Date: Thu, 3 Apr 2003 10:21:44 EST
From: Tulsadriller7@aol.com
Subject: Tales from the Ranch, Chapter 38/?

Disclaimer:  The following story is a work of fiction.  If you
are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man
relations, please exit this page.

TALES FROM THE RANCH
Copyrightc 2003 by Tulsa Driller 7.  All rights reserved.

This is a story of men who have two common interests.  You will
see that they love the land where they live and work, but it is
also the story of young men who love other men and their coming
of age in a culture of prejudice and misunderstanding.  It is a
story, which deals with difficult and often disturbing issues
but, nonetheless, issues which must be confronted in today's
world.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any
specific person or persons.  Any similarity to actual persons or
events is entirely coincidental.  This work is copyrightedc by
the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the
specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned to the
Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but
it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the
written permission of the author.

PLEASE:  In a perfect world AIDS doesn't exist.  My characters
have unprotected sex.  I hope you use proper precautions because
I'd like you to be around the read the last chapter of this
story.

Tales from the Ranch
Chapter 38:  Houston was a lot of Work
     The first stop Dale and Joey made was at the administrative
area.  Jay McCormick had made arrangements for Joey to be
withdrawn from school.  The paperwork was complete and both Joey
and Dale signed on the appropriate lines, authorizing the school
to forward his transcript to Davy Crockett High School in
Williamsport.  He turned in his homework and was provided with
envelopes to place the various assignments so they could go to
the right teacher.  Joey was told he could go visit with any of
his teachers during the lunch hour, but that he couldn't disturb
them if a class was in progress.
     One of the office aides called the coaches' office in the
gym, telling the coach they would be down shortly for Joey to get
his gym clothes.
     Dale left Joey at the school and was back home in ten
minutes time.
     The only items in Joey's gym basket were his gym shorts,
jockstrap, t-shirt, socks and shoes and he stuffed them in his
backpack.  The next stop was his locker, where he worked the
combination.  All that was in there were two textbooks and a
couple of spiral notebooks.  He had four textbooks in his bag, so
all of the books could be turned in to the office for a refund of
his book deposit.
     By the time he was through in the office it was well after
11:30.  The office aide checked the lunch schedules of three
teachers Joey wanted to tell goodbye.  Two of them were on lunch
break and he hoped they would be in their classroom.  He was
given permission to be in the halls and given a pass in case
anyone questioned him.
     The first teacher, Vincent Marshall, taught history, one of
Joey's favorite subjects.  He was eating lunch at his desk and
was glad to see Joey.
     "Joey, I'm sorry about your father.  Are you back to go to
school?" he asked.
     "No, I'm moving to Williamsport, west of Austin to live with
my half-brother and his partner," he said, watching Mr.
Marshall's eyes for signs of recognition as to what he had said.
     He wasn't disappointed.
     "I'll miss having you in class.  You've been a good student
and I always appreciated your participation in our group
discussions.  Do you have your assignments to hand in?"
     "I left them in the office.  My history assignment was
included with the others," Joey told him.
     "It will be in my mailbox later today.  I'll get your final
grade turned in, but you've always been an 'A' student in my
class, so I have no reason to doubt you've turned in any work
that isn't your usual high standard."
     "Thanks, Mr. Marshall.  I've really enjoyed having you as a
teacher and hope my history teacher in Williamsport will be as
good as you are," Joey said.
     "Well, thank you, Joey.  I appreciate that.  Let's see.
Williamsport.  There's been a big scandal there the last few
days.  It made the TV and newspapers here."  He was wondering
what Joey might know about it.
     "Yeah.  The guy is a real bigot and ignorant to boot."  Joey
decided to 'drop a pin' to see what kind of response he got.
"Did you hear anything about his side-kick getting his arm
broken?"
     "Oh, yes," Vince replied.
     "Well, it turns out that his son, who is a new friend of
mine, was one of the minister's victims, several years ago.
     "You don't say," Vince said.  "Nothing like having firsthand
information, is there?"
     "Yeah, it's kind of cool."
     "Joey, a friend of mine used to teach with me at another
school.  He moved to Williamsport about over two years ago.  He
teaches history, too, but I think in lower middle school.  His
name is Tom Bryant.
     "Yeah, I know him.  He's a friend of my two Dads and he and
his friend, Eddie, go to the church where I'm going to be singing
in the choir.  They're neat guys.
     Bingo.  Target acquired.  Missile fired.
     "It's a small world, isn't it Joey?  I've known both of them
for several years."
     "I've met a lot of nice people there.  The priest and
organist/choirmaster at my church gave a little party for me to
meet some of the kids I'll be going to school with.  It's a
really nice school, too."
     "Well, tell Tom and Eddie 'hi' from Vince Marshall.  They
will probably be surprised that you were in my class."
     "I bet they will, too.  Hey, Mr. Marshall, I've got to be
going.  Here's a card with my new address and telephone number.
Maybe you can keep in contact with me.  I'd like to hear from
you."
     "That's great, Joey.  Here's my address and phone number."
He gave Joey a card that was in his desk drawer.  "If you hear
any really good information about the story, send it to me."
     Vincent thought that Joey was a real stud for only being 14
years old.  He looked much older than his age.  He held his hand
out for Joey to shake.  "You take care, Joey.  Good luck to you
in Williamsport."
     "Thanks.  See you," Joey said as he went out the door.
     Vince thought he'd have to call Tom and Eddie and find out
what they could tell him about the scandal in Williamsport and
about Joey and his two Dads.
     * * * * *
     Joey's next stop was Mrs. Garland's room.  Beverly Garland
was his English Literature teacher, but she wasn't at her desk.
Joey left one of his cards on her desk where she couldn't miss
it.  He wrote in his neat script.  "Sorry I missed you."
     * * * * *
     He looked at his watch.  It was time for his friends to go
to the cafeteria for lunch, so he made his way through the now
crowded hall.  As he got to the door, two of his friends were
coming down the hallway from the other direction.  Josh Herrman
and Stuart Browning were two of Joey's oldest friends.  They had
been in school together since kindergarten and had always been
pretty thick with each other.
     After exchanging hand slaps and claps on the back, Joey
said, "Guys. it's awesome to see you again."
     "Are you back in school?" Josh asked.  "I'm sorry about your
Dad," he told Joey.
     "I am, too," Stuart said.  "Man, we've missed you.  Our gang
just isn't the same without you leading it."
     "No, I'm just in Houston today and tomorrow.  I'm moving to
Williamsport to live with my half-brother, Dale Richards, and his
partner.  We're here to get my Dad's house ready to sell and take
the things I want to keep with us.
     "What do you mean 'partner'?" Josh asked.
     "Just what I said," Joey replied.  "His best friend," he
added.
     "Really?  You mean as in. they're queer for each other?"
     "Yes, but the politically correct term is 'gay' and you know
that as well as I do," Joey told them.
     "No way.  You're actually going to live with them?  Aren't
you afraid of what they might do to you?" Stuart asked.
     "Actually, it's going to be kind of neat.  I'm going to have
two Dads now and they are both just super to me.  You'll like
them.  My half brother, Dale, is manager of a huge ranch and
Craig is an architect and partner in his company.  I don't know
how I was so lucky, because if they hadn't agreed to take me, I
would have ended up in Foster care and you've heard what that is
like."
     "Bummer," Josh said.
     "Hey, you guys remember what my Dad looked like, don't you?"
Joey asked them.
     "Yeah," they replied almost in unison.
     "Well, Dale looks just like him, except 20 years younger.
He's only 10 years older than I am, so I guess I'm getting both
an older brother and two new Dads.  It's going to be great living
in Williamsport and maybe you guys can come visit during a school
break or next summer."
     By this time they were at the serving line and each picked
items they wanted to eat, paid for them and made their way to the
usual table they occupied.  Three of the other guys in their Boy
Scout Troop were already at the table and two more were there
shortly afterward.
