Date: Thu, 1 May 2003 10:30:52 EDT
From: Tulsadriller7@aol.com
Subject: Tales from the Ranch, Chapter 42/?

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 42:  Not Just a Usual Sunday
     Bret Senior wasn't in a good mood when he and his family
arrived home from church on Sunday morning.  He had convinced
himself that he was going to shake off the treasurer's office.
The last three years had been stressful to him and he hadn't
realized until this past week just how much it was bothering him
until he'd had no contact with Jimmy Bob.  He realized that he
dreaded to answer the telephone because Jimmy Bob had some
"errand" he wanted done, or to go soothe the feelings of a member
who had gotten upset about something and try to extract money
from them.
     So, at the insistence of the membership that morning, he had
agreed to go to the jail to visit Jimmy Bob in the afternoon to
find out what he could about the incorporation of the church, the
legal status and if there was an attorney of record.  Or, he had
a bad thought, he didn't remember having made an annual report or
payment to the Secretary of State.  The church could be operating
outside the law.
     Not knowing how to read their father, Paul had gone to the
living room to look at the comics and the catalog inserts.  Terry
went to the basement bedroom he shared with Paul to change
clothes and Sally disappeared into her room.
     "I'll go visit Jimmy Bob and see what I can find out, but
I'm still getting rid of the treasurer's job," Bret told his
wife.
     "Good.  You've been in a much better mood this week without
him haranguing you about something or other at least once every
hour.  I always knew when the telephone rang after we went to bed
that he'd thought of something he wanted you to do."
     "Yeah, and remember the time we didn't answer the phone a
couple of years ago and he drove over here at 2:15 in the morning
to tell me that he didn't think our phone was working?"
     Persistent guy, isn't he?" Beth laughed.  "Yes, I remember
it too well."
     Beth had baked a ham the night before, so that was the main
dish for their family dinner.  It didn't take her long to fix
green beans, and corn and she had already fixed macaroni and
cheese the night before, it just had to be baked.
     About 15 minutes after the family arrived home from the
Victory Temple, Bret Junior came in from the garage.  Beth had
seen him get out of Tom's car and wave goodbye as he started up
the driveway.
     "Hi honey, did you make it to church in time?" she asked.
     "Yeah, not a problem.  They didn't have a very long lesson
in Sunday School, so I told Miss Agnes that I had to go to the
bathroom and then just left and walked over to St. James."
     "Bret!"  His father started to admonish him, then laughed.
"I'm sure her lessons must be as dull as can be.  I've never
heard her talk in anything except a monotone."
     "Wait until you hear her give a five page report at one of
the women's meetings," Beth said.  The three of them laughed.
     Bret Junior was thinking that was the first time he and his
parents had shared a joke in a long, long time.
     "Well, how was their service?" his father asked.
     "Do you really want to know?" Bret questioned.
     "Yeah, I really do.  Maybe we'll all go over there next week
and visit.  Would you like that?"
     "Well, it's sure different than anything you've ever seen at
Victory Temple, that's for sure."
     "In what way?" Beth questioned.
     "To begin with, that place seems huge.  The night I helped
with the flowers I figured out there are about 750 chairs, they
don't have pews, where the people sit and I don't think there
were very many that were empty, either," Bret started.
     "And I always thought we had a lot of people when we had 200
show up," his father replied.
     "The music is wonderful.  That organ is huge and part of
it's on the back wall and I've heard that it cost almost a
million dollars!"
     "I've heard that, too.  The Williamson family gave it as a
memorial gift when Marty's grandparents were killed in that plane
crash several years ago.  I remember hearing Morris Johnsmore
talking about it," Bret Senior said.
     "Then the choir is all men and boys and they wear black
robes with a white thing that's kind of like a big, loose shirt.
The little boys wear ruffled collars; it's kind of neat.  Today
the priest and everybody helping him were wearing red and gold
robes because they were remembering St. Luke.  He wrote the book
in the Bible and was a martyr.  That's why the robes were red.
When I went there before the robes were green and white."
     "Sounds pretty," Beth said.
     "Then they use a thing that a guy swings.  It burns incense
and makes a lot of smoke.  I don't know why they do it, though,
but it looks neat and smells good."
     Bret and his wife looked at each other.  He shrugged his
shoulders.
     "They stand up and sit down - and kneel on cushions a lot,
too, like when they pray.  Eddie said that they stand to sing,
sit to listen and kneel to pray.  It's real reverent and
religious, too."
     "Sounds like it," his father said.  He was getting more
curious as he listened to his son.
     "Then when they go to take communion, people take turns
going to the rail in front of the altar.  You kneel there and the
priest puts a wafer. Tom said it represents the body of Christ.
he puts this wafer in your hand and you eat it.  Then another
priest comes along with this silver cup thing and gives you some
wine to drink - it's real wine, too.  Tom said that it represents
the blood of Christ.  And, everyone drinks out of the same cup,
too."
     Bret's first thought was that it sounded unsanitary and he
didn't know if he'd want to do that or not, then decided that
Bret Junior must not be telling the whole story, but didn't ask
any questions.
     "Dad, how come we never have communion at our church?" Bret
Junior asked.
     "I honestly don't know.  I grew up in the Baptist Church and
we used to have communion on the first Sunday of every quarter,
but I never thought about Victory Temple not having it."
     "Do you suppose that Jimmy Bob didn't know anything about
it?" he asked.
     "Well, when I think about it, that wouldn't surprise me,"
his father told him.
