Date: Fri, 29 Jul 2005 21:51:33 EDT From: RitchChristopher@cs.com Subject: briarwood-11 All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> "BRIARWOOD" aka "Whence Cometh My Help" R.S.V. A dramatic saga by Ritch Christopher * * * literary enhancement by LES MARTIN <><><><><> BOOK ONE Chapter Eleven <><><><><><><><><><> "Why can't we touch a star? Come and go and touch a star just as ordinary people do? Why can't we be ordinary people, too?" Richard Adler from "Kwamina" Act II (1961) <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Cliff felt as the Philistines must have when Samson collapsed the temple at Gaza! Had Roger really told him that he had bought the Marsden estate to be their new home? "But, Roger," Cliff protested mildly, "I can't just move out of the church rectory into the biggest and most elegant house in Briarwood. I would NEVER be able to explain such an action to the board of deacons!" "Screw 'em!" Roger replied. "I've already bought it. There's not only room for us, but we can take the whole gang, Jay and Troy, Rob and Timmy...hell, it's so goddamned big, we can invite twenty-four more if you want to!" "What would happen to THIS house?" "Burn it! I don't know! Turn it into a shelter for the homeless. That's what we've turned it into anyway, haven't we, love?" "That's all fine and dandy, but if I should ever leave St. Genesius, where would the new priest live if this had been converted into something other than a manse?" "Well, we could always let Jay find out if the new priest dances to our tune, and, if so, he can move in with us!" "Damn, Roger! You're impossible at times," Cliff said, laughing. "Look, I did the old biddy, Ms. Kitty, a favor. I saved her ass one more time. Now she can leave Briarwood in style!" "Well, then, let me pray about it." "Cliff, if you're waiting for a sign from God to say it's OK to move, we'll all be using walkers to get around...I know, once you've seen the place, you'll fall in love with it as I have!" "Roger," Cliff said, giggling, "An outsider will think we've opened up a gay hotel or a brothel!" "Then quit your fucking job! I've got more than enough money in the bank for us to live for the next fifty years!" "It was easy for you to give up your calling...but I can't do that, Roge." "You forget. I wasn't called. I followed YOU into the priesthood. To me, it was just a job." "But I just can't give up the world and turn my back on the people around me. I feel the need to help people. I mean, look at what the two of us have done here in such a short time. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" "Of course it does. But, Cliff, I want a life. I want a life--WITH YOU!...and if it happens that we have more people in our lives, like our four house guests...well, then, so be it!" "Roger, the deacons and the board of directors know how much salary I get. How could I explain where and how I got the money to move into a place like Camelot?" "Shit! That's a great idea. I hadn't thought about it, but I could have them dig a moat around the place and erect a draw bridge. I could even hire a troll to sit there and collect a tariff from all who wish to visit!" "Do you mind my asking how much you paid for it? I mean, after all, our relationship is like a marriage where we don't keep secrets from each other." "Let's just say that the price dropped significantly while lawyer Lance was showing me around the place." "I think you'd better tell me what you mean. I got a funny vibe from the way you two looked at each other this morning. He IS gay, isn't he?" "Cliff, have you ever known a lawyer who was gay?" "Lawyers, doctors, politicians, celebrities...Hell, YES!...What did you do?...have Lance drop his drawers while he was dropping the price?" "Well, almost!" Roger said, grinning. "I saw how excited he was getting from the prospect of making the sale---and me, too! The fantasizing he was doing when he thought he was going to have sex with me!...Well, I noticed an erection tenting his powder blue pants. Just about that time, Kitty walked up to the car to see how I liked the place and Lance got so busy trying to hide his penis, I couldn't stop laughing and Kitty thought I was laughing at something she had said until she noticed Lance's trousers. Then, as only Kitty would say, she remarked to him, 'Is that for me or Mr. Cole?' That's when I lost it! I swear I couldn't help myself but I burst out laughing. Then Kitty joined in and the two of stood there watching him try to cover his dilemma discreetly. And although his hard-on didn't come down, somehow the price of the estate came down quite considerably. To me, the original price seemed dirt cheap. I'd've been a fool not to buy it...and you know I'm nobody's fool, so I wrote them a check for half of it. I'll pay the rest when Kitty moves out." "And when will that be?" Cliff asked. "She has a lot of personal effects to sell or get rid of, so we decided two weeks was fair enough for her to get everything out that I didn't buy." "How about Kendall? Is she going remove his casket and take it with her?" "She and I did discuss that and I told her that it was all the same to me if