registering skepticism.  "How did he do
that?"

Dave heard nothing, thinking that Roy was quickly manufacturing cover
for what really happened.  He must have thought he had only to allege
it and Dave would believe it, whole cloth.

"Why wouldn't he run me off?  He's a queer!  That's why Troy moved in
with Halsey and his 'new' kid.  Both of them are queer.  If what I
hear is correct, the Halsey kid has a little boyfriend."

"That's nobody's business."

"It is if my son is involved."

"That boat won't float, Mr. Morgan.  You kicked your son out.
Stirring up trouble will first raise issues about your role in Troy's
situation in ways you won't welcome.  And you ought to be more
judicious about slinging around accusations like that about Evan,
Jeremy, and Kenny.  It's irresponsible.  How would you like a raging
pack of parents and Evan and their lawyers pouncing on you?  These
are well-connected people.  They have clout, and they know how to use
it.  I'll also warn you that you won't get anywhere running Evan
Halsey into the ground.  The man has the respect of everyone in this
school and a lot of parents in this city whose children learned well
from him.  It sounds as though you discovered last night that Evan
can be a scrapper.  But if you have issues about any teacher in this
school, you should talk to our principal, Kate Williams." Dave
grinned, thinking about what a confrontation that would be, wishing
he could be a fly on the wall.

"Another woman," Roy spat out hatefully.  "They don't know their
places."

"She's a fine professional and leader, Roy.  I respect her."

"You friends with Halsey too?"

"No.  I'd be happy to be a friend of Evan's.  I'm pleased to be a
colleague of his."

"I should have known the way you coach that you'd take up with the
weaklings - women and queers."

"As for my being a coach, Mr. Morgan, I am and you're not.  Troy came
to me in the past about your trying to become his basketball coach,
bullying him to play your style of ball.  If anyone is going to
interfere with Troy's game, it's you, trying to relive your youth
through your son.  I was going to talk to you about it back then, but
Troy said he'd take care of it.  If what was reported to me is true,
and I believe it is, he did just that.  If you were a coach and
behaved as you are now and encouraged young men to play the way you
want, you'd be fired."

"Your school must be full of homos and fag-lovers."

Mr. Morgan, I'm hanging up.  I told you I'm not going to listen to
that language." And Dave did.  He sat thinking about the downright
cussed meanness he'd just heard.  He tapped his pencil on his desk
blotter.  He arose.  He'd better warn Kate Williams what might show
up at her door.  As he walked down the hall to the main foyer and
office, he decided he'd better warn Evan that Roy Morgan was trying
to drum up trouble.  Then maybe he'd better have a talk with Troy.

				***

At noon, Evan was eating quietly in his classroom, reading an essay
on postmodernism when he was distracted by someone knocking on the
frame of the door.  Looking up, Evan saw Dave Hernandez.  "Mind if
I interrupt you?" Dave asked.

"Not at all.  Come in and have a seat," Evan invited warmly, laying
his book aside.

Dave settled into a desk, lacing the fingers of his hands together on
the top of the desk.  "Has Roy Morgan come by to see you?"

"Last night," Evan said.

"Did Troy leave with him?"

"He refused.  With his father, Troy has finally found his voice."

Dave shook his head in understanding.  "Troy's dad called me today,
trying to enlist my help in getting Troy away from you."

"AWAY from me?  I can imagine the kinds of things he alleged," Evan
commented.

"Yeah, he was heavy into hate.  But when he called Troy and then you
and Jeremy the first name, I cut him off.  Told him I didn't listen
to that kind of talk, and if he valued his future, he wouldn't sling
accusations like that around.  I told him I wouldn't stand for him to
use that kind of language against Troy.  He claimed Troy's ball-
playing skills are declining because of your influence.  I told him
my observations indicated just the opposite."  He grinned.  "I told
him that if he remained concerned, he should talk to the principal,
Kate Williams.  He snorted out something like, 'A woman?  She doesn't
know her place.'"

"You dangerous Dawg," Evan charged, grinning widely.  "He didn't know
you had just helped him lower his head onto the chopping block."

Dave arose.  "Thanks for giving Troy a home, Evan.  He's feeling good
about himself now.  You can see it in his bearing and in his play and
leadership.  I appreciate your contribution.  Let me know if you need
any support."

"I appreciate that, Dave.  I shall.  And I extend the same offer to
you," Evan said, as Dave leaned forward and held out his hand,
briefly shaking Evan's before turning back to the door.

				***

Later that evening, Evan looked up the number of the Francini
residence.  When Mrs. Francini answered the phone, Evan asked to speak
to Tony.

"Whom may I say is calling?" she asked.

"Evan Halsey.  I'm Tony's English teacher."

