Date: Fri, 17 May 2013 18:32:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: ritchchristopher@att.net
Subject: Echoes From a Wishing Well-chapter 4

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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		       "Echoes from a Wishing Well"

			 Copyright Ritchris, 2007
			 (Revised Copyright  2011)

				  A Story

				    by

			     Ritch Christopher

			       <><><><><><>

			       chapter four

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	This late summer afternoon found Dean sitting at the piano, picking
out a tune, while Cyrus relaxed on the couch reading Variety, the weekly
newspaper of show business which was delivered to them every
Wednesday. They might be inactive insofar as New York theatre was
concerned, but they both loved reading the famous weekly trade papers to
keep up with the news of Broadway and catching up on what some of their
former friends in the 'biz' were doing. However they both had reached the
point that the first place either of them thumbed to in the publication was
the obituary page. Countless Broadway singers, dancers, and even stars had
been lost since the advent of AIDS in the mid-eighties. Every year when
AMFAR did its annual AIDS benefit, Cyrus and Dean sent a sizeable donation
to the fund. Millions had been raised over the years but it seemed that, in
spite of all the money raised, a cure was still nowhere in sight.

        It appeared that Broadway, and Hollywood too, for that matter, was
composed of ninety percent Democrats. But it also seemed that presidential
election campaign time was the only time AIDS was thought about as being a
national health problem and even then, it was only the Democratic candidate
who mentioned it. During Reagan's eight years, he never once even spoke of
the dreaded disease. Bush Sr. acknowledged the fact that AIDS existed, but
that was about all. Clinton, on the other hand, had tried to advance the
treatment or find a cure but, with a Republican controlled Congress, not
enough was accomplished even then. To the extreme right-wing, AIDS was
God's way of controlling the rise in the gay population.

	When Stephen Sondheim wrote the score for 'Into The Woods', he
composed a song that had special meaning to the gay world.  It was a paean
of hope for them, but more particularly, it had been sung at nearly every
Broadway AIDS funeral, for it told that 'No One Is Alone'. On hearing the
haunting song, Dean and Cyrus had written a long letter to Sondheim,
thanking him for the oft-used anthem...sometimes too often-used. By return mail, Stephen Sondheim had sent them a framed hand-written copy of the song with a special
inscription, autograph and he'd dedicated it to his Broadway tunesmith
cohorts. Cyrus and Dean treasured the manuscript and hung it in their
living room just above their baby-grand piano. Over the years, Dean and
Cyrus had sung the song over and over until they knew every line and every
emotional nuance by heart:

                                   "Mother cannot guide you.
                                    Now you're on you're own.
                                    Only me beside you.
                                    Still, you're not alone.
                                    No one is alone, truly.
                                    No one is alone.

                                    Sometimes people leave you
                                    halfway through the wood.
                                    Others may deceive you.
                                    You decide what's good.
                                    You decide alone.
                                    But no one is alone.

                                    Mother isn't here now.
                                    Wrong things, right things...
                                    Who knows what she'd say?
                                    Who can say what's true?
                                    Nothing's quite so clear now-
                                    Do things, fight things...
                                    Feel you've lost your way?
                                    You decide, but
                                    You are not alone.
                                    Believe me.
                                    No one is alone.
                                    No one is alone,
                                    Believe me.
                                    Truly...

                                    You move just a finger,
                                    Say the slightest word,
                                    Something's bound to linger,
                                    Be heard.
                                    No one acts alone.
                                    Careful, no one is alone.

                                    People make mistakes.
                                    Fathers,
                                    Mothers,
                                    People make mistakes,
                                    Holding their own,
                                    Thinking they're alone.

                                    Honor their mistakes...
                                    Fight for their mistakes-
                                    Everybody makes-

                                    One another's
                                    Terrible mistakes.

                                    Witches can be right,
                                    Giants can be good.
                                    You decide what's right,
                                    You decide what's good.

                                    Just remember:

                                    Someone is on your side.
                                    Someone else is not.
                                    While we're seeing our side,
                                    Maybe we forgot:
                                    They are not alone.
                                    No one is alone.


                                    Hard to see the light now.
                                    Just don't let it go.

                                    Things will come out tight now.
                                    We can make it so.
                                    Someone is on your side,
                                    No one is alone."


