Date: Thu, 12 Jul 2001 09:25:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@excite.com>
Subject: "My Father, My Son"--28th Installment

Following is the twenty-eighth chapter of my novel, "My Father, My Son."
The story is mostly fiction, but contains some elements that are true from
the author's own experience.  The story contains explicit descriptions of
sexual activity among family members, but contains no violence of a sexual
nature.  Also, all sexual activity is with the complete consent of all the
persons involved.  In addition, although condoms are never mentioned, it is
the author's intention that readers should assume that condoms are used
whenever anal intercourse is performed by any of the characters.  Any
persons who are offended by material of this nature should read no further.
The author welcomes any comments at any time, whether constructive or
destructive, and whether praiseful or damning.  Suggestions of any kind are
equally welcome.

Send to Tom Borden, tombor99@excite.com


My Father, My Son
Chapter 28

Brian's birthday party had been a great success, but everyone was tired
when they returned to their rooms.  After supper, Jake and Enrique sat out
on their doorstep enjoying the cool evening air and watching another Texas
sunset of red, gold, and purple.

Enrique leaned over and rested his head on Jake's arm-his favorite way of
sitting with Jake.  He looked up at Jake and said, "You played the bagpipes
really good today.  Everybody liked it.  I'm glad I bought that for you.
And I'm so glad you're not gonna die.  I was so scared."

"Aw, Ricky.  I wasn't never gonna die.  I'm sorry I worried ya."  Jake ran
his fingers through Enrique's silky black hair and pulled him tightly
against himself.  "But it was nice of ya to worry about me, ya little
fucker.  That's why I love ya.  We sure do belong together, don't we?"

Enrique nodded while nuzzling his head further into the crook of Jake's
arm.

Jake looked out to the west and watched as the last little edge of the sun
sank beneath the horizon.  The sky was so red that everything on the ground
had turned red.  The house, the bunkhouse, the white barn, the trees,
everything was red.  After a few minutes, Jake looked down at Enrique.

"Ricky.  Ricky."  Enrique had fallen sound asleep.  Jake bent his head
forward and kissed him on the top of the head.  Standing slowly, Jake
carried Enrique inside and gently placed him on the bed.  Jake lay down
next to him and, propping himself up on one elbow, looked down on Enrique's
peacefully sleeping face.  As he traced his finger lightly over the arch of
Enrique's dark eyebrows, he wondered how long it would last.  How long
would it be before Enrique might once again be lured away from him.
Enrique was growing up.  He was taking more responsibility on the ranch.
His voice had changed over the past year, and he sounded like a young man
now, rather than that sweet little boy Jake had loved so much.  Jake knew
it could never last forever.  And he really didn't expect it to.  Ricky
needed to find new friends.  He would be going to a real school in January,
and there would be no question that Jake would have to share him with
others.  Jake stretched out very close to Enrique, pressing his cheek
against Enrique's, and went to sleep.

Jake didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he awoke suddenly and
looked up into Enrique's smiling face.  Enrique was completely naked and
was crouching over Jake looking down on his face.  Enrique had undone
Jake's pants and had already had Jake's penis and balls pulled out into the
open.

"Jake I wish you hadn't come awake.  I was going to see if I could get you
to shoot while you were asleep!"

"Aw, shit, Ricky.  Nobody can cum while he's sleepin'."

"Yes they can, Jake.  I made you do it the other night while you were
sleeping.  And you didn't even know it."

"Aw, fucker.  I'm sorry I woke up."

Enrique unbuttoned Jake's shirt and untucked it from his pants.  He nuzzled
his face into Jake's thick black chest hair and sucked on large clumps of
it.

Jake said, "C'mon, scoot up here and sit on my chest, real close to my
chin, and let me smell and taste them pretty little balls of yers.  Wow.
Yer startin' to grow some nice soft curly hair on yer balls."  As Jake
sucked Enrique's balls into his mouth, one by one, he mumbled, "I'm not
hurtin' ya, am I?"

"No, you ain't, Jake.  Can I scoot up higher so you can get your tongue
down behind my balls?  I love that."

"Yeah, Ricky.  Git up there so both yer cock and balls are restin' on my
forehead."