she left Kendall where he was. He was at peace now so why bother him? And at the same time, I was thinking to myself, 'Yes, dear God, don't let the poor kid have to spend eternity under her jurisdiction'." "So, do you plan to ask Lance out on a date?" Cliff joked. "No, but I WILL have to see him again. After all, he is Kitty's attorney and he'll draw up the papers for the sale, so I'm sure he'll be there when I sign them. You can be there too, if you like." "No, Kitty doesn't know about our relationship. She thinks you're my best friend from out of town spending a few days with me. I don't care one way or the other, but it might be best if she doesn't know I'm gay. Such knowledge in Kitty's hands could only cause trouble." "Cliff, before you get all negative, I want you to know that I love you, body, mind, and soul...and I bought this house for US!...for you and me!...and I want us to grow old there together... with kids or dogs... giraffes or peacocks...whatever you want to raise...we'll raise them...so long as we're both happy." "And how long do you think the six of us could live together in peace and harmony?" Cliff asked pointedly. "Cliff, with you being the cornerstone or the nucleus, it doesn't matter how many live with us, because YOU'D make sure everything was peaceful." "Now you're buttering me up to get me to give in to you!" "I don't want to sound like a barterer, but if I love you enough to give you a gift such as this one, couldn't you love me enough to try to make a go of it in the new house for a little while anyway?" Cliff stared at him without speaking for one full minute before he spoke. "Do you mind if I call you Naomi?" Cliff said, smiling. "Quo vadis? Whither thou goest, I will go..." "Thank you, my love." Roger said as he came closer to hug Cliff tightly. "Well, I guess we'd better go tell the children, who are waiting for us at the dinner table, that they're going to have to move...again!" <><><><><><><><><><><> At dinner, when Cliff and Roger broke the news to the other four, an ocean of feelings masked their faces---surprise, wonderment, happiness, concern, fear. The fear mostly came from Cliff. He still didn't know how the church community would accept such a drastic change in the local priest's lifestyle and the mass of young men, assembling under one roof amidst the gaggle of rumors that would certainly erupt. The new big estate would look like a hospice for castaways. Troy was the first to speak, "Roger, as long as we were staying here in the rectory, we knew the church was paying the rent and the utilities because they own the house and Cliff is entitled to all extras, but the idea of living in your new house, puts another perspective on it for the four of us, We can't continue to sponge and live off you. It's just not right." "Why not? So I have money. So what? I didn't earn it. I inherited it. Maybe the God that Cliff preaches about gave it to me so that I could use it to help others. No one except me, my lawyer, and the bank knows how much I have, but believe me, I have more than an army troop would need to live on the rest of their lives. If you feel you need to contribute something to maintain your dignity and pride, then we'll arrange something as long as you want to stay." "I get a disability check every month, Roger, you can have that." said Jay. "No, I want you to keep that AND your room and board to protect my investment." Roger replied. "What investment?" "All right, since this is turning into a business meeting, and since we're all family, let's talk openly. As you know, when Troy had his accident, there were certain bills at the hospital I'm sure Ms. Kitty would have paid, but, to give Troy his freedom, I wanted to pay them. So the more you help Troy, the more you're helping me in the long run. Troy is making a vast improvement every day and one day he may be able to be well enough to get a job. And then, AND ONLY THEN, if he thinks the two of your are solvent enough to get your own place, we'll discuss another arrangement. BUT until then, let's leave everything the way it is now. OK? Right now, the need you two have for each other is worth more more than any amount of money could replace. I can see that the two of you are very much in love and, well, if it ain't broke, don't try to fix it!!" "What about me?", Rob asked. "I still have my job. I can certain contribute monetarily." "Well, Rob," Roger continued. "I would imagine one of the first things you have to do is file for divorce. You're going to have attorney's fees unless you're willing to use my lawyer, 'pro-bono'. After what your wife did to Timmy is revealed in court, I don't think any judge, with the exception of Judge Wilkinson, would order you to pay any alimony. Then, if it would make you feel better, if you wanted to keep on living with us, you can contribute whatever you think appropriate to the 'family fund'. How's that? Would you be agreeable to my terms?" "Of course." Rob replied. "God, no wonder Cliff has loved you all his life." "Are you implying I fell in love with Roger for his money?" Cliff joked. "I fell in love with him when all I thought he had was a hole