	As he read, Cyrus found himself becoming aware of the sounds
emanating from the piano. Cyrus dropped the paper into his lap and started
paying special attention to the melody Dean was playing. "What's that
you're playing?"

	"Oh, nothing, really. I'm just diddling."

	"Play that first phrase again, then raise it a third and repeat
it."

	"Like this?" Dean asked as he did as Cyrus requested.

	"Yes, Dean. That's very nice..."

	"You're not getting itchy about writing again, are you?" The timbre
in Dean's voice had something different in it---curiosity?...diffidence?...hope?

	"I didn't say that! I just remarked that that was a lilting little
tune you are playing."

	"Why? Wanna put some words to it?"

	"Ah, no!" Cyrus replied. "That's how we started every show we
wrote. One little musical passage and suddenly we were going head-long into
a twenty to twenty-five tune score. You know how I feel about even
attempting a new show. Even Steve stopped writing after he said Broadway
was dead. They don't WANT our kind of music any longer. We're just part of
that vanishing breed of ever-growing endangered species. I don't write rock music any more than you'd like writing rock lyrics! 'Oh, baby! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!' Oh,
bullshit!"

	"People still go to Lincoln Center to the opera, don't they?"
Dean's voice had taken on a more serious quality.

	"People still go to the opera, yes, but only to be SEEN, not to see or
listen! The days of good music are gone forever! Broadway ticket buyers go
now to see the special effects! They want fireworks! Falling chandeliers!
SMOKE! FIRE! Who'd pay a hundred bucks today for a seat to hear Julie
Andrews sing 'I Could Have Danced All Night!'? Oh, no! Now Eliza Doolittle
has to fly down from the balcony and sail across the stage while the flower
merchants in Covent Garden turn over their flower bins and beat on them
like tom-toms! Freddy Eynsford Hill would have to make his entrance in a
spaceship, after which Henry Higgins ascends into heaven on a hot air balloon! You
can forget about 'On The Street Where You Live! and such! Aunt Eller in
'Oklahoma' doesn't open the show with a churn. She has a milking machine
that strains the cream, while another machine makes REAL BUTTER right in
front of the audience! And packages it, too, so they can sell it in the
lobby! "

	"You're being too harsh, Cyrus!"

	"Too harsh?...HELL! It's the truth! Thank God Rodgers and
Hammerstein, Cole Porter, Jerry Kern, and George Gershwin lived when they
did. If rock music had been introduced to Broadway in the thirties and
forties, NONE of THEIR songs would ever have been heard. They'd all have
become jewelers, tailors, or rabbis!".

	"Could we change the subject for a moment?" Dean asked.

	"Sure. What's on your mind?"

	"Well, for starters, Ronnie and Trent..."

	"What about them? They seem to be hitting it off pretty good."

	"Maybe TOO good, Cyrus..."

	"Meaning...?"

	"I think they're having sex!"

	"You mean....together?"

	"No, dummy, with the cow in the meadow...OF COURSE, TOGETHER!"

	"So...?"

	"SO?"

	"Yes, so...?"

	"Don't you think they're just a little young to...?"

	"Good God, Dean! How old were you?"

	"When...?"

	"When you first had sex with a partner?"

	"I don't rightly remember..."

	"Oh, hogwash! EVERYONE remembers his first time!"

	"There were MANY first times, so to speak..."

	"Dammit, you can be annoying at times! How can there be MORE than
ONE first time?"

	"Well, there was a first time when I had solo sex...another when I
had duo-sex, but NOT reaching an orgasm...then there was a first time when
I DID reach an orgasm with a partner."

	"My God, Cyrus, I just asked a simple question. I didn't expect you
to go into histrionic applications!"

	"In that case, I say the first time I had sex with another boy...I
was around fifteen..."

	"And how old is Trent?"

	He hesitated a moment. Then, glancing directly at his partner, he
said quietly, "Fifteen, I believe..."

	"SO...?"

	"Oh, I see what you mean."

	"Thank God! The next time I ask you a simple question, I'll try to
be more specific or speak in sign language...maybe I should try using
semaphore flags!"

	"Then whatever gave you the idea that Ronnie and Trent are having
sex?"