"Oh, Mr. Halsey, of course.  I'll get Tony."

Evan knew Mrs. Francini must be entertaining at least five questions
about why Tony's English teacher was calling at night.  He hoped Tony
wouldn't receive a grilling because of it.

"Hey, Mr. Halsey.  What's up?"

"Tony, I was wondering if you would stop by my classroom after you
have lunch tomorrow?  I'd like to talk to you."

"Okay.  But don't bring lunch.  I'll take care of it if we can eat in
our classroom."

"Oh . . .," Evan's mind was churning.  "I don't want to put you to
any trouble, Tony.  You don't need to do that."

"I know.  I want to do it.  I know you don't eat a big lunch.  We'll
have gazpacho and bread sticks.  Okay?" he pushed.

"Well . . . hey . . . okay.  I love gazpacho.  But how will you get
it to school?"

"Don't worry about it.  I'll have someone bring it over from the
restaurant.  See you in class," Tony said, hanging up.

'Hm-m-m-m,' Evan thought.  'He certainly hung up fast.  I hope he's
okay.'

The next day at noon, Evan had continued reading the long essay on
postmodernism and contemporary literary theory that he'd put aside
when Dave Hernandez dropped by the previous noon.  Gradually, he
realized Tony was standing in the door to the classroom without
announcing his presence.  He was taller than Evan, his head crowned
by a mound of unruly black curls that made him look adorable.  His
thick black eyebrows lent his dark eyes intensity.  His long narrow
nose had a slight Roman bump, announcing his heritage, complementing
his high cheekbones.  His olive complexion harmonized nicely with
lips that curved like Cupid's bow, marked by a natural blush.  He had
wide but not broad shoulders, a slim, sinewy frame that would entice
but not intimidate.  He would catch many women's and men's eyes.
"Tony, come in."

Tony walked into the classroom, appearing very much a strong male in
control, carrying a picnic hamper.  "Hi, Mr. Halsey.  "Thank you for
seeing me.  For eating lunch with me."

"You're bringing gazpacho from Francini's VERY Italian Restaurant.  I
should be thanking you!" Evan responded with pleasure.  Tony
snickered.

Setting the hamper down, Tony walked up to Evan, grasping him in a
hard hug. "I'm sorry I let out personal information about you at
Jeremy's reception."  Tony stepped back.  "My dad would be steamed at
me if he knew I did that.  He taught me that the customer is always
right even if he's wrong and that we're kind of like bartenders:  we
keep quiet about diners' guests.  I broke that rule."

"Tony, it's okay.  We're past it.  It's a new day.  Let's just move
on as we've always been."

"Dad asked me why we hadn't seen you at the restaurant in a while.
You were staying away because you didn't trust me any more, did you?"

Evan studied Tony, trying to fashion a positive response.  He started
rubbing one palm against the other as he replied.  "I just needed a
little time to get past that moment at the reception."

"I hurt your feelings, right?"

"I guess."

"You thought I didn't care about you."

Evan just shook his head in the affirmative.  Evan admired Tony's
accurate analytical abilities.  He'd obviously spent a lot of time
analyzing the situation. He looked at Evan for the longest time,
causing Evan to wonder if there was anything else he should say to
set their relationship back on track.

Suddenly, Tony wheeled about, walking to the hamper.  "Here, let me
serve this. Then we can talk," Tony said.  Very much the classic host
at an inn, Tony commanded, "Sit, please."  Evan did as he was told.
He studied Tony as he unpacked the food and table service, and
napkins, ladled out the cold gazpacho, and set out bread sticks in a
basket.

Evan tasted the cold soup.  "Um-m-m-m-m.  I love gazpacho, but I've
never had it at your restaurant.  This is wonderful!"

"Of course," Tony answered.  Evan laughed.  "I thought if I brought
some 'VERY Italian Francini' food, you might come back to the
restaurant."

"Well, after this treat, I shall have to return for more."

Tony smiled.  They ate in companionable silence.  All of a sudden,
Tony blurted out, "I wish I were gay so that I could show you how
sincere I am about not meaning to embarrass you at the reception."

Evan paused in his attack on the delicious soup.  "What an odd
comment.  Why do you have to be gay to convince me you're sincere?"

"Mr. Halsey, I know you're gay.  If I could do those things to you,
then you'd know how important you are to me, how sorry I am"

"Tony," Evan said with a slight degree of exasperation, "you don't
have to be gay to convince me that what you say is sincere.  Do I
have to be straight to convince you of how much I value you?"

Tony studied Evan dispassionately.  "No."

"Then you don't have to be gay to convince me."

Tony paused.  "Why are you so touchy about some things?"

