Date: Fri, 1 Nov 2002 09:33:15 -0800 (PST)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@yahoo.com>
Subject: "My Father, My Son"  71st Installment

This is Chapter 71, a continuation of "My Father, My Son."  All the
conditions, warnings, and disclaimers listed at the beginning of the early
chapters of this series apply.  All comments are welcome, constructive or
destructive.

Send to:   Tom Borden,   tombor99@yahoo.com


AUTHOR'S NOTE: My heartfelt thanks go to the real-life Steve for his
gracious help and guidance in the writing of this chapter.


My Father, My Son
Chapter 71

As the morning sun blazed into Jake's room, he awoke to find Jumper sitting
asleep in the chair.  As Jake called quietly, "Jumper?"  he awoke and
looked bleary eyed at Jake.

"Why are ya over there sleepin'?" Jake asked.

"I didn't have a very good night.  I was afraid I would wake you.  I had
bad dreams."

"What kind of dreams?

Jumper got up and sat on the side of the bed next Jake.  "I kept dreaming I
heard my brother, Joe, screaming and crying.  And then I looked in his room
and saw my dad fucking him and slapping him in the face and yelling at him.
Every time I went back to sleep, I dreamed that same thing."

Jake put his arm around Jumper's shoulder and said, "I told ya I was gonna
find out what happened to him if I could.  Now let's git our fuckin'
clothes on and git some breakfast."

After breakfast, Jake said he was going over to the house and talk to some
people.  Jumper said he thought he would go over to the horse barn and see
Lady Pokey again.  Jake said, "That's a good idea, cowboy.  You jist talk
to her awhiles and pat her on the neck and on the rump.  Yer her master
now.  Now it's time fer the two of ya to git to know each other better."

When Jake arrived at the house, he found Mark and Corky having breakfast at
the kitchen table.  Enrique and Noah were just getting up to go outside.

"Hey, you two," said Jake as he sat down opposite Mark and Corky.  "I know
yer in the spyin' business, and I think I got ya a pretty fuckin' good case
to solve."

Mark said, "Well, we're in the private investigator business, if that's
what you mean."

"Oh, yeah!  That's what I mean," said Jake.  "Ya know little Jumper got a
little brother that was bein' abused by their dad jist like Jumper was.
But one day, the brother disappeared, and Jumper thinks he was murdered, or
somethin.  He thinks' his fuckin' old man done it.  I told Jumper that
maybe we could find out fer sure.  Do ya think that's somethin' ya can work
on?"

"Tell me a little bit more about these two boys and where they lived,"
asked Mark.  "Also, do you know what the father's name is?"

"Well, Mark, Jumper's real name is Daryl Thomas, and his brother's name is
Joe.  I think they lived over there in Goodland someplace.  The old man's
last name is JacobThomas, and he works for some fuckin' used car place.  Do
ya think there's anything ya can do?"

Corky said, "Jake, you know if it's a case of a missing person, it should
be reported to the local police, and they'll have to do the investigation.
At your behest, though, we can also assist by conducting our own
investigation."

"Well, I guess so," said Jake, "but Jumper thinks little Joe may have got
hisself murdered."

Mark said, "Well, if it turns out Joe was murdered, there would have to be
a body.  And then a murder charge might be levied against his father if
there's enough evidence against him.  But until then, it will just be a
simple missing persons case."

Jake said, "Do ya think ya can work on this a little for Jumper's sake?"

"We'll look into it and make some inquiries when we get back to San
Antonio, Jake."


When Mark and Corky returned to San Antonio, Corky urged Mark to think
about the Joe Thomas case.  "Mark, it's not good for us to sit around home
too much.  Why don't we get started looking for the boy right away?"

Mark knew that getting back heavily into work was going to be the best
thing for him.  Early the next morning, they both drove over to Goodland.
Looking in the phone book, they found no listing for Jacob Thomas, and
decided to go around to the several used car dealerships in the area.  They
had no luck until they visited the "Ugly Duckling" lot.  They were able to
locate the manager, Henry Tatum, and were invited into his office.

Showing his credentials, Mark said, "Mr. Tatum, we're trying to locate a
Mr. Jacob Thomas and would like to talk with him."

"Why do you want to talk with him," asked Tatum.  "What's he done?"

"Well, we don't know if he's done anything, really," replied Mark.  "Do you
know his two sons?"

"Nope.  Never seen 'em.  I know he has a couple of boys, but he never talks
about 'em.  Why do ya need to know?"

Corky said, "A family member believes that one of the boys is missing, and
we've been asked to investigate the claim."

"Really?" said Tatum.  "He never mentioned anything like that.  But, as I
say, he never talks about 'em."

Mark said, "Is Mr. Thomas here?  As I said, we'd like to talk with him."

"Nope.  He got off duty about ten minutes ago."

"Could you tell us where he lives?"