     Joey handed out several cards to each, telling them to pass
the extras on to friends he wouldn't get to see today.
     The eight boys had a great time visiting with each other,
exchanging addresses and telephone numbers and catching up on the
things they had been doing the past couple of weeks.
     Two of the boys said that they appreciated the invitation to
visit Joey in Williamsport and hoped to be able to do so next
summer.
     "I'll bet that my Dad can let you help on the ranch if you
want to.  He's already said that he'd hire me as summer help next
year."
     All of the boys had a hard time envisioning a working ranch
with 4,500 horses and 25,000 head of cattle.
     "And your brother runs it?" Jeremy Young asked.
     "He's the general manager.  There are quite a few men
working there, but I'm not sure how many," Joey told them.
     The boys were impressed with Joey's story about milking the
cow and gathering eggs.
     "I guess I never thought about eggs and milk like that," Jim
Clinton said.  "I'm just used to seeing them in the refrigerator
in the grocery store and at home."
     They were still visiting when the second bell rang, making
the other seven boys late for their first class after lunch.
     Some of the boys shook hands, some exchanged high fives and
a couple hugged Joey as they left the cafeteria.  They all
promised to stay in contact with each other.
     The other teacher that Joey wanted to see was Milton Morgan,
his science teacher.  He was at his desk working on lesson plans.
     Joey walked through the door and stood a couple of feet from
his desk, waiting to be recognized.
     Finally he looked up.
     "Joey, it's good to see you.  I'm sorry about your father.
That's a tough break for a young man your age.  Just when you
need him the most."
     "Thanks, Mr. Morgan.  I appreciate that."
     "Are you ready to come back to class?" he asked.
     "No, actually I'm here today to turn in my assignments,
clean out my locker and tell my friends goodbye.  I'm moving to
Williamsport to live with my half-brother.  He's agreed to watch
after me," Joey told him.
     "Well, I'm sorry to lose you as a student.  You always sat
on the front row and kept me honest," he laughed.
     "You are a good teacher, I just hope my science teacher
there takes the time to explain things to the class as you do."
     "Why, thank you," he said.  "Did you turn your assignments
in at the office?"
     "Yes sir," Joey answered.
     "Then they'll be in my mailbox later this afternoon.  I'm
sure that your work on them is up to your usual good standards so
it won't be any problem to give you at least a 'C'," he laughed.
     Poor Joey didn't realize he was being teased, as Mr. Morgan
never gave much indication of having a sense of humor.
     Milton Morgan looked at Joey and could tell he didn't think
it was a joke.
     "I'm sorry, Joey.  I shouldn't have said that.  Of course
you're an 'A' student and I'm sure you'll earn an 'A' on those
assignments."
     "Thanks, Mr. Morgan."  Joey reached into his shirt pocket
and extracted a card.  "Here's my new address and telephone
number.  I hope maybe I'll hear from you again sometime," he
said.
     "Of course you will, Joey.  There aren't too many students
who ever want to hear from a teacher again after they pass his
class.  But, I'll be glad to write you a note now and then to ask
how you are getting along and find out what you are doing."
     He wrote his name, address and telephone number on a half-
sheet of paper and gave it to Joey.  "You write to me, too,
okay?"
     Joey beamed.  "Sure.  I think I'm going to love living there
and I've already met some kids my age, so I'm looking forward to
moving."
     "I'm sure you will do well, Joey.  If you are ever back in
Houston, come visit the school," Milton said.
     "Thanks.  I just might do that.  Some of my friends from
here want to come to Williamsport next summer and maybe work on
the ranch that my brother manages, so maybe I can come visit
them, too."
     "Your brother manages a ranch?"
     "Yeah, the Bar-W.  Have you ever heard of it?  It's a huge
place.  They've got about 25,000 head of cattle and 4,500
horses."
     "I know of it by its reputation.  The owner is well known
for helping develop some really strong bloodlines in that herd of
cattle.  He's worked pretty closely with the faculty and students
at Texas A&M and they've been written up in some of the
scientific publications I take."
     Joey was about to bust with pride.
     "Yeah, Mr. Williamson, Marty, took me on a tour of the state
capitol building last week.  Some of the wood and stone used in
the building came from the Bar-W Ranch.  His great-grandfather
was a state senator right after the building was built.
     "Now that I have a real connection, I may have to come over
there and visit the ranch and see what it's all about.  Will you
be my tour guide?"
     Joey laughed.  "I might get to go on the tour with you, but
I bet my brother would be a swell tour guide, or even Marty, Mr.
Williamson.  I'll tell them that you are interested.  That would
be so neat if you could come to Williamsport."
     "Now that I know somebody there, I just might do that."
     "Awesome," Joey said.  "I have to call my brother to come
pick me up.  We have a lot of work to do today and tomorrow to
get my Dad's house ready to sell and move some of my things to my
brother's house.  It's been really great to talk to you, Mr.
Morgan."
     "You too, Joey.  I've enjoyed talking to you, too," he said
offering his hand to shake.
     "Bye," Joey said as he went out the door.
     "Goodbye, Joey. and good luck!"
     * * * * *
     Craig picked Joey up in front of the school as Dale was
still talking with the realtor.
     "How did it go?" he asked.
     "Great.  Guess what?" Joey asked.
     "I wouldn't even attempt to guess what," Craig laughed.
     "Mr. Marshall, my history teacher, knows Tom and Eddie.  He
said that he and Tom used to teach at the same school."
     "Now, that's interesting," Craig said.  "Do you think he
might be gay?"
     "I've always wondered.  He used to stare at me a lot when I
sat on the front row, but I don't know."
     "Hey stud, if you were sitting in front of me, I'd stare,
too.  You know how much I love your brother and I like to just
look at him and think how lucky I am, so you'd get the same
treatment from me."
     Joey laughed.  "Yeah, we do kinda look alike, don't we?"
     "What else happened that was interesting?  Did you get to
see all of your friends?"
     "Most of them.  The ones that are in Boy Scouts, anyway.  We
were the thickest buds.  Some of them would like to come to
Williamsport next summer and see the ranch.  I invited them.  I
hope that's okay, but some of them might not be able to come over
anyway," Joey said.  He was excited.
     "Sure, it's okay.  We'll find room to stack them up
somewhere."
     "You and Dad Dale are the greatest," Joey said, giving Craig
five.
     "So are you, Joey."
     "And. I went to see my science teacher, Mr. Morgan.  He
knows all about the Bar-W and cattle they have.  He was surprised
that Dale was the general manager and wanted to know if I'd give
him a tour if he came to visit.  I told him that probably Dale or
Marty would have to do that."
     "I just bet that with a little more knowledge of the place,
you could give a fine tour," Craig said.
     That statement made Joey proud.
     * * * * *
     The realtor and Dale were just finishing when they arrived
at the house.  Dale had been thankful to have Frank and Craig's
help in talking to him, since Craig was involved in real estate
from an architectural point of view and Frank was the office
manager for a large law firm in Dallas.  Both knew the questions
to ask and Frank had insisted that the exclusive contract be
shortened from 90 days to 60 days and that the house not be put
on multi-list.
     This realty firm didn't like to do multi-list contracts
anyway because too many people could show the house without
knowing anything about what they were trying to sell.  His firm
liked to be able to work with their customers to find the ideal
home and had enough listings; they could be selective in the
property they listed.  Harlan Holman had balked at the shortened
exclusive period.  Frank told him that it had been his experience
that if you gave a realtor 90 days to sell something, they didn't
get busy until day 75.  He was upset at the accusation, but
agreed.  He knew that he had a buyer for the property and wanted
the listing.
     Dale had signed the contract, agreeing that the asking price
should be $290,700.  Harlan thought he could get a contract for
that amount as other properties in the surrounding area had sold
in that price range.
     They shook hands and Dale walked Harlan to his car.  Dale
took the opportunity to ask his opinion of the estate sale
people, telling him whom he had appointments to talk to.  Harlan
told him that Baker's Estate Sales would do a competent job, but
that he really would be better off with Gable and Clark, who Dale
was to see at 4:30.
