Date: Thu, 10 Nov 2005 19:39:14 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: briarwood:far-from-the-crowd-39

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.

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                                 "BRIARWOOD"
                            Copyright Ritchris, 2005

                          aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
                            Copyright Ritchris, 2002

                                Revised Version

                                A dramatic saga

                                      by

			        Ritch Christopher

                                  <><><><><>

                                   BOOK FOUR


                               "FAR FROM THE CROWD"

                               Chapter Thirty-nine

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                 "Somewhere the years of my youth lie inside me.
                        growing old like mellow wine.
                  I shed no tears for my youth, none that blind me.
                  They're behind me now where those sad times
                        will never find me.
                  I have the loves of my life to remind me
                        that the whole wide world was mine.

                  I feel at peace with all that surrounds me,
                  And the joy of these autumn days still astounds
                        me.

                  Somewhere the years of my youth seemed so endless,
                        like a thousand dreams come true.
                  Meadows of summer green that I ran through,
                  And the boy who gave me his warm loving arms to
                        turn to.
                  How little time from our first sweet beginnings
                        to our lonely last goodbye.

	          But I have so many songs left unsung yet,
                  I'm young yet and my heart is the heart
                        of a young man,
                  A young man who doesn't want to die.

                           "The Years Of My Youth"
                            written by Hal Shaper
                            Copyright 1970 by
                            Productions Michel LeGrand
                            Paris, France


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	Moving from Briarwood to Los Angeles for Alex and Ted was like the
country boy seeing New York for the first time.  There were so many
people...all types...multinational...multisexual...all going at such a fast
pace to God knows where, because surely they didn't know.

	Alex was as frightened as Ted was excited when they got off the
plane at LAX airport. Ted had been given the address of an apartment by the
sports station, an apartment that he could use on a temporary basis until
he could find one of his own. Alex had experienced riding in a New York cab
when he had attended the opening of Rob's and Timmy's "Green Dolphin
Street", but nowhere, no way, would the New York ride compare to the
L.A. taxi.

	First of all, the L.A. cab driver spoke absolutely no English, only
Mexican-Spanish. Thank God the address was written on a piece of paper or
they never would've arrived at their destination. What made it worse was
that the ride involved getting on the L.A. freeway, which was like entering
the jaws of Hell. Alex swore that no car was traveling slower than 100
mph. Everyone was switching lanes with no warning or signal whatsoever,
moving in and out, in and out, plunging around each car ahead of the
next. Jesus God! There must be some off-the-freeway streets where you could
travel without risking your life at the hands of the crazy drivers talking
away on their cell phones, completely oblivious to the traffic or the
danger they were in...or the danger they were causing others. Life in
L.A. was going to take its toll on the two boys! Just getting used to the
pace of the enormous city would be nearly impossible.

	There had been no send-off when Alex and Ted departed. That's the
way Alex had wanted it. It had been painful to him, knowing he wouldn't be
around his dad, David, and crazy lovable Jeff. Also, Alex had had one more
difficult decision to make.  'Uncle' Roger had given him five million
dollars to continue the clinic, plus five more in five years if he was
still at the clinic, and this had concerned Alex.  Jeff had been close to
Roger and more so, to Cliff. Alex's relationship to, or ties with Roger and
Cliff was always good, but not worth ten million dollars, he knew.  Alex
had talked with his dad and had told him he wanted whatever monies Roger
had given him to go entirely to the clinic. Alex said he would find a job
and in the meantime, he and Ted would live off Ted's salary in L.A.

	Walter had been pleased and astonished at his son's unselfishness,
but then, Alex had always been a good boy. Walter hoped Ted realized how
fortunate he was to have Alex as a soul-mate.

	When Walter relayed Alex's wishes about the money to Roger. Roger
had other plans, as he felt Alex should be rewarded in some way for all the
young men and women he had helped plus the lives Alex had saved at the
Crisis Center. No, no matter how much Alex objected, Roger insisted on
giving an endowment to Alex for a 'job well done'.

	Roger instructed Walter to have a cashier's check made out to Alex
for two million dollars. That would be enough to pay for his education, a
house, a car, a trip, plus a little nest egg until he found his way in
L.A. or wherever he and Ted decided to spend the rest of their lives. In
addition, should Alex and Ted remain together for the obligatory five years
as the rest of the Briarwood 'couples', Alex and Ted would receive an
additional three million dollars.

	Alex, of course, had put up a big fuss and refused the check, but
no one, absolutely no one, could refuse Roger...ever! A funny idea occurred
to Alex; his brother, Jeff, was following in Father Cliff's and Roger's
footsteps and was going to be just like them. Jeff already was, insofar as
no one could say 'no' to Jeff either. So, reluctantly, Alex took the
gift. For some reason, even he couldn't explain, Alex didn't tell Ted about
the money. He did feel guilty about not telling about this to the
boy-guy-man-lover with whom he had chosen to spend the rest of his
life. Maybe it was embarrassment...maybe he didn't want a huge lump sum in
their bank account destroying Ted's goals and dreams.  Money has ruined
more relationships than poverty...gay or straight.

	The temporary apartment in L.A. reminded Alex of the complex used
in Showtime's "Maupin's 'Tales of the City'". There were two stories of
apartments built around a quaint courtyard with a small swimming pool with
chipped marcite. It had been a luxurious old house at one time...in old
California when stars were stars and not flash-in-the-pan "one hit film"
would-be actors.  What was even more astonishing was that this was the
apartment that the sports station had "given" Ted, considering that most of
the residents were gay or lesbian. All it needed was handsome, naked Billy
Campbell with Olympia Dukakis as its landlady.