	"By the way they look into one another's eyes! Unless I'm very much
mistaken, I seem to recall us looking at each other in the same way."

	"You recall? Don't you think we STILL look at each other in the
same way?"

	"Of course, you old ninny! But my point is that's the way Trent and
Ronnie are looking at each other right now!"

	"Oh, dear! If Trent's Granny Dee finds out, you and I will have to
move OUT of Weston! Then again, if WE were old enough at fifteen, why
shouldn't they be, too?"

	"Because you and I courted in New York. Things are much more
accepted in the Big Apple than here in the buckle of the Bible belt!"

	"Do you suppose we should discreetly ask them about it?"

	"How do you propose to ask them, or ANYONE, 'discreetly' whether or
not they're having sex?"

	"I don't know. God, I just hope they're being safe if they ARE
indulging..."

	"And I hope they continue being safe for the next two weeks until
Ronnie goes back to New York."

	"Dean, what do you suppose would happen if they should fall in
love?"

	"That occurred to me too! It could be heartbreak and disaster for
both of them."

	"You know, if they ARE emotionally involved, wouldn't it be
wonderful if Trent could go back with Ronnie and attend the High School for
the Performing Arts? You know that's where he belongs!"

	"Yes, but you and I BOTH know, he'd never leave his Granny Dee."

	"Even if it meant his best chance of getting on Broadway?"

	"Even then..."

	"Dean, do you ever regret giving up the Great White Way for a
Tennessee green pasture?"

	"Oh, sometimes, but even then, only for a fleeting moment. New York
changed so much in the last few years before we left and it happened right
before our eyes. Most people aren't aware of changes unless they leave and
come back to look at the same place objectively."

	"Very frankly, I don't know how young kids just starting out in
theater make it in the city. Everything is so goddamned expensive
now. Apartments that used to rent for a hundred and fifty dollars a month
are now going for two thousand...and the damned places aren't even
modernized or refurbished. Used to, a young guy could go down to
Forty-Second Street to Tad's Steak House and get a piece of charred horse
meat...at least 'Tad' said it was a steak...with a baked potato and a salad
for a buck nineteen. Now you can't even buy a hot dog in New York for less
than three dollars. Hamburgers with a coke are around seven bucks. Theatre
prices were never more then nine-ninety for orchestra seats, even on
Saturday nights. Now it's over a hundred dollars per seat. Take your wife
out to dinner, pay the baby sitter, the parking, theater tickets and a
man's spent over five hundred dollars."

	"You can thank your unions for that! I used to get so damned mad
when the stage hands made twice as much as the singers and dancers. The
kids in a show like 'West Side Story' or 'A Chorus Line', danced their buns
off for two hours and made less than half than the man who only pushed a
button to raise or lower the curtain...and shows like 'A Chorus Line'
didn't EVEN have a curtain, but they still had to pay the button-pusher to
do nothing but sit on his ass!"

	"Thinking about it, I don't know if it's even worth Trent's time
and effort to attempt a Broadway career."

	"Still, if he's got the bug...who are we to keep him from trying
it?"

	"I suppose you're right."

	"HA! I KNOW I am!" Dean replied smugly.

	"Did you read here in this week's 'Variety' where Sam Lieberman
died?"

	"NO!"

	"Yep, he was eighty-two."

	"Did they say if he was survived by Barney?"

	"Yes. They were still together after all these years."

	"And who says a gay relationship can't last? I suppose they were
together over fifty years."

	"Probably longer. I still remember him in our "Tired Spirits". He
stopped the show every night."

	"I wonder how Barney will survive without him?"

	"Don't know...Probably will grieve himself to death without Sam. There's a
saying...I don't know who said it first, but everyone uses it as if it's an original thought."

                  "What's that?"

                  "A man dies twice...once when he takes his last breath and the second when the last person says his name."

	"Well, people'll be saying Sam's name for years to come. I was thinking about another idiom..."Saying goodbye is the hardest thing in the world to do because, no one truly knows how to say it."

	"That's one of the worst things about a long relationship. One doesn't want to be the first to go...and yet, he doesn't want the other to
go and leave him all alone. It's a shame that when they reach the end of
their lives, they can't go to a place like Edward G. Robinson did in that
movie, 'Soylent Green'. Pick out your favorite colors, music, clothes,
images, lie down, drink your favorite flavor of hemlock and go to eternal
sleep...if only the two of them could get to go together..."