Jake ran his tongue over Ricky's shaft that terminated at his little
pucker.  He could feel Ricky's shaft pulsating as though it were struggling
to make itself grow even harder and thicker.  Since Enrique had returned,
Jake could tell that considerably more thick hair had grown in Enrique's
ass trench, and it felt so good on his tongue.  And in addition, Ricky now
had that wonderful masculine smell around his ass.

Jake found Enrique's asshole with his tongue and found that it was
literally open on its own as though it were beckoning for Jake's tongue to
enter.  As Jake pushed his tongue into Enrique's rectum, Enrique let out a
long sigh of pleasure.  Pulling off of Jake's tongue, Enrique moved back
and held his ass just over the tip of Jake's gorged penis.  Closing his
eyes and bending his head back, Enrique slowly lowered himself onto Jake's
penis.  It was one smooth, uninterrupted motion, and Enrique had sucked
into his rectum the whole length of Jake's cock.

Enrique leaned slightly forward and looked into Jake's eyes.  Enrique's
deep brown eyes were half closed, shaded erotically with those beautiful,
sensuous black eyelashes.  As he rose up and down on Jake's rod, he
continued to stare at Jake while he let saliva start to run out of his
slightly open mouth.  Saliva ran down his chin in a foamy stream.  It kept
coming and was running off of his chin and dripping onto the hair that
encircled Jake's navel.  As it continued to run steadily out of Enrique's
mouth, it became the most erotic thing that Jake had ever seen.  He
couldn't control himself and reached up and pulled Enrique down to him and
buried all of Enrique's mouth in his.  Enrique's saliva still ran.  It
filled Jake's mouth and ran down his throat, and ran down the side of his
head onto his pillow.

It was all just too much.  With an unusual lack of any warning, Jake's
orgasm suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks and his penis surged more
rapidly than he had ever remembered it doing, filling Enrique's rectum with
what felt like an endless stream of sperm.

Enrique pulled his head up, his face covered with saliva and sweat, which
was still dripping from his mouth.

Without hesitating, Jake lifted his legs high in the air.  Enrique plunged
his face into Jake's ass trench and flooded it with saliva.  When he then
mounted Jake and began fucking him, Jake watched Enrique's face as it
became more and more tortured looking with the orgasm coming closer and
closer.  Enrique's face was now covered not only with saliva, but with
sweat, which was pouring off of his chin into Jake's pubic hair.  Then
suddenly, Enrique let out a yell, pulled his throbbing cock out of Jake's
asshole, and let stream after stream of glistening white hot sperm shoot
onto Jake's mouth and face.  Enrique felt as though his orgasm would never
stop.  As it finally began to subside, however, he lowered himself down on
top of Jake, licking up his sperm off of Jake's face and kissing him
deeply.

They each lay there breathless, hot, and covered with sweat.  Enrique made
no move to roll off of Jake.  Jake soon was beginning to think that Enrique
was falling asleep.

"Ricky.  Ricky, are you awake?"

"I'm awake, Jake.  But I never want to get off of you.  I've missed you so
much.  And I've missed doing this with you so much, I really wanted to get
it on with you again in a really big way.  And we really did, didn't we
Jake?

"Oh, my little fucker!  How I love ya.  We'll git it on anytime ya want!
If ya want to go to sleep right here on my fuckin' chest, ya can jist go
ahead."

"Yeah, Jake.  That's what I want.  I want to be pressed up against your
skin when I wake up in the morning.

Soon, Enrique had fallen asleep and Jake rolled him off onto his back.
Jake still had his pants on down around his ankles and also his boots.
Taking everything off, he climbed back into bed and pulled Enrique up along
side of him so their bodies were pressed together.


Michael had given his approval without hesitation for Maggie to open up the
vacant wing of the house for Homer Kesselring.  Homer tried to resist the
move, but was at the same time fearful of his son, James' threat to have
him judged incompetent and sent to a nursing home.  He knew his son well
enough to be certain that James would put him in the cheapest unlicensed
home he could find, even if it were in some other part of the state.