Evan placed his soupspoon in the bowl quietly, looking out the
windows, thinking.  After awhile, Tony wondered if Evan's mind had
jumped off into another dimension.  "Fear of losing" was Evan's
reply, uttered so softly that, if no one heard it, it wouldn't be
true.

"You don't have anything to lose with me," Tony replied.

Evan glanced at him and then away.  "Losing your esteem, good will,
approval."

"I didn't think you cared about anyone's approval."

"With special people I do."

"But you can't go through life without losing sometimes.  It's the
breaks."

"All I know is that when I lose, I never get back," Evan uttered, a
bitter edge to his voice.  "I'm poorer.  Sometimes when I look at my
life, it's a history of loss."

"You're life looks terrific to me.  What makes you think you lose
more than anybody else?" Tony asked, his question hinting of his
old impertinence.

"If my life looks terrific to you, it's only because you don't have
to live it, relentless second after relentless second.  You see only
the surface.  Every time I think I've escaped the pattern, it kicks
me in the ass.  It was back there all the time.  I just didn't see
it.  I hate not seeing what's coming.  As for what makes me different
from others, I can't answer.  I wish I could.  I hate these
circumstances."  Evan paused a moment, studying Tony.  "What happened
with Tim Minor is happening again with Ron Hamilton and me."

"What is it about you that you think caused this trouble?" Tony
quizzed.

Evan thought for a bit.  "You certainly are making me define my
thoughts and feelings more precisely."  Tony grinned.  "I'm so afraid
that someone will look at me finally, irrevocably, deeply, and find
me not worth the effort," Evan concluded.  "It happened with my
father, wife, and Tim Minor.  I think it's happening with Rom . . .
maybe some others."

Tony looked at Evan for the longest time.  "So that's why losing is
such a big deal with you.  If you lose someone, you think it proves
you weren't worth the effort. . . .I don't know how to help.  I
understand what you're saying, but I can't even imagine it.  Angela
and I don't have that problem.  Maybe we will someday, but I hope
not.  So I have no answers for you.  If I came to you with this
problem, what answer would you give me?"

Evan thought for a while.  "You should never reveal your total
vulnerability except to someone whom, you've established, loves you
completely."

"You're thinking of Tim Minor," Tony spoke matter-of-factly.  "But
you could mean letting me see you with Tim and Ron at our restaurant.
You thought you were important to me, but when I popped off in front
of the guys, you felt betrayed, which left you feeling hurt.  I
understand now."  Tony thought a bit. "What you just told me about
Mr. Hamilton and you was making yourself vulnerable to me.  Is that
because you think I love you?"

Evan went back to his soup, blushing, feeling that Tony's asking the
question was its own answer.  Tony stared at him before observing, "I
think sometimes you wish I was gay."

Evan averted his gaze, not answering.

"I think it's more than just my body you want," Tony added hastily,
as though appeasing Evan for the implications in what he'd just said.

Evan lay his spoon down, continuing to stare at the floor.  "Even if
I were gay," Tony continued, "you'd want more than a roll in the hay.
You'd want me to love you."

Silence.

"Why?" Tony quizzed.

Silence.

"Is that why you froze me out?"

Evan pursed his lips, then emitted a little sigh.

"Why would you want my love?" Tony pressed.

"You're wonderful, exciting," Evan replied quietly, not looking at
Tony.

"What's wonderful about me?" Tony responded.

"Everything.  Your quick wit, your sense of humor.  Your
mischievousness. Your caring, sometimes your taking control.  Your
certitude.  Your strength, your appearance, your potential.  If Tony
Francini likes someone, that person feels as though he or she is
valued beyond the Pearl of Great Price.  You don't know how awesome
it feels when Tony Francini demonstrates that he cares for someone.
Angela is a lucky woman!"

Tony sat studying Evan for a bit.  Then he arose, replacing the
dishes and utensils in the picnic hamper.  Evan watched him,
wondering what was running through his head.

When he had packed all away, Tony grabbed the hamper and started
walking out of the room.  "Tony . . . ," Evan said.  Tony continued
walking away, never turning around, but he waved his hand in
farewell.  Evan's head dropped, for he felt that he'd failed at
something.  He didn't know that he would have felt better if, instead
of seeing the back of Tony's head, he'd seen the smile being born on
Tony's face.  It grew as Tony walked out the door and down the hall.

Evan was confused.  What had just happened?  Were he and Tony any
better off than they'd been before? . . . He didn't think so.  Had he
lost Tony? . . . Felt a lot like that.  Tim.  Ron.  Roy Morgan.  Now
Tony.  He wasn't piling up successes in interacting with people.
'You're looking exclusively at the negative,' that interior voice
warned.  'You'll dig a hole for yourself if you don't look at those
with whom you are succeeding too.'  Evan didn't return to his essay;
instead, he riveted his attention on the scene outside.  He saw Byron
Okata walking to the front entrance holding the hand of a cute young
woman.  He thought her name was Sherry Westbrook. Well maybe
something was going right for Byron.  He hoped so.  He could stand to
see at least one person be successful in affairs of the heart.