     "Well, St. James has it every Sunday and every weekday, too.
They've got these chapels, called side altars, where Fr. George
says mass during the week."
     "That's interesting," Bret said.  "I think I'll talk to
Morris tomorrow and see if it's okay for all of us to visit
there.  Maybe he can tell me a little more about what to expect.
Would you like to go there to visit, Beth?" he asked.
     "It sounds like we might be shopping for a new church to
attend, so I guess we might as well start there since that's
where your boss attends and we know some of the other people,
too," she answered.
     By this time their Sunday dinner was ready to put on the
table.  Beth spoke to Bret, "Honey, go tell the others that we
are ready to sit down to eat."
     "Okay, Mom."  He went to the bottom of the stairs to call
Sally, then to the basement stairway to call his brothers.  Terry
opened the bedroom door and started up the stairs.
     "Where's Paul?" he questioned.
     "I think in the living room looking at the paper," Terry
said.
     By the time they got back to the dining room, Paul and Sally
were already at their places, as was their father.
     Beth placed the last dish on the table, then sat down at the
same time Bret Junior and Terry did.
     "Paul?" his father said.
     The family bowed their heads while Paul said a short
blessing, ending with, ".and we're thankful our family is happy
again.  Amen."
     Bret Senior thanked him, saying, "I say Amen to that, too."
     * * * * *
     Frank and Doris left about 2:45 for their drive back to
Arlington.  Doris drove Frank's new car and he drove the car she
usually drove around town.  It was newer than the Buick Frank
drove to work.  She enjoyed driving it but it didn't make any
difference which of them drove it.  The Buick Frank had been
driving was almost 10 years old, so it definitely needed to be
replaced.
     They made the trip in about three and a half hours; traffic
was light, even going through Ft. Worth.  However, both she and
Frank were glad to be home.  They'd had a wonderful few days with
Craig and his new family.
     It was hard to think of Craig having his own family, with
Dale and now Joey making it complete.  They had also noticed that
Craig had really "blossomed" from his old self.  He had always
been a happy person, but there was something else and they could
only attribute it to his being in love and happily married.
     * * * * *
     As Dale, Craig and Joey were going back up the stairs,
Vernon Ernst stopped them to say hello.  Craig introduced Dale as
his 'partner' and left him and Joey to talk to Vernon while he
went to their apartment to get the names and phone number of
Paula Hunter and Carole Stanhope.  Mitsy came down the stairs
ahead of him, going to her favorite spot in the corner of the
lawn.
     "Here are the names and phone number of the women who handle
estate sales," he said, handing a note to Vernon.  They held a
sale for us when Dale sold his house recently and they did quite
well with it.  Of course a lot depends on what is being sold,
along with the weather and the mix of people who attend."
     "I realize that.  I'll give these women a call today.  My
sister is off on a guilt trip right now and is not able to help
me with anything."  He sighed.  "I should have moved my mother to
El Paso to live near me, but she thought since she had lived here
all her life she wanted to stay and be near my sister.  The
unfortunate thing is they never really got along with each
other."
     "We're sorry to hear that," Craig told him.
     Dale and Joey both were thinking how fortunate they were to
now belong to a family unit with the support of other members.
     They told Vernon goodbye and Craig promised to attend the
funeral the next morning.
     * * * * *
     When they were back in the apartment, Craig asked Joey to
help strip the bed in his room and also the sleeper-sofa in the
living room.  Then they put clean sheets on Joey's bed.  The
soiled sheets went into the laundry room.  He would probably wash
them later in the week so Mrs. Hopkins didn't have too much
laundry to attend to.
     The three of them piled on the furniture in the living room,
Dale and Craig in their favorite position on the love seat and
Joey in a recliner across the coffee table from them.
     "Well, bud, you did a beautiful job on that solo this
morning.  Your grandparents were surprised and very proud of
you," Dale said.
     "Thanks, it was really an easy one.  Paul does some neat
things with the music, doesn't he?"
     "He sure does," Craig said.
     "Oh, I almost forgot.  Tonight is the first of the
"Inquirer's Classes" at the church.  We're to go to Evening
Prayer at 5:30, then the meeting is in the second floor parlor
afterward.  Do you want to go with us?" Dale asked Joey.
     "Sure, I have lots of questions."
     "Well, this isn't just a single class.  I think this goes on
for several sessions, then if you decide you want to join the
church, you have to go through another class, be baptized and
confirmed by the bishop."
     "It's more complicated than I thought," Joey said.
     "Does that bother you?" Craig asked.
     "No, I'm cool with it," Joey answered.
     "I want to become a member," Dale said, "so I'm in for the
whole thing."
     "I'm going to attend, too.  There are a lot of things I
don't fully understand and I was only 12 years old when I went
through confirmation class," Craig told them.
     "Well, I guess we'll attend as a family, then," Dale said,
giving Craig a kiss on his cheek.
     "When are we going to bring the big TV up here?" Joey asked.
     "Well," Craig said, "I guess we could do it anytime, but I
promised you we would get an entertainment center cabinet to put
this TV and the other things you want in your room."
     "I remember.  Where do we get that?" he questioned.
     "They have nice units like that at Best Buy and Electronic
Home," Craig answered.  "We need to figure out what it has to
accommodate and make sure there is room for your VCR, tape deck,
CD player and tuner as well as this TV," he added.
     "We'll have to see if we can rent a 4-wheel platform to move
that TV, it's too large for us to try to carry from the parking
lot to the elevator and inside here," Dale said.