in his tattered jock strap." "Is that what made you love me?" Roger asked, keeping the joke going. "Well, actually, it was what fell out of the hole that caught my eye." Cliff joked back. "My, my, Roger, you must give us all a look at the wonder that led Cliff to the manger," Jay chided. "Only if I'm around to supervise the exhibition!" Cliff said, pointing a finger at Jay, then bursting out with laughter, holding Roger tightly. "Now, for Timmy," Roger resumed. "We know the hell he's been going through the past few days. Hopefully, almost everything looks good, right now. With his permission, my lawyer is filing a motion to have Judge Wilkinson disbarred for his unethical actions, which I presume were brought about by his homophobia. We haven't spoken to Tim's dad about getting Timmy's job back, but I think, deep down, he knew Timmy was innocent of the molestation charge, but when he heard that Timmy was gay, it hit him like a thunderbolt. It may take some time to repair that damage. But, in the meantime, I have set aside a fund, which Cliff will present to the board of deacons as a gift from an anonymous donor, to create a position as minister of music at St. Genesius. This will, in no way, interfere with the regular organist and choirmaster's duties, but will give the new minister of music, Timmy, a chance to recruit and hire, if necessary, trained voices for the choir and maybe an orchestra or band to enhance the mass. That's just in case the high school refuses to accept Timmy back. I wish there was some way to sue the goddamned press for what they did to his reputation, but, as we all know, once they create a stigma of child molestation, the accused is always going to be looked at askance." "My God, Roger," Jay spoke up, wonderment obvious in his voice, "you've thought of everything. I feel like shouting, 'God bless us all', or 'Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings'. If I'd known all this was going to be happening, I'd've cooked a turkey with broccoli dressing and we could've had a Thanksgiving dinner." "Cliff, would you like to add something?" Roger asked as all eyes peered at Cliff. Choking back tears of joy, Cliff said. "I have my reservations as to how the church as a whole will look upon all these actions, but it's something I'll have to attend to, on my own. We're gonna be looked on with questioning and disdain, I'm sure, but not necessarily from our own congregation. Most of the members of St. Genesius are liberal and open-minded enough to give us their blessing. As for our rival denominations, they'll have to wait for God to give them an explanation. No matter what we do, they will always criticize and damn us to hell. But when I look at the four of you and all the trials and tribulations you've had to go through, why shouldn't you be entitled to God's blessings? My biggest regret is that little Kendall isn't here to sit at the table with you. He remains the one element that keeps this from being a thoroughlyhappy beginning. The one thing we all can do is follow the teachings of the Lord and go out into the world and try to be examples of what good people gays can be. We're not freaks, we're not abnormalities of nature. We are people, just like everyone else. We eat, sleep, breathe, feel, laugh, cry, and we are capable of being hurt by ignorance and hatred. I charge you to be aware of the Kendall's of the world and look at your own lives and the hardships you've gone through---and LEARN from them! They were only tests to see how, and if, you could overcome them. Everyone lives the life of Job in his own way. Some are dealt harsher woes than others, but through these experiences, we have to become stronger and help those who are less fortunate than we." "Cliff, in my naiveté, may I ask just who was St, Genesius?" Timmy asked, "Well, he's someone closer to all of you than you think. Jay should know about him, and so should Rob. St. Genesius is the patron saint of actors and performers. He lived in the third century, and he was an actor. He was playing in a satire of the baptism of Christians. It was the type of play that amused the Romans. But one night, in the middle of a performance, while they were simulating baptizing Genesius, he suddenly was converted and stopped the show and began preaching his new belief. He was a very popular traveling entertainer and was given many chances to denounce his new affirmation of faith, but each time he refused. So they beheaded him in order to silence him. Years later, the Roman Catholic church canonized him. Thus, he's probably the angel on your shoulder." "I thought YOU were, and I thought Roger sat on YOUR shoulder." Timmy replied. "No, I'm afraid Roger only sits on my shoulder at night, and then only when we're alone in bed." Cliff answered, winking at Rog. "I thought the patron saint of actors was St. Vitus." Rob said. "He is, to some, mostly to dancers. He was a 4th century Sicilian who also lost his life while defending his faith. In the 1600's people use to dance around his statue in hopes of being cured. Onlookers thought the dancers were suffering from chorea, or epilepsy, thus anyone who has