	"It's funny, but that scene always stuck in my memory as well."

	"Want to write a musical about it?"

	"Bullshit! A musical about people eating people? No, that's already been written. It's from 'Funny Girl'. Bob Merrill wrote about it...'People, people eating people..."

        	"Oh, you're incorrible!"

	"Hallelujah! At least I'm 'in' something!"

	"Anyway! Back to Ronnie and Trent!"

	"What about them?"

	"Do you think we should ease into the subject of sex...teen
sex...just to make sure they're being safe?"

	"How do you propose we 'ease' into the subject. 'Hey Boys! I heard you went fishing. Did you catch any condoms? I hear they're in bitin' at Vernon's Pond!"

	"Well, I have no doubt that Trent is free from any STD's, but I
don't know how promiscuous Ronnie was in the big city when Art wasn't
around."

	"Do you think Ronnie is one-hundred percent gay?"

	"Good God! Is your gaydar broken? Of course he is."

	"Maybe we can approach the subject with Ronnie when Trent isn't
around."

	"And when would THAT be? They're even going to the bathroom
together to pee."

	"How do you feel about going to church with Trent's Granny Dee
tomorrow?"

	"Oh, shit! I forgot all about that!"

	"Are you ready to face the Holy Ghost?"

	"Only if He's auditioning for us!"

	"I believe it has to be the other way around. WE'RE supposed to
audition for Him!"

	"Oh, dear God! The preacher will look down from his pulpit to see
that WE'RE in his audience and he'll spend an hour talking about the
abomination of homosexuality. I'll start squirming. No doubt you'll turn
white, start perspiring and faint and Ronnie and Trent will die from
embarrassment."

	"You could fake a stroke tonight and I'd have to bow out, saying I
have to stay home to take care of you."

	"Who needs to fake a stroke? I'll probably have a real one in
church!"

	"Well, at least if you do, that'll make a quicker exit for us."

	"Ha! Ha! I just thought of a joke..."

	"What was it?"

	"What does an evangelical call a Broadway producer?"

	"I give up...what?"

	"An abominable showman!"

	"You clown! That WAS clever!"...he responded as they both laughed.

	Just then, Trent and Ronnie came inside the house with their
clothes still wet.

	"Hey, Uncle Cyrus, Uncle Dean!" Ronnie hailed.

	"Dear God in heaven! How did your clothes get so soaked?" Cyrus
inquired.

	"We went swimminG!" Trent replied, grinning at Ronnie.

	"Did it occur to either of you to wear swim suits or go skinny
dipping?" Cyrus asked.

	"We...we had a bit of trouble..." Trent said, dropping his head.

	"Trent! Don't tell me that that boy harassed you again today!" Dean
exclaimed.

	"Oh, he tried to...but Ronnie took care of him!"

	"What do you mean?"

	"I introduced him to the art of tae kwan do!" Ronnie replied.

	"Yeah, right in the nuts!" Trent added. "Boy, Farley won't be able
to walk straight for a week!"

	"Ronnie, you didn't seriously hurt him, did you?"

	"No. I just gave him back what he tried to do to us!" Ronnie said
proudly.

	"The last thing we need is a civil lawsuit."

	"Ah, Uncle Dean, he won't sue. Trent is my witness. Farley wanted
us to do something sexual to him and we refused. So if it comes to suing,
we'll sue first."

	"Something sexual?" Dean asked. "Like what?"

	"He wanted Trent and me to give him a blowjob!"

	"Good heavens! Do either of you even know what a blowjob is?"

	Without hesitating, both boys replied, "SURE!". Then the two
dropped their heads with their faces turning red for having spoken too soon
about a taboo subject.

	This was Dean's chance to talk about the sex topic, but he wondered
if he should. "Uh, well, I suppose there's nothing wrong with oral sex IF
it's between consensual partners...AND if one is in the same age range."

	"Uncle Dean...is this your way of trying to find out if Trent and I
have been fooling around?"

	"Ronnie, I would never ask that question of you or Trent...either
one..."

	"Still, you WOULD like to know, wouldn't you?" Ronnie said, putting
Dean on the defensive.