Homer's landlady was willing to forgive the remainder of his lease, but he
insisted on paying out the full seven months that remained on it.  Maggie
protested since Homer surely was not in a position to lay out that much
money.  But Homer did so, nevertheless.

After Homer's furniture and other belongings were moved into his new
quarters, Maggie busied herself with hanging pictures, dusting and
replacing Homer's fine collection of books in his bookcases, and generally
arranging Homer's fine antique furniture so they would be placed and
displayed in the most artistic and decorative way for all to see and
admire.

After viewing the arrangement in his new living room, Homer said, "Maggie,
you people surely do have a knack for interior decorating."

Maggie, putting a curious expression on her face as she worked, said, "What
people is that, Homer?"

"You know, you people."

"Oh, you mean us homos," Maggie said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"That's right.  Us people do have a flair for making things pretty.  That's
our feminine side!"

"Maggie, I didn't mean that you . . . ."

"That's alright, Homer.  I know what you meant.  I'm not sensitive," said
Maggie as she stepped back to make sure she had hung a group of framed
prints so the grouping was symmetrical.  "Now look at that, Homer.  They're
such lovely prints that they need to be put in a place like that where they
show.  You had them all hung back in a corner where no one could see them.
One has to hang one's pictures artistically, not just any old slap dash
way."

"Yeah, that's nice, Maggie," said Homer, who was genuinely impressed.

"Now this beautiful desk, for example.  It has such lovely carving, with
sweet delicate little rosettes carved at the top.  And just look at those
darling drawer pulls.  See how it all shows now?  In your other place, one
had to squeeze around behind that lounge chair in order to see it and
admire it.

"It all looks pretty good, Maggie.  I'm going to find a way to thank you
some day for all you've done."

"Nonsense, ducky!  You just stay there and look out the window over the
range land for a few minutes.  Isn't it the most peaceful view you've ever
seen?  I have the kettle on, and I'll be right back with some tea.  And
then we'll talk about how to display some of your other things to
advantage.

After supper, while Maggie was cleaning up the kitchen, Homer rolled his
wheelchair out to the front veranda where Karl was sitting alone and
enjoying one of his English cigarettes.  Karl stood up and invited Homer to
join him.  Rolling the wheelchair close to his own chair, Karl offered
Homer a cigarette.

Homer's eyes brightened as he reached and pulled a cigarette out of the
box.  "Thank you so very much.  It's been so long since I enjoyed a good
cigarette.  I wasn't allowed to smoke in that apartment I was in.  Even if
I sat by the window and blew the smoke outside, the old lady would somehow
smell it and come rapping at my door screaming at me that she could smell
cigarette smoke."

As Karl leaned over and lit Homer's cigarette, he said, "Maggie's told us a
good deal about you, Homer, and the difficulties you've had with your
family.  We're all glad that you agreed to come and live with us.  I think
you'll really like it here.  I'm from New York City, you know, and this
wonderful place is a big change from the City.  But I love every minute I'm
here."

"I know I'll like it," said Homer.  "I'll be able to have Maggie visit me
every day now."

"Maggie's a wonderful, kind person, Homer."

"I know.  I know that he's one of them who . . . you know . . . likes boys.
And before Maggie, I never ran into any of them kind.  And I hoped I never
would.  But you know, Maggie's a real human being.  I even saw him cry
once.  And he feels pain, just like I feel pain.  I never knew that people
like him would ever think of caring for people like me, and also want to
help people like me.  But, Karl, I love his heart.  And I love his gentle,
reassuring touch when I need it.  I love him more than I love my own son.
Far more.

Karl smiled and said, "I'm glad to hear you say that, Homer, because Maggie
has not had a good life herself.  She has done nothing but serve and help
others-very willingly, I may add.  But she's lonely, and always has been.
Helping others and bringing joy to others is what Maggie really lives for."

"Karl, there's something I haven't told Maggie," said Homer.  "As you can
see I had a rather severe stroke a few years ago that put me in this
wheelchair.  But there's something more serious.  I have a bad heart.  And
the doctors have told me that the prognosis is not good.  They say there is
nothing they can do for me short of a heart transplant.  And I'm too old to
go through that.  As I said, I haven't told Maggie because I know it would
worry her."