	Alex and Ted were confident of their love and relationship. They
had long passed beyond any jealousies or worries about the other's
fidelity. Maybe that's another reason Alex hadn't revealed the 'check' to
Ted. He wanted Ted to want and love him for himself...not for any goddamned
money, not that Ted would. But then, Ted had never been in the locker room
interviewing a bunch of naked Rams, Dodgers, or Lakers before. The idea of
this gave Alex a moment of minor anxiety, but it passed.

	Alex couldn't decide what kind of job to look into. He COULD apply
at one of the many crisis clinics in L.A. because L.A. had lots and lots of
crises. That was for sure. However, Alex wasn't certain that he wanted to
plunge into another stressful work environment... Maybe something fun this
time, but what?  His dad, Father Cliff, Roger, and especially Jeff had had
a definite influence on Alex's wanting to help people...especially young
gays who always seemed to be in need of something or other due to society,
the right-wing Republicans, or anyone else who delighted in making their
lives hell.

	Ted was excited being on his own, or rather, he and Alex being on
THEIR own...away from his mom and dad, away from Alex's dad and Alex's new
stepfather...away from the suburban lifestyle of Briarwood with all the new
family ties to religion which he had never understood nor ever expected to
fathom. He was thrilled at his acceptance by the sports station. The salary
was more than generous and easily enough for him and Alex to live on.  But
Alex was not the type to assume the role of newlywed househusband. Ted
hoped that wherever Alex found work, he would be as satisfied as he was
himself. It was important for him to make Alex as comfortable and happy as
possible. After all, Alex had given up his job, his family, and practically
his whole life to follow Ted to L.A., so that Ted could fulfill his dream.

	The two of them could live together as a couple at long last. They
could walk around nude whenever they were at home and make love if and when
either of them felt the urge. When Alex began working at the Crisis Center
in Briarwood, his and Ted's sex sessions dropped off enormously. Alex,
working with guys and gals who had STD's, hepatitis, or who were HIV
positive, had made him overly cautious. Even though neither he nor Ted
catted about with other partners, the thought of contagion or infection
made a huge impression in his mind every time the two of them slept
together on the weekends. It became so serious that it was almost
impossible for Alex to get an erection. Impotence at such a young age was
actually becoming rampant. Whether it was fear or caution, the TV ads for
Viagra and such said that almost 40% of the American males suffered from
some kind of erectile dysfunction. Alex wondered how soon this problem
would affect the population growth in the straight world.

	Both of them seemed pleased with their temporary digs. They weren't
in a hurry to find their own place until they were settled in their new
jobs. Alex had access to his endowment but had told his dad to send him a
monthly allowance from it. That way, Ted would think that Walter was
supporting Alex until Alex got on his feet financially.

	When Ted returned home from work on the second night, he and Alex
decided to go into the courtyard and meet their neighbors who were having a
barbecue around the pool. There were at least eight young men and six young
ladies all laughing and cavorting, pouring beer, and splashing in and out
of the pool. Every one of them had the expected California tan and streaks
of sun bleach in their hair. God, they all looked beautiful. Four of the
guys were couples while the other four were just roommates. Two of the six
girls were a lesbian couple. The other four were straight, each pretty
enough to easily get a job with Heidi Fleiss, should they want to. They all
looked as if they were surfers, or at least beach bums and bunnies.

	Alex and Ted donned shorts, wife-beaters, and thong sandals and
prepared to meet their apartment mates. Sherman and Howie, Derek and Sammy,
the two gay couples, greeted them happily, as did Buzz, Jimmy, Ty, and
Gary. The lesbian couple was Dot and Maxine.  The other girls were Connie,
Lisa, Cheryl, and Lola.  Everyone was friendly, and within fifteen minutes,
Alex and Ted felt totally relaxed, felt that they had been accepted. Thirty
minutes after that, Ted was helping Jimmy and Ty throw Buzz into the pool.

	Alex sat in a lounge chair, sipping a mug of beer, and suddenly the
group in front on him reminded him of home with Jeff, Jay, Troy, Kyle, and
Ryan having a free-for-all in Roger's pool.  He smiled and began to feel at
home. People here were the same as they were two thousand miles away in
Briarwood. Gary came over to sit by Alex while the others continued playing
joust in the pool.

	"What do you do?" Gary asked.

	"Pardon?" Alex asked.

	"I mean what kind of work do you do? And do you have a job?"

	"I haven't decided yet."

	"Are you into sports like your boyfriend?"

	"No, not really. He's the brawn of our family." Alex said, smiling,
looking at his lover having a good time in the pool.

	"How long have the two of you been together, if you don't mind my
asking?"

	"Since we were babes in bassinets, but only as a couple for about
two years."

	"Wow! And you're still together?"

	"Yep."

	"Well, you two must've taken that phrase about 'not forgetting your
first love' seriously." Gary said.

	"I'd never thought about it, but I guess you're right."

	"Do you mind if I ask if you're gay, Gary?" Alex asked.

	"Yes...and no."

	"You mean you're bi?"

	"No, I'm gay, all right...or at least I used to be gay."  He
suddenly became quiet.

	"A guy with your looks shouldn't have any trouble getting a
boyfriend."

	"I...uh....had one."

	"Oh?"

	"Yeah, but he died."

	Alex felt a cringe. He knew the rest of Gary's conversation even
before it was spoken.

	"Yep," Gary continued. "He got the old high-five. The sad thing
about it is...I don't know whether he got it from me or I got it from him."