	"Only if you feel that you want or NEED to tell me...or Cyrus."

	"I'm not saying that we HAVE fooled around...but would it be all
right with the two of you if we have?"

	"Ronnie, you and Trent are both of the age that young men
experiment with lots of things...things which are private and no concern of
mine OR Cyrus' as long as they're legal. I mean if you were both smoking
marijuana or drinking hard liquor...I WOULD like to know about that since
your dad depends on us to look after you...just as Trent's Granny Dee
expects us to oversee Trent while he's spending time with you."

	"Well, then let's just say that neither Trent nor I has broken any
laws."

	"That's comforting to hear...but I don't expect you to break any
laws. You're both sound, sensible young men and both Cyrus and I are
convinced you'll do the right thing, no matter what."

	"You still didn't answer my question completely." Ronnie said.

	"Oh, didn't I? What was the question?"

	"Would you and or Uncle Cyrus get mad if Trent and I fooled
around?"

	"You mean sexually?"

	"Sure, how else would we fool around? Paint dirty words on the
neighbor's barn? Roll the old farmer's house with toilet paper? Tie a bell
to the cow's tail?"

	"All right then...sexually!"

	"Well, since you're asking...we DID fool around in the bedroom last
night."

	"In that case, Ronnie, that prompts me to ask a serious question?"

	"Like...?"

	"Do you know about 'safe sex'?"

	"Sure I do! Do you, Trent?"

	"...uh...actually, no...I did find out about a chastity belt when we had to read
'The Canterbury Tales'  in school. Is that safe sex""

	"No, dummy, that means NO sex! Oh, there's SO much I've got to teach you before I go back to New York!"

	"Then how about teaching me in private, Ronnie? It's getting pretty
embarrassing talking this way in front of Uncle Dean and Uncle Cyrus..."
Trent replied.

	"Come on upstairs, and I'll tell you ALL about safe sex...but don't
worry, Uncle Dean. We've done nothing that's 'unsafe'."

	"That's a load off both Cyrus' and my minds."

	Ronnie grabbed Trent's hand and all but dragged him up the stairs
as Dean stood looking aghast. Cyrus had a big smile on his face.

	When the boys had gone, Dean said..."See? What did I tell you?"

	"Oh, Dean, Dean, you're getting to be worse than an old woman in
your old age. Let the boys go at it if they want."

	"Somehow I don't think there's a thing either of us could say to
stop them."

	"Why don't you go into the library and see if you can find a
hymnal. If we're going to church, I want to sing bass...good and loud!"


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	The song leader was in full voice as he stood at the pulpit and
said, "NOW, LET'S ALL TURN IN OUR HYMNALS TO NUMBER THREE-FORTY-TWO!".

	The congregation flipped the pages quickly while the church
pianist, Abigail Cratchett, played an eight bar intro. Bob raised his hand
to begin conducting as the choir and the church crowd began to sing loudly
and joyfully.

	"SHALL WE GATHER AT THE RIVER...THE BEAUTIFUL, THE BEAUTIFUL RI-I--VER? GATHER WITH THE SAINTS AT THE RI---VER THAT FLOWS BY THE THRONE OF GOD!"

	Cyrus, who was seated on the sixth pew with Dean, Granny Dee,
Trent, and Ronnie got into the spirit of the music and was singing bass
louder than anyone in the church. Trent nudged Ronnie in the ribs to take
notice of Cyrus and both boys began to giggle. Dean, needless to say, was
red in the face with embarrassment. Granny Dee smiled warmly, thinking
Cyrus was feeling the Holy Ghost. In fact, she shouted, 'Hallelujah' twice.

	Heads were turning all over the church in order to see who was
singing so loudly. Some snickering as others frowned with an
'Humph'...thinking that that old queer was making fun of their music.

	Cyrus chuckled to himself when it occurred to him that he and Dean had managed to get sixth row aisle seats without making a reservation. But as Cyrus expected, with him and Dean in the congregation, thepreacher had either
planned or suddenly changed his sermon and began to read from Leviticus
when it was time for him to deliver the Sunday message. Cyrus began to squirm
and felt uneasy as he felt sure that the preacher was talking straight
to him and Dean. Actually, everyone in the church knew exactly who the
sermon was being directed at...and they swelled with self-satisfied pride
that their preacher, Brother Jonathan, was doing his earthly best to save
Cyrus' and Dean's heavenly souls from eternal hell and damnation.