				***

Angela's parents being out of town, Tony spent that night in her bed.
He made unusually passionate love to her.  He made certain their
foreplay was long and hot.  In fact, Angela climaxed the first time
during the process, making Tony feel like a sexual giant.  When he
sank his fat six inches into her wet, warm, silky vagina, she
immediately had another orgasm.  Tony worked tirelessly to drive her
to orgasm after orgasm - multi-orgasmic madness!  Once or twice, he
found himself trying to imagine what it would be like to have Evan
under him, to be in control of him, driving him to a passionate
orgasm, using his dick and body and mouth to show Evan how much he
meant to him.  It didn't give him any answers. At least he wasn't
revolted by the idea.

After he had climaxed, basked in the afterglow, he finally rolled
onto his back. Leaning on an elbow, running her palm over the sweat-
soaked wiry muscles in the smooth chest and stomach of her hunky
boyfriend, Angela observed, "You were magnificent, Stud.  I don't
know what's gotten into you.  So commanding, so forceful, so caring!
Sort of like you were trying to prove what a stud you are. You never
have to prove that to me, but I'm going to encourage you to apologize
to Evan more often."  Tony didn't react for a long while.
Eventually, he smiled.

"So how did it go?" she asked.

Tony looked over at her.  "Kind of weird."

Her head cocked to the side cutely.  "Why weird?  Did you apologize?"

"Yeah.  But then we got into this intense discussion.  Maybe I
started it when I said if I were gay, I could convince him how
sincere I was in my apology.  He told me I didn't have to be gay to
convince him.  Since we were speaking frankly, I asked why he was so
touchy about some things."  Angela's eyes widened.  "He said he was
afraid of losing my approval.  I said he didn't act like he needed
people's approval.  He said he 'was touchy' with some people because
they are special.  I told him I thought he had a terrific life.  Then
he got into this discussion about how his greatest fear is losing.
He told me he and Ron Hamilton are on the outs maybe.  Then he said
something about never making yourself vulnerable to people unless
you know they love you.  I realized he'd made himself vulnerable to
me.  Was it because he thought I loved him?"

"Well," Angela replied, "there's a difference between loving someone
and being in love with someone."

"I love Evan.  I wonder if he wants me to be in love with him?  I
can't be.  I'm in love with you.  I don't think I'm complicated
enough to be in love with more than one person at a time."

Angela smiled.  "Well, I like the sound of that.  Go on.  Tell me
more about what you two talked about."

Tony thought for about half a minute, trying to remember their
discussion.  "He said he wanted my approval.  When I asked why, he
said I was wonderful.  I asked him how I was wonderful.  He rattled
off all these reasons, so I knew he'd thought about what he liked
about me before then.  It almost knocked me off my feet, Angela.
Except for you and occasionally Mom and Dad, no one has talked to me
that way, made me see good things in me.  I really wished I'd had
some answers for him on the Ron thing.  But I didn't.  I'm not gay.
I was disappointed in me.  So I packed the hamper and left."

"How did you leave it with him?"

Tony looked puzzled.  "I just told you - I didn't have any answers."

"You didn't just walk out?"

"Yeah. . . . I waved good-by.  What's wrong with that?"

"Tony-y-y-y-y-y," she wailed.

"What?" he demanded.

"Evan spilled his guts to you.  You can't just walk out without a
word after that."

"I said I didn't have any answers.  I didn't know what else to say."

Angela pursed her cute, kissable lips, thinking.  "Do me a favor.
Close your eyes and replay that scene in your head, but you be Evan
and let Evan be you. Ready?"

Tony looked doubtful.  "I'm not certain I can put myself in as Evan."

"Just try it."

"Okay."  Tony closed his eyes.  While he did as Angela asked, she
rubbed her flat palm slowly, gently over his chest and abs.
Gradually, she felt the muscles beneath her hand tightening.  She
knew it was working.

Suddenly, Tony exclaimed, "Shit!  He opened his eyes:  "I've done it
again. . . . I'm beginning to think I don't do this relationship
stuff well."

Angela smiled.  "You're doing okay.  You just need a little fine-
tuning.   So what are you going to do about this new situation with
Evan?"