	"Are you full blown?" Alex asked with interest.

	"Like a San Gay Pride parade."

	"Are you on meds?"

	"A ton of them. They seemed to work on me better than they did on
Ken, my lover, who died."

	"Shit! This was too much like being at home," Alex thought. The
first person he'd met to converse with in California was like one of any
number of clients he'd had at the Briarwood Crisis Center. He wondered if
there was a sign around his neck advertising he had worked as a
counselor. This fucking disease seemed to be his albatross. He was
confronted by a victim wherever he went.

	Alex's impulse was to get up and leave. He didn't feel like taking
on his first 'client' in California just yet. He really didn't want to
discuss AIDS, the Cole Institute, meds, or even broccoli.  He needed a
fresh start after all the pressure that had been on him overseeing the
center. Why couldn't he be a happy under-achiever and pursue a career
flipping burgers at Wendy's or popping corn at K-Mart, something where the
only life-making decisions were if you wanted something rare or well done,
small bagged popcorn or the large boxed? The idea of these work prospects
produced an inward smile in Alex. If life could just be that simple...But
it wasn't! No, he was the son of Walter Clayton and the brother of
soon-to-be 'Father' Jeff Clayton and he had been taught to accept the
realities of the world. People DO need people...and he, Alex, was one of
those that people needed!

	"How long you had it, Gary?" Alex asked, coming back from his
self-concerned thoughts to the conversation with his new friend.

	"I got tested around two years ago. That's when they found it. I
don't know how long I'd had it before that. As soon as I came back
positive, I felt it necessary that Ken be tested too.  Hell, we weren't
gadabouts. Both of us had been careful in choosing sex partners before we
became a couple. So, the report on Ken came back positive...the same as
mine. That's why neither of us knew which one of us had given it to the
other."

	"That's what I've heard from many couples." Alex remarked.

	"The strange thing was that we both had it but we had different
strains of the virus. My meds wouldn't work on him and vice-versa. Only his
meds didn't work for him either!" Gary said, with a slight break in his
voice. "Fuck, I don't know why I'm telling you all this. We met less than
an hour ago. You just seem like the type who'll listen to what someone has
to say."

	Alex took a beat before telling Gary about the job he had just
quit...about the center...Roger's Institute and hospital...the research
project for a cure. Once Alex started talking, he couldn't seem to
stop. The more he revealed, the more Gary's face seemed to glow with hope
and interest in what Alex had to say.

	It was a meaningless gesture, but sometime during Alex's monologue
of revelation, they held hands without knowing which of them had taken the
other's hand. It just sorta 'happened'. An unspoken bond was formed between
them almost instantly. The desire to help the needy and the need to be
needed converged into one outreach.

	From the pool, Ted noticed his lover holding Gary's hand, but it
didn't bother him. He was confident of Alex's faithfulness, and over the
past few years, he'd seen Alex holding many guys' hands. Alex was aware of
Ted's trust and appreciated it. That's what had made their love endure
since puberty. Ted knew there would be many more that Alex would hold and
comfort in the future. That was what made Alex, Alex...the same with Walter
and Jeff. It just ran in the Clayton family.


             * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



	When Ed finally left Chris' house, shortly before midnight, true to
his promise, Chris gave Roger a ring.

	"Hello?" Roger said.

	"You...you told me to call you later...I don't know if you meant
this much later. I hope you weren't asleep."

	"Neither Cliff nor I ever go to bed before 2;00 AM. As I matter of
fact, I was a bit worried that you might not call. So how was your evening
with our fine administrator?"

	"Actually, it was quite enjoyable."

	"How was dinner and did the two of you find something to talk about
besides work?"

	"We had a lovely meal at my favorite French restaurant. Since Ed
has spent so much time in Paris, I thought he might like to refresh his
taste buds with some nice French cuisine."

	"That was a very admirable choice, Chris."

	"We did discuss work, some, but the conversation somehow shifted to
the topic of music and I learned that he like Mahler symphonies, just as
I."

	"Then you did find out that you two had some common outside
interests?"

	"Yes, you and Cliff will be happy to know he's a huge Broadway
musical buff and he's seen, 'Green Dolphin Street' three times."

	"You've got to be kidding! I'm sure you told him all about Rob and
Timmy?"

	"He didn't know about yours and Cliff's relation with them, and he
was amazed. He's a big fan of Rob's."

	"If Rob and Timmy can make it down to Briarwood for Christmas, Ed
will simply have to meet them."

	"I'm sure he'd love it."

	"I hope you became good friends, Chris."

	"We did. Ed came back to the manse with me for brandy and we
cranked up those Bose speakers you bought to a very high decibel level
which really shows off Mahler."

	"Chris, what you just told me is music to my ears. I've been
worried about Ed...worried that he puts too much time in at the hospital
and needs some kind of social relief. I won't deny that Cliff has said the
same thing about you."

	"Work is one thing I never complain about."

	"But you should. You're young. You have to kick up your heels
sometimes or go running down Main Street stark naked."

	"I...I see you've read Kerouac too."

	"I used to worship him! I took off 'on the road' once, just as Jack
did. Only I didn't wind up in San Francisco. I wound up in Nepal."

	"So, do you think it's all right to be Ed's dinner date this
weekend at our house?"

	"I won't lie. I told him you'd call him in the morning with an
invitation,"

	"And..."

	"We'll both accept. As a matter of fact, he's picking me up and
we're driving there together."

	"I can't wait to tell Cliff. He's going to be as pleased as I."