"Nope.  Never asked.  But I think I know where ya could likely find him
now.  When he leaves here, he usually stops off at the Corn Huskers Tavern.
It's just down this road at the edge of town.  I hope there's nothin'
wrong.  As I say, he don't say much."

After thanking the manager, Mark and Corky drove to the Corn Huskers
Tavern.  When they entered the smoke-filled room, they were hit by a strong
odor of stale beer.  On the juke box was a typical "you-done-me-wrong"
country song being sung by a sultry voiced female.  Several tables were
occupied by sleepy looking cowboy types with hats.

Going to the bar, Mark asked the bartender, "We're looking for a guy whose
name is Jacob Thomas.  Do you know if he's here?"

The bartender said with a jerk of his head toward the end of the bar,
"Jacob Thomas?  Yeah.  He's the guy with the ugly ass puss sitting alone
down there at the other end."

Jacob Thomas was a large ape of a man.  He had huge arms and shoulders and
wore his dusty blond hair in a short pony tail.  He had a short-cropped
beard, which was a mixture of gray and orangish red.  His scowling face was
almost perfectly round, and he was indeed ugly.

Corky whispered to Mark, "Man, he IS ugly, and he looks meaner than a
rattlesnake in heat."

Approaching Jacob, Mark extended his hand and said, "Mr. Thomas, my name is
Mark McLeod, and I'm wondering if we could talk to you for a few minutes.
Could we just sit over here at this table?"

"What d'ya wanna talk to me about?  Whatever it is, you can say it right
here."

Using a ploy that he and Corky had talked about earlier, Mark said, "Your
son, Joe, has not been attending school for some time now, and we're
interested in knowing why."

"Who the fuck are you?" asked Jacob.  "It ain't none of yer business."

Mark brought out his credentials and, showing them to Jacob, said, "We've
been asked to investigate truancy among the students, and Joe has not been
heard from for some time.  You know that the law requires that children
attend school at least until they're sixteen."

Jacob picked up his bottle of beer and drained it.  Then he said, "He's
gone to live with his Aunt up in the panhandle.  They move around a lot and
I don't keep no track of him."

"Why not?" asked Corky.  "He's your son."

Jacob got up off his bar stool and said, "I don't like talkin' to you.
What happens in my family ain't no business of yer's!  You go back and tell
yer school people that my kid's doin' fine and to keep their fuckin' snotty
noses outta my business."  Jacob, who towered over both Mark and Corky,
threw some change down on the bar and walked out.

Corky said, "Well, that didn't get us very far."

Mark walked back to where the bartender was working and asked, "Sir, do you
know if Mr. Thomas lives around here?"

"Yeah.  He just lives down the road a piece."

"Do you have his address?"

"No, but you just go down the road about a half mile, he lives in that
green house on the right.  You can't miss it.  Hey, is Jacob in some sort
of trouble?"

Mark waved his hand and said, "No, no.  No trouble."

As they walked out, Corky said to Mark, "While you were talking, I looked
out the window and saw Thomas driving down the other way toward the car
dealership."

Mark said, "Good.  That'll give us a good opportunity to take a look at
where he lives.  We just want to see if we might be able to see anything
suspicious."

As they drove up to the green house, which sat alone, surrounded by fields
of weeds in which lay a number of old tires and pieces of discarded
machinery, they sat in the car and stared at the place.  Very soon, a man,
shirtless with clothes slung over his arm, came out of the house and got
into his car, a late model Mercedes.  A woman with dyed red hair stood in
the doorway in a housecoat that she held closed with one hand.  Mark and
Corky could tell that she was looking at them.  She had a scowl on her
face.  As her guest drove away, the woman walked over to Mark's car.

"Is there somethin' I can do fer ya?" said the woman with a cigarette
hanging unappealingly from her lips.  "I don't like strangers comin' on our
property.  So if you'll kindly git movin', I'd 'ppreciate it."

"Ma'am, we're just here to make our usual assessment for the County on your
property for tax purposes," said Mark, using another of his ploys.  "We
just need to look around.  It's just routine, and it won't take us long.
As we look around, can I ask you a couple of questions?"

"Alright," said the woman, "but make it snappy.  I ain't got all day."

"Mrs. Thomas, do you have a full basement under the house?"

"Hell, we ain't got no basement at all.  You can see the place is just
propped up on short brick pillars."

"Is there anything under the house?  Do you store anything under there?"

"Hell, I don't know.  I don't know what's under there."

"I see you're a gardener, Mrs. Thomas," said Mark, looking over at a large
plot of vegetables.

"Yeah.  Just tomatoes and pole beans."

"They look nice," said Corky.  "Are you the one who cultivates and
fertilizes it?"

"No.  That garden is my husband's.  He don't let nobody near it."

"Well, ma'am, if you don't mind, we'll just go ahead and look around for
ourselves," said Mark.  "Thanks."