     He thanked Harlan again.
     * * * * *
     Dale greeted Joey and Craig.  "How did your trip to school
go?" he questioned.
     "Great," Joey said.
     "I want to hear all about it, but I think you need to go
find your grandmother, because she's found a lot of items she
thought you might like to keep.  She thinks that they've been
buried in the closets for so long that you've forgotten about
them," Dale said.
     Joey went off in search of Doris.  The house was beginning
to look as if a tornado had hit it.  The closets might be cleaned
out, but the floors, tables and every other available space had
suffered for it.
     Dale, Frank and Craig had hauled the items to a corner of
the living room that they knew for sure Joey wanted to keep.
Frank had gotten most of the models packed, the boxes sealed and
labeled.  The stack of boxes to be moved to Williamsport kept
growing.  They would have four vehicles; two sedans, a pickup and
Dale's Blazer.  There would be five people and a dog.  If
necessary, they could rent a small trailer to tow behind the
Blazer or pickup.  Regardless, they would be able to move
everything.
     Dale told Craig.  "I hope we don't have to rent storage for
the things we are keeping."
     "If we do, so what?  It's stuff that either Joey or we can
use.  And, maybe that will spur us onward to doing something
about a place that's more in line with our needs as a family,"
Craig said.
     "I know.  We need to talk about this.  Joe suggested that we
sell this house and build something for us to live in.  Then
Arlen Fischer suggested that we invest the money and take only
what was needed for Joey's annual expenses.  So, I feel guilty
about taking Joey's money.  He might only be with us another four
years, then he's off to college," Dale said.
     "Hon, I think Joey has plenty of money now.  Certainly we
don't have to use everything from the sale of this place, but I
heard Joe say that he was putting the house in your name and you
could sell it and do whatever you wanted with the money."
     "I know, I just don't want to be accused of mishandling
Joey's money."
     "The two of us providing Joey a nice home isn't
'mishandling' Joey's money.  I don't want to be accused of doing
that either, but I think the three of us can split the costs.
And. it isn't as if we couldn't buy Joey's share when he finished
college," Craig replied.
     "You always manage to put things into the simplest terms,"
Dale told Craig, while they were standing in the garage.
     "You and Joey have more money than I do, although I can
certainly sell the condo for my share of whatever we might decide
to do," Craig told him.  "Of course, since you own half the
condo, I'd have to get permission from you to do that, and that
comes at a hard price," he added, giving Dale's cock a squeeze.
     "I don't own half the condo," Dale said.
     "Oh, but you do.  The paperwork is being drawn up to add
your name to the deed," Craig said, giving Dale another kiss.
"After all, if something happened to Joey's other Dad, I don't
want the two of you to be left with no place to live, although my
parents understand that everything I have is to go to you, but
that's other legal work in process."
     "I think that I need to have a will, also.  My life is
getting too complicated," Dale said.
     "This is a good time to do so.  You've seen how much easier
everything is with Joe's passing.  Can you imagine what a mess it
would be if he hadn't planned ahead?" Craig asked.
     "I think I want to kiss whoever his financial advisor is,"
Dale said to Craig.
     "Hey bud, just be careful who you go kissing.  Seems to me I
have first dibs on that," Craig teased.
     Dale gave Craig a kiss, sighing, "Yes, I always thought I'd
be a poor guy, working like my grandfather to barely make ends
meet.  Look at me.  I'm the luckiest guy in the world.  I've got
you, Joey and your parents and a lot of friends," Dale said, with
a great deal of pride in his eyes.
     "I don't know which of us is the luckiest, but I know that
I'm in the ballpark," Craig agreed.
     * * * * *
     Frank happened to be looking out the door into the garage.
It was obvious that his son and Dale were in love with each
other.  It just seemed strange to see two strong, virile men
holding onto each other and exchanging kisses.
     He was a little concerned about Joey, knowing that they
would never do anything to him that was wrong, but wondered if
they were really good role models.
     What Frank didn't realize was that the younger people, for
the most part, didn't have the sexual hang-ups of earlier
generations.
     * * * * *
     Riley Boyd called Bret Senior at work on Wednesday about mid-
day.
     "Bret, this is Riley Boyd."
     "Hello Riley.  I was wondering if you might be calling me."
     "Damn right I am.  We're going to have a meeting of what few
people that are left of the Victory Temple membership tonight at
7:30.  I don't know if I have any right to call the meeting, but
others have urged me to do so and we want some answers.  Can you
be there tonight and have the financial records up-to-date so we
can determine if there is any reason to try to keep going - maybe
with the leadership of another pastor - not Jimmy Bob Jones.
     "Riley, I'll be there.  I want some answers myself.  And,
the records are pretty much up-to-date, except for the deposit
for last Sunday.  I don't' have the figures or the deposit slip,
yet."
     "That's something else we wanted to talk to you about.  What
is the procedure for depositing the Sunday collection?" Riley
asked.
     "The church secretary makes up a deposit slip for the
checks, stamps them and takes them to the bank on Monday
morning," Bret said.
     "What about the cash?" Riley asked.
     Bret's senses went into overdrive.  Something wasn't right
and he hadn't been smart enough to figure it out.
     "Uhmm, unnn. there isn't any cash," he said before he
thought his answer through.
     "What do you mean?" Riley had raised his voice.
     He was careful with his answer, but didn't lie.  "I have all
of the deposit slips for the last three years and I don't recall
any cash being deposited.  We always make our gift by check."
     Riley was getting a little riled up.  The last two weeks,
Lois and I have made our usual gift by check, but we've also put
in a $50 bill each Sunday for the 'God's Plan' offering, as Jimmy
Bob calls it.  I know that the people who were sitting to our
right last Sunday put in two $20 bills, and I know a lot of
others put cash in the collection plate, too."
     Brett was stunned, but he recalled seeing others put cash in
the collection plates.
     "What's the procedure for the Sunday offering?" Riley
demanded.
     "The ushers put the money into a green bag and that's put in
the church safe.  On Monday morning, the secretary makes up a
deposit slip and takes the checks to the bank.  I get the receipt
and the duplicate deposit slip later in the week," Bret told him.
     "Who has access to the safe?" Riley asked.
     "Jimmy Bob and the church secretary are all, as far as I
know," Bret replied.
     "I think we need to talk to the secretary and find out if
any cash is ever in the bag when she takes it out of the safe on
Monday morning, or whenever she does that," Riley told Bret.
     "Do you think?." Bret asked.
     Well, I'll tell you what," Riley said.  "Jimmy Bob is in
jail and probably won't get out very soon.  Marlene has a
boyfriend and we know he spent the night at her house two nights
this week, and I have a suspicion that she may stay at his house,
too.
     "There should be keys to the house in the church office, or
Jimmy Bob's office.  I say that we get the keys and do a little
exploring," Riley said.
     Brett didn't have a good feeling about this, but he was the
church treasurer.  He couldn't help it if there was someone
between the collection plate and himself.  Or two 'someone's'.
     "Okay, when do you want to do this?" Bret asked.
     "How about you meet Lois and me at the church in about 10
minutes, would that be okay?"
     Bret thought he was going to be sick to his stomach, but
agreed.
     * * * * *
     Telling Amanda that he had some church business to attend
to, Bret left his office.  He was hoping to get rid of the
elastic bandage and plastic cast tomorrow.  The swelling seemed
to have gone down and his arm really wasn't as sore as the day
before.
     Fifteen minutes later Bret parked in the church lot.  Riley
and Lois were waiting at the door.  A locksmith was with them for
the purpose of changing outside locks and to admit them to locked
doors and desks inside the building if they couldn't find keys.
     The first discovery was that the combination to the safe was
written inside the receptionist/secretaries desk drawer.  No
secrets there.