	"Roger...?"

	"Yes?"

	"You DO remember that he's straight, don't you?"

	"In all my years of traveling and meeting people, I've never met a
totally straight man."

	"Meaning?"

	"Cliff could explain this to you better than I, but then, you're a
priest too and should know that God just didn't make male and female
bodies. He gave them souls...and souls can be attracted to other souls no
matter what gender they belong to."

	"I know what you're talking about...and once again, you're
correct. I'll be honest in saying I felt that Ed's and my souls were
attracted to the other's."

	Chris, with all his heart, wanted to tell Roger about Ed's kiss,
but he bit his tongue and kept the secret to himself for fear Roger and
Cliff might try to encourage a relationship whether or not it was meant to
be.

	"So, then? Cliff will see you at Morning Prayer?"

	"Neither snow nor rain nor gloom of night shall stay this courier
from the swift completion of my appointed rounds," Chris recited.

	"Good night, Chris and thanks for calling."

	"Good night, Roger. You can tell Cliff whatever you want about my
evening with Ed. Make up something and give Cliff a thrill."

	"I think I will!"

	Roger hung up the phone. He turned and saw an anxious stare from
Cliff.

	"WELL...?" Cliff said. "How did it go?"

	Cliff no sooner got the words out of his mouth before Jay and Troy
appeared in the den.

	"Yes, Roger?" Jay said. "How did Chris' date turn out with Ed?"

	"You mean you two stayed up to find out how their evening went?"
Roger asked, amused at Jay and Troy.

	"Yes, dammit! And don't try pulling our legs by saying nothing
happened."

	"Well, I could lie and say they went to bed together at the manse
OR I could tell you that the two of them had a nice dinner at a French
restaurant and spent the rest of the evening listening to a Mahler
symphony."

	"I think I'd rather hear you lie to us!" Jay said.

	"Jay, Jay, Jay, I told you that Ed has no interest in Chris other
than on a friendly or professional basis.  He has no interest in any other
men that I know of.  ED is straight, Jay."

	"Sure...Rock Hudson and Cary Grant looked straight too...at least
eight inches of each was straight!"

	"You get more incorrigible as the days go by." Roger said, joking.

	"But they DID have a good time together?" Jay asked.

	"Yes, so much so, that Ed is going to pick Chris up this weekend
and they're coming here to dinner together."

	"HALLELUJAH!" screamed Jay, "to quote Parson Brindley!"

	"You loveable idiot!"

	"Why, my, my, I DO believe we're gonna have two gentlemen callers,
come Friday night!" Jay said, mimicking a Southern belle.

	"Can it, Laura, and go play with your menagerie!" Troy said to Jay.

	"You know where my menagerie is, lover." Jay replied back. "but
your balls aren't glass. They're CRYSTAL!"

	Troy took a loving swat at Jay's butt.

	"Stop that!" Jay squealed. "You know I don't like being hit unless
I'm wearing leather.

	"Then why don't you go into the bedroom and put on a saddle and
I'll ride you all night!" Troy retorted.

	"Thanks, Roy, I'll DO just that." Jay announced, going down the
hall singing, "Happy trails to you..."

	Cliff stood there laughing at Jay.

	"He's good for you," Cliff said to Troy.

	"I know...and I love him." Troy said, love shining in his eyes.

	"You guys are so great together."

	"We owe our happiness to you and Roger."

	"Not really. I think it was God's plan that led you to each other."

	"Probably." Troy said, smiling and then leaving.

	"Rog?"

	"Yes?"

	"Were you being truthful just now?"

	"About what?"

	"Chris and Ed?"

	"Yes."

	"Nothing happened?"

	"Not really."

	"'Not really? But you do get the impression that Chris likes Ed a
lot?""

	"Maybe."

	"Then I'll go say a prayer and see if God can plan something for
the two of them."

	"You're almost as bad as your other half, me!"

	"What about Ed? Do you think there's a possibility that..."

	"All I can say is Chris is working on that matter."

	"Then perhaps we can give him a little help," Cliff replied wryly.

	"Cliff, if it's meant to be...it WILL be."

	"Too bad you're not in line to be the next Dalai Lama. You'd make a
good one, you know?"

	"I've had my head shaved twice in my life, but never again. Come
on, let's you and me go to bed and see if we can remember what we used to
do."

	"I have a vague recollection..."

	"Then hold onto it until we get to the bedroom!"


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	Chris turned out the lights, went into his bedroom and
undressed. He crawled into bed nude and lay there thinking about the
evening... dinner, Ed, the music and the moment on the couch.  They had
kissed. Ed had not tried to pull back and he showed no shame when they had
separated. Neither of them wanted it to go any farther than the one
kiss. It was too soon and there was too much at risk for both of them.

	Chris rolled over and hugged the adjoining pillow. He lay there
imagining....what if Ed HAD spent the night? Then a whole string of
emotions followed the thought, ranging from contentment to fear. Would he
ever fall in love? Would he ever find someone in his life like Roger and
Cliff were to each other?  Probably not. But...could Ed find a place in his
life for him? Suddenly Chris king-sized bed seemed twice the size and twice
as lonely...still, Ed had kissed him on their first date...



      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



	Timmy nervously measured the coffee into the coffeemaker,
continuously glancing at the door. Rob had been gone longer than Timmy had
expected. He didn't relish the idea of telling Dorothy all by himself about
Gene's murder. He wished Rob were here to help him. After all, what if
Dorothy had a heart condition or worse? Who knows how the details of Gene's
death would affect her?