	Dee, who'd been smiling warmly since hearing how much her
guests had tried to be a part of all this, felt her radiant smile slowly
fade until it had turned into a rather stern look. Here she had invited her
two new neighbors to church to expose them to her religion and to 'her
God', one that was loving and forgiving, one more than likely new to Cyrus
and Dean...and now, instead of warming them with the love of God, Brother
Jonathan was going to bring down the Almighty's wrath and vengeance on them
because of 'their' sin. Dee knew that no one else in the congregation was
gay. The sermon was definitely being directed to the two men sitting beside
her.

	Ronnie looked at his two uncles and realized how uncomfortable they
were getting as the preacher continued pounding his lectern with his fist
to make several points about the abomination in certain people's
lives. Ronnie wasn't embarrassed at all; instead, he was getting angrier by
the minute. His first instinct was to stand up and shout at Brother
Jonathan to tell him how wrong he was about gay people. He would be going
back to New York in less than two weeks so he would probably never have to
see any of these hypocrites OR Brother Jonathan again. Ronnie had
introduced Trent to gay sex just a couple of nights ago and now this
preacher from hell was trying to convince Trent what a sinner he had
become.

	Without looking at Trent, his uncles, or Trent's Granny Dee, Ronnie
suddenly stood up on the pew and began to wail..."OH! OH!
OH!....OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH! I FEEL IT! I FEEL IT! I FEEL IT COMING!"

	All eyes turned from Brother Jonathan and looked at Ronnie. Even
Brother Jonathan stopped preaching and stood looking at Ronnie with
awe. Ronnie continued..."OOOOOOOHHHHHH!"

	Brother Jonathan stepped off the preacher's rostrum and walked
quickly to Ronnie's side.

	"WHAT IS IT, SON? WHAT ARE YOU FEELING?" Ronnie just kept
wailing. Grabbing Ronnie's arm, Brother Jonathan hollered, "IT'S THE HOLY
GHOST, ISN'T IT, SON? HE'S SPEAKING TO YOU NOW!"

	Women in the congregation began to cry. They lifted their hands up
toward the ceiling. Men and women started speaking in tongues. "Obla la la
trarump ti oh rigama lo di dah!" Others were shouting, "JESUS! JESUS!
JESUS!". Everyone was moved by Ronnie's display of faith. Trent couldn't
make heads nor tails of Ronnie's actions. Granny Dee was praying
loudly. Cyrus and Dean's jaws were dropped as far as they would go. They
didn't know what to say or do. All this was so unexpected.

	Brother Jonathan continued his query to Ronnie. "WHAT DO YOU FEEL,
SON? TELL US! GOD IS SPEAKING TO YOU, SON. TELL US ALL WHAT HE'S SAYING TO
YOU!"

	Ronnie kept saying, "I FEEL IT! I FEEL IT! I FEEL IT!"

	"WHAT SON? WHAT DO YOU FEEL?"

	Ronnie stopped long enough to look Brother Jonathan straight in the
eyes.

	"I...I feel a big old fart about to pop out of my ass! Must've been
those confounded collard greens I ate for breakfast!"

	There was dead silence all over the church. No one could say a
word. No one knew what to say. Trent exploded with laughter and spit all
over the backs of the three people sitting in the pew in front of him.

	"I...I...I..." was all Brother Jonathan could say.

	Ronnie said rather loudly, "You'd better get out or my way, Parson,
I have to go REALLY bad!" At this point Ronnie ran down the aisle and out
the front door of the church. Trent followed immediately. Once they were
both outside, the two boys began to laugh hysterically.

	"Why on earth did you do that, Ronnie?" Trent asked, during bursts
of laughter.

	"It was all I could think to do to help Uncle Cyrus and Uncle Dean
out. That preacher was making them miserable and I had to stop him
somehow!"

	"Boy, you sure did! I...I don't think I can ever face any of them
again."

	"Don't worry! You didn't do it. I DID!"