				***

Robert Martin, Kenny Walters' former boyfriend and now Lisa
Wemberley's beau, had been continuing his social program initiated by
Evan.  He still made it a goal every day to recognize at least one of
those marginal students dissed, regarded with contempt, mistreated,
or ignored by other students.  Jonah Stedman, one of those
disenfranchised students, was a veritable brain, entering senior high
school two years ahead of his ordinary entrance age.  Because he'd
been jumped ahead of his classmates two times, his young age isolated
him among the older students in senior high.  To make matters worse,
he was still small and thin, all gangly.  Robert had teased him that,
like his namesake, a whale could swallow him easily, thinking him a
minnow.  It taught him what an endearing giggle Jonah had.  A blond
mop of hair crowned his head, freckles dotted his nose, on which was
perched wire-rim glasses, making him look like a little blond Harry
Potter.  A sweet smile graced his cute face.

Robert had watched Jonah for three days before he'd struck up a
conversation. Jonah had had his head in a book the entire time.  As
nearly as Robert could tell, Jonah had absolutely no friends.  He was
always alone, arriving at school alone, walking the halls alone,
sitting alone, eating alone, looking at students, if not life itself,
with BIG eyes.  He'd caught a couple of freshman, Benjie Waters and
Tom Beardon, menacing Jonah, so he'd stepped in and ended it,
admonishing the two that he expected better behavior from them in the
future.  He made them apologize and then shake hands with Jonah,
warning them that he'd be watching them, expecting them to become
heroes for Jonah and other students.  He secured a promise from each
one that they would adopt this new role.  Jonah watched wide-eyed,
looking at Robert like a lost puppy, which Robert had reached down to
pet.  After his rescue, Jonah had glommed onto him like a thirsty man
after water.

Jonah grew on a person - even Lisa.  Before long, they often included
him on many of their outings, treating him as a little brother.
Jonah basked in the attention, becoming livelier, exhibiting a sharp
sense of humor and a loving spirit.  Before long, Robert knew that
Jonah was heavy into hero worship when it came to their relationship,
which bothered him a little.  It reminded him too much of Kenny
Walters.  He knew he missed the buddy side of his relationship with
Kenny.  Only after it was over did he realize how much it pumped his
ego up to know that Kenny felt protected by him, perhaps the reason
he'd thrown himself so much into his social rescue program at the
high school.  He wished he could return to that side of Kenny's and
his relationship, but that wouldn't be possible now that Kenny had
Jeremy in his life.  And it wouldn't be fair to Kenny, probably.  So
he found satisfaction in having Jonah as his buddy.

When Robert had learned that Lisa was going to be involved with a
field trip over the weekend, he'd asked Jonah to attend an action
movie with him Friday afternoon after classes.  Then they would hit
the basketball game later that evening.  Jonah had talked excitedly
about the movie just a few days before. After the movie, they had
emerged from the huge mall, swapping explanations of their favorite
scenes in the movie.  Robert had thrown his arm around Jonah, and he
had his around Robert's waist.  Neither thought it more than an
expression of their companionship and good spirits.  They hadn't
really paid any attention to the five guys walking toward them from
the parking lot, thinking they were friends about to hit a movie
together.  But the five homed in on the two locked together by their
arms.  Then Jonah suddenly noticed that that the five had spread
themselves into a semi-circle on the sidewalk, blocking Robert and
Jonah's path to their car.  Jonah grabbed the back pocket of Robert's
jeans, yanking Robert back while he voiced a little whimper.  Robert
turned to see what Jonah wanted, noticing his pale face and worried
look.

"You can't go anywhere without running into a homo these days.  They
just stand around in public pawing each other," one of the young men
on the end of the semi-circle taunted.  Robert realized that this boy
wasn't the leader.  The thickset leader stood in the middle of the
group.  All the others were taking their cue from him.  He was
wearing boots, jeans, and a black leather jacket.  He wore his black
hair in a high and tight.  He was stocky, all muscle, Robert thought.

Digging down within himself, Jonah found courage to respond to the
taunt. "We're not homos.  Robert has a girlfriend, Lisa.  She's nice
and beautiful."

"Oh, R-o-b-e-r-t," the leader said slowly, "so you've got regular
pussy and then a pussy boy on the side."  His cohorts snickered except
for the one on the end who'd spoken first.   He looked angrier.

Just at that moment, Jarod Paine and Valerie Cunningham had driven
into the parking lot on that side of the mall.  Valerie had spotted
Robert and the gathering, elbowing Jarod and pointing his attention
to the guys on the walk. "Jarod, that doesn't look good.  Are those
guys threatening Robert and his friend?"

Jarod slowed the car and glanced where Valerie was pointing.  Sure
enough.  The guys had placed themselves directly in the path of
Robert and the little fella. He'd been around enough in his early
wild days that he knew words were being exchanged, heated words
coming from the five hoods.  He immediately stopped the car.  "Babe,
go inside near the theaters.  See if any of our friends are there.
Some of them may have had our plan of seeing a movie before the game.
Bring them back out here - but easy like.  We don't want to start a
fight."