	This had been the longest day for him, what with two shows, a
torrential rain to combat on the way home, the traffic the cab met was
horrendous...and then all the hoopla of the police, detectives, paramedics,
and the quick glance he got of Gene's mutilated body had drained all his
strength and emotional fortitude. He planned on sleeping all day today
until show time. He longed to snuggle in Rob's arms and feel safe again.

	Dorothy's eyes wandered about Timmy's living room. There were
autographed pictures on the walls, pictures signed by every known name in
the Broadway world. On the baby grand piano sat two shiny Tony Awards and a
Grammy. Over the plush velvet couch was a framed show card of "Green
Dolphin Street" with Rob's name above the title. On both sides of the
piano's music stand were stacks of Broadway scores and music manuscript
paper containing tunes that Timmy and Rob had written, hopefully for a new
Broadway show next season, after their current contracts expired. On the
far wall were rows of CD's of every B'way show available, plus many
collectors' items. Beneath them was a rather large collection of their
favorite DVD movies. Needless to say, Dorothy was rather impressed by the
decor. Timmy and Rob had made it big in such a short amount of time.

	Dorothy reached inside her purse to touch the shiny object she was
concealing and it put a wry smile on her face. "Too bad their music will
never be heard," she thought..."at least, not performed by the composers."

	"Dorothy" was not her real name. It was Agnes...Agnes Brimley. She
HAD no brother...OR sister. She had been raised in a rather strict
religious environment. Her father had been a Pentecostal minister, her
mother, the church organist. Agnes had never been allowed to wear lipstick
or fingernail polish, to cut her hair, or exhibit her body in tight-fitting
clothing. These all represented sins of the flesh, according to her
father. At the age of eighteen, she'd never had a boyfriend...or a
date. She had never been to a dance, a prom, or a movie.  The TV at her
house was only allowed to be tuned to religions services and they had to be
scrutinized for their beliefs. Catholic masses on TV were taboo. The
Catholics were all going to hell with the Jews and all other Christians who
didn't believe in the ONE true God.

	When Agnes was nineteen, her father died from a coronary, which he
had had during a Holy Ghost baptism.  The girl he was attempting to
submerge almost drowned when he let go of her body suddenly and fell on top
of her.  The baptismal was four feet deep and there must have been several
inches of water missing which the girl had swallowed before the choir
director made a lunge in the water to save his pastor who had sunk to the
bottom...on top of the girl. Agnes' mother had told her that her father had
died the way that God had chosen for him...doing the Lord's work. The
mother actually seemed pleased about it.

	Agnes didn't think about God's intervention when her mother was
killed, hit by a garbage truck while trying to jay-walk on the streets of
Crossville, Tennessee. As a matter of fact, her mother's death had a
strange effect on Agnes and her outlook on the world. A year later, she was
wearing heavy makeup with long false fingernails painted scarlet red to
match her lips. She wore tight sweaters and skirts and went to movies and
saw all the worldly things she had been denied while growing up.

	One night in the bathtub she scrubbed herself so hard she learned
about masturbation and had her first orgasm. The "joys of the flesh" were
wonderful! They were God-given. She couldn't wait until she felt a man's
"thing" inside her. She took a bus downtown to a beer bar and made herself
"available" in case some gentleman was interested.  She wore a sweater much
too small for her, accenting her newly discovered bustline...high heels and
black panty hose and enough perfume to gag a goose or kill a gnat.

	At the far end of the long bar sat a sailor in his white suit. He
had spent most of his pay and was looking for a cheap place to spend the
night before taking a Trailways bus to Charleston, via Knoxville,
Tennessee. His ship was leaving the next day for unknown ports and it might
be a long time before he got another piece of pussy...American pussy,
anyway. He spotted Agnes and immediately he saw a fast and easy mark. If he
could pick her up, he would have a broad and a bed...or a broad IN a
bed...either way, his problems would be solved.

	Agnes was taken in by his boldness when he asked her to dance to
the music of the jukebox. She'd never danced but she was ready to try
anything and everything...just adding to all the things her father had
warned her about that would cause her to lose her soul in the eternal lake
of fire.

	The sailor, whose name turned out to be Jake, had had a few two
many mugs so the dancing was merely holding her close and taking a few baby
steps in time with the music...a slow ballad.  Agnes was beside herself in
dreamland. Jake began to grind his crotch into hers and she thought she
would faint when she felt his thing getting harder and larger through his
trousers and her tight skirt. "My Lord." she thought, "they actually DO
swell up and get hard! What in the world would make men's 'things' do
that?"

	By the end of the second song, Agnes had invited Jake to her home
for coffee and homemade apple pie. Jake was still sober enough to know that
his mission was accomplished with pillows, pie, and pussy!!

	Although Agnes was curious about the sight of a naked man, she
turned the light off as they began to undress for...well, whatever! Her
heart stopped and she held her breath as the naked sailor eased into the
bed next to her. She was really stunned when he kissed her...her very first
kiss...and found it nauseating when he tried to pry her lips apart with his
tongue.  This was revolting and unclean but she played along with it for
fear he would stop before she got what she wanted most...a man, actually
inside her...her...vagina! She'd never heard anyone say that word
before. That, too, was a sin. Well, she didn't really say it out loud...but
she thought it.

	Jake let his hands roam until he had cupped each of her breasts and
was flicking her nipples with his thumbs simultaneously. Good heavens! Her
nipples were hard as two thimbles and she felt moisture between her
legs. Was she peeing? Surely not...she didn't even have the urge to pee,
but some liquid seemed to be oozing out of her...her...vagina! What if HE
found out about it? The very thought of his finding out that she was peeing
or whatever embarrassed her...in the dark. Thank the Lord the lights were
out and he couldn't see her blushing.