     "Is the other electronic stuff where we can get to it
easily?" Craig asked.
     "Yeah, I think that stuff was put to the front, just behind
the TV, so it shouldn't be too hard to get it out and loaded into
the Blazer.  We really should get the pickup to haul the TV
because it won't fit in my truck without laying it on its back.
I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dale said.
     "Why don't you bring a pickup home tomorrow evening and we
can move the TV then.  We could go get the other things now, then
make a list of the measurements and shop for the furniture
tomorrow evening, too," Craig suggested.
     "That's neat," Joey said.
     "Now, do you have your class schedule for tomorrow?" Dale
asked.
     "Yeah, and lunch money and my books.  I'm going to eat lunch
with Bret Jenkins, Junior tomorrow."
     "Good, maybe you'll run into some of the other kids from
church, and I'm sure you will meet a lot of nice kids in your
various classes, too," Craig told him.
     "That brings up something we need to talk about," Dale said.
     He cleared his throat while thinking.
     "Joey, we've talked about this a little bit before, but
Craig and I don't go around waving flags and telling everyone
that we are gay.  I. and I think Craig, too, don't really have a
problem with people knowing we are gay, however, that information
could hurt all of us a lot if the wrong person started causing
problems and getting people riled up.  You saw what kind of
problems this mess with Jimmy Bob Jones caused, didn't you?"
     "Yes."
     "Well, this is just a good example as to why certain
information needs to be kept quiet.  You just have to use good
judgment about what you say to others about who you live with and
what all of our relationships are to each other.  This could
cause you your own set of problems with some of the kids who
might decide to taunt you because you live with two queers - or
whatever nasty name they decide to hang on us.  They might also
accuse you of being gay and that's a label you don't need in high
school."
     "I understand, Dads," Joey said.
     "Well, Williamsport is a lot smaller than Houston and it's
not as easy to get lost here as there.  Both Craig and I have
responsible jobs and are visible in the community because of what
we do and whom we work for.  Your other Dads' business partner is
okay with the fact we are gay and my boss is, also, but we don't
want to do anything to embarrass them, either.  We all have to
live in the same area and share the same space, so just use
caution about whom you tell and what you tell.  Okay?" Dale
asked.
     "I understand."
     "We know you do, Joey, but there are those who like to cause
problems.  We just don't want to see you hurt or have problems
with them because of our sexual preference," Craig said.
     "I know, some people just can't deal with people who don't
fit their own lifestyle pattern, right?"
     "You are absolutely 100% right there," Dale said.
     "Now, let's go get the things we can bring home from storage
while we still have time," Craig said.
     * * * * *
     Bret Senior decided about 3 o'clock that he couldn't put off
the visit to the jail any longer.  He was dreading this more than
anything he had ever done.  In the first place, he hadn't seen
Jimmy Bob since he had been arrested on Monday.  He didn't think
anyone else had been there to visit, and he wondered about
Marlene.  From what he'd heard, he doubted she had bothered,
either.
     He presented himself at the Captain's desk.  "Would be
possible to see Jimmy Bob Jones?"
     "Sure, no problem.  Do you want a chair to sit on in front
of his cell while you talk to him?"
     "No, I won't be staying long," Bret said, hoping he was
right.
     "Let me get one of the Jailers to take you back."  He handed
him a tray.  "Empty your pockets in this.  Can't have you taking
any sharp objects back there."
     Bret emptied his pockets.  All he had was his billfold, a
handkerchief, a set of keys and $1.27 in change.  The Sergeant
patted him down, then told him he could put the items back in his
pocket.  They entered the door to go to the cells.
     "Weren't you with him last Sunday night over by the church?"
the Sergeant asked.
     "Yeah, I was driving the van."
     "Thought you looked familiar," he said.  "Well, the old
Rev's got himself in a heap of trouble, don't he?" the Sergeant
said.
     "Yeah, he does."  Bret didn't want to make conversation.
     "We put him around the corner where the other prisoners
can't see him.  They were calling him a lot of names.  We don't
need that in here.  Everybody already has enough problems to deal
with, so that quieted them down for the most part.
     "Good idea."
     About this time they rounded a corner and went through
another door that had bars on it.  Bret felt apprehensive.  He
didn't know if it was the bars or that he was going to see Jimmy
Bob.
     "Just push this button when you want to leave and one of us
will come let you out," he said.
     "Hey, Rev. Ya got company," the Sergeant told him.
     Jimmy Bob didn't look very good.  His pasty skin looked
splotchy and he hadn't shaved for a couple of days.  He was
sitting on his cot, reading a paperback book.  There was another
paperback and a Bible on a shelf.  He looked at Bret.
     "How are you doing, Jimmy Bob?" he said gently.
     "Bret, thanks for coming to see me.  Nobody else has except
for that Father George.  He came to see me yesterday and prayed
for me, then later he sent this book, it's called 'The Book of
Common Prayer'.  I don't understand most of it, but there are
some nice prayers in it and all the Psalms are in it, too."
     "That was nice of him," Bret said.
     "What's gonna happen to my church, Bret?"  Jimmy Bob seemed
really concerned.
     "I don't know.  That's one of the reasons I came to see you
today.  It's about our incorporation.  Do we have an attorney who
looks out for the church's legal affairs?"
     "Naw, haven't had one since right after I came here.  He
insisted we have a board of directors and a bunch of other stuff.
We didn't need that."
     "What about our annual filing?  We have to file an annual
report with the Secretary of State's office.  Has that been
done?"