     Jimmy Bob's desk was unlocked and they found another half
dozen pictures he'd missed.  In going through the drawers, they
found almost $56,000 in cash that was stuffed into file folders
and he was actually brazen enough to put dates on each file
folder.  The earliest dates were almost a year old, although some
had been crossed out and newer dates written in.
     They put that money in a bank bag and put it in the safe
after the locksmith changed the combination, giving the new
numbers to Bret and Riley.
     That task completed, they found keys to the parsonage on a
board in a locked closet.  They took the locksmith with them.
     The first discovery was the liquor on the kitchen cabinet.
Lois later discovered two unopened bottles of cheap gin (although
she didn't know it to be a cheap brand).
     It appeared that Marlene had left in a hurry, however it
appeared that most of her clothes and personal items were all
that were missing.  They were surprised that she slept in the
"master bedroom" while Jimmy Bob must sleep in the second
bedroom.
     They started going through drawers in Jimmy Bob's bedroom.
More pictures, this time from magazines called "Twinks".  The
pictures made Bret sick to his stomach and he had to make a rush
trip to the bathroom.  They found several shoe boxes in his
closet with more pictures and cash stuffed in them, too.
     Three hours later, they had found an additional $41,000 in
Jimmy Bob's room and $17,600 in Marlene's room.  They wondered
how much she had gotten away with.  They debated about getting a
search warrant for Scott McKown's apartment, but decided not to
at that time.
     They did find bank statements in both bedrooms.  There was
not much money in those accounts.
     Almost a hundred fifteen thousand dollars in cash was a
pretty good haul for a few hours work.  Although it didn't get
them out of the woods, it did improve the financial status of the
Victory Temple by a lot.
     Bret was reminded of what Morris Johnsmore had said about
the preacher making off with the church funds and the
congregation was left holding the bag.  That was certainly true
here.  They would need to get a crew into the house to clean it
out and have a big garage sale.
     The locksmith changed all the outside locks of the
parsonage.
     * * * * *
     Jimmy Bob Jones actually got down on his knees and prayed an
honest prayer to his Lord.  It probably was the first time in
years that he had been honest in confessing his sins and asking
for help.  He felt a little better about it, then remembered more
things he hadn't confessed.  This pattern would continue
throughout the day.  Confessing and asking for forgiveness.
     Since he was around the corner from the other prisoners,
they had largely forgotten about him and the yelling and obscene
language had all but stopped.  They had gotten tired of
haranguing him, not being sure he was still in the jail.  For
this, Jimmy Bob gave a thankful prayer that was genuine.
     Marcus Streeter came to see him again on Wednesday
afternoon.  He had gotten into Jimmy Bob's house before the locks
were changed and had brought him two changes of clothes, along
with a toilet kit that had an electric razor, deodorant, cologne,
a bar of bath soap, nail clippers and a file.  After he left, one
of the deputies took him to the shower so he could clean up.  By
the time he was dressed, he felt almost human and looked it, too.
After eating his meals at fast food emporiums when he wasn't
invited to a member's home, prison food actually tasted pretty
good to him, although he complained about what he thought were
skimpy servings.
     One of the deputies was nice enough to bring him a Bible and
several paperback novels he could read to help pass the time.  He
started to read "Roots" by Alex Haley and was thoroughly caught
up in it by the time he read the first chapter.  In fact he went
back to reread it to get some of the characters straight in his
mind.  He hadn't read a book of any kind in years, except to find
quotes he could use in his sermons.
     He wondered where Bret Jenkins, his church treasurer, was.
He thought he might hear from him and a couple of others in the
congregation who had always seemed loyal and unquestioning about
what he told them.  He wasn't worried about his wife.  She could
take care of herself.
     Marcus told him that the bondsman wasn't willing to increase
the bond for the additional charges that would be filed against
him.  The insurance hadn't been paid on the Cadillac, and it was
determined that if there had been insurance, the car would have
been totaled as the engine was damaged.  Since he couldn't get a
guarantee of payment of his fee, he would not help Jimmy Bob any
further.
     A court appointed attorney would probably be appointed by
the judge to defend him, and if that followed the usual pattern,
it was usually just a cursory defense by an incompetent lawyer
who signed up to defend people only so they could earn a little
extra money.
     Things were not looking good for Jimmy Bob Jones and if he'd
known what was being uncovered at the church and his home right
now, he would have been back on his knees, begging God for mercy
on his poor wretched soul.
     * * * * *
     Late in the afternoon Eddie called his friend, Charles
Stephens, in the Houston Juvenile Hall to visit with him about
the possibility of taking troubled teens where suitable homes
couldn't be found.  After they exchanged greetings, Eddie told
him about his idea, saying that they preferred a boy who was
having problems with his discovery that he might be gay.
     "I'm sorry, Eddie, I'd love to take you up on the offer and
my friend, who is a judge in the juvenile system, would be more
than happy to talk to you and your partner.  However, the problem
is that you are 200 miles away and out of our jurisdiction."
     Eddie was disappointed.  "We thought maybe this might be a
chance to do some good."
     "Don't give up.  I know someone who works for the juvenile
system in Austin.  Let me give him a call and tell him of your
willingness to help.  I'll give you a good recommendation and
tell him to call you if he thinks you can help them.  I'm sure
they have the same situation there as we do here.  More boys than
qualified homes."
     "Thanks, Charlie.  Tom and I have some counseling experience
and think we might be able to make a difference in a boy's life.
This is a great community for raising children and I think we'd
have a lot of support from others in the area who would be
anxious to help."
     "I'll try to call him right now.  Maybe you'll hear from him
soon.  I'd sure talk to you if you still lived here in Houston."
     They exchanged good-byes.
     Charles Stephens immediately called his friend, Jeremy
Houser, in Austin.  They had met at a regional social workers
workshop several years before in San Antonio and had ended up
sharing one room for the rest of the week.  While they weren't
really lovers, it was a long distance relationship and at least
one weekend a month one of them drove to the other city to spend
the two days.
     He was surprised when his friend answered the phone on the
first ring.
     "Houser, here," he answered.
     "Jeremy." he started to say when he was cut off.
     "Chuck, gosh it's good to hear from you in the middle of the
week.  It's a wonderful surprise.  What's going on?"
     "A fellow I know who used to teach here in Houston has moved
to your area.  He did a little counseling of teen boys who
thought they were gay.  He might be willing to help you out there
by providing counseling and helping the boys who need a place to
live," Charles told him.
     "You know that we need all the help we can get and don't
have enough sympathetic people to deal with the boys who need
help.  Of course, I want to talk to him."
     "He and his partner live in Williamsport.  Both of them are
teachers.  Eddie Thompson is a coach in the middle school there
and works in the summer recreation program.  His partner, Tom
Bryant, teaches History in the same school," Charles told him.
     "Williamsport?" Jeremy laughed.  "That town has been put on
the map this week, hasn't it?"
     "To be sure.  I hope they lock that minister up and throw
away the key," Charles said.
     "Talk about kids that are going to need counseling, that
town ought to be a fertile field to work in," Jeremy said.
     "Actually, Eddie and Tom have worked with two or three of
those kids in the past.  They helped the kids understand what was
going on, but the parents refused to either believe it or
wouldn't confront the minister.  Without their cooperation, Eddie
and Tom couldn't do anything to prevent it," Charles told him.
     "I don't know why parents are so blind about stuff like
that.  They are just as guilty as the guy doing the evil deed.
In many cases it just makes it easier for the perpetrator to go
on and hurt more kids," Jeremy said.
     "Enough of that.  Let me give you their names and phone
number.  Maybe you can arrange an interview with them and they
can help you out," Charles said.
     "If they have any qualifications at all, I know I can use
them.  With your recommendation, I know they have to be good,"
Jeremy said.
     "Hey, it's my turn to come to Austin this time.  Maybe we
can get together with these fellows for dinner.  I haven't seen
Eddie since he left Houston."
     "Let me see what I can set up.  Will you drive up on Friday
night?" Jeremy asked.