	Slowly, he edged his body on top of hers. His weight almost
smothered her and she thought she couldn't breathe...and then...she felt
'it'. My God! How big did it get? It felt enormous! Why, it had grown to
nearly five inches...or maybe six. Her "vagina" was not large or deep
enough to put all that manhood inside her! But Jake was attempting to, just
the same.

	Agnes screamed when he put the tip of it in her. Her whole body was
trembling...at least as much as she COULD tremble with all his weight on
top of her. And then, it happened! With one huge thrust, he rammed all of
him into her opening and she thought he had ripped her apart.  She tried
her best to push him off but it was too late. Jake was lunging deeper and
deeper and she felt trapped, besides being in the most horrifying pain
she'd ever known.

	"Get off!!" Agnes cried out. "Get off, you monster!!
You're...you're raping me and I don't like it one bit!!"

	Jake apparently had been horny for some time because on his seventh
or eighth thrust he spilled a sea of sperm inside her and she felt his
"thing" go limp and became smaller and seemed to pop out of her. That's
when she felt the strength to throw him off her and he landed in the floor
beside the bed.  Agnes jumped out of bed and ran for her bathrobe and then
hurried to gather his clothes from the floor and throw them at him.

	"Get out!!" she screamed. "Get out before I kill you or something
worse!"

	Poor old puzzled Jake grabbed his clothes and ran out the door
stark naked. He dressed behind a bush about a block down the darkened
street. Agnes, meanwhile, ran to the bathroom to draw a tub of hot water to
get the smell of this...this MAN off her and out of her. She bathed for
over an hour.

	Nine months later, Clarence was born, the son of Agnes and some
dark angel God had sent to her one night. Yes, Agnes was the second
Immaculate Conception. She moved to Roanoke, Virginia, where she joined the
Church of God and brought her son up in a godly way...no movies, no tight
jeans, no sports, no TV, and definitely, NO girls or even pictures of
girls.  Clarence was sent to her by God and he would be raised holy.

	Until his eighteenth birthday, Clarence had been shielded from his
peers, but he knew he was gay. He'd never had a boy, but at night when he
was sure his mother was asleep, he masturbated while thinking of every
good-looking boy in school. He had been doing this since he was fourteen.

	A few nights later, after his eighteenth homemade birthday cake,
Clarence was walking downtown and passed Roanoke's Municipal Auditorium
where a Broadway touring company of "Into the Woods" was playing. Clarence
had never seen a show, live or on film, but he wanted to experience a few
things in life that his church taught against. He slowly walked around the
corner to the stage entrance. There was a boy standing outside the door
lighting a cigarette. He was dressed rather funny in bright blue overalls
and an orange and white striped shirt...and yellow shoes. The boy looked up
and saw Clarence.

	"Hey, you got a light?" the boy asked.

	"What?" Clarence asked back.

	"A light...you know...light?...Cigarette?...Burn?...Smoke?"

	"Oh...oh, no. I don't have one. I don't smoke." Clarence replied to
this strangely dressed, very attractive, almost handsome creature.

	"Well, I DO! Only I can't! I have a cigarette but my goddamned
lighter went dry!"

	Clarence's face turned red. He'd never heard anyone use the Lord's
name in vain. He didn't know if he was embarrassed or offended.

	"You seen the show?" the boy asked.

	"What?...Oh, no. I haven't seen the show."

	"You oughta! It's great. I'm 'Jack'...or at least I play 'Jack'. My
real name is Brad. Brad Cruise! Oh, not really, that's my stage name. I
don't tell anyone my REAL name."

	"You're not really Brad, but you are Brad, and you play someone
called 'Jack'. Right?"

	"Now you got it! It's a bit confusing if you're not in show
business. You aren't, are you?"

	"No." Clarence replied, resolutely.

	"Well, you oughta be. You're good looking enough."

	Brad's reply embarrassed Clarence who had never thought about his
looks.

	"Thanks, I guess."

	"You seemed surprised that I said that."

	"It's just that I never heard a guy tell another guy that he was
good-looking before."

	"Oh, we say all kinds of things like that in the 'biz'," Brad
remarked. 'But, anyway, you are."

	"I'm what?"

	"Good looking, asshole."

	Being called a name really offended Clarence. He didn't know how to
react or what to say in his defense.

	"Did I say something wrong?" Brad continued, seeing the look on
Clarence's face.

	"I..uh, didn't like what you called me."

	"I didn't mean anything by it. It's just something I call someone
who doesn't seem to understand what I'm talking about,"

	"You call everyone an...an asshole and no one gets mad?"

	"Boy, I can tell you've lived in the sticks all your life. You
never been to the big city?"

	"Which one."

	"The ONLY big city...New York!!!"

	"No, I haven't...asshole." Clarence couldn't believe he had just
said a dirty word...and used it to call a complete stranger. He looked
surprised and embarrassed at himself before breaking out in laughter.

	Brad caught on quickly what had just happened and he joined
Clarence in his laughing. They both laughed to the point of hysteria,
actually leaning on one another's shoulder. When their mirth subsided, they
withdrew from the semi-embrace and their eyes locked into a "knowing" gaze.
They had something in common... something unspoken, but understood by each
of them.

	Clarence's face flushed once again. He suddenly thought he was
about to kiss Brad and it nearly scared the life out of him.  This feeling,
this unknown sensation, had almost gotten the best of him. Whatever he had
felt, Brad felt it, too.