	Ronnie looked up to see Cyrus and Dean standing beside him. Dean
grabbed Ronnie by the ear and pulled him toward the car. "LET'S GO...AND I
MEAN NOW!".

	Ronnie looked at Trent, "Are you coming?"

	"Uh, no. I'd better stay and see that Granny Dee gets home all
right."

	"I don't suppose we're still invited for Sunday dinner?" Ronnie
asked.

	"Somehow I doubt it...but I'll call you just the same." Trent was
still having trouble keeping a straight face.

	Cyrus had already started the car. Dean put Ronnie in the back seat
and off the three of them sped. When they were about half a mile down the
road from the church, Cyrus pulled the car over to the side of the
road. Ronnie held his breath, not knowing what Cyrus was going to say or do
to him. Cyrus slowly turned around to look at Ronnie in the back
seat. Ronnie was looking sheepish and a bit frightened. Then Cyrus began to
laugh loudly.

	"That was the funniest goddamned thing I ever saw in my life! Hell,
if I had seen that twenty years ago, I would have put the entire scene in
one of our shows!"

	"You're not mad, Uncle Cyrus?"

	"Mad? Hell, NO! You just saved my soul from hellfire! If I could
reach you, I'd give you a big hug."

	Ronnie then looked at Dean to get his reaction. "Are you mad, Uncle
Dean?"

	"I was...but after what Cyrus just said, how the heck could I
chastise you for giving Cyrus the best laugh he's had in years?"

	"Just one thing, Ronnie..." Cyrus said.

	"What's that, Uncle Cyrus?"

	"You don't really feel a fart coming out of your rectum, do you? I
mean, I don't want you to soil the upholstery in the back seat."

	"No. I went to the bathroom before we left the house."

	"All right. I was just checking!" Cyrus began to laugh heartily
again as he drove toward their house. "What in the consarnit hell made you think of
collard greens for breakfast?"

              	Ronnie smiled, "That's one thing everyone could sympathize about with me.  Trent told me that if Granny Dee served collard greens for lunch, not to eat any or he wouldn't sleep in the same bed with me tonight!"

	"Uh oh," Dean said. "After your antic, I doubt if Granny Dee will let Trent spend the night with you tonight or any other night!"


<><><><><><><><><><><><><>


	The phone was ringing as Dean opened the door.

	"Uh oh! Should I answer that?" Dean asked. "It's probably the mayor
of Weston saying a petition has been formed to run us out of town!"

	"Do you know if Weston has a Ku Klux Klan chapter? No doubt we'll
have a cross burned in our yard come midnight!" Cyrus replied.

	"Wait! I'll answer it!" Ronnie offered.

	"I don't think you'd better. The townsfolk of Weston have heard
enough of your voice for one day, young man!" Dean replied. "Ah hell, I'll
answer it!". Dean went to the phone. He couldn't believe that his hand was
shaking as he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

	"Dean?" the female voice asked.

	"Yes?"

	"This is Dee."

	Dean felt weak in the knees. "Oh..."

	"Where are you folks?"

	"Well, since you called us at home, I guess that's where we are..."

	"Don't get smart with me. I'm calling to see why you aren't over
here at my house for Sunday dinner?"

	"I...I didn't think you'd still want us after that spectacle at the
church."

	"Lands sake! If I could've...I'd've given that nephew of yours a
hug."

	"What?"

	"I knew Brother Jonathan was picking on you and my blood was
curdling. I was actually mortified! I kept sitting there wondering what I
could do to stop him...then Ronnie started his conniption fit!"

	"You...you aren't mad?"

	"Heavens to Betsy, NO! BUT! I'm gonna be if you waste all this food
I cooked for dinner!"

	"You still want the three of us to come over?"

	"As fast as you can. I've already put the cornbread in the oven and
it'll be ready in about twenty minutes. That'll give the three of you time
to change your clothes and get the heck over here to my house!"

	"How's Trent?"

	"I'm ready to beat the tar out of him if he don't stop laughin'! He
hasn't stopped for a minute since we left the church."

	"I'm having the same problem with Cyrus!"

	"Well, bring him over here and I'll stuff an ear of boiled corn in
his mouth and see it that'll stop him!"

	"Good idea, Dee. We'll see you shortly!"