After Mark and Corky had looked over the back yard, they came around to the
front.  Jacob was just getting out of his pickup truck.  "McLeod," said
Jacob.  "My I ask what yer doin' here?  Does this have something to do with
my son moving away.  I don't see what ya think yer snoopin' around here has
to do with that."

Jacob's wife, still clutching her housecoat closed said, "Jacob, these
people are here lookin' over the place fer taxes."

"Oh, I see," said Jacob, with anger now spreading over his ugly face.
Reaching into the back of his pickup truck, he took out a hunting rifle and
waved it threateningly at the two investigators.  "Tax men, eh?  Git back
in the house, Mona.  Me and them got to figure somethin' out."

As Mona scampered back into the house, Jacob advanced slowly toward Mark
and Corky.  "Tax men, huh?  What's yer game, anyhow?  Ya seem to change
jobs pretty fast."

"No, we're not tax men, Jacob," said Mark.  "Your wife misunderstood.  We
just want to know what happened to your son, Joe."

"I told ya," shouted Jacob, waving the rifle again.  "He ain't here, and
that's all you bastards need to know."

Well, where is he?" asked Corky.

I told ya that, too.  He's away from here.  Yer just gonna have to look fer
'im yerselfs.  Now git outta here.  I want you two off this property.  If I
ever see you snoopin' around here again, I'll shoot yer fuckin' balls off!"

Mark and Corky got back into their car and drove off.  Corky said, "I'm not
sure I want to see him again.  Maybe we ought to turn this over to the
police to handle."

"That's where I'm going right now," said Mark.  "We'll tell them all we
know about this case, including Jumper's fears that his father may have
killed Joe.  I'm also going to tell them that we are going to work with
them in the investigation."

Corky said, "Well, maybe the man is right.  Maybe Joe was sent off to live
with his aunt like he said."

"I don't believe that for a minute, Corky," said Mark.  "I'm not accusing
him of anything yet, but that son-of-a-bitch just has 'murderer' written
all over his ugly face.  I've seen plenty of murderers with no conscience
in my career.  And this fucker fits the mold!"


Steve and Caleb had set about planning the dinner for Terry Murdock.  They
wanted to invite several others to round out the party.  Terry's sexuality
had become obvious, and they believed that Michael, Karl, Jeff and Paul
would be suitable guests, as well as being a suitable age.  They also
thought about inviting Adriano and his father, Mario.  They could all drive
down together from Austin.

Steve needed to know the exact number he would be serving and asked Caleb
to give him the definite guest list.

"Okay, Steve," said Caleb.  "This is the final list.  Michael and Karl
won't be able to make it because they'll be in San Antonio looking over
some heifers.  Paul will be on a four-day field trip with his students
beginning that day.  So that leaves only Jeff and Adriano.  Adriano said
that his father has a new roommate and they will be tied up.  Adriano
sounded very vague about Mario's new partner.  He acted as though he didn't
want to talk about it."

Steve said, "So that leaves five of us.  I always like to see an even
number of people at a dinner party.  But we'll do fine with five.  Our
guest of honor is Terry Murdock, and I don't want too many people to
distract attraction from him."

The meat at the supermarkets in Goliad was not of the quality Steve was
hoping to find, and there was only one meat market in town.  But it, too,
was not of the highest quality.  Steve had heard Karl and Tony once talking
about a meat market in San Antonio that they believed was the best.  On the
day before the party, Steve drove up to take a look.

A large man with an English accent standing behind the counter greeted
Steve and asked if he could help him.  Steve said, "Hello.  I'm here on the
recommendation of Karl Oldenburg.  He told me you'd have what I'm looking
for."

"Ah, Karl!" said the man.  "How is the old chap?  You know, he and I come
originally from the same region . . . Chelmsford, north of London.  Is he
still down there on the Walker Ranch?"

"Yes, he's still there, and he's doing just fine."

"Karl used to come up a lot with the cook down there.  They wanted only the
best and, of course, that's all I have here.  What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm having a dinner party and I'm looking for a nice rack of lamb,"
said Steve.

"Oh, yes," said the man.  "If you'll excuse me, I'll go in the back and
find you the very best I have.  There's nothing too good for a friend of
Karl Oldenburg!"

A few minutes later, he emerged with a beautiful piece of meat on a sheet
of pink wrapping paper.  Holding it up, he said, "Now this rack is a rib
section taken from the foresaddle of the lamb.  It's perfect, don't you
think?"

Steve looked at it admiringly and said, "I couldn't ask for anything more
perfect.  We'll be serving five.  This looks about right."

"Oh, yes," said the man.  "Depending upon how much you serve to each guest,
you could probably make it go for seven."

"As the precious lamb was being wrapped, Steve said, "I can't thank you
enough, sir.  I'll give Karl your regards."

"Please do!  And tell him we miss him.  There aren't many English blokes
around this part of Texas, especially not many like him!"