     "No, that was just some other stuff the government doesn't
need to know about.  It didn't make any sense to me, anyway,"
Jimmy Bob told him.
     Bret figured that his next move would be to contact the
Secretary of State's office to see how long it had been since
anything had been filed.
     "Have you seen my wife?" Jimmy Bob asked.
     "No, it appears that she's moved out.  We had the locks
changed on the church doors and the parsonage, so she can't get
back in," Bret told him.
     "Bret, I've made a real mess out of things.  Tell me, did
anybody look around in my office?"
     "Yes, Riley and Lois Boyd and I went through everything in
the office."
     "Did you look. in those file folders?" he asked, hesitating.
     "Yes, we found the money."  Bret decided not to beat around
the bush.
     "How much was there?" Jimmy Bob asked.
     "You mean you don't know?"  Bret was really surprised.
     "No."
     "Look, did you take all the cash that was in the collection
plate every Sunday?"
     "Yes."
     "Nobody else got any of it?  The church secretary?"
     "No.  I always went back to the church in the afternoon and
opened the safe and took the cash out of the bag.  She deposited
the checks on Monday," Jimmy Bob told him, without any sign of
remorse.
     "Why?"
     "I dunno, just easy money."
     "Yeah, one hundred and fifteen thousand dollars worth of
'easy money', as you call it!!
     "That much?" Jimmy Bob asked.  I really had no idea.
     "Yes, Jimmy Bob, there was $56,000 in your desk, $41,000 in
your bedroom and almost $18,000 in Marlene's room."
     "There's more," Jimmy Bob told him.
     "What?" Bret was almost livid.
     "Yeah, there's five big coffee cans in the attic, under the
insulation next to the trap door."
     "You've got to be kidding?"  Bret was dumbstruck.
     "You might as well go get it so someone else doesn't find
it.  You can have it if you want.  Nobody else knows it's there
and it won't do me any good.  No lawyer can get me out of this
without me being in jail for a long time."
     "How much is there?" Bret asked.
     "There's a hundred thousand dollars in each coffee can,"
Jimmy Bob said sadly.
     "Geez," Bret said.  He thought he was going to be sick.  "I
can't believe this.  The church is in trouble with the bank for
not being able to make payments on the note, you were trying to
get me to put a second mortgage on my house to help the church
out and that's $75 thousand that my family needs worse that your
Goddamn church!!!"  Bret was almost yelling.
     "We couldn't pay the bills the church has and you didn't
even have sense enough to pay the insurance on your car, so now
we can't recover any money for that."  Bret was pissed.
     "You know, Jimmy Bob, you are always talking about people
going to hell.  Well, I hope they have a place reserved for you
there because if anyone is going there, it's got to be you."
     "Bret, take the money I'm giving you.  Shut up and leave me
alone. I don't want to see you again."
     Jimmy Bob started crying.
     Bret walked around the corner and pushed the button next to
the barred door.  He realized that he was shaking and was about
to lose the contents of his stomach.
     "As soon as the Sergeant opened the door, he asked,
"Restroom!!  Emergency!!!"
     "Right to your left, through that door."
     Bret barely made it to the stool before everything came up.
     * * * * *
     Everyone had done a good job of packing boxes in Houston and
they had been labeled when packed and stored carefully.  The
electronic components were in boxes right behind the large TV set
and speakers were there, too.  It didn't take long to find the
things they needed and fill the back of the Blazer.  They had to
lower the second seat to provide more cargo room so Craig sat
between Dale and Joey on their return trip.  It took each several
trips to unload and get everything upstairs, even using the
elevator.  Mitsy was having a great time running up and down the
stairs to meet them at the top and bottom on each trip.
     By the time they had everything stacked in the living room
and Joey's bedroom, it was time to freshen up to go to St. James.
     Evening Prayer was a short service of two scripture readings
and the small group saying the Magnificat, Nunc dimittis and
Apostles' Creed together ending with prayers and a benediction.
     They made their way to the parlor while Fr. George went to
the vesting sacristy to remove his surplice and stole.  The group
was made up of mostly adults, but there were three other young
people who were in high school including Bret Jenkins, Jr.  Joey
had already met one of the other boys who sang in the choir.
Paul had set up a refreshment table with crackers and cheese,
some fruit, two bottles of wine and several bottles of soft
drinks.
     It was a good session with a general over-all view of the
faith from historical times to present day, covering the
apostolic succession of Bishops from St. Peter, through the
Anglican Church in England and the American Episcopal Church.
The next item covered was the service in general and at St. James
in particular, giving the reasons as to why certain ceremonies of
the rite had evolved, talking about liturgical colors, special
services such as the Evening Prayer they had just taken part in.
     "In the next sessions, we will walk through each service in
detail and I'll explain the roles of the priest, other ministers
and choir.  Many things happen at the same time in various places
in the service, so a couple of sessions from now we will have an
'instructed mass' where we stop before each section of the
service and explain what is happening and why.  We'll have the
choir and organ to help with this, so it will be just like a
Sunday morning solemn high mass.  If you want to invite friends
or relatives to attend with you, they will be welcome, especially
if they have any interest in what we do here at St. James," Fr.
George told them.
     After the class was over, Dale told Fr. George that they
would like to speak to him when it was convenient.
     "I have time right now, if you want to come to my office,"
Fr. George told him.
     As they were walking to his office Fr. George inquired as to
their trip to Houston and told Joey how much his voice added to
the choir.  This made Joey very proud.  It made Dale and Craig
proud, also.