     "Yeah, if that's okay.  I'll plan to be at your place about
7 o'clock.  I'm looking forward to a weekend away from town where
they can't find me," Charles told him.
     "Leave your cell phone at home, then," Jeremy laughed.
"I'll leave mine turned off."
     "In your dreams," Charles laughed before hanging up.
     * * * * *
     Jeremy was always glad to hear from Charles.  He wished they
could move their relationship to a higher level, but the distance
was too far to consider anything beyond their spending a weekend
together now and then.  Jeremy thought that Austin was as large
of a town as he wanted to live in and Charles seemed to think
that anyplace outside Houston was the end of the world.  Well,
Charles lived in the Montrose district of Houston, which was one
of the larger gay enclaves in the United States.  Jeremy always
had the impression that you could go for days there and never see
a straight person.
     There were a lot of gay people in Austin.  They seemed to
gravitate to government jobs and were good at keeping the wheels
of bureaucracy greased and turning.  Jeremy never understood how
those guys could go out every night, troll for tricks, fuck each
other silly the rest of the night, then go lobby against gay
rights, gay adoption, repeal of the sodomy laws or whatever other
gay issue was at the forefront.  If they would be truthful about
their sexuality and all band together, they could turn the state
laws into a model for gay rights.  But no, as soon as the sun
came up, they put on their legislative-aide suits and changed
back into Dr. Jekyll.
      He looked at his watch.  It was almost 5 p.m.  He dialed
the number in Williamsport.  Tom answered the telephone.
     "Is this Eddie Thompson?"
     "No.  Just a minute."
     In a few seconds he heard, "Eddie Thompson."
     "Eddie, this is Jeremy Houser.  I work for the juvenile
court system in Austin.  Your friend, Charles Stephens, called me
a little earlier and told me that you and your friend, Tom
Bryant, might be interested in working with our system in the
placement of teen boys who need a place to live and some
counseling."
     "Yes.  We've had some experience with that and have tried to
help three boys here in Williamsport who were molested by Jimmy
Bob Jones.  Unfortunately, while we may have helped the boys,
their parents refused to believe it had happened and wouldn't
press charges.  Our hands were tied to try to prevent him from
having contact with others," Eddie said.
     "Are you interested in going through our indoctrination and
training program here to see if you are qualified?  You realize
that we have to do profiles on each of you to make sure you are
qualified and that there isn't anything in your background to
prevent you from becoming certified."
     "Yes, I. we. understand."
     "Good.  Chuck is coming up here on Friday night and will be
going back to Houston late on Sunday night.  Are you fellows free
to meet with us and possibly have dinner on Friday or Saturday
evening?"
     "It would have to be Saturday.  I'm a coach and we have a
Junior League football game on Friday evening.  Let me check with
Tom right now."
     Eddie covered the receiver.
     "Hon, if you are interested in getting into the juvenile
court program, we're invited to dinner on Saturday night.  My old
friend, Charles Stephens from Houston will be there, too."
     "Sounds fine to me.  Go ahead and set it up," Tom told him.
     "Jeremy, Tom says it's fine.  Just tell me where and what
time."
     "Why don't you plan to be here at 6 o'clock?  The address is
4205 Red River and the telephone number is 555-5613."
     Eddie read the information back, saying they would see them
Saturday evening and hung up.
     "I didn't expect anything to happen this quickly.  Jeremy
Houser told me that we would have to go through training and some
other tests to get certified.  He and Charles will explain all of
the requirements to us over dinner."
     "That's great," Tom said.  "I think we will be good
providers."
     "You know, I knew that Charles had a friend that lived out
of town that he went to see fairly regularly.  Sounds like we're
going to get to meet him."
     "Well, it will be an interesting evening just to meet these
fellows," Tom said.
     He was finishing the preparation for their dinner, which was
going to be an oriental stir-fry.  It took a lot of time to chop
and dice the ingredients so he liked to get as much done ahead of
time as possible so they could relax for a little bit and share
their day with each other.
     * * * * *
     Dale and Frank were just finishing emptying the last of the
storage areas in the garage.  Joe had a lot of nice shop tools,
although little in the way of power equipment except for a radial
arm saw.
     Phil Baker parked his Lexus on the street in front of the
house and made his way up the driveway.  Dale walked out to meet
him and they introduced themselves.  He guessed that Phil was
probably about Frank's age, somewhere around 55.
     "We might as well start here in the garage so you can see
what is for sale," Dale told him.  As they walked into the
garage, Dale introduced him to Frank.  He shook hands with him
and exchanged pleasantries.
     "Have you set aside the things you want to keep, yet?" Phil
asked.
     "Most everything," Dale said.  "I don't think there is much
I want because I don't have room for it.  We live in an apartment
and have limited storage."
     "I understand," Phil said.
     He had a small micro-cassette recorder and started talking
into that as he looked through things.  The men walked out onto
the driveway to be out of his way and not interfere with his
talking.
     "I didn't ask you if you wanted any of the tools," Dale told
Frank.
     "No, I have a big shop in the basement and I didn't see
anything here that isn't a duplicate of what I already have."
     "We might as well go in the house to see how Doris and her
crew are getting along," Dale said.  "You go on in and I'll tell
Phil to come in when he's though here."
     "Now the real work begins when you sign onto her crew,"
Frank laughed, heading toward the front door.
     Dale walked back in the garage and stood until Phil clicked
off the recorder.
     "I'm going inside to help the others.  Come on in when you
are through out here," Dale told him.
     "Will do.  It will take me about 10 more minutes here."
     Dale went in the house.  Craig was emptying kitchen cabinets
and drawers.  The kitchen table and counter were getting full.
Dale was impressed with the appliances, utensils and kitchen
gadgets and made a mental note to ask Joey if Joe did a lot of
cooking.  He remembered Joey telling him and Craig that he knew
how to fix a number of things so he could have dinner ready when
Joe arrived home after working late.
     "How are you getting along?" Dale asked Craig.
     "This is a lot of work," he said.  This place is crammed
full, everywhere, but I'm about through and it's a good thing
because I'm about out of space."
     "If you see anything that you think we might want, put it in
the other room to be packed to go home with us."
     "Actually, I've already done some of that, mostly on Mom's
recommendation, but I think there may be several other things and
I'll show them to you later," Craig told him.
     "Okay, I'll leave it up to you, but we can look things over
later.  Oh, if there are any cookbooks, hang on to them.  Joey
talked about using a couple of them.  I'm going to check on the
others."
     He found Doris finishing in the closet in the fourth bedroom
that Joe used for an office.
     "Hi," she said.  "I think there is a lot of paperwork that
needs to be saved, probably for tax purposes.  We can buy heavy
cardboard file boxes at the office supply store and transfer the
contents of that file cabinet, then it can be sold."
     There was an old IBM computer on the desk.  Dale didn't know
too much about computers, but would ask Joey about it.  On first
glance around he didn't see anything of interest that he wanted
to keep.
     Doris took him to the third bedroom where she and Frank
would sleep that night.
     "These were on the closet shelf.  Some of these things look
like they could be family heirlooms.  There are some old quilts
and linens with crocheted lace.  That stuff always sells well at
garage sales."
     She pulled open dresser drawers.  "Not much in here, I
didn't find anything of great value," she said, letting Dale
look.
     "I'll be finished in here in a few minutes, then I'll start
in on Joe's bedroom."
     "Okay," Dale said.  He wanted to check drawers first incase
they had missed anything he didn't think Doris or Frank should
run across.
     He walked across the hall and hurriedly pulled drawers open.
Bingo.  There were a few magazines and a box of condoms in the
nightstand.  He didn't find anything in the dresser and they had
pretty well gone through the closet that morning before Doris and
Frank got there.
     About that time Craig came in with several kitchen items in
his hands.
     "Are there any grocery sacks or plastic bags that you can't
see through?"
     "Yeah," Craig said.  "Under the sink.  Why?"