On an impulse, before leaving San Antonio, Steve stopped in at Josky's
Department Store to look at their tableware.  The worn looking hard plastic
dishes that Caleb used would never do.  Before he left the store, he had
purchased eight complete place settings of plain white porcelain with a
thin silver line around the edges of the plates, as well as a large set of
wine glasses of various sizes.  The silver wear that Caleb had from his
marriage was really quite nice and would do well on the table.

On the day of the party, Steve set the table in the dining room and placed
in the middle a small bouquet of mixed wildflowers he had found growing on
the ground surrounding the parking lot.  Steve looked at it and, although
it was not the most beautiful bouquet he had ever seen, it would do.  At
least it was colorful.

Jeff and Adriano were the first to arrive, having driven down together from
Austin.  The four of them sat and chatted for a short while until Terry
arrived.  Everyone was introduced.  As Steve disappeared into the kitchen,
both Jeff and Adriano sat down, neither of them able to take their eyes off
of Terry.  While the others were in sport shirts and slacks, Terry would
never think of arriving at any function dressed in anything but a coat and
tie.  It was his training in the "service" of the nobility in England.  He
wore light gray trousers with a dark blue blazer.  A white handkerchief,
artfully folded by hand, peeked out of his breast pocket.  His necktie was
a lighter blue with a small conservative gold design.

Steve returned to the living room with a bottle of wine and, after asking
each of the guests to take a glass from the coffee table, poured a small
amount in each glass.

"Mmmmm," purred Terry.  "This is lovely.  California petite sirah, perhaps.
Or perhaps a Shiraz from Australia?"

"You were right the second time, Terry.  It's Rosemont Estate 1998 Show
Reserve.  A very good Shiraz, I think.  The grapes for it are grown in the
McLaren Vale region of Australia.  Longhorne Creek.  Personally, I've grown
very fond of several of the Shiraz wines from Australia.  As you can tell,
they're very much like petite sirah, but they have a bit of a chocolate
note to them, don't you agree?"

"Oh, definitely." Responded Terry, taking another sip.  "Delicious!"

Caleb, Jeff, and Adriano listened to this light repartee between Steve and
Terry, but did not add their own impressions, having thought better of it
since not one of them had the least knowledge of, or even the taste for
good wines.  It was clear from the very beginning that politeness and
manners would be the order of the evening.  Terry's air of courtliness left
no doubt that this would not be like a typical evening around the table out
on the ranch.

The meal, as well as the evening, however, promised to be an interesting
one.  Jeff and Adriano could hardly keep their eyes off Terry's fine figure
and extraordinarily handsome face.  And they were enchanted with his very
refined British accent, so soft and expressive.  They found it hard to
believe that Terry was in his fifties.  Terry explained his background
again briefly for the benefit of Jeff and Adriano.

After decanting more wine for each of the guests, Steve once again returned
to the Kitchen.  As he left, Adriano excused himself and followed Steve.

"Your guest, Steve!" said Adriano.  "He bowls me over!  You mean to tell me
he's just a waiter at the Goliad Inn?"

"That's right," said Steve with a smile.  "He's a beauty, isn't he?"

"Damn!  I can't keep my eyes off of him!" said Adriano.  "And I love to
hear him speak.  I keep wanting to ask him to come and lie on me so we can
talk!"

"Don't be crude, Adriano.  Here.  Help me carry these out to the table."

As appetizers, Steve had prepared baked stuffed Oysters Rockefeller, a
simple salad course of blue cheese and endive, served with a balsamic
walnut vinaigrette.  As the guests came into the dining room, Terry clapped
his hands together with delight at the sight of the table.

"What a beautiful table you set, Steve!" exclaimed Terry.  "And I haven't
enjoyed Oysters Rockefeller since I left Chicago!"

As everyone took their seats, Steve went around and poured the wine in
fresh glasses.  Terry raised his glass.  Sniffing it, he said, "Now don't
tell me.  Let me guess.  This is also a Shiraz."

"Right you are, my friend," said Steve.

"It's not the same, of course, as the Rosemont," said Terry thoughtfully,
taking a small sip.  "Ah!  I would put money on it being Penfolds
Proprietor's Grand Reserve!  Right?"

"Right again!" said Steve as he took his seat.

Terry was seated between Jeff and Adriano, with Caleb and Steve sitting
across.  Adriano turned to Terry and asked, "Where did you learn so much
about wine?"

Terry put his hand on Adriano's and said, "Experience, my boy!  Experience!
I was the sommelier on the estate I served on in England, and I was also
the sommelier for the Palmer House in Chicago."

"You were the somm . . . what?"

"The sommelier, Adriano.  In other words, I was the wine steward.  I had to
know about wines.  And I must say that I haven't met anyone in many years
who is as knowledgeable about wines as you, Steve.  And in addition, you
show that you have impeccable taste in wine."

Steve said, "I love wine, and I took a great interest in it back home in
New England.  And now I find myself in the business!"