Karl and Homer sat quietly and smoked a second cigarette and stared out
over the grassland.


Mark had called Corky every night for the past three nights.  He told of
all the progress he had made in getting himself set up as a private
investigator.  He also was successful in talking Corky into going up to San
Antonio and giving the job as Mark's assistant a try.  Corky had suffered
enough disappointments in his life that he knew this decision could also,
and very easily be another wrong one.  But that old saw, "Nothing ventured,
nothing gained," kept ringing in his head.  There certainly was no future
left for him there at the ranch.  "Why not grasp at this straw," he kept
telling himself.  Besides, there just didn't seem to be a reason that Corky
could think of to let this wonderful man slip away from him.  There just
could be no possible reason for him to do that.

The morning after Corky gave his affirmative answer to Mark, he found
Michael and Karl on their front verandah drinking their morning coffee.

"I need to talk to you if I may," said Corky.

"Sure, Corky.  Come on up here and have a seat.  Here, let me pour you a
cup of coffee," said Michael.

"Thanks, Michael.  I guess I'll just come to the point.  I'm gonna give my
notice.  I'm going up to the big city, San Antonio, and work for a guy
who's opening a private investigator business.  He used to be a Texas State
Trooper."

Karl said, "Oh, Corky, we know who that is.  We all know about him because
we all got a big eye-full when you two got up and came out for breakfast
that morning.  Since you two are going to work together, I assume you're
going to live together."

"That's right.  He's got a big beautiful apartment full of books and
trophies and stuff.  He's even got some college degrees.  It's all kind of
out of my league.  Sometimes I wonder why he wants me to be in that world
with him."

"That's simple," Michael said.  "He obviously loves you.  The power of love
can move mountains and make strange things happen, they say.  Look at Karl
and me.  I've was born and raised right here out in the country.  You know
the old saying, 'Old ranchers have cow shit running through their veins.'
And that's probably true.  And Karl here, he was born and raised in the big
city and spent most of his life up in New York City.  It was pretty
unlikely that we'd get together.  The last thing I ever thought I would do
was to get with a city guy, and the last thing Karl thought he'd ever do
was to get with a down south country guy like me.  But none of that
mattered to us.  We got together because we liked and respected each other,
and we came to love each other.  So don't you worry about Mark's education
and his trophies and all that.  Just be yourself.  That's what he loves.
Just you.  Nothing else.  It doesn't matter what else you have or don't
have."

"I know you're right, Michael.  I guess it doesn't matter anyway, because
I've made up my mind to do it.  I'm giving you three weeks notice, if
that's okay.  I'll be moving up there on December first.  This should give
you enough time to find a replacement for me."

After the three of them stood up and hugged, Michael and Karl stood there
smiling and looking after Corky as he walked back to the bunk house
whistling a happy tune.


That afternoon, Jeff and Paul had no classes and went back to their
apartment for lunch at noon.  Paul had picked up a nice ripe muskmelon at
the market on the way home and decided to make a fruit salad for lunch.  As
he stood at the counter, cutting up the melon, some pineapple, green grapes
and bananas, Jeff sat at the kitchen table watching Paul's backside.  There
was something about Paul's buns that were so sensuous and round as they
moved when Paul would shift his weight from one leg to the other.  His
light tan pants were just tight enough to accent their smooth firmness and
were tucked tightly into the crack between his buns.

Jeff reached over and ran his hands over Paul's buns and said merely,
"Oooooooooo!"

"Watch out!" warned Paul.  "I've got a sharp knife in my hand, and when I'm
teased, I'm not responsible for what I might do!"

In kind of a baby talk voice, Jeff said, "Aw, Paul, can I kiss them?
Please?"

"Yes.  But only if you promise to be very gentle and don't bite like you
did the other night."

"I promise," said Jeff as he reached around and loosened Paul's belt and
pulled down his zipper.  He then pulled Paul's pants down a little and let
them fall down around his boots.  Taking each bun in his hand, he ran his
tongue over it and kissed it gently.  "See, Paul, no biting.  I'm just
licking up all that good taste.  Yummy!"