     "I found a box of condoms and some 'male' magazines in the
nightstand," Dale said.
     "And you want to take them home with you?"  Dale could tell
Craig was teasing him.
     "No, not necessarily, but I don't think your parents should
stumble across them."
     "Mom would probably get a thrill out of the magazines,"
Craig laughed.
     Dale wasn't sure if he should laugh, but did.
     "Get a sack out of the kitchen.  I'm keeping these things
out of the kitchen.  I'll put them in the living room to be
packed," Craig said.
     "Okay."  Dale went to the kitchen, got a bag and disposed of
the items in the bedroom.
     Dale started to Joey's bedroom, still clutching the sack he
was carrying.
     About that time Phil Baker stuck his head into the living
room.  "Oh, there you are.  I think I've looked at everything in
the garage.  Nice things, should sell well.  Where do you want me
to start in the house?"
     "You might as well start in the kitchen.  I think we've been
through all the rooms and laid things out except for the large
bedroom my father used.  There are things against the east wall
in the living room that we will keep, but there isn't much of
that," Dale said.
     "Okay.  What about the refrigerator and the washer and
dryer?"
     "They are to be sold," Dale told him.
     "I'm going to the kitchen, to start in there," Phil told
him.
     Dale agreed and started to Joey's bedroom again.  Frank
needed some help moving a couple of boxes they had packed.  Dale
laid the sack he was carrying on Joey's bed and helped Frank move
the two big boxes.  They weren't heavy, but bulky.
     Joey saw the sack lying on his bed and looked to see what
was in it.  He hadn't seen Dale lay it down.
     'Cool,' he thought and put it in the box of models he was
packing.
     Phil came back to the living room to ask about the microwave
and toaster oven.  Craig went with Dale and Phil to the kitchen
after Dale introduced Craig.
     Joey let Mitsy into the house and she immediately went to
his room.  She had been outside since they arrived and Frank
hadn't seen her until then.  Joey came back into the room.
     "What's your dogs name?" Frank asked.
     "Mitsy," Joey replied.  "She's three years old."
     Frank started playing with her, rubbing her ears and snout.
She loved it and rolled over on her back so he could scratch her
stomach.  He obliged her for a moment, and then took his hand
away.  She immediately sat up and used her right paw to reach for
Frank's hand, indicating that he wasn't through yet.  She pawed
again and he returned to petting her.  He quit again and she
pawed at his hand.  They kept that up for several more times.
Joey was watching.  He'd never seen her do that trick before.
Certainly he hadn't taught her that.
     "Joey, she's a great dog.  And smart, too," Frank said.
     "Yeah, she's neat.  I'm glad that Dale and Craig let me keep
her."
     "Craig had a Schnauzer named Smokey that he loved when he
was growing up.  Unfortunately, he died right after he graduated
from high school and we just never got another dog.  Now, we'd
like to travel some and it's hard to put a dog in a kennel and a
lot of trouble to get someone to come to the house several times
a day to feed them and let them out, too."
     "Yeah, I know.  Mitsy's not too much trouble, but it's easy
for Craig to go home at noon and check on her.  And, if he has to
do it, Dale's not too far away, either.  I don't know if we can
leave the high school during lunch hour or not.  I'll have to
find out about that."
     "I want to show this dog to your grandmother," Frank said.
He was still scratching Mitsy and she loved it.  He took him hand
away again and got the same message from Mitsy, 'You're not
through paying attention to me.'
     He got up, called Mitsy and took her to the other bedroom so
Doris could see her.
     * * * * * *
     Dale and Craig finished with Phil.  He spent more time in
the garage and kitchen than the other rooms.  Finally he said,
"You've got a lot of stuff here.  It will probably sell well, but
it will take my crew a week to lay it out and get everything
ready."  He consulted his calendar.  "We're probably looking at
having this ready to start the sale five weeks from tomorrow,
maybe even sliding another week."
     Dale was a little more than shocked.  Craig spoke up.
     "Do you have any idea as to the value of the sale items?"
He knew the man wouldn't be able to give him an estimate; he just
wanted to hear what he had to say.
     "Oh, not as much as I thought when I first started in the
garage.  Maybe $10,000 to you after it's over.  I advertise the
sale on the Sunday ahead of when it starts.  The sale starts on
Thursday.  On Friday, everything is marked down 30% and on
Saturday it's marked down 60%.  I charge 35%, which barely takes
care of advertising, paying my help, and so on.  When we're
through, you can donate what's left to charity.  Most will come
pick it up.
     Dale wasn't very happy.  He'd done much better on his own
sale than what this guy was telling him.  And, with a lot less to
sell.  However, he remembered that the realtor, Harlan Holman
said that Gable and Clark would do a better job for him.
     "Let me have your card and we'll discuss this and let you
know either way what we decide to do," Dale told him, knowing
full well that he wouldn't be having the sale.
     Phil gave him a card, shook hands with both men and left.
He was thinking that although there were a lot of good items,
there was too much other stuff that was going to take time to go
through and price.  It would take too much time for the money he
could make off the sale.
     Craig watched him get in his Lexus and drive off.
     Dale was standing beside him.
     "Who does he think we are, idiots from the sticks?"  Dale
was pissed.  "We might as well pack everything up, haul it to
Williamsport and let Carole and Paula have the sale.  I bet we
could have everything moved professionally and still come out
ahead."
     "You are probably right," Craig said.  Didn't the realtor
tell you that the other company was better, anyway?"
     "Yeah they are two individuals, not a company, although I
guess it doesn't make any difference what they call themselves.
We just need to get rid of this stuff," Dale said.
     "I understand.  At least after we talk to the other people,
we'll have a better idea of what is going on," Craig said.
     Joey walked up about that time.
     "Hi Dads, what's going on?
     "I know what isn't going on.  That idiot isn't going to have
our sale unless the other people are even worse than him."
     "What do you mean?" asked Joey.
     "Well, to begin with, he's going to give everything away by
marking it cheap, then giving a bigger discount on Friday and
Saturday and it sounded to me like he wasn't going to get rid of
the things that didn't sell.  We'd have to come back here to
dispose of that and clean the place up."
     "Bummer," said Joey.
     Craig looked at him.  "Joey, have you looked through
everything that Mom has laid out so that you don't miss anything
you want to keep?"
     "A lot of it.  I haven't looked in the office or Dad's
bedroom very much."
     "What about the computer, do you want it?"
     "It's an old IBM XT that Dad bought from his company when
they were selling surplus office equipment.  It doesn't even have
a hard drive, just uses two floppy disks.  About all it's good
for is writing letters, using a Lotus spreadsheet and playing
games.  I think when he found out it was limited in what could be
done, he decided that it was a waste of money to buy a printer."
     "You've lost me," Dale told him.
     Craig spoke up.  "It's the original personal computer that
IBM made and started selling about ten years ago.  New computers
are much faster, have more memory and a hard drive for storing
data, and most now have color monitors.  But, technology is
changing so rapidly that anything you buy today is going to be
obsolete tomorrow."
     "Well, Joey, get busy and look through the rest of the
things that Doris is laying out.  Whatever you want, we'll get
packed and take home with us."
     "Okay, Dad," Joey said and started to Joe's bedroom.
     Dale remembered carrying the sack with the magazines and
condoms to Joey's bedroom.  He was on his way to get them when
the doorbell rang.  Craig answered the door.  It was the men from
Gable and Clark.  They introduced themselves as Rusty Gable and
Cary Clark.  Craig guessed they were about 35 years old and his
Gaydar bells were pealing madly.
     "I'm Craig Bastian.  I'm glad to meet you fellows, but you
will want to talk to my partner, Dale.  He was the one that
called you."
     Dale heard the doorbell, so went back to the living room
without looking for the sack of "evidence".
     Craig was talking to two men and Dale assumed it was the
other company that handled estate sales.  He walked up to stand
beside Craig.
     "Dale Richards," he said, holding his hand out to Rusty.