Terry had a tendency to wave his fork about enthusiastically as he spoke.
"We at the Inn purchased a lot of wine from the Goliad Wine and Cheese Shop
through the years, but the selection was sometimes seriously wanting.  Now
that you are the proprietor, Steve, I shall make it a point to take a fresh
look at your stock."

It was obvious that Terry was enjoying the appetizers immensely.  He also
tipped his glass up taking the last drop and, with a flourish, set it down
and stared at it.  It was a clear signal that he wished to have his glass
refilled.

After every morsel had been enthusiastically devoured by all, Steve stood
up and whispered to Jeff, asking him if he would help clear the table and
help with the main course.  When the table had been cleared, Jeff stood in
the kitchen watching Steve serve up the plates.

"Steve, I am really impressed by your guest," said Jeff.  "I've eaten at
the Goliad Inn a number of times, but I don't remember seeing him."

"Well, Jeff," said Steve, "a good waiter always remains as inconspicuous as
possible.  He probably waited on your table, and you just never really
noticed him."

Jeff said, "I would say that Adriano is about to go out of his mind.  He
has hardly taken his eyes off of Terry.  I find it hard to keep my own eyes
off of him.  But I hate to stare.  I wonder if anything is going on beneath
the table between the two of them.  And I'll be willing to bet Adriano's
underwear is soaking wet at this point."

"Well, we'll just have to see if anything develops," said Steve.

Jeff looked down at the plates being filled.  "Steve, you have really gone
all the way with dinner.  I haven't enjoyed a meal like this in a long
time.  And I've never been a wine drinker, but I am really enjoying the
wine you're serving tonight.  I've tasted some of the home-made wine that
Jake makes from time to time, and I can't begin to describe how awful it
is."

"Jeff, the dinner isn't over yet.  This is the main course coming up.  I
know you're not an experienced waiter, but would you take these plates out
and serve them.  Just take one at a time, and remember to serve Terry
first, then Adriano, then Caleb, and then yourself.  I'll bring out my own
plate.  And one more thing, serve each person from the left."

The main course was rack of lamb with garlic smashed red bliss potatoes and
grilled asparagus as side dishes.  After the meal was served, Steve filled
a second wine glass at each place with 1997 Maglieri Shark Block Shiraz.
When Steve took his seat, Murdock leaned back in his chair and again
clasped his hands together as he surveyed the elaborate spread before him.

Terry marveled, "How beautiful that looks, Steve . . . almost too beautiful
to eat!"  Leaning forward, he gingerly cut into the lamb as though he were
cutting into a delicate flower.  "This is superb!"  Terry exclaimed as he
reached for his glass.  "Mmmmmm.  And I know this wine well!  One of my
favorites!  I'm sure you know, Steve, that Cellarmasters Wines won the
prestigious 1999 Visy Board Great Australian Shiraz Challenge!"

Steve smiled and said, "Yes, I'm very much aware of that, and it's one of
my favorites, also."

The main course was soon finished, and it was time for desert.  It would be
Cr^Ême Brulee.  As Jeff helped clear the table, Steve prepared the small
bowls of Cr^Ême Brulee by lightly torching each one, giving it a light
sugar crust.  It was served with yet another wine . . . a Canadian Ice
Wine.

When he was finished, Terry leaned back in his chair once again and said,
"Everything was positively superb.  There seems to be no end to your
talents, Steve.  This has been a remarkable dinner.  Everything was
perfect!"

"Coming from you, Terry," said Steve, "that is a high compliment, indeed,
and I thank you.  Caleb and I wanted nothing but the best for you, and I'm
so glad you liked it.  Now, if you gentlemen would like to retire to the
living room, we'll have a chance to enjoy a little libation there.

After everyone was settled, Steve brought out glasses and a bottle of
Courvoisier Millennium Cognac.

"Ah, Cognac!" said Terry.  "How perfect!"

Terry was seated on the sofa, and Adriano sat beside him.  Taking hold of
Terry's hand, Adriano looked at the elaborate silver ring on his finger.
Adriano said, "I've been admiring your ring, Terry.  Was it a family
piece?"

Terry put his other hand on Adriano's and held it there.  "No, it was a
gift from Barker just before we started on our ill-fated trip to see the
country."

Caleb said, "Terry, tell us if you care to.  Tell us about Barker.  What
was he like?"

"Oh, my!" sighed Terry.  "What isn't there to tell?  He of course was the
love of my life.  Barker was not an educated man in the formal sense.  But
he read constantly.  All the classic treatises like Voltaire, Carlyle,
Thomas More, Machiavelli, and the rest.  He particularly loved the novels
of Galsworthy, Wells, and Wilder.  I think his favorites were Joseph Conrad
and Melville.  We would discuss these books by the hour."

Jeff asked, "How did the two of you actually . . . you know . . . get
together?"