"Okay."  Valerie opened the door and hopped out, entering the mall at
a rapid walk.  Jarod drove toward the group, spotting an empty
parking slot nearby.  He parked the car, locked it, and strode toward
the group, slowing as he nearly reached them, hearing Robert explain
that they weren't looking for trouble.  That they had just gone to
see a good action movie.  Ignoring the five guys, Jarod hailed
Robert, coming up behind and walking through the pack threatening
Robert and Jonah.  They looked hostilely at the dude walking through
their midst, acting like they weren't there.

"Hey Robert!  Hi ya', Man.  I didn't expect to see you here.  I don't
think I've had a chance to talk to you since Jeremy's party.  How's
Lisa?"  Just then they heard someone shout their names.  They turned
to see Jim Marbury and Gabe Hinton walking out of the mall entrance
toward them, smiles on their faces.  The stances of the five hoods
became less settled.  At the same time, Troy, Cody, Jeremy, and Kenny
drove by, planning to grab a quick bite to eat at one of the many
restaurants in the mall and to do a little shopping to kill time
before Troy and Cody had to go to the gym to suit up.  Kenny was the
first to spot the group. "Oh-h-h-h-h, look!  That's not good!"

"What?" Troy asked, trying to catch a glimpse at what had attracted
Kenny's attention while steering the car.

"Over there," Kenny pointed.  "Stop the car, Troy.  Let us out.  You
can park and join us."  Troy did as Kenny had directed.  Jeremy noted
with delight how Kenny had taken command of the situation.  "Okay,
guys.  No fight though!" Troy ordered.

As the three alighted from the car, Jeremy and Kenny hustled over to
stand right next to Robert and Jonah.  Robert's smile was quick as he
spotted Kenny, who smiled warmly back.  Robert held out his hand to
Jeremy, who shook it.  The hoods were now swapping glances, for the
tables had turned considerably.  They were outnumbered.  Cody came
ambling up, casting an impudent look at the hoods, allowing his
shoulder to nudge the leader as he walked through the toughs, walking
over to stand by Jarod, Jim and Gabe, planting his feet wide apart.
Just then Troy hailed, "Hey, gents!  What's up?" as the heads of the
five wheeled about to see who was again coming up behind them, again
making their positions vulnerable.  Troy walked through the five,
giving them a smile.  Valerie walked out of the mall entrance,
walking up to Jarod, who slipped his arm around her waist, pulling
her close to him.

"I think we all had the same idea - visit the mall before the
basketball game," Troy said, smiling.  He turned to the five, walking
up to the leader.  "Hello, I'm Troy Morgan.  Who are you?" he asked,
holding out his hand, towering over the stocky tough, who had to look
up at Troy.

"Uh, Burt Graham," he answered, shaking Troy's hand.  "Hey, aren't
you that ball player that shot that last-minute basket a few weeks
ago and beat Midvale High?  Story in the paper and all that?"

"Guilty," Troy smiled.  "But the real culprit is Cody over there.
Cody, come over here."  Cody ambled/swaggered over, looking down on
Burt.

Burt held out his hand.  "Burt Graham."  Cody looked Burt in the eye.
Then looked down at his hand.  Burt's eyes flicked over to Troy as
though to see if all was well.  Then back to Cody, who finally
grasped the proffered hand.

"Cody stole the ball with five seconds to go, drove down the court
and passed off to me," Troy explained.  He's the hero."

Burt's eyes were beginning to shine with worship.  "Rad play, Man."

"Thanks," Cody answered, smiling coolly.

"Who are these other fellas?" Troy asked.

"Buddies of mine," Burt answered, looking to his left and right.
"Meet Austin Wilson."  Troy held out his hand, which Austin shook
hesitantly while Troy repeated Austin's name in greeting.  "Next to
him is Chad Murphy, then Rex Tolliver.  That sour-looking guy down
there on the end is Denton Cooper." Denton wouldn't shake Troy's
hand, preferring to glare at all of them, irritating Burt.  "Cooper,
what's wrong with you?"

"I don't like queers.  I don't want to be around them."

Though he remained hacked at Denton, suspecting that he made him look
like a wimpy leader, Burt turned to Troy.  "Maybe you should answer
that."

Troy worked hard to keep his feelings to a smile rather than the
belly laugh he was holding in.  For all his apparent admiration, Burt
was casting a gauntlet quietly on the ground before Troy's feet.

Troy walked over, standing close to Denton, looking down on him.
"Denton, what's your problem?  Since you can't see anything but homos
around you, I'm thinking that you're covering your true nature."
Denton stared back.  Troy started counting in his mind, waiting for
Denton to register Troy's remark.