"Alright, you've now got my cock hard," said Paul.  "It's hard and it's
hanging right over the fruit salad.  You don't mind a little pre-cum on
your fruit salad, do you?"

"Huh!?"

"Just kidding, my love.  But it's gonna happen if you don't do something
about it."

Swinging around to face Jeff, a long, elastic string of semen dangled from
the pee hole at the end of Paul's hard penis.  "If you don't catch it,
Jeff, it's gotta go somewhere."

Jeff got down on his knees and turned his head upward, allowing Paul's long
string of pre-cum to dangle into his mouth.

"Now if you'll put the knife down, Paul," said Jeff, "I'll suck out the
rest of that sweet thick cream sauce you have stored up in there."

Paul threw the knife into the sink and quickly removed his shirt.  He
motioned for Jeff to move on over closer to the pantry door, on which was a
full-length mirror.  "Jeff, you know how I love to stand sideways naked in
front of that mirror and watch you run my cock down your throat.  Get out
of your clothes, too.  I love to watch us both naked in the mirror."

It was a sight they both loved.  They both stood completely naked, except
for their cowboy boots that came about half-way up their calves and their
cowboy hats.  They were naked, except for boots and hats.  What a sexy
sight, they both thought!  Jeff could watch himself sucking on Paul's penis
through the corner of his eye.  Just as Paul could feel his balls pulling
up into his body and the muscles at the base of his penis starting to
clutch tightly, Jeff began sucking faster and faster.  He was sucking so
fast, in fact, that his mouth accidentally came off of Paul's penis just as
Paul's sperm began to shoot.  Stream after stream sprayed all over Jeff's
face as Jeff fought to re-grasp the penis with his mouth without success.

Then there was a knock at the door.  Jeff fell backward on his ass, and
Paul shouted, "Who is it?"

They heard Brian shouting back, "It's Brian and Josiah.  We need to talk
with you if it's convenient."

Paul and Jeff were both greatly weakened by what they had just done.

Paul looked at Jeff and said, "Well what do we do now?"

Jeff thought for a few seconds and then responded, "Aw, shit, Paul.  Brian
and Josiah are lovers, and they know that you and I are lovers.  Go ahead
and let them in.  They'll probably be shocked at first, but they'll get
used to it.  Go on.  Let them in."

Paul, with his penis still almost as hard as it was, went to the door and
opened it.  Brian and Josiah stood almost paralyzed at the sight of Paul
standing there with a semi-hard-on and Jeff sitting behind him on the floor
with sperm splattered on his face and neck.

Paul waved his arm toward the room.  "Come on in, you two.  Sorry, but we
were just finishing up with something.  You know all about that, don't
you?"

Brian stammered, "Well, ya, I guess so."

"Don't just stand there guys, come on in and have a seat.  I was just
fixing a fruit salad for lunch.  How about joining us," said Paul.

"Well, I don't know," Brian said as he and Josiah sat down next to each
other on the sofa.

Jeff stood up and grabbed a large section of paper towel and started wiping
the sperm off of his face.  "I'm sorry, guys, that we weren't dressed, but
you know how it is.  We weren't expecting guests."

Jeff and Paul then sat down, still naked on the floor in front of Brian and
Josiah.  "What brings you two all the way up here to Austin today?" asked
Jeff.

Brian explained that, since he and Josiah did not want to get split up when
Brian had to re-enter school in January, Jake had suggested that Josiah
apply for admission to the University as a new Freshman inasmuch as Josiah
had earned a State High School Equivalency Certificate.  They were visiting
Jeff and Paul in order to see if they could lend their assistance in
getting Josiah accepted.

"Come on, Paul," Said Jeff.  "Let's get our clothes on.  This is a major
thing-a real serious thing-we're going to discuss here, and we need to not
be sitting around naked like this."

After they got back into their clothes, Paul said, "I always knew that Jake
was the heart and soul of that ranch.  I might have known it would be Jake
who got you thinking about this.  Listen, you guys, Jeff and I have the
afternoon free.  And let's march right on over to the admissions office
right now where I'll introduce you to those people and where you can fill
out an application and arrange for an interview."