     Fr. George directed them to seats in front of his desk and
they pulled the chairs in a circle so they could visit.
     "Thanks for the class this evening," Dale said.  "I felt it
was really useful to me to learn more about the structure of the
church and the history."
     The others made noises of agreement.
     "That's what these classes are for.  It's easier to sit,
listen and ask questions rather than trying to read a book, then
wondering what it said," Fr. George told them.
     They all laughed.
     "Fr. George, we won't take up your time this evening because
we haven't eaten yet, but we wanted to discuss a memorial service
of some kind of for our father, Joe.  We have the brass urn with
his ashes.  Would it be appropriate to bury them in the plot next
to where my mother is buried?" Dale asked.
     "Certainly.  It can be done quietly and we can either have a
short burial office here in the chapel with a graveside committal
service at the plot.  Or just a graveside service.  It's up to
you."
     "Well, I don't think that Dad was a religious person as he
didn't ever attend church, but he was a good man and fair to
everyone he met," Joey said, wiping some tears from his eyes.
     "It doesn't make any difference, at least to me.  I've
buried people who were in church every time the door was open and
they weren't exactly good people.  Although we honor a person's
memory at a funeral, we really do it for the one's who are left
to remind all of us that life is transitory and God loves us
all."
     "Thanks, Fr. George.  I guess the next step is to find out
when we can do this?" Dale asked.
     "I assume this is a private service with just the three of
you attending?" Fr. George asked.
     Dale looked at Craig and Joey, who nodded yes.
     "Probably, yes," Dale said.
     Fr. George looked at his calendar.  "How about next Saturday
morning at 10 o'clock.  We can have a short chapel service if you
want, then go to the cemetery for the burial, if that's
satisfactory."
     "That would be fine.  Do we have to do anything?" Dale
asked.
     "No, you tell me where the ashes are to be buried and I'll
arrange with the cemetery to have the grave opened and closed.
You can bring the urn to the church later in the week, if you
want," Fr. George told them.
     "Thanks," Dale said, standing up to go.
     Fr. George gave each of them a hug, in turn, and walked them
to the door of his office.  "Goodnight fellows, have a wonderful
week."
     They told him goodnight, then made their way to their car.
     * * * * *
     Bret Senior was shaken to the very center of his being.
'How could Jimmy Bob do this to all of the loyal members who were
in his congregation?' he asked himself when leaving his parking
space at the jail.
     The only thing he could think to do was to get to the
parsonage immediately and secure the coffee cans that were
stuffed full of cash.  He was shaking so hard it was a wonder the
car wasn't lurching down the street.  The parsonage was less than
a mile from the jail, in a good part of town.  There had been
opposition to buying it about 10 years ago as some in the
congregation rightfully thought their minister shouldn't live
that well when they were having a hard time making ends meet.
However, Riley and Lois Boyd spearheaded the support and the
property was purchased.  The monthly mortgage payment was one of
the few payments that was made on time each month.  Bret was
thinking very evil thoughts as he parked in the driveway.  He
hoped that none of the church members drove past while he was
there.
     Going inside, he found the opening to the attic area in the
hallway above the bathroom door.  He couldn't even reach the
trapdoor, let alone get inside.  He went to the garage and found
a 6-foot aluminum ladder, taking it back to the hallway.
Perfect.  He went up the ladder, finding the trapdoor was only a
panel and pushed it aside.  Sure enough, right where he'd been
told they would be.  Five 3-pound coffee cans.  It was painful to
use his right arm, but he managed to pull the first one out,
setting it on the top step of the ladder and opened it.  The
money was all in fifty and hundred dollar bills and appeared to
be rolled and banded into lots of $10,000 each.  Bret felt weak.
He'd never in his life seen that much money in one place.
     Carefully, and with some pain, he moved the cans out,
setting them on the floor.  After he retrieved the last one, he
pulled the panel back into place and returned the ladder to the
garage.  He found five plastic grocery sacks under the kitchen
counter and placed one coffee can in each.  It was surprising how
little a half-million dollars weighed.
     Bret almost felt dizzy.  He had recovered the money and now
didn't know what to do with it.  Well, it belonged to the church.
Driving home he thought about how he had almost put a second
mortgage of $75,000 on his home to help the church.  He was
pissed.
     He parked on the driveway at his house and carried his find
inside in two trips.  Beth was in the kitchen, loading the
dishwasher.
     "Where are the kids?" he questioned, sounding very abrupt.
     "Bret and Paul went to the library and Terry went to the
Radford's to play with Josh.  Sally went next door to the
Christy's to play with Angela," she said, eyeing the plastic
sacks.
     He sat the sacks on the kitchen table.
     "Sit down," he said.
     "What do you have in the sacks?  It looks like coffee.  We
wouldn't drink that much coffee in a year."
     "You will never guess what's in here," he said with a sigh.
     "Did you go see Jimmy Bob?" Beth asked.  She could tell that
her husband was troubled, more so than she had ever seen him.
     "Yes.  There haven't been any annual reports filed for the
church for years and I don't even think the annual corporation
fees have been paid, either.  I'm not sure what our legal status
is right now.  I guess I need to contact the Secretary of State's
office and see what to do next, although I think a good lawyer
needs to be brought in on this, too."
     "That doesn't sound good," Beth told him.
     "It isn't good and what you are looking at in these cans
right now is more money that Jimmy Bob took from the church and
stashed away.  He told me that he probably would never get out of
jail, so I should take it - he gave it to me."  Tears started
running down his cheeks.