"Well, we often read to each other.  One night, Barker was reading to me
from "The Days of Our Years" by Pierre Van Paassen, and when he came to a
particularly touching passage, we both broke into tears, at the very same
time.  When he looked up at me with the dearest, sweetest look in his
tear-filled eyes, I instinctively got up and went to him and took him in my
arms.  We cried together.  We suddenly knew how much we loved each other.
Neither of us had any doubt of it.  We didn't speak of it.  We just knew."

Still clutching Terry's hand, Adriano said, "He must have been an
extraordinary person."

Terry squeezed back on Adriano's hand.  "He was more than extraordinary.  I
suppose he could be called a 'man for all seasons' in a way.  I considered
myself to be the luckiest man on earth.  To have found myself in 'service'
with this man was as though it had been divined by God.  Our sexual
relationship really didn't begin until some time later.  The Lord and Lady
were raising their young nephew after both his parents were killed in a
automobile accident.  But the boy had contracted leukemia and died when he
was only ten.  Barker had been particularly attentive to the boy, giving
him riding lessons and teaching him to enjoy reading.  The Cunninghams were
coming upon hard times and they were unable to afford a governess.  When
the boy died, Barker became despondent and was almost inconsolable.  One
night when I was visiting him in his room, reading to him something or
other, I could tell he was not listening.  With tears in his eyes, he told
me that being all alone in that attic room of his had become intolerable.
He had a recurring dream that the boy had died in his arms and there was
nothing he could do to save him.  He looked at me and pleaded with me to
stay with him that night.  He couldn't take another night alone."

Jeff looked at Terry as he talked, and couldn't hold back his own tears.
He kept his eyes on the floor so it wouldn't be noticed.

Terry continued.  "I did stay with him that night.  We slept in each
other's arms, and we kissed and we cried.  We told each other of the love
we had for each other and I did what I could to comfort him over the loss
of the boy.  We slept together many times after that, either in his room or
in mine.  In time, our passion for each other's bodies became so intense
that we engaged in every form of sexual love we could think of."

Caleb asked, "What was Barker like, Terry?  I mean what did he look like?"

Terry smiled and looked over at Adriano, still holding his hand.  "Adriano
here reminds me a little of him.  He was slender with dark, velvety skin.
He was English, but he could have been taken for an Italian.  He had dark
eyes, almost black, with long black eyelashes that made his eyes look
passionate and mysterious."

Holding Adriano's hand up close to his face, Terry looked at them long and
carefully and then said, "He had slender hands like this with long
beautiful fingers."

Terry suddenly let go of Adriano's hand and said he needed to use the
bathroom.  After he departed, the others sat silently with each showing
their own emotion in his face.  After a long while, Caleb said, "He's been
in there a long time.  I hope there's nothing wrong."

After awhile, Steve said, "Maybe we should check on him."

Caleb said, "Adriano, I think he's taken a liking to you.  Why don't you go
in and see how he is?"

Adriano walked down the hall and knocked lightly on the bathroom door.
"Terry?  Is anything wrong?" Adriano said softly.

When there was no answer, Adriano opened the door a little and saw Terry
standing with his hands on the lavatory, leaning over and crying softly.
Adriano walked up behind him and put his hands on Terry's waist.  Adriano
said quietly.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  We shouldn't have asked you to tell us
about it.  We're so sorry.  I can tell how much you loved Barker and I know
how hard it must be."

Without looking around, Terry said, "No, Adriano, I'm sorry.  I'm just a
silly, sentimental old guy.  I wanted to tell you about him.  I don't mind
crying when I think about him.  I cry often when I'm alone in bed, asking
God why he had to be taken from me.  My tears are for him, and I'm not
ashamed of them."

"Of course not," said Adriano.

As Terry turned and put down the toilet lid and sat on it, he said,
"Adriano, sit down there on the edge of the tub and talk with me for a
minute, won't you?"

"Of course," said Adriano as he sat down.

Wiping his eyes with a piece of toilet paper, Terry reached over and took
one of Adriano's hands in his and said, "Adriano, as I said, I'm never
ashamed to shed tears over Barker, but I'm afraid I've ruined a perfectly
delightful dinner party.  Everyone has been so dear.  Steve worked so hard
to make it nice."

Adriano stood up and said, "Stand up, will you, and let me hug you."  As
they stood wrapped in each other's arms, Adriano said, "You've ruined
nothing.  I think we've all fallen in love with you.  We're glad you so
openly shared with us the love you had for Barker.  It isn't as though we
haven't had our own loves and disappointments.  We understand.  We've all
cried through our own heartbreaks.  You're one of us.  We feel honored that
you shared yours with us."

They looked into each other's eyes as their lips gently touched in a warm
kiss.  Adriano said, "Yes, I feel honored to know you.  And I know I'll go
home tonight wanting to see you again.  I know I could never give you what
Barker gave you, but I don't think I've made any secret tonight of the fact
that I would like to be close to you."

Terry looked at Adriano with smile and said, "You're a dear man, Adriano.
Perhaps we can see each other again."  Kissing Adriano one more time on the
lips, Terry said, "I think we'd better re-join the others now.  I've been
gone long enough."