difficulty sitting still in a given situation is said to have St. Vitus' dance. He's also the saint of spastics, Jay." "I was just waiting to hear you say that! Now my night is complete!" "You know, it's a shame that everyone here never got the chance to meet the quiet, refined, pensive Jay that I first met down by the lake. Once you moved in here with me, you had a Jekyll-Hyde transformation and a different personality emerged. You guys have never seen Jay's serious side." "I have." Troy replied. "That's the one I fell in love with." his smile at Jay was filled with warmth that was felt by all. "Which Jay do you prefer?" Jay asked Cliff. "A little of each makes for a really great person." "I'll try to find a mid-point. It's just that, when I get serious, I get to thinking about my illness and how short my life might be, and I get depressed and hide behind a swishy facade. I never was like that until I got diagnosed. Who knows--maybe that's why I keep on living." "Whatever it takes, just keep on doing it. You're looking fantastic! Isn't it a wonder what a new medicine cocktail and a few stalks of broccoli can do?" " 'Father' Cliff, would I put my soul in danger of eternal damnation if I told you to go fuck yourself with a broccoli stalk?" Jay kidded. "Well, if it wasn't broccoli or the medication, I just wonder what in the world it could be?" Cliff chided. "You really want to know? Just call me Helen. Every night I get surprised by a certain part of a horse named Troy." "Well, so much for the meds and the broccoli." Cliff resounded back. "I never thought I'd fall in love with anyone after Lonnie died, but I have." Jay said sincerely. The simple truth of his statement caused a moment of silence, finally broken by: "And you're gonna be with me for a long, long time." Troy's gaze penetrated Jay's soul.. A quiet loving mood encompassed everyone at the table as the two of them looked at each other. Rob reached over and grabbed Timmy's hand as Roger reached for Cliff's. There was a genuine bond of love and camaraderie among the entire group and for each for his own lover. "Why don't we take the phone off the hook and eat dinner before someone calls us with more bad news?" Roger said. "It seems like every time we get one crisis solved, another one pops up." "Good idea!" Cliff added. "Jay, are you the server?" "Not without a clean apron. The one I'm wearing is wet with tears. But they're tears of happiness." <><><><><><><><> Dinner was pleasant without drama or trauma. Roger poured each of them an aperitif of Lochan Ora, a Scotch liqueur made by Chivas Regal, and then toasted, 'To us!'. As Cliff sat there, looking at the new family, he tried to take a photograph in his mind, one that he could recall years from now, maybe on their tenth anniversary. But that only happens in Harlequin novels, he told himself. But he vowed they would live in a world of reality, where deep inside he knew one or more of them would be out of the picture in six months. Nothing good ever lasts forever. Little did he know a tragedy was already on its way to befall one of them. <><><><><><><><> "For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tide, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?" Kahlil Gibran "The Prophet" (1923) <><><><><><><><> By the end of spring, the move had been made. The six of them had settled into their new and very opulent surroundings. Though the church's powers-that-be hadn't fully understood Cliff vacating the manse, they had looked the other way for a more satisfying reason. Maybe they knew he was moving to be with his lover, maybe not. Either way, no protest was made or no explanation asked. By summer's end, Troy had recovered completely. All feeling and strength had returned to his lower extremities. What's more, Jay was the picture of health. He had seen three different doctors and they were all amazed at his seemingly complete remission. Rob's life was less cumbersome. His divorce decree was final and Clarissa had moved to Utah to work in a home for foster children sponsored by the LDS. Timmy's father had suffered a mild heart attack and claimed to be on his 'death bed'. He had called Timmy, asking for forgiveness and offered him his old job back as band and choir director at Briarwood High. When old Tom didn't die, everyone held his breath in fear that Tom might renege on his reinstatement of Timmy in his old position, but he didn't. So Timmy buried his head in A. R. Casavant's manuals of 'Precision Drills for Marching Bands', readying himself for the first fall band competition. For 'unknown' reasons, Judge Wilkinson resigned his judgeship and bought a condominium in Vero Beach, Florida. for him and his wife. The long, boring post-Trinity season had taken its toll on the church's attendance. The crowds wouldn't return until the arrival of Advent. Cliff was disappointed that Timmy hadn't accepted the minister of music position, as Cliff had looked forward to hearing different and better trained sounds from the choir loft. Cliff had performed six marriage ceremonies in June; two funerals in July; and counseled four couples, all on the verge of divorce, in