"Huh? . . . Hey, what are you saying about me?  I'm no homo!"

"Then why are you so uptight about them?  Why do you see them
everywhere? Are you afraid of them?"

"I'm not afraid of anyone or anything."

"Then you'd better stop seeing gays everywhere you go.  After while,
your friends will find you tiresome, then boring."  Troy noticed Chad
and Rex swapping glances.  'Oh,' Troy thought, 'it's already
happening.'

"So Chad and Rex, are you down on anyone?  Maybe gays?" Troy asked,
walking over to look down on them.

"No," Rex answered a little defensively.

"Chad?"

"Not really."

"Well, look at us," Troy invited, turning with his hand out, sweeping
to include all those behind him.  "We're all friends.  Go to school
together at Templeton Senior High School.  We know some of our
friends are gay, but we don't care.  It doesn't threaten us.  We're
not hung up on sex."  Troy snickered.  "Well, we like it a lot, but
we're not hung up on it."  Burt and all the others grinned, Denton
being the holdout.  "When we're around each other and look at each
other, we aren't seeing a sexual role or label.  In fact, we're
pretty proud of ourselves that we avoid labeling others.  We just
have fun, hang out together, like each other, help each other, study
with each other.  Life for us is good.  It wouldn't be good if we
spent all our time on a witch hunt, being afraid of this or that."

"I'M NOT AFRAID!" Denton remonstrated.

"Then lay off the names, Man.  It isn't cool among the enlightened
and the hip," Troy challenged.

Denton blushed.  He turned to Burt, who'd been listening carefully to
Troy. "Enough talk," Denton announced to Burt.  "Let's bash some
fags."

"Chill, Cooper.  These guys are cool."

All but Denton looked nervously at Burt.  Robert thought about future
chance meetings among them all.  Suddenly, he had an idea.  "Jonah,
tell Burt and his friends about yourself," Robert suggested,
squeezing Jonah's shoulder.

Jonah scowled at Robert.  "Uh . . . I'm a freshman at Templeton High
School."

"You don't look old enough," Austin observed, just short of a taunt.

Jonah waited three beats.  "I was jumped ahead two grades, which put
me in senior high school early."

Jonah looked up at Robert, a questioning look on his face.  "Go on,"
Robert encouraged.  "Tell them about your family."

Jonah blushed.  "I don't have a family.  Just my mom and me.  My dad
ran off with a waitress when I was really little."  Jonah looked
slightly sideways out of the corners of his eyes, expecting to see
looks of contempt or to hear giggles among the others.

Burt fixed his gaze on Jonah.  "Crappy, ain't it?  My dad ran off,
leaving Mom with three kids."

Rex grinned.  "Do they call you Brainiac?"  A chuckle ran among the
others since the name implied a monolith when Jonah was so slight.
Jonah smiled, shaking his head in the negative.

"So what high school do you guys attend?" Troy asked Burt.  The smile
faded from Burt's face.  After a pause, he responded with a little
belligerence:  "We don't.  We dropped out."

The smile faded from Troy's face.  "That's a shame, man."  Troy knew
this was not the occasion to discuss the issue.  "Hey, I've got an
idea.  Why don't you guys come see us play tonight?  We're taking on
Raleigh Senior High School. Raleigh promises to give us a run for the
league championship this year.  It ought to be a good game."

"We might try that," Burt said.

"Then sometime maybe we can talk about school and your future," Troy
added.

Burt looked wary.  "Maybe."

 "Hey, listen," Troy continued.  "We've all got to get on about our
business so that we can get to the gym on time.  You okay with us
now?" he asked Burt.

"Yeah, glad to meet you.  We have to catch the movie Jonah saw," he
said, winking at Jonah, who winked back.  He captured his buddies in
his sweeping glance.  Nodding his head toward the mall doors.  All but
Denton followed, the latter glaring at the others.  Burt turned
around.  "Denton," he barked.  Still looking angry, Denton moved
reluctantly toward his buddies, who were nearing the mall doors.

				***

Evan had stumbled to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee in
just his boxers. Jeremy was once again staying overnight at Kenny's
home, so Evan expected to see no one other than Troy.  Evan mused
that it was good that Troy had moved in; otherwise, he would probably
be feeling lonely with Jeremy spending nights more often at Kenny's
home.  He wondered if he was going to start feeling left out.  He'd
returned to his bedroom to shave, shower, and dress.  Upon entering
the kitchen, he grabbed a container of strawberry-banana yogurt from
the refrigerator.  He immediately recognized that he was hearing more
than one set of feet clomping up the stairs. Evan rinsed out the
plastic yogurt cup and trashed it, placing his spoon in the
dishwasher as Troy walked into the family room, followed by a smiling
Susan and a smirking Cody.  Evan's jaw dropped.

