Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2001 21:20:06 -0000
From: Jamie <virus@dial.pipex.com>
Subject: Chris-and-Jamie  Chapter 20

Same stuff - don't read this is u r underage or u don't like reading stories
of love between two boys.

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`Chris! Your sister's on the phone!' Eileen's voice placidly rang out
through the intercom.

Chris, who was practising his flute in the music studio, couldn't hear a
word that was said. I crossed the room and opened the door to the soundproof
room. Sometimes I thank god that it is soundproof, Chris has just taken up
the cello and his talents definitely leave something to be desired. After
explaining to him what was happening, a weird look came over his face -- he
didn't usually receive phone calls from his sister. Coming back into the
main apartment he picked up the phone and pressed his own code into the
keypad, releasing the locking mechanism and bringing his sister's voice to
his ears.

`Hey Chris, I've got great news! You've just become the proud uncle of a
baby boy!'

Rebecca had recently moved to England so that she could be with her Mother
for the baby's birth. Chris rarely mentioned the subject, and even rarer
still was it that he ever talked with Rebecca. They had been very close, but
since the move to England and Rebecca getting married, they had lost the
connection that seemed to bring them close.

`Huh? What?' Chris had a wonderfully crisp way of putting his thoughts.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I held open the door while Eileen, Paul and Chris entered Rebecca's hospital
room. The maternity ward was not crowded, and seemed to be a much happier
place to be than the rest of the hospital. Nurses surfed to and fro with
various devices strapped to their hands and tapering from about their
shoulders. The usual blue uniform was replaced, in this ward, with a glowing
pink that seemed to reflect the air in the ward to a tee -- it was a
wonderfully warm feeling.

Entering after the three I came face to face with the laughing 24-year-old
girl that had just become the mother of what I thought was the most
wonderful thing on Earth. Her hair fell in whole blond locks about her
shoulders, and she was propped up in bed. Her lips were of a natural red,
and the small valleys ran into one blood river within them. The same blue
eyes that both Chris and Eileen possessed were again present in her.
However, what I was really looking at was the small blue bundle held before
her.

Chris just stared in surprise at his tiny nephew and then began to smile.

`James, are you gonna stand over there all day?' Rebecca had looked up to
where I was standing at the foot of the bed.

I moved to her side and peeped into the tiny cloth-covered package. The blue
sapphire eyes stared back at me. He was so peaceful and one of the most
beautiful things that I have ever seen in my life. Looking so frail and
innocent; it was as if I wanted to hide him away so that he wouldn't be
touched by any of the evils in the world. Pandora's Box would soon be open
to him; a close comfort to me, however, was the memory of the last thing
that came out of that box -- Hope.

Rebecca bent over him and began to speak.

`This is your aunt Jamie.' She shot me a grin. `He's gonna be your
godfather.' Now it was my turn to stare in surprise.

She began to explain it to me.

`Mom, Mark (her husband) and I have decided that he's gonna have six
godparents at the Christening next month.' She wiped the face of the
drooling baby. `Mom, Ruth (Chris's other sister) and my friend, Sarah, will
be godmothers. Then there's you, Michael, a friend of Mark's, and of course
my darling brother, Christopher.' She said the last with a sarcastic tone
that broke into laughter as soon as the two looked at each other.

`What's his name?' Chris asked.

`James Christopher.' Mark said as he came in from the hallway. `We thought
if we named him after you two, he might get just as much luck in life.'
Chris giggled at this and put his arm around me.

His brown eyes blazed with light at recently becoming a father. The feeling
was overwhelming for me alone, so for Mark it must have been indescribable.
A black head of shining hair gave way to a warm face and a thin frame. At 25
he was already working on Wall Street and earning a bomb. After Rebecca had
come to England he had gotten a transfer to work at Goldman Sachs in London.

`Hey Mark.' I said, by way of greeting to him. Many times he had come to
dinner with us at the Chase; he and I had become quite good friends. Once he
even persuaded me to go to the City with him and work for a day in his
offices. I had enjoyed the work immensely and had seriously considered going
back there once I had left University.

He came waltzing over to us and pulled us both into a warm hug. I was
confused by the way that he had accepted our relationship so openly the
first time we had met. The way that he just assented to it gave me hope for
all the others that I would have to tell in my life -- some wouldn't mind,
some would, and who was to tell which would be which?

Chris, who had freed himself from me whilst I had lapsed into my whimsical
daydream, returned with James in his arms and a great smile on his face.

`You wanna hold him?'

I was overjoyed and took the little baby into my arms with great delight.
Eileen looked on whilst Paul began to talk to Rebecca about arrangements for
the christening. Placing my hand behind his head, so as not to let it drop,
I looked into the warm bundle. Two tiny hands reached out grabbed at my
face, and he started to smile, making small gurgling noises. After playing
with him for a few minutes I returned James to his smiling uncle. Chris took
him and placed him in the tiny incubator next to the bed. It was like a
small fish tank, with many pipes leading into it to provide him with clearer
air and to keep him warm. Almost at once, his tiny eyes shut and he was fast
asleep. Taking a seat by the incubator, I watched my little nephew dream.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

As we reached the entrance to the cathedral a formidable veil of silence
fell over the gathering that was inside.

Built of heavy stone, the cathedral was spread out into the shape of a
crucifix, gazing up into the sky beyond. A tall spire reached its way up to
the heavens and multiple gargoyles did their best to protect and ward off
evil spirits.
James, however, was not in good spirits and had long ago begun to shout
screams of irritation. They had not subsided when Rebecca began to rock him,
and he refused to take a dummy.