August, and that included one of the couples he had married in June. Moving into the Marsden Estate was a dream come true for Jay. Roger had given him a platinum credit card and told him to decorate it as elegantly as he wanted and the place had become a showplace, ranking as the Eighth Wonder. Except for Rob, who still had his job, and Cliff, who continued his chores at the church, all had spent most of the summer sipping Manhattan ice teas around the pool. It was very unusual for six guys to live together for four months and not have the first squabble or cross word. Not one ounce of their camaraderie and kinsmanship had dissipated since they had all moved in together. Soon it was the second week in September and there was already an autumn chill in the air at night. The leaves of the large oaks and elms around the grounds were already hinting of an early winter with their yellow, red, and brown hues beginning to show. Cliff's normal joyful reaction to the season's change was tempered by his realization that something was wrong with Roger. Roger displayed a restlessness that was a total change from the self of old. He barely slept at all at night, logging only two or three hours of sleep. His and Cliff's nightly lovemaking was reduced to two or three times a week. Roger started taking long walks in the woods half a mile behind the house, Sometimes at night, he would slip out of the house and take drives to unknown destinations. When Cliff gently confronted Roger, asking what was wrong, he would reply, "Nothing's wrong Cliff.. I always get depressed in the fall. I just need to walk it off, to be by myself for short periods...but don't worry, I'm all right." Cliff didn't know who Roger was trying to convince, himself or Cliff, but Cliff didn't buy a word of it. He knew that when Roger was ready, he would tell him what was wrong. The others had noticed a change in Roger, too. He would sit for long periods of time staring in space at the dinner table, his mind preoccupied. He wasn't in tune with the casual table conversation and would sometimes answer a direct question with an inane reply.. Roger's day-to-day behavior altered in subtle ways, but one change was new and obvious to all. As kids , Cliff and Roger had experimented with tobacco but neither had cared for it. Since those long past days, Cliff hadn't seen a cigarette touch Roger's lips. Suddenly,Roger was seldom seen without a cigarette. He wasn't really smoking, he would light up and take a couple of puffs, then crush it out in an ashtray. This was causing him to go through sometimes three packs a day. Usually when a person is depressed,he goes for the liquor cabinet, but, outside of an occasional glass of wine with dinner, Roger wasn't drinking. When Roger and Cliff were with any or all of the other four, Cliff kept the conversation going, hoping no one would notice that Roger wasn't joining in. He just sat there, listless, listening quietly , but Cliff knew Roger hadn't heard a word that had been said. His mind was elsewhere. Jay, who knew Roger better than the others, was the first to talk to Cliff about it. "What gives with Roger?" "What do you mean?" Cliff replied, sloughing off the comment. "Come on, Cliff, you know damned well what I'm talking about! You're the smartest one of the six of us, so don't say you haven't noticed how moody and pensive he's been lately." "Jay, I--I was hoping no one would notice, but I'd forgotten just how sly you are under your comical facade." "Troy's noticed it, too." "I figured." "Is Roger sick? Is he worried about something? Is he having financial worries?" "He said 'no' to me when I asked him about those things." Cliff said, "Jay, I'm worried sick. We've NEVER kept secrets from each other. We've always been able to read each other's mind. But this time, I haven't a clue." "Pardon me for asking, Cliff, but do you think he's found another guy?" "No. That's one thing he would tell me straight-out. I also know it's not money. I got a partial look at his last bank statement and almost fainted when I saw his balance. Believe me, he has NO financial worries!" "How about his health?" Jay asked. "He told me he went down for a complete check-up at Dr. Lindner's and he got a clean bill of health." Cliff replied. "Do you think he was lying?" "No, Roger would never lie to me. He might keep something from me to keep from lying, but he would never outright lie." "Well, I just wanted to tell you that Troy and I have noticed a definite change in him, and we're concerned. We both owe our lives to him and there's nothing in the world we wouldn't do for him." "I know that, Jay, and so does Roger...But Roger is so goddamned independent, he won't even let ME do anything for him." "Where is he now?" Jay asked. "He's gone for a drive. He said he'd be back around 5:30 to help with dinner. What time is it now?" "5:45." Jay answered. "Oh well, he'll be home soon." "We might as well start cooking dinner anyway." "Holler if you need any help." "I will, Cliff." <><><><><><><><> Everything was prepared and ready to set on the table by 7:30. Everyone was at the table except Roger, who hadn't returned from his