     "Except I'm too honest to do take it.  It belongs to the
church."  Bret was sobbing, his shoulders shaking.
     "How much is it?" Beth questioned.  She was upset that her
husband was acting this way.
     "According to what Jimmy Bob told me, each of these cans has
a hundred thousand dollars in it."  He got up from the table and
ran to the bathroom.  Beth heard him heave several times.  She
was stunned and afraid, too.
     Finally, Bret returned to the kitchen looking pale and
wobbly.
     "I'm sorry, that happened to me after I left his jail cell,
too."
     "Bret, are you okay?"
     "No, I'm not.  There is more than enough money here to pay
off all the loans on the various church properties.  The thing
is, even though the church doesn't pay income taxes, Jimmy Bob
stole the money and he sure didn't pay any income taxes on it.
He told me he was giving me the money, but I could never sleep at
night, as I'd be afraid someone would find out about it and tell
on me.  It's not his money to give away, anyway, but he said
nobody else knew about it."
     "What are you going to do?" Beth asked.
     "I'm going to hide it in our bedroom closet, then tomorrow
morning I'm going to talk to my boss and see what he recommends
and have him help me get a lawyer to straighten this whole mess
out.  It's beyond me and certainly the church has enough money to
pay an attorney to take care of all this for us," Bret said.
     "I don't know if I can sleep, knowing all that money is in
the house," Beth said.  "But you are right, we can't keep it.  It
was money given to the church and belongs to the congregation."
     "Do you know what really galls me?  Jimmy Bob tried to get
me, and some others, to put second mortgages on their houses to
help pay off the notes at the bank.  Now wouldn't that have been
a fine mess?  We'd be stuck trying to pay off our homes while he
got away with all this money."  Bret was fuming.
     "But you didn't do it. did you?" Beth questioned, afraid of
the answer.
     "No, but I'd made the loan application and it was approved.
I had second thoughts about the fact that we gave a lot of money
to the church and I knew we would have to do without things our
family needs.  I just couldn't do that to you and the kids."  He
had tears running down his cheeks again.
     "Bret, you are a good man and a fine husband," Beth said,
standing up and walking around the table to hug him and give him
a kiss.
     "Would you open one of the cans?" she asked.  "I'd like to
see that much money in one place - just one time."
     "Sure."  Bret took the plastic lid off one can and pulled
out a roll of bills.  "This must be $10,000, all in fifties and
hundreds."
     Beth picked the roll of bills up.  "That Son of a Bitch!"
she said as she put it back in the can.  Look how many lives this
man has ruined by his ignorance, greed and bigotry.  I hope there
is a special place in hell for him because I would gladly go and
stoke the fire."
     "Honey, I'll be right beside you," Bret said, gathering his
wife in his arms and kissing her.  "Thanks for putting up with me
and my problems.  You didn't deserve for me to hit you or the
other things I did to you and the kids."
     "We're going to put all of this behind us and get away from
that bunch of people," she said.  "Now, let's go hide the money
and hope everything goes well tomorrow when you try to make it
right."
     "Beth, it will.  I know it will."
     * * * * *
     Dale and Craig decided it would be easy for them to eat at
home as they had roast pork and some other leftovers to eat.
Joey helped Craig in the kitchen as Dale fixed drinks for
everyone and took them to the kitchen.  He gave Joey a ginger
ale, and then handed a scotch and soda to Craig, having fixed one
for himself.
     "Cheers!" he said brightly.
     Joey and Craig held up their glasses and echoed that toast.
     "Well, Joey.  I hope you enjoy school here.  There are some
excellent teachers here in Davy Crockett High School and I hope
you get every one of them."
     "Thanks, Dad.  Thanks, both Dads," he said.  "I just hope I
don't have a lot of stuff to catch up on in my classes.  Only two
books are different than the ones we had in Houston."
     "Which are those?" Craig asked.
     "History and Science.  I was taking American History in
Houston and this is Texas History here.  The Science book they
gave me looks like it has the same stuff in it, though.
     "Well, history is my specialty," Dale said.  You've come to
the right person to at least help you get a 'D'."
     "Dad!  I know better than that," Joey teased.
     "And your mother over there, has science down pat.  Just a
verbal fountain of information about everything you never wanted
to know - nor will need to know."
     Dale's eyes were twinkling and Craig could see the same
start to happen with Joey's eyes.
     When Dale started grinning, Craig threw up his hands and
said, "I give up.  Anything I say will be used against me."
     All three of them were doubled over with laughter.  Dale
walked over and gave Craig a kiss.  "As much as I love your
parents and enjoyed being with them the last four days, it was
hard to keep my hands off you and from giving you a kiss every
time I wanted to."
     "You could have," Craig said.
     "I know, but it just seems kind of strange 'making out' in
front of them."
     "Mom would have been envious and Dad would have thought you
were a horn dog," Craig said.
     "What about the kid here, what does he think?" Dale asked,
hugging Joey's shoulders.
     "You're a horn dog, just like Mom says," winking at Craig.
     "You two, I've been called a lot of things in my life, but
being somebody's 'Mother' isn't one that I ever expected to
hear," Craig laughed.
     "Touchy, isn't she?" smirked Dale.
     "Yeah, but I love both of you.  My Dad, Joe, and I had a
good time together and I think we were best buds, but you guys
are really great.  I don't know how I lucked out, getting to be
with you, but I did."