Josiah said, "Oh, I don't know if I can do any interview.  I'm really
scared about all this.  I don't know if I want to go through with this.  I
wish Jake could have come with us and go with us to the admissions office."

Paul looked at Jeff and said, "Well, Josiah, I'm not sure that he would do
you any favors.  He might just say something to the admissions officer
like, 'I want to get my friend, Josiah, here into the fuckin' University.
He'll be a good student and all that shit.  Give him a fuckin' application
so we can get this fuckin' show on the road.'"

Everyone started laughing, knowing that Paul was right.  As much as they
all loved old Jake, he would have been a disaster.

When the four arrived at the admissions office, they were able to get an
immediate interview with an admissions counselor.  Brian, Jeff, and Paul
waited outside.  It was a twenty minute interview and they all held their
breath.  When it was over, Josiah and the counselor emerged into the
waiting room.  Josiah had to pee so badly that he quickly disappeared into
the restroom.

The counselor told Josiah's three friends that he found Josiah very
interesting and believed him to be a bright young man who, if he applied
himself, would be very successful in college.  He assured everyone that
Josiah's application would be considered by the Admissions Committee within
the next few days, and Josiah would be notified.

Brian and Josiah left immediately so they would get back to the ranch
before dark.  As Brian drove, Josiah turned to him and said, "Brian, I was
shaking a lot in that interview, but it wasn't too bad.  I could answer
every question he asked me.  He told me that he thought I would like it
there at school and that I could come in and talk to him if I had any
problems that were bothering me anytime.  He was real nice."

Brian smiled.  "I think, Josiah, that it looks pretty certain that you'll
be accepted.  And I feel like kissing you."

Brian suddenly pulled off to the side of the road, turned off the ignition,
and they both fell into each other's arms and kissed deeply and
passionately.  Tears of joy were running down their cheeks when they
kissed, then laughed, and then kissed some more.


Since there was no more room in the house, Clayton had been staying in one
of the empty bunkhouse rooms.  He had insisted that, if he was going to
remain for any length of time at the ranch, he should be given a job and
paid for it.  Michael agreed and asked Jake to assign some duties to him.
Clayton was assigned to keep the horse barn clean.  It was not an easy job.
But any job was fine with Clayton as long as he was paid on time and in the
agreed amount.  He had become very prideful of his ability to make his own
way and support himself.  His main purpose, however, in being at the ranch
was to learn more about his father.  He took every chance he could get to
talk to Michael and anyone else on the ranch who had anything to say about
Jared Walker.

One evening after supper, Michael invited Clayton to sit with him on the
front verandah.  Michael seemed to have as many questions as did Clayton.

"Clay, I'm sure you've gathered that your father and I were never close,"
began Michael.  "You could probably say we were estranged.  We were rarely
in contact with each other.  Our father, for reasons of his own, did not
include your father in his will, and consequently, he has done all sorts of
foolish things to either force me to turn over some our father's assets to
him or to just harm me or the ranch in some way as a means of misdirected
revenge."

Clayton said, "I've heard that he wasn't a very nice person.  He sure
wasn't very nice to me."

"I never knew that your father ever married, Clay."

"Yeah, he was married to my mom just long enough to get her pregnant and
then took off.  When I saw him up at the prison, he told me he didn't know
she was pregnant and didn't know he had a son.  You know, Michael, I always
had all sorts of dreams and fantasies all my life about having a dad and
what my real dad was like.  I always wanted to find him some day, but my
mom would never let me try.  So when I got out of high school, I just took
off and decided to look for him.  And when I found him, he's nothing but a
criminal.  Michael?  Can you tell me why he's in prison?"

"Oh, Clayton."  Michael hesitated and shifted in his seat.  "Your dad went
to prison because he was involved with some sort of illegal operation.  I
don't have the details."

"Michael, did it have anything to do with children?"

Michael looked startled at the question.

Then Clayton said, "Some of the guys the other night at supper were telling
me he was running some club where they forced little boys to have sex with
adults.  Please tell me the truth, Michael.  Is that what he was doing?"

Michael hesitated again, and then said, "Yes, it was, Clay."