	"Look, I'm sorry for being so rude," Brad said. "It's just
that...OK I want to make it up to you."

	"What?"

	"I get house seats if I want them and I'd love to give you my house
seats for you to bring someone with you...anyone...girlfriend, boyfriend,
mother...anyone, to come see me in the play. How about it?"

	"Well, I don't know."

	"You said you've never seen it! Now you can...and for free!"

	This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to Clarence
in his entire life. He was so smitten by this boy...about his same age. He
would have walked through hot coals if Brad had asked. Why, he would even
defy his mother and sneak off and see a real play with live people
performing on a stage.

	"How about tomorrow night?"

	Clarence thought a moment how he would be able to deceive Agnes,
but soon broke out in a big smile and said, "Sure! Sure, I'll come."

	"What's your name? I'll leave two tickets for you at the box
office."

	"It's Clarence. Clarence Brimley!...And I'll only need one ticket."

	"You don't want to bring someone with you?"

	"No."

	"Great! Then maybe, if you're willing, you and I can go out and get
a bite to eat after the show."

	"Er...OK."

	"Whoops! I gotta go. They're starting the overture. See 'ya
tomorrow night!"

	"Yeah...tomorrow night!" Clarence said, as he floated home.

	Clarence had never lied to his mother, but maybe this once, the
Lord would forgive him.  Who knows? Maybe he could win Brad's soul over to
the Lord. He told his mom he was going to a prayer group at church and he
wanted to walk home to save money, so he might be late.

	Agnes had no reason to suspect anything or to doubt her son's
veracity, but she knew that if Clarence was going to a Church of God
pray-in, it would be well chaperoned.  Little did she know that this was
the night of the beginning of something that would change her life forever.

	Brad had reserved the best seat in the house for Clarence... sixth
row, aisle seat. The theatre was filled with "sinners"...the kind of people
that Clarence had never associated with. They were pretty people,
especially the women, in spite of their all being harlots wearing makeup
with short bobbed hairdos and a mixture of aromatic perfumes which made the
auditorium remind him of a house of ill-repute, whatever that was,
mentioned in the Bible. Before the show and later during intermission, both
the men and the women lit up cigarettes like fiends.

	The house lights finally dimmed and the orchestra began the
overture. A chill and a thrill went throughout Clarence's entire body.  The
curtain rose up, and on the right side of the stage, was Brad in that same
funny outfit, pretending to be milking a life-sized plastic cow which he
later sold for a handful of beans. Brad sang a song with the woman playing
his mother, arguing about the bean/cow bargain. Clarence's jaw dropped and
he sat in the theatre in awe. If this was a sin, then it was the one sin he
was glad he had committed. No church service in the world would or could
compare with the splendor and spectacle that he was beholding.

	In the second act, 'Jack's' mother was killed by the giant and Jack
sat in a fake tree-top, singing with the actor playing the
baker. Cinderella, and Little Red Riding Hood were on the opposite side of
the stage and the four of them sang. 'No One Is Alone'. Somewhere in the
middle of the first chorus, Clarence started crying. He had never been so
moved emotionally by the beauty of a melody and the message of its
lyrics. Clarence locked his eyes on Brad and instantly fell in love.

	The next week, the show left Roanoke for Indianapolis with an
additional person. Brad had talked with the company manager who was more
than just a close friend and had gotten Clarence a job as an assistant to
the assistant stage manager. Clarence left Roanoke and Agnes in the dead of
night...never to return to either. He had found a new life and a new
lifestyle...with Brad.

	Six months later, Agnes learned that the boy...the 'QUEER' that had
seduced her son into a life of sin and damnation had died from the queer
disease and Clarence had left him at the hospital to return to his and
Brad's New York apartment and committed suicide the same evening so that
they could spend their eternity together no matter whether it was in heaven
or in hell.

	Agnes went to New York to claim her son's body. At the Manhattan
City Morgue, a young man escorted her to the refrigeration room for her to
see her son once again. This guy who pulled opened the drawer to withdraw
Clarence, was obviously a queer by his feminine demeanor and affected
lisp. He had overseen the autopsy and he had touched Agnes' little
beloved's naked body. This guy's name was on his nameplate. "Stanley
Stevens". This was a name that Agnes wrote on the back of her plane ticket
envelope. She wanted to come see him again. He was the first real
homosexual she'd ever met, but it wouldn't be the last.

	A month after Clarence's funeral, a very angered, saddened, and
newly sociopathic Agnes had returned to New York where she had stalked Stan
Stevens, only to learn he had a friend, Gene Cyphers. Agnes had spent a
week fasting and praying before she got her sign from God to eradicate the
world of homosexuals, one by one, no matter how long it took.!

	She took a room in a cheap hotel on West 49th Street and spent a
week formulating her plan of action. The first person she struck down had
been Stan a month ago...then Gene tonight. But, while plotting Gene's
demise, she followed him home one night in a taxi and noticed him talking
to his next door neighbors in his apartment building...two Broadway
celebrities who appeared to be very gay to her. She figured once she had
succeeded in eliminating Gene and his roommate, she might as well go next
door and expunge the blight of homosexuality in the whole brownstone.

	She watched for the police to leave and noticed that one of the two
neighbors was still inside his apartment. That's when she decided to pay
"Timmy" a late night call. She was surprised to see how handsome he was and
not at all effeminate, as fags were supposed to be. He was mannerly and
invited her in for coffee, attempting to ease the loss of her "nephew",
Gene. While Timmy was in the kitchen, she knew she must hurry if she were
going to eliminate him and maybe wait for his roommate. Why, she could kill
three queers in one night...maybe four, if she got a 'go' at David.