     "We're the ones who lucked out," Dale said, standing between
Joey and Craig, with his arms around each.  "We could have gotten
an insecure, hostile kid who thought he owed the world revenge
for his miserable life.  One, who lied, stole, did drugs and
treated everyone with disdain.  No, Joey, we are the lucky ones."
     "Thanks.  I love both of you, Dads."  With that Joey gave
each of them a kiss on the cheek as he hugged them in turn.
     * * * * *
     As they were eating their Sunday evening meal, talk turned
to a possible change of their residence and if they should look
for an older, large house or build something that would be
designed just for them.
     "If you are going to buy an older home, gut it, strengthen
it, install modern heating and air conditioning and new plumbing,
you can easily spend more money than building something new.
There are a lot of variables, such as how much you pay for the
property to begin with and what kind of shape the structure is
in, so it's a toss up until you get everything torn out and see
what you are dealing with," Craig said.
     "Do you know of an architect we could hire?" Dale asked
innocently, his eyes twinkling again.
     "No, I don't think you could get one to work with either you
or Joey," Craig teased back, thinking they were continuing from
the 'mother' jokes while getting ready to eat.
     "Yeah, you're probably right.  I guess I'll have to call
Phyllis Richmond and tell her to keep her eyes open," Dale said.
     "What's going on?" Joey asked as Craig started laughing.
     "Phyllis Richmond is what's going on," Craig said.
     Dale told Joey the story and soon, all three we laughing
again.
     "You have some of the strangest people here in
Williamsport," Joey said through his laughter.
     "Yeah, and it seems like we know all of them, too," Dale
replied.
     * * * * *
     The Williamson family went to Dallas for the weekend.  Chris
had graduated from Baylor University and a group of ten from her
class was starting to plan their 15th graduation reunion that
would take place in a year and a half.  There were 10 on the
committee and all were not only wealthy in their own right but
had married well, too.
     The women shared five double rooms on the 17th floor of the
Fairmount Hotel and it was party time from Friday night to Sunday
afternoon.  They didn't care what their husbands did with their
time, but were expected at their formal dinner on Saturday night
and then put in an appearance for brunch on Sunday, after which
the planning session was over for this time.
     Marty, Jason and Kevin stayed with Chris' parents, the
Bernard Lovell's that owned a large road construction company
with offices all over Texas and surrounding states.  It was a
huge operation and Chris' two brothers; Doug and Glen shared the
management duties now.
     Jason and Kevin loved to stay with their grandparents as
they always planned neat things for them to do and see.  This
Saturday was spent at Fair Park and they had a blast touring all
of the buildings and exhibits.
     Marty hooked up with a couple of friends of his from college
and the husband of one of the women in Chris' group.  The women
may have had a great party over the weekend, but the men were
more creative in their endeavors, actually ending up at a gay bar
and dancing with each other, just for the hell of it.  They had a
blast and when they were back in Marty's car, they compared notes
as to how many times they had been hit on for a dance.  They were
as crazy as their wives, who had hired two male strippers, but
making sure they were gay.
     The women compared notes on everything - no holds barred.
Their husband's abilities, size, how often they did it, affairs
(none would admit to that), strangest place they had ever had sex
(at the top of Pike's Peak within sight of the restaurant and
tourist shop, but under a blanket on the snow drift).
     They came up with what they thought was a great idea.  A 7-
day cruise to Cozumel - with husbands and children along.  Of
course, they figured they would have to have at least six more
planning sessions before the cruise became a reality.
     * * * * *
     Tom and Eddie hadn't been home fifteen minutes when the
telephone rang.  Tom happened to answer the phone.
     "Is this Tom?" the voice questioned.
     "Yes," he replied.  The voice was familiar but he knew it
wasn't someone he regularly talked to.
     "It's Vince Marshall.  How are you guys?"
     "Hi Vince.  We talked to Joey Sullivan after church this
morning and he told us you were his history teacher in Houston.
How are things going for you?"
     "They are going well.  I have a new lover and I think this
time it's the real thing.  We've been together for almost a year
now and I really love him.  I think we are a good match for each
other."
     "I hope so.  Eddie and I were talking about you earlier.
Gee, it's great to hear your voice.  Let me holler at Eddie and
get him on the phone, too."
     "Okay."
     Tom yelled, "Eddie, Vince Marshall is on the phone!!"
     "Be right with you," came the reply.
     Vince asked Tom, "While we're waiting for Eddie, what can
you tell me about Joey.  He mentioned having 'two Dads'.  That
sounds interesting.
     "As you know, Joey's father died a week ago last Friday.
Dale Richards, who looks exactly like Joey, but is ten years
older, is his half brother.  Dale didn't even know that Joey
existed until a couple of weeks ago when the social worker at the
V.A. called him."
     About that time Eddie picked up an extension and listened to
the conversation without saying anything.
     "Dale and his lover, Craig, drove to Houston and met with
Joe, their father.  Dale had only seen him once before about 11
years ago.  Basically, Joe asked Dale to be Joey's guardian and
they brought him to Williamsport to live with them.  Joey calls
them his 'two Dads' and in a very short time the three of them
seem to have formed a tight bond and are devoted to each other.
Dale and Craig have only been together a very short time, so it's
going to be a learning experience for all of them," Tom said.
     "Joey knows they are gay?" Vince asked.
     "Yeah.  It wasn't a problem with him because his father was
gay, also."
     "Wow!" Vince said.
     Eddie spoke up, "Hi Vince.  Great of you to call."
     "Hi Eddie.  Tom was just giving me the rundown on Joey
Sullivan.  He's a good kid.  I hope this works out for everyone.