As they walked back into the living room, Adriano thought to himself, "Here
I am wanting the most wonderful, erudite man I've ever known, while my own
father is shacked up with a red-neck, long-haired, tatooed biker!  What's
happening here?"

Everyone stood up when Terry came back into the room.  Steve went up to him
and put his arm around his shoulder and said, "I hope you're okay, my
friend.  Go ahead and sit down and let me fill up your glass with some more
Cognac."

"That would be lovely," said Terry, as he patted the sofa cushion beside
him as a signal for Adriano to sit by him.  "I'm sorry for the long
bathroom visit.  I guess I just needed a few minutes by myself."

Everyone could tell from the redness of Terry's eyes what had happened.
"That's okay, Murdock," said Caleb.  "We all have our moments.  God knows
I've had mine!"

Soon the conversation centered on Jeff's and Adriano's experiences and
activities at the University in Austin.  Also, Terry asked Steve to tell
about what brought him down to Texas and about how he was re-building the
Goliad Wine and Cheese Shop business.  It was now close to midnight, and
everyone was finishing up the evening with some very strong coffee.  Jeff
and Adriano had planned to drive back to Austin that night, but because of
the lateness of the hour, they decided to drive out to the ranch and stay
there for the night.

After saying their goodnights to Caleb and Steve, Terry and Adriano stood
out in front while Jeff went to fetch the car.  Adriano took Terry's hands
and said, "I had a wonderful evening getting to know you.  You're like no
one I have ever met.  Please.  Could I call you, and perhaps we could get
together again?  I'm not as stupid as I must have seemed tonight."

Terry took the initiative this time and took Adriano in his arms.  As they
kissed lightly, he said, "You didn't seem stupid, Adriano.  And I'm sure
you're not.  And yes, I would really like to have you call me sometime.
I'd like to get together with you again.  You can just call the Goliad Inn.
I have a room there."

As Jeff and Adriano drove off towards the ranch, Jeff said, "I could see
how interested you were in Terry.  I hope you two can get together
sometime.  He's such a fine man.  You couldn't do better than to have him
as a good friend."

Adriano leaned way back in his seat and sighed, "Jeff, I'm in love.  I'm so
God-damned in love I don't know what to do.  I've never in my life met
anyone like him."

"I assume you found him alright when you went after him in the bathroom."

"Oh yeah.  He was alright.  He was fine.  He just got a little emotional
while he was telling us about Barker.  I found him in there crying.  God,
Jeff!  How I want that man!"

Several days later, a small package arrived for Caleb and Steve.  Caleb
told Steve to open it.  It was from Terry Murdock . . . a beautifully bound
book entitled, "Famous Recipes from the Stately Homes of England."  With it
was a short letter, which read: "My deepest and humblest thanks to both of
you for a perfectly marvelous dinner and a delightful evening.  Thank you
also for introducing me to your other two guests.  I surely should have
known your friends would be as intelligent and dear as the both of you.  I
hope that you will soon be my guests for dinner at the Inn.  It will be a
great pleasure to see you again.

"Sincerely, your humble servant, Terry Murdock"


For several days following the dinner party, Adriano thought about little
else but Terry Murdock.  Such a perfectly gorgeous man!  He had never
before been so completely overwhelmed by the beauty and personality of a
man.  He lay in his bed each night running his hands over his body,
fantasizing that they were Terry's hands.  He felt hopelessly in love.  He
would stroke his penis, imagining it was Terry's mouth slowly bringing him
to orgasm.  He would have imaginary conversations with Terry, telling him
how much he loved him.  His orgasms, he thought, were the best he ever had,
imagining that he was sending his sperm into Terry's body.  Then tasting
his own sperm, he imagined it to be Terry's.

One evening, his father, Mario, asked Frack if he would go with him to
visit Adriano.  He was determined to have Adriano accept Frack.  He knew
that if his son would make an effort to get to know Frack, he would like
him.

That evenng, as Adriano lay in his bed with his naked body stretched out,
he once again imagined that Terry was lying there with him.  As he stroked,
he suddenly thought he smelled a strange smell.  He thought it smelled like
smoke.  He got up and checked the stove in the kitchen.  When he found that
nothing was burning, he went back to his bed.  Then he could see that the
room was beginning to get smoky.  But he had no idea where it was coming
from.  He went to the door and opened it.  The hallway was dense with smoke
and, and as he slammed the door closed, he began to cough and choke.  He
ran back to the bedroom and climbed quickly into his briefs.  After getting
a wet washcloth from the bathroom, he held it over his nose and mouth as he
went back to the door and opened it.  The smoke was acrid and dense and he
could see a faint red glow down at the end of the hall where the stairway
was.  He tried to make his way through the smoke, but was unable to go far
before the heat of the flames turned him back.