Seeing that Evan was surprised, Troy greeted him, "Hi, Evan.  Did you
find my note about who was staying overnight?"  Evan looked wildly
about the kitchen, spying a note on the kitchen table.  "Oh, were you
guys pulling an all-nighter for a test?"

"On the night of a basketball game?  Naw," Cody laughed.  "We were
studying but nothing academic.  If there was a test, we all passed
with flying colors."  Troy and he chuckled, looking into each other's
eyes.  Troy swung his arm around Susan and pulled her close, giving
her a peck on one cheek while Cody delivered another on her other cheek.
She was beaming.

Evan said softly, "Oh . . . ."  Then tipping to the innuendo in
Cody's disclaimer and the joint kiss, a louder "OH!" issued from his
mouth.  His eyes shot from one to the other of the three nervously.
Then another softer "Oh," with the tone of his voice falling off.  He
acted as though he'd stumbled accidentally into a situation where he
didn't belong. He shot out of the kitchen.  He was gone, leaving a
startled trio.  Cody had enjoyed Evan's surprise and, possibly,
discomfiture immensely.  Troy looked puzzled.  Susan's brow was
furrowed.

				***

Early that evening, Evan sat at the computer in the study to compose
some handouts for a couple of his classes.  It hadn't been a challenge
to have the computer to himself:  Troy was out somewhere, probably with
Susan, and Jeremy was at work.  It had been a strange day.  He'd stayed
away from people - except for Jim Belton.  When he'd arrived at school
earlier than usual because he'd fled his own home, he'd gone to the
school basement, finding Jim in his office.  Evan had tried to visit
with Jim, but Jim's mind was someplace else.  "Is anything wrong,
Jim?" Evan asked.

"Yeah, Miles meets with Brenda and her attorney today about the
settlement.  I guess I'm a coward for not going, but I begged off.  I
knew I couldn't control my reactions if I heard bad news.  I didn't
want to bawl in front of anyone."

Evan just shook his head in understanding.  "What time is the
meeting?"

"5:30.  They had to wait for Brenda to get off work."

"Is there anything I can do, Jim?  How'd you like to go out for
dinner this evening - my treat?"

Jim smiled wanly.  "May I take a rain check, Evan?  I won't be good
company this evening."

Evan chided himself for jumping to what looked like an easy answer.
"Of course.  Rain check granted."

Jim had shut down after that, preparing himself for bad news, Evan
knew.  He'd not gotten back to Jim's office the rest of the day
because his own mind was atumble with too many negative feelings.
Somehow his failed meeting with Tony merged with the scene in his
kitchen that morning and the recent nonevents with Ron and the
morning's short exchange with Jim.  He'd decided he was flawed for
not keeping those occurrences separate in his perceptions.

Suddenly the phone rang.  As soon as he heard Miles's voice, he had a
premonition.  "Hey, Miles.  What's up?"

"Bad news, Evan.  Brenda wants her share of the farm."

Evan was silent for a while.  "I was afraid of that," Evan commented
quietly.

"As you predicted, she needs a nest egg.  She's apprehensive about
how she'll survive.  Right now, she doesn't have anyone in her life.
It's making her feel highly vulnerable, especially financially."

"Well, I can't say I wouldn't feel the same," Evan observed.

"I offered to buy Brenda's share of the farm, offered her a good
price for it, and she was all for it, very relieved.  She observed
that it would mean that Jim could keep his family's farm.  She's a
nice person.  She's not out to hurt Jim.  Said Jim had always done
right by her.  But her lawyer asked to speak to her alone.  I left
the room for ten minutes.  When I returned, I could tell Brenda was
unhappy. Her lawyer had strongly suggested that an auction might
provide her more money for her share.  And he's right.  He was
representing her well.  She reluctantly agreed.  So the farm has to
be sold at auction.  At least she looked miserable when I left them.
I haven't been able to contact Jim.  How should I tell him, Evan?
I've been thinking I should take him out to dinner and then break the
bad news.  What do you think?"

"Hm-m-m-m-m, may I offer an alternative?  Take him someplace where no
one will be nearby.  How about the farm?  He will feel less vulnerable.
He won't have to guard himself.  I think you'll be more satisfied for
that reason alone."

"I'll do it."

"Miles, let me know how Jim is after you share the news.  Help me
figure out what I can do to help him and you."

"I shall.  I'm going to call Ron now with the bad news, enlist his
help too."

(To be continued.)

I apologize for the delay in completing this chapter.  For about eight
weeks, I've been flying out of state almost each week on business.  Not
conducive to writing.  It won't be quite that bad in the future.
Evan