I'd hate to see him hurt."
     "I think this is going to work out for all of them.  Dale
and Craig are very responsible men and devoted to each other and
to Joey, too," Eddie said.
     "In fact, Craig's parents went to Houston to help them get
Joey's things packed and the house ready to sell.  Then they came
back to Williamsport to spend a couple of days.  Joey calls them
'grandma' and 'grandpa' and they are thrilled to death," Tom
said.
     "There are some good people in the world, after all," Vince
told them.
     "Yeah, I wish that Tom's and my parents were a little more
caring about us," Eddie said.
     "Someday it will all work out for you," Vince told them.
     "I hope so," Tom said.  "I love my parents, but they refuse
to come to visit us here and they've not invited us to come visit
them, either."
     "Same here," Eddie said.
     "Keep working on them.  Things usually work out," Vince told
them.
     "So, tell us about your new lover," Tom said.
     "His name is Darren and he's a software engineer at NASA and
works directly with the Space Shuttle Program.  We're the same
age and we met at a party about a year and a half ago.  He's a
little taller than me, auburn hair, weights about 180 and has
hazel eyes to die for.  He's caring and a real bear to cuddle
with."
     "Congratulations."  "Way to go," both of them said.
     "Thanks guys.  I really appreciate that."
     "It's great hearing from you.  Seems like it's been a long
time," Tom said.
     "Too long, we get wrapped up in our own world and forget
others.  So, tell me what's new with you two?" Vince asked.
     "We're going to get certified as counselors and as foster
parents for young boys who are gay and have been kicked out by
their families," Eddie told him.
     "That's great.  You'll be good at that and there aren't
enough qualified homes to help these poor boys."
     "You and Darren should consider the same thing.  I know you
would do well as a mentor and foster parent," Tom said.
     "Maybe someday after we get the bumps in our relationship
smoothed out."
     "It's probably going to change our lives some, but hopefully
for the best," Eddie told him.
     "I hear you.  Hey guys, it's been great to hear your voices
again.  The next time you're in Houston, let's get together."
     "We can do that, but you guys might like to come up here for
a weekend sometime soon.  This is a great town, "Tom said.
     "Maybe we can do that.  Darren has vacation time he hasn't
taken, but my schedule ties us down during the school year."
     "What about Thanksgiving?" Eddie asked.
     "Maybe something to consider.  I'll have to check with
Darren, but that sounds like a great idea.  Maybe it will work
out.  We'll let you know," Vince said.
     "Okay, it would be great to see you again and have a chance
to kick back and visit," Tom told him.
     Well, it's been fun this evening.  We'll get back to you on
the holiday invitation.  Have a good week," Vince said.
     They told each other goodbye and hung up.
     Eddie came to the kitchen and put his arms around Tom.
"That was nice of Vince to call and I hope things work out okay
for him and Darren."
     "I do, too.  He's had more than his share of failed
relationships."
     "Ours isn't going to fail.  I knew the first time we were
together that it was the real thing," Eddie said.
     They exchanged a kiss.
     * * * * *
     Later Dale couldn't wait to get Craig into bed.  They'd had
a wonderful week and enjoyed the five days spent with Craig's
parents and all of them were looking forward to going to
Arlington for Thanksgiving.  They could show Joey some of the
neat things they'd discovered on their honeymoon and also Joey
could meet Craig's sisters.  He knew Susan would take to Joey in
a minute, but he wasn't sure about Becky.  Regardless, it was
only a little over four weeks away.
     Dale was thinking about being with Craig's parents just four
weeks ago, how much their lives had changed, and all for the
better, he thought.  He and Craig now had their own family.  As
he was lying on the bed, waiting for Craig to finish in the
bathroom, he thought about what Frank had suggested: That he and
Craig consider adopting a young child in a few years.  Certainly
they had enough love left over for each other and Joey, too.
That might be something to think about.
     Craig came back from the bathroom, shed his boxers and
crawled on top of Dale.  They were both immediately hard and
ready to satisfy the other.  Craig wanted Dale inside of him and
didn't waste any time making sure Dale knew that was what was
going to happen.
     He needed to be possessed by his lover, to feel his physical
offering of love, the one he wanted to bathe his insides.  And,
tonight he wanted to be on top, sitting on Dale so he could bathe
his lover with his own offering of himself that they could share
in communion with the other.
     They were totally attuned to each other, enjoying the
feelings they were able to give to the other.  Going almost to
the top, then slowing down to allow themselves to do it again.
Finally they reached the point of no return and drove themselves
toward the ultimate goal.  Dale was drenched in sweat and cum and
he fired enough into Craig to paint his insides thoroughly.
     They lay there, not wanting to move, to be as one for as
long as they could.  Finally, Dale slipped out.  They rolled on
their sides, facing each other, pulled the covers up and went to
sleep immediately, wrapped in each other.
     * * * * *
     (to be continued)
     AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Thanks for all the wonderful emails this
story generates.  Most express their thanks for a love story that
encompasses the everyday lives of gay people.  While it's true
that Williamsport may not exist for everyone, the world is
becoming a more tolerant place in which to live as long as we
don't end up taking the place of the bigots and become over-
zealous in our demands, either.
     I thank Paul Daventon for his help in catching the obvious
errors in this story.  Still wrong words get past both of us.  If
you like the story, or want to be notified of new chapters, send
an email to TulsaDriller7@aol.com.  I love hearing from each of
you and like to hear your suggestions, too.