When Mario and Frack arrived at Adriano's apartment house, they immediately
saw flames through the window of one of the apartments.  Mario screamed,
"My God!  Adriano!"

Frack said, "Is that your son's apartment?"

Mario yelled, "No!  His is the one next door to that one!"

Frack pulled out his cell phone and yelled, "Here, Mario, dial 911!  And
tell them to hurry!"

Frack ran toward the building.  Smoke was now beginning to flow out of the
front door.  Several residents were running out, choking and coughing, but
Adriano wasn't with them.  Wrapping his bandana over his face, Frack dashed
into the smoked filled lobby and, finding the stairway, he inched his way
up.  At the top of the stairs, he was confronted with a virtual wall of
fire.  Running back down, he broke into one of the first floor apartments.
He grabbed a large towel and drenched it with water.  He also poured water
over his body so his clothing was wet.  With the towel wrapped around his
head, he made another attempt to get to the top of the stairs.

Shouting through the flames, he called out, "Adriano!  Adriano!  Can you
hear me?"  There was no answer.  All he could hear was the roar of the
flames.  Making sure the wet towel covered his head, except for his eyes,
Frack ran through the wall of flames and down the hall filled with choking
smoke.  When he reached Adriano's door, he shouldered it open.  The smoke
was dense in the apartment, but not quite as thick as in the hallway.  He
found Adriano lying face down on the floor.

Frack called, "Adriano!  Adriano!  Can you hear me?"  There was still no
answer.  Adriano had lost consciousness.  Picking Adriano up, he made his
way down the hall again toward the stairway.  The wet towel on his head
began to slip away, and Frack could not prevent it from falling onto his
shoulders.  With Adriano in his arms, he pressed Adriano's face tightly
against his chest and stumbled through the flames and onto the stairway.

Frack was now breathing in so much smoke that he felt his chest was about
to explode, and he could see that one of his pants legs was burning.  With
his eyes burning and blinded by smoke, Frack fell on the stairs, rolling
most of the way to the bottom.  He lost his grip on Adriano, but he held on
to his shoulders.  Dragging Adriano to the front door, Frack fell
unconscious in the doorway with Adriano's body beneath him.

The firemen had just arrived and rushed up to pull Frack and Adriano to
safety.  The fire rescue van and its crew had also just arrived, and both
unconscious men were immediately put inside where they were put on oxygen.
Mario was by this time hysterical with fear for Adriano and Frack.  He was
allowed to enter the van and sit next to them.  Both remained unconscious.
Adriano, dressed only in his briefs, was covered with soot and ash, and
Frack had burns on his face, arms, and legs.

The fire rescue van was soon on its way to the hospital, where Adriano and
Frack were immediately attended to in the emergency room.  Attendants
stripped Frack down and began treating his mostly second degree burns.
Another attendant took the vital signs of both men.  They had both inhaled
huge amounts of smoke, and it was feared that the lack of oxygen may have
caused brain or lung damage.  Mario told them that it had only been a
matter of minutes that they had been in the building and hoped that the
smoke had not damaged them.

It was not until dawn the next morning when Adriano regained consciousness
and saw his father standing over him.  He looked at Mario through swollen
and bloodshot eyes.  When he saw his father, he held his arms up and, with
tears in his eyes, he sobbed, "Dad.  Oh, dad."

Mario hugged his son tighter than he had ever hugged anyone.  After a
while, he said, "You've been through a terrible experience, son.  I'm so
thankful you're still alive."

"What happened, dad?  I don't remember anything." Adriano said.

"There was a fire at your apartment."

"I don't remember anything, dad.  How did I get out?"

"Luckily, Frack and I were coming to visit you, and we got there just after
the fire started.  Frack went in and carried you out."

"Where is he dad?" Adriano asked.

Tears began to fill Mario's eyes.  "Frack is here with you in the emergency
room.  He's in pretty bad shape.  Like you, he ingested a lot of smoke and
he's quite badly burned."

Adriano put his hand over his mouth and said softly, "Oh, my God."

"He risked his own life for you, son.  You wouldn't be here now with me if
he hadn't gone in and carried you out."

Adriano could only repeat over and over, "Oh, my God.  Oh, my God."

As Mario hugged his son close to him, he whispered, "He's a good person,
Adriano.  He has a heart filled with more love and warmth than any other
person I have never known.  He's a good person."

"I know, dad.  I know," sobbed Adriano.

Mario and his son held on to each other for a long time, saying nothing.
Soon, Mario released his son and said, "You need to sleep, son, and get
your strength back.

"Can I see him?" Adriano said as he looked searchingly into his father's
eyes.

"Yes, in time you can.  Right now, he's still unconscious and they're doing
all they can for him.

With fear in his eyes, Adriano looked up at his dad and asked, "Will he
live, dad?  Will he be alright?"

"Yes, they've assured me he's going to be alright."


Your comments and questions are welcome.  Please write me.

Tom Borden
Tombor99@yahoo.com