     "Rusty Gable and this is my partner, Cary Clark.  Pleased to
meet you."
     Cary offered his firm handshake in greeting Dale.  They each
thought that Dale looked familiar, although younger than they
remembered.
     "Thanks for calling us," Rusty said.  "Looks like you are
busy here.  Are the items laying out to be sold, or things you
are keeping?"
     "This is all for the sale, except for a few items over in
the corner that we don't have boxed up yet.  Craig's parents are
here to help us get things out so we can see what's here.  Our
son, Joey, is around here somewhere.  He's supposed to be looking
at things he might want to keep for himself."
     Mitsy had heard the doorbell, but Frank was playing with
her, so she didn't go to investigate until she thought Frank was
through scratching her ears.  She sat down between Dale and Craig
and offered her right paw to the visitors to shake.
     "Good dog," Rusty said, shaking her hand.
     "This is our dog, Mitsy," Craig said.
     "She's beautiful," Rusty said, shaking her paw.  He let it
go and she immediately tried to get Cary's attention.  Everyone
laughed.  Dale and Craig hadn't seen her pull this trick before.
     Joey came into the room carrying two sweatshirts.
     Both Rusty and Cary were struck with how much Dale and the
teen resembled each other.  They still couldn't remember why they
looked familiar, someone they had met at another time.
     "Hey Dads, look what I found," he said.  "Can I keep them?"
     He was holding the two sweatshirts.  One said "Fire Island
Immigration Service" on the front and the other said
"Provincetown Border Patrol".
     Dale didn't know that Fire Island and Provincetown were big
gay meccas in the summer.  Craig and the other two men broke up.
Joey joined them.
     Dale was wondering what was so funny, although he had a
suspicion that it had to do with being gay.
     Craig recovered enough to tell Joey, "You can keep them if
you want, but I don't want to be seen in Williamsport with you
when you're wearing either of them."
     Joey was beaming.  "Aren't they neat?"
     More laughter.
     Rusty held his hand out to Joey.  "I'm Rusty Gable."
     "Hi, I'm Joey Sullivan"
     Cary introduced himself.  "How old are you, Joey?"
     "Fourteen," he proudly said.
     Dale added, ".going on 25."
     More laughter.
     Rusty had decided that this was probably a gay family, they
were even dressed somewhat alike and Dale and Craig were wearing
identical rings on their left hands, so he decided to plunge in.
     "Are you fellows related to each other?"
     Dale hesitated and Craig answered, "Dale and Joey are half-
brothers.  Their father and Joey lived in this house until he
died last week.  Dale and I are domestic partners and he is now
Joey's legal guardian.  You've probably noticed that Joey calls
both of us, Dad."
     Joey was standing between them with a grin on his face and
his arms around their waists.
     "That's why you look familiar," Rusty said.  "Do you look
like your father?"
     "Yes, you could easily tell that we were related, just
different ages," Dale said.
     'We used to see a fellow that was probably your father at
the bars here in Houston."
     "That was probably him," Joey spoke up.  "He and a pal of
his used to go bar hopping together."
     "Well, it looks like all of our dirty laundry is hanging out
for everyone to see," Craig laughed.
     "I don't think that's true.  Let's just say that you've
revealed yourselves and we're like you," Cary told them.
     "We think it's great that you all get along together and
it's obvious that you love each other," Rusty added.
     "We are going to be a good family and we both love Joey and
know he loves us," Dale said.  He put his arm around Joey's
shoulder and gave him a squeeze.  He was rewarded with Joey's own
1,000-watt smile.
     "Well, we need to get to work and look this stuff over.
What about the house, how soon do you have to vacate?" Rusty
asked.
     "We have an exclusive contract with Harlan Holman for 60
days and he indicated that he might have a buyer.  We're here to
pack the things Joey wants to keep and transport them back to
Williamsport.  Craig's parents are helping us and Frank is going
to buy Joe's Oldsmobile and drive it back to Arlington after they
stop in Williamsport," Dale told them.
     "Okay.  Let Cary and I look at things, then we can tell you
how we run a sale and what you get when we sign a contract,"
Rusty said.
     "That's fine.  Where do you want to start?" Dale asked.
     "I think Cary will start in the kitchen and I'll start in
the garage, then we'll divide up the rest as we start through the
house.  Some rooms won't take too long and others will have more
in them."
     "That's fine," Craig said.  "My parents are working on the
last room right now, emptying drawers so all of us can see what
it here."
     "Good, then everything that isn't in the corner over there,
or packed up is for the sale?" Rusty clarified.
     "Yes, unless we discover some hidden treasure we can't do
without," Dale laughed.
     Rusty pulled a small recorder out of his pocket and Cary did
the same.  They headed to the kitchen and garage.
     Dale, Craig and Joey watched them walk out of the room.
     "I sure have a better feeling about these men than Phil
Baker," Dale said.
     "Maybe it's because they're gay?" Craig questioned.
     "No, I don't think it's that.  They just seem more sincere,"
he answered.
     "They seem like neat guys," Joey said.
     "Tell me, because I'm ignorant, but what's so funny about
those sweatshirts?" Dale asked.
     Craig laughed.
     "Fire Island on Long Island and Provincetown on Cape Cod are
two of the big gay areas in the country, especially in the
summer.  They are expensive areas to visit and property values
are sky-high, but they are 'the places' to be seen," Craig said.
     "So, the 'Immigration Service' and 'Border Patrols' are a
joke, like to keep non-gay people from going there," Joey said.
"I think it's funny."
     Dale understood.  "That is really funny.  I've heard of
those places, but didn't have time to think it through.  Yes,
Joey, you can keep them, but I'm like Craig, you have to walk
either 50 feet in front of us or 50 feet behind."
     All three of them laughed.
     * * * * *
     Rusty and Cary spent almost an hour and a half going through
the items in the house and were ready to sit down with Dale and
Craig to talk about the sale.  They had met Craig's parents and
were impressed they had driven down from Arlington to help "their
sons" as both Frank and Doris had called them.
     "Okay," Rusty said.  "Here's what we do.  We have four
people who will come in to help us.  We'll set up tables and put
items out so we can price them.  This is a good area and you have
a lot of really nice things, so we will sell a lot the first day
at a good price, higher than other areas of the city.  If someone
sees an item they want, but doesn't want to pay the price, we
have a 'bid box'.  They can put their name and phone number on a
piece of paper; note the item and how much they are willing to
pay.  Sometimes the item will sell before we look at the bids and
other times they get it at the price they are willing to pay.
The second day, everything is automatically marked down 25% and
the third day is 50% off the marked price.  You have the right to
put minimum prices on anything and also to request we put a
higher price than we have marked on something.
     "We advertise the sale on Sunday with a small ad announcing
the sale.  Then on Thursday, the day the sale starts, we run a
more detailed ad in the paper.  People have until Monday to pick
up large items.  We clean, mop floors and vacuum so the house is
clean when we are though.  We have people who will come in and
buy things that don't sell for their flea markets, or we can have
you designate a charity to donate it to.  Those charities usually
will pick things up.
     "We charge 30% of the total taken in and are responsible for
the advertising," Rusty said.
     "You have a lot of really good things that will sell well,
especially the shop equipment in the garage, all of the kitchen
items and furniture.  Bedding and towels sell well.  Men's
clothing does sometimes and sometimes it doesn't.  These clothes
are better than most we sell, but it's hard to tell, it just
takes the right people who attend the sale, Cary said.
     "We think we might be able to gross about $30,000, so you
might have anywhere from $17 thousand to $21 thousand as your
share, but that's no guarantee.  Weather and the right mix of
people are the determining factor," Rusty added.
     "Geez," Dale said.  "That's sure a different report than we
got from Phil Baker earlier today."
     Rusty and Cary both laughed.  "We don't take our share off
the top and then charge you another 35% to boot," Rusty told
them.
     "Harlan Holman told us you men were good at what you do,"
Dale said.
     "And. fair, also," Craig added.