drive. Cliff was terribly anxious. Roger was never late unless he called with an explanation. Cliff checked the phone three times to see if it was in working order, but it was fine. His nervous agitation had spread to the others. The look on his face was one of deep concern. For almost five months, Roger had been the focal point in all their lives. By eight o'clock, there was still no word from him. Cliff decided to go out and wait on the veranda. There was only one glimmer of sunset left and the cool autumn breeze was busy bringing in nightfall. Cliff's body shivered. He couldn't tell if it was the wind or nerves. Roger was like Cliff, they both hated cell phones. They had learn to hate all phones, actually. So there was no way Cliff could reach him in his Lexus. Cliff decided to play a game he used to play as a child when he was waiting for his mom or dad to get home. He would walk all the way down the driveway and back, and by the time he returned to the starting place, Roger would be home. It often worked with Cliff's parents. So he walked down the stairs and began a slow walk down the freshly repaved drive that led to the front gate. It was almost a half mile and Cliff remembered from the Boy Scout handbook that a person, walking a normal pace, would walk a mile in 15 minutes. That meant if he got all the way down and back, it would be 8:30 and surely Roger would be home by then. Cliff even counted the steps as he went. He was about 50 feet from the front gate when he saw two headlights coming down the road. But the car approached the drive, then went on by. It wasn't Roger. Cliff turned to walk back toward the house. This time he started praying that by the time he got back to the front steps, Roger would be driving up behind him or Jay would meet him and tell him Roger had called. "Four-thousand-eight-hundred and two, four-thousand-eight-hundred and three, four-thousand-eight-hundred and four! There!," Cliff was back on the veranda, back where he'd started. He looked around slowly at the long driveway he had just traveled and there were no headlights coming his way. It was 8:35 and Cliff was ready to call the police. There were a private telephone line in each of the couples' bedrooms, so Jay got on the phone in his room and started calling hospitals, while Rob called the police and the highway patrol on his line. Cliff sat in the living room, going through his address book, hoping to see a name of a friend, anyone who might know of Roger's whereabouts. At 10:00PM, the five of them assembled to report their findings and they all came up empty...no report of a wreck or a hospital admittance. No friend or parishioner had seen him. It was like he'd simply vanished. Rob and Timmy said they would go look for him in their cars. Cliff chose to do the same, while Jay and Troy would stay home and wait on some word or some call. The three of them who were driving told Jay they would call him every 30 minutes to report in...either 'yea' or 'nay'. One of the places Cliff had to stop was the police station and fill out a missing person report, but it was just like he'd seen on 'NYPD Blue', the police couldn't look for someone until he'd been missing 24 hours. Prior to that, no one was actually missing. To Cliff, that was bullshit. If a person's not home and he's told no one where he is going, then goddammit, he's missing!! The last call the three of them made to Jay was at 3:00 AM. They were all tired and had all struck out. No one had seen either Roger or his car all day. All kinds of horrors were invading Cliff's imagination. Tonight's behavior was strictly not in Roger's character. Something bad had happened somewhere...but where? Cliff knew, as strong as their love was, Roger would never play a trick such as this on him. Roger would've called. Visions of cars in ditches or broken rails on bridges or lights of approaching locomotives flashed through Cliff's mind. He was so crazy with fear, he even hoped Roger was at a secluded motel off the beaten path somewhere with a trick. Cliff would settle for just knowing that Roger was alive and ALIVE, even if he was being unfaithful. At least he'd still be alive! In all this insanity, he suddenly realized that the one thing he had forgotten was to pray. He gripped the steering wheel and bowed his head, but he didn't pray. He screamed. "Oh, God, please! Let Roger be safe! Bring him back to me! Don't let any harm befall him. I know he turned his back on you, but, God, please forgive him, and forgive me for any wrong deed you might want to punish me for! Just don't punish me this way! Please, God, I know you know where he is! Have him call me on the phone and say he's all right. Please! Please! Please!". Cliff started crying and couldn't stop. Cliff realized he'd suddenly lost his faith. He hated God. In his mind, Cliff had convinced himself Roger was gone and he'd never see him again. "DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN EVERYTHING ALL TO HELL!!" <><><><><><><><><><><> THIS IS THE END OF BOOK ONE. BOOK TWO IS THE STORY OF ANOTHER FAMILY, "THE CLAYTON CLAN" IN BRIARWOOD. BOTH BOOKS WILL COMBINE AND CONTINUE IN BOOK THREE.