Following behind Rebecca and Mark, Chris and I brought up the rear of the
little gathering that was headed by Chris's parents walking hand in hand.
Before we came to the door, Chris grabbed my hand and held it tightly as we
passed through it.
We moved slowly down the nave and took our places by the large baptismal
font, set aside from the high altar.

As the music from the organ died away, the Bishop of St. Matthews and his
attendant canon processed from one of the many back rooms of the cathedral's
inner sanctum. The bishop's hair was grey, and balding slightly at the
centre. I could not make out his eyes, which were too far away, but his
bright purple stole was too loud to miss. It hung about his shoulders and
ran the length of his cassock to the floor, waiting below.

I looked down and realised that Chris was still grasping my hand. At the
time I thought that this was a great relief, but suddenly I became
uncomfortable with it. The sensation soon passed, but I would never find out
why it happened -- possibly it was just a stressful day? Releasing myself
from Chris's grip, I found him questioning it with his eyes. I made no reply
to his inquisitive look and turned to face the bishop, who had now arrived
at the high altar and was waiting to begin.

`We are gathered here in the site of God to bear witness to the welcoming of
a new child into the care and love of our Christian brotherhood...' The bishop
had decided to go ahead, even with James screaming into his ear.

After the preliminary prayers had been said, James was held over the
baptismal font to receive the sacrament. He asked the godparents to step
forward and Chris, Michael, Sarah and I gathered around the small basin. It
was built of a solid stone, with a bronze cup set inside it, roughly 10" in
diameter.

`I baptize you, James Christopher, in the name of the Father and of the Son
and of the Holy Ghost. You are named after the faithful Santiago, Saint
James, patron to Spain and renowned for his generosity. May your life be as
fruitful as his own...'

He was obviously really getting into his little speech now, and it lasted
for a further ten minutes. After he had concluded his narrative on Saint
James, he began to tell the story of the Blessed Christopher -- the Bearer of
Christ. By this time I was beginning to fall asleep on my feet. Chris nudged
me as the bishop looked up and waited for us to make James's vows for him.
After the usual questionings about whether or not we rejected Satan, the
canon placed James, who had begun to smile, in Chris's arms. He carried him
back to Rebecca, who released him into the warm blankets again.

The service was soon over and we trundled out of the cathedral and made our
way to the cars outside. Chris took me aside, obviously questioning about my
behaviour during the service.

`Why did you let go of me?' He asked, confused.

I had to confess to him that I genuinely did not know why I had done it. I
didn't feel like that now, and hoped that I would never feel like it again.
Putting it down to the stress of the day, we both got into the black
limousine, which was sparkling in the sun, and pulled away from the
cathedral.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The party afterwards was being held at the Chase. As soon as we pulled into
the drive we could hear the music from the gardens behind the main house.
Most of Rebecca's relatives had flown in for the christening from DC and
Virginia. They were to be put up in the house for the evening and then leave
early the next morning on the scheduled flight to Washington Dulles.

Chris grabbed my hand and led me up to our room. Once alone he took me in
his arms and kissed me. Our tongues banded and fought for supremacy in each
other's mouth, as we explored the interior, which was not uncommon ground
for either of us. I broke the kiss and we moved silently to the window by
the stairwell, our hands resting on each other's shoulders. Chris rested his
head on my shoulder as we looked out over the gardens and the party going on
downstairs.

I spotted Eileen playing the happy grandmother, and was overjoyed for her. I
am told that the first grandchild is always a gratifying moment. I was sorry
that we couldn't give her any; I know she would have loved to have more.
Chris and I were happy together, and that was all that mattered at the
moment.

`We need to go down, you know.' I said, waking him from his daydream.

`Okay, but you gotta do something for me first.' He replied, and pulled me
back into the bedroom -- closing the door behind him.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Chris was in the best of spirits when we finally arrived downstairs. After
opening the French windows, we made our way across the patio and stepped
onto the fine lawn of the first garden. I could see that most of the
relatives had gravitated towards the orchard, where they were serving the
food. My mother and Eileen, however, remained sitting on white seats by a
large garden table with a glass of chilled white wine apiece. They seemed to
be enjoying themselves, as small giggles escaped their lips every now and
then.

`James!' Eileen shouted out as we crossed the lawn to join them. She got up
and flung her arms around me, I was just a little surprised by this
over-inflated greeting. `I'm so happy for you.'

`Huh?' was the best that I could manage to stammer out.

My mother took the lead and came over to me. She sat me down and poured me a
drink.

`Well, when you passed your FRCO, I knew you had the ability, so I went
through UCAS (British university applications) and applied for you to study
part-time for a degree in Music. Well I got a reply back yesterday morning,
and I didn't want to tell you until the christening was over. You've won a
place at Magdalen College, Oxford to read for a BA in Music and Musicology,
starting next September!'

My mind didn't take it in for about five minutes. After that I grabbed the
grinning Chris, who had obviously known (little git!) and swung him around
in circles. I was so happy I could have cried, and eventually I did. Chris
put his arm around me and smiled his warmest smile.

`Unfortunately there's a problem.' He said to me.

`What's that?'

`You're gonna have to miss school two days a week to go.' He said with a
grin.

`I can live with that.' I retorted.

`Yeah, but you can't live with me coming to carry your books can you.'

Eileen then chipped into the conversation.

`No way, Christopher! You are going to school.'

His face changed to a sly grin and we began to walk off to the house again.

`Whatever you say, Mom.' He shouted over his shoulder. Then, as we walked,
he turned to me. `Jamie, you know that Oxford place has all those kewl
buildings and arches and old English crap like that?'

I didn't like where this was going, the evil grin was becoming more
pronounced.

`Yeah.' I said, knowing that I would instantly regret it.

`Well, I'm gonna fuck you in every quadrangle, tower and cloisters in
Magdalen!' A scary thought -- but a nice one though.

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