     "What kind of timeframe are we looking at?" Dale asked.
     Cary pulled out his calendar.  "We had a cancellation.  An
estate got tied up in court as the woman's daughter thought she
should get everything.  Her mother left her $10,000 with the
stipulation that if she contested the will, she would get
nothing.  The estate is worth a couple million and she and her
mother had been estranged for twenty years.  The daughter got a
shyster lawyer to take the suit on a percentage of what the value
of the estate should be and they are going to court.  She's
demanding a jury trial and will probably lose."
     "That's too bad," Dale said.
     "Yes, but it's a fact of life," Rusty said.
     "We can start pricing the week after next and I think we can
start the sale the next week, the first day of the sale will be
two weeks from tomorrow," Cary told them.
     Dale looked at Craig, with a question in his eyes.  Craig
nodded his head.
     "I don't think there's any question.  You're going to have
the sale," Dale said.
     "We'll do a good job for you and you have the right to come
in the day before to look things over, check us on prices and
take anything you might have missed that you want," Rusty said.
     "I'll fill out a contract and we will need a house key,"
Cary told them.
     "That's fine.  Let me get an extra key," Dale said, going to
the closet in Joe's bedroom.  He came back with the key and the
alarm code written on a card.
     They visited while Cary filled out the simple contract.
     "You've really had some excitement in Williamsport the last
few days, haven't you?" Rusty said.
     "We sure have and I don't think it's all over with yet,"
Craig said.
     "Cary and I got a big laugh about the ministers lackey that
got his arm broken.  I'd sure like to shake the hand of the
fellow who did that."
     Dale stood up, bowed, held out his hand and said, "At your
service."
     "No shit?"  Rusty was impressed.
     "It was I.  He was yelling obscenities and had just thrown
his 16-year old son out of the house because he'd warned our
group we were being watched.  He came out swinging and I grabbed
his wrist and gave it a twist to back him into the wall.  I never
realized that a bone made so much noise when it broke."
     "Cary and I live in the Montrose District, it's the big gay
area here.  Man, you would be a national hero if you came to the
bars down there tonight.  You would have more drinks purchased
for you than you could drink in a year."
     Dale was a little embarrassed.  Craig was absolutely glowing
with pride.
     "Well, quite frankly the man is no smarter than Jimmy Bob.
If Jimmy Bob told him to jump, he'd ask 'how high' on the way
up."
     All of them laughed.
     "Seriously, would you like to join us at our favorite bar
tonight?" Rusty asked.
     "If it were under any other circumstances, we probably
would, but Craig's parents are here to help us work, as is Joey.
We've got a lot to do before we leave tomorrow afternoon," Dale
said.
     "We really do appreciate the invitation, though.  Maybe we
can come to Houston another time and get together," Craig told
them.
     "Or maybe we could come to Williamsport.  We've never been
in that area of the state," Rusty said.
     "It's beautiful.  You guys would love it," Craig said.
     Dale signed the simple contract and they shook hands all
around.  Dale and Craig walked them to their vehicle, a sensible
(for their work) GMC Suburban.
     "They were nice fellows," Craig told Dale as they drove off.
"I'd welcome them as friends anytime."
     "I have to agree with you.  They seem sensible and honest,
too," Dale said.
     In their van, Rusty and Cary expressed the same opinion,
however, Rusty added, "What did you think about Joey?  Isn't he
going to be a heartthrob in a few years?"
     "What do you mean, 'in a few years'?  He's already one and
knows it.  He's adorable," Cary agreed.
     * * * * *
     By this time it was a little after 6:30.  Everybody else was
in the living room, sitting in chairs when Dale and Craig joined
them.
     "I can guess that these fellows are going to have the sale,"
Doris said.
     "No question about it.  The other guy ought to have a sign
around his neck that says 'Rip-off Artist'," Craig told them.
     Dale gave them the details of the two offers.  Everyone
agreed with he and Craig.
     "The kitchen is too torn up to fix anything to eat.  We can
either order in or go out somewhere," Dale said.
     "What?  No Happy Hour?" Craig said, pretending to whine.
     "Joey, is there any liquor in the house, or did you drink it
all?" Frank teased.
     "Yeah, there's a whole bunch in the lower cabinet next to
the sink on the left side," he said.  "It's all on a pull-out
cart."
     "Sounds good to me, I didn't do anything with it yet.  Come
on, Dad," Craig said to Frank.
     "You fellows need to pack that up and put it in the trunk of
one of the cars and take it home with you.  No use donating it to
the estate sale, they can't sell it so it will just disappear to
their house," Frank told them.
     "I need to call Harlan Holman and tell him that Gable and
Clark are having our estate sale and that they may be contacting
him about it," Dale said, pulling his card out of his shirt
pocket.
     He left to go to the kitchen to use the telephone.
     Doris and Joey were in the living room by themselves.
     "Joey, are you sure you've gotten everything out and packed
up that you want to keep?" Doris asked.
     "The only things I haven't looked through are Dad's dresser
drawers.  I know he has some nice jewelry; cuff links and stuff
like that and there may some personal things, too, that Dale says
I should take.  Do I have to look at them tonight?" he asked.
     "No, I know you're tired.  We all are, but I just wanted to
make sure you weren't leaving anything behind.
     "Thanks.  I'm really happy that you and grandpa could come
down here to help out.  Both Dads said that you were neat
people."
     "I don't know about that, but we love Craig.  We don't know
Dale that well, because we've not been together that much, but we
think he's pretty special because he loves our son, and now they
both have you and I know you all love each other."
     "Yeah, I think we do.  They are great guys," Joey said.
     About that time Frank came back in the room carrying a tray
of drinks, followed by Craig, who was carrying a plate of
crackers and cheese.
     "Joey, what do you want to drink?" Frank asked.
     "There should be some cold Coke's in the fridge.  I'll get
one," he said, jumping up.
     Dale came back from talking to Harlan and soon they were all
settled where they could talk to each other.  Frank and Craig
were drinking Beefeater Gin and Doris and Dale were drinking
Dewars and soda.
     "Joey, you get to decide what we do for dinner this evening.
This is your last night in Houston, except maybe to come visit
friends," Dale told him.
     "This is your one chance to go somewhere that's super
expensive," Frank teased.
     Everyone laughed.
     "Dads will just take it out of my allowance, so we might as
well go to Mickey Dee's," Joey said with a straight face.
     Everyone laughed again.
     "I think these two are just going to make my life a living
hell," Craig said, laughing.
     Everyone joined him.
     Joey was enjoying this.  He and Joe used to verbally spar
back and forth with each other.  He was glad that his new family
did that, also.
     In the end, they decided to go to a really great seafood
restaurant just north of the downtown area.  The restaurant
served family style although you ordered the quantities you
wanted of the various dishes, then passed the serving dishes
around the table.  The wait staff was attentive to replenishing
dishes as needed if you wanted more.
     * * * * *
     After they arrived back at the house, it was apparent that
everyone was just about done in from the days activities, after
all they had been up since 5:30 or so that morning.  All retired
to their respective rooms.
     * * * * *
     (to be continued)
     * * * * *
     Author's Note:  Never in my wildest dreams did I think this
story would go for this long.  I continue to be astounded at the
number of emails I receive each time a new chapter is posted and
I thank you for each and every one of them.  Everyone has fallen
in love with these characters and their adventures in the town of
Williamsport.  I have no plans to end the story anytime soon, but
may resolve some of the current open issues and then skip ahead
of couple of years in time to look at the results of some
groundwork that has been laid in previous chapters.
     The only way I can learn whether or not I should continue is
from my readers' feedback.  I would appreciate your comments,
criticism, suggestions, and anything else that you would care to
say.  All Email will be answered.  If you wish to receive e-mail
notification of subsequent postings, please let me know by
sending your request to the following e-mail address:
TulsaDriller7@aol.com
     My special thanks for proofreading help to Paul Daventon,
who has taken time to help me catch obvious errors.