Clayton just looked out over the range.  There was strain on his face and
Michael could see his jaw muscles flexing.  "Clay, please.  You shouldn't
dwell on that.  You've gone as far as you can go now to learn about your
father.  Aside from your mother, I'm the nearest kin you have, along with
your cousin Jeff.  We'd like to be your family, Clay.  Please, Clay.  The
past is the past.  Let us be your family."

As Clayton continued to stare out toward the horizon, his eyes filled with
tears.  Michael reached out, put his arm around Clayton's shoulders and
drew him near.  With Clayton's head resting on Michael's shoulder, they sat
for a long time in silence and watched the sun slowly disappear over the
horizon.


It had now been a week since Homer Kesselring had moved to the ranch.
Maggie had spent practically every evening playing Gin with Homer,
graciously allowing Homer to win almost every game.

One evening when Maggie came into his room, Homer was holding Roman's
violin.

"Come over here, Maggie.  Please take this," Homer said, holding the violin
with outstretched arms.

"Why should I take it?"

"Maggie, I'm an old fart.  You know that.  And I'm a foolish old fart.  I
want you to have Roman's violin and I want you to play it.  Go ahead,
Maggie.  Take it!"

"I can't do that, Homer."

"I don't know what got into me Maggie.  There really weren't no reason at
all why you shouldn't play that violin.  I been thinking.  Roman loved that
instrument.  I think he'd be sad if he knew it was just sitting around,
getting out of tune, and collecting dust.  I want you to play it, Maggie.
It would make me very happy to hear it played again, especially by someone
as dear to me as you are."

"As dear to me as you are."  Those words brought a lump to Maggie's throat.
Her eyes began to feel hot as tears began to fill them.  "Homer," she said.
"Do remember what Roman used to play that might have been your favorite?"

"Well, Maggie, the song he used to play so beautifully, but was so sad, was
Lara's Theme from Dr. Zhivago.  Do you remember that?  Do you think you
could play that?"

"Yes, I remember it, and I think I can learn it."

The next morning, Maggie drove into Goliad and bought Lara's Theme
transcribed for violin.  That evening, she practiced it in her room for
about two hours.  She found that it was not only a fairly easy piece to
learn, it was indeed a very sad melody, especially when she played it
slowly and softly.

On the following night, Maggie entered Homer's room with Roman's violin all
tuned and ready to go.  Homer sat up straight in his wheelchair with a
large smile on his face.  "Maggie!" he shouted, "I'll bet you have a piece
to play for me.  I can tell from the look in your eyes!"

"I'm indeed ready, Homer.  You know, I never got a chance to finish "The
Flower Song" that I started last week when your son came in and interrupted
us.  So I'm going to play it all the way through for you this time, and
it's going to sound a lot better on this wonderful violin of Roman's."

Maggie stood in one corner of the room, while Homer parked his wheelchair
in the opposite corner.  When the first notes sounded, Homer leaned his
head back and closed his eyes, keeping a faint smile on his face.  When the
piece was finished, Homer clapped his hands and cried, "Bravo!"  Maggie did
a flourish with her bow and bowed deeply as she held the violin high in the
air.

"Now, Homer, for a special treat."  Placing the violin under her chin,
Maggie started very softly with "Lara's Theme."  Homer nodded his head
slightly in approval and once again put his head back and closed his eyes.
This time the smile on his face was even broader.  Maggie played the piece
all the way through slowly and very softly.  Then she repeated it, this
time with a little more vigor and passion.

When Maggie had completed the piece, she stood smiling at Homer.  But Homer
remained still, the smile only slightly faded on his face.

"Homer?  Did you like it?  I'm sure it wasn't as good as the way Roman
would play it."

There was no answer.  Maggie walked slowly across the room and, leaning
over, took hold of Homer's hand.  It felt lifeless.  Kneeling beside his
wheelchair, she whispered, "Homer.  Homer."  Looking at his face, she
thought that she had never seen Homer look so relaxed and at ease.  But he
was gone.  Maggie dropped her face into Homer's lap, kissing his hands, and
wept quietly.


This is Chapter 28 of "My Father, My Son."  Comments and suggestions are
welcome, and will be responded to.

Tom Borden
Tombor99@excite.com