	Timmy looked under the kitchen counter for a serving tray which he
set up formally with two china coffee cups with matching sugar and cream
containers, white tiny cloth napkins, spoons, and a plate of pastries Rob
had bought earlier yesterday for breakfast. Timmy wanted everything
comfortable and pleasant for Dorothy when he broke the bad news to her .
	In the corner of the living room adjacent to the swinging door to
the kitchen stood a three-foot high replica of Michelangelo's
'David'. Dorothy spied it and wondered if she could lift it and use it as a
weapon to hit Timmy with as he entered from the kitchen. It was plaster of
Paris and much lighter than she expected but still heavy enough for the job
she intended. She would hold it almost as high as her head and press her
back against the wall that would hide her enough to ambush her victim with
an element of surprise.  Then she could retrieve her shiny sharp object
from her purse and finish her planned deed. Just as she leaned over to lift
the statue, Timmy swung open the door with his foot, carrying the tray, and
at the same time, the front door of the apartment opened as Rob entered.

	"Hey, babe!" Timmy and Rob said to one another, simultaneously.

	The kitchen door had swung open almost far enough to hit Dorothy in
the butt. Luckily, for her sake, she had not picked up "David" yet.  She
stood abruptly and faced the two of them. Her face was flushed.

	"Oh, hello...", Dorothy said, sweetly to Rob.

	"Hello?..."Rob replied.

	"Rob, this is Dorothy Cyphers, Gene's aunt."

	"Hello, Miss Cyphers.  I'm sorry about your loss", Rob added.


	"My loss?" Dorothy exclaimed with a pseudo-surprised expression.

	"IX-nay." Timmy whispered to Rob, "I haven't told her yet. She
doesn't know about Gene."

	Then Rob's face turned red, as did Timmy's.

	"My loss?....What do you mean?" Dorothy continued her 'act'.

"Has something happened to my Gene?"

	"Dorothy, you'd better have a seat. I'm afraid we have some very
bad news for you."

	Dorothy grabbed her heart and slowly made her way back to the large
easy chair, playing her role to the hilt.

	Slowly, Rob began telling her of his and Timmy's discovery when
they had arrived home. Dorothy gasped before breaking into a wail and
spouting forth buckets of tears over her "loss". Rob and Timmy were
overcome by her grief and they cried, too. Timmy was relieved that Rob had
been there to do the "dirty work". At least he had been spared that. What
Timmy didn't know was that Rob had probably saved his life by coming home
at the exact moment he had.

	When all the tears, phony and real, had subsided, Dorothy composing
herself would have rivaled Bette Davis for the Oscar race. Rob and Timmy
looked both aghast and impressed at the way she had handled the news. Timmy
tried to change the subject to ease the tension.

	"Rob, how's David doing...and where is he? I thought he was coming
back with you."

	"He...uh...found a place to stay." Rob replied.

	"Oh? Where?"

	"With that new guy he met...John."

	"What new guy?...John who?" Timmy pressed on.

	"You KNOW...JOHN...the NEW guy!!" Rob emphasized by winking
privately to Timmy.  There was no need for anyone to know that David had
gone home with one of the investigators on the case.

	Timmy finally caught on. "You mean, John, the..."

	"Yes, THAT John," Rob interjected before Timmy could say
"detective".

	"You mean he's..."

	"Yep!" Rob replied with a broad smile.

	"...and he and David are going to...?" Timmy continued.

	"I suppose."

	"Damn!" Timmy said in surprised exasperation before returning his
attention to the bereaved "aunt".

	"Dorothy, is there someone you'd like us to call? Is there some
place here in the city you can stay rather than returning to Yonkers? You
must be tired and exhausted." Rob said.

	"No, no, boys, I'm fine." Dorothy said, wiping her eyes once
again. "There is no one to call and it seems such a waste to check into a
hotel at this time of the morning. I may as well drive back to Yonkers and
return tomorrow to arrange for Gene's funeral"

	"No, Dorothy!" Timmy spoke up. "We won't let you do that! Gene was
our neighbor and friend. Out of respect for him, the least Rob and I can do
is put you up for the rest of the night, or morning as the case may
be. That couch over there makes up into a nice double bed. You can stay
with us and sleep late, as Rob and I plan to do. Then, we can make a big
breakfast and we'll do all we can to help you with the plans for Gene."

	"That is so kind of you...but I really don't want to be a burden on
you. You boys have had a hard night, too." Dorothy said with the best
sincerity she could muster.

	"You're no burden. That's the least we can do," Rob offered.

	"Well, if you insist," she said, dropping her eyes.

	"We DO insist. Timmy and I will be right here in the bedroom and
we'll leave the door unlocked in case you need us."

	This phrase perked up Dorothy's interest, but she didn't show
it. They would BOTH be asleep in the room next to her...with the door
unlocked.

	"OK..if you're sure!"

	"Then it's settled!" Rob said. "Let me show you where the bathroom
is and get you some towels and a spare toothbrush. If you like, I'll loan
you one of my shirts to sleep in."

	"Oh, you boys are so kind. I can't thank you enough."

	"You don't have to."

	The three of them finished their decaf coffee and Rob and Timmy
retired to their room while Dorothy lay in the sofa bed thinking....and
smiling.


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(To be continued in "Briarwood"--BOOK THREE--chapter-forty.)