	"What's wrong with Dee?" Cyrus asked. "Did Ronnie cause her to have
a stroke?"

	"Just the opposite..."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Go change clothes. We're going to Dee's for Sunday dinner."

	"You're kidding!"
  .
	"Nope. Boy, when they say that the good Lord moves in mysterious
ways, no one said just HOW mysterious!"


<><><><><><><><><><><><><>


	"More cherry cobbler, Cyrus?" Dee asked.

	"Oh, Lordy, Lordy, I'm stuffed to the gills, Dee." Cyrus replied.

	"Horse feathers! Trent's finished cranking the ice cream and just
in time for a nice big dollop on a second helping of cobbler! How about
you, Dean?"

	"Well, I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings after all the trouble
you and Trent went to, making that home-made vanilla ice cream, so..."

	"That's the Tennessee spirit! I knew it wouldn't take much to get
rid of some of that damnyankee politeness...always refusing somethin' good
when it's offered to you! Ronnie, boy, you're gonna have some more cobbler
with ice cream, aren't you?"

	"I wouldn't DREAM of refusing it after seeing Trent working up a
sweat on that ice cream freezer."

	"Now that's what I like to hear!" Dee said.

	"Granny Dee? Can I say something?" Ronnie said, raising his head,
looking at her with a somber expression.

	"Sure, Ronnie. What is it?"

	"Well, my dad in New York is a stage manager. Some day he'll be a
big director, I know.  Occasionally, he directs plays and musicals in the
surrounding areas of Broadway. One rule he stresses toward all his actors
is...'Less is more'."

	"What are you getting at?" Dee asked.

	"What my dad actually means is...sometimes it's not necessary to
say a line if the actor is able to project the meaning with an action or a
facial expression. In other words, the less said, the more or the better it
is! I guess what I'm trying to say is...since my two uncles and I arrived
for Sunday dinner, nothing has been said about my strange behavior at
church this morning.".

	"I think your daddy might be right, Ronnie Boy! Sometimes 'less IS
more...more better!. There's really nothing I have to say about what you
did. If you think I'm gonna lay into you or chastise you for the way you
behaved, Then you'd better think another thought!" Dee replied.

	"Then you're not angry?"

	"I didn't say that...but neither did I say who I was angry at..."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Ronnie, I'm an old-time country woman who was raised by folks who
taught me to always side with the underdog...or with one who was at a
disadvantage. I'm not one to pass judgment-- that's up to the good Lord,
but what Brother Jonathan did to your two uncles this morning was wrong. He
purposely put THEM at a disadvantage by criticizing them in front of
everyone without Dean and Cyrus getting a chance to defend themselves."

	"Oh, Dee, what he said was all right, considering..." Cyrus broke
in to interrupt.

	"Cyrus, let me finish before you put in your two cents' worth. I
promise you I will give you a chance to speak your mind once I'm
through..."

	"Sorry," Cyrus replied.

	Dee turned around to look at her grandson. "Trent, put the lid back
on that ice cream. It'll keep until I say what I have to say. Come over and
sit down by Ronnie over here." Trent did as he was told, putting the top
back on the metal canister and returning back to the table where he took
his chair next to Ronnie, across from Dean and Cyrus, Dee was still
standing at the head.

	"Trent, this may not be the right time, the right way, or the right
place to tell you what I'm about to say...maybe the moment's right...but
maybe I should be telling you this in private and not in front of your new
friends...but it affects them indirectly."

	"What is it, Granny Dee?" Trent looked concerned and somewhat
worried.

	"I'm no fool. I don't spend every day of my life on this old
homestead. I'm fully aware of what goes on in Weston...and about what's
said. I know that since Cyrus and Dean moved in down the road, there's been
all kinds of talk and gossip about the two old queers...if you'll pardon
the expression. I've also kept a watch on both of you, Dean, Cyrus. I'm
positive that you keep your sexuality to yourselves. You don't flaunt it or
attack little boys or lure them into your lair with candy. I'm also aware
of how difficult it must be for you to move into a red-neck town and try to
live normal lives around a bunch of mean old hens and gossip-mongers. Heck, I
know for a fact that half the men at church make their own corn liquor while the
other half buys moonshine from the Stuben brothers. In the eyes of God, we're
all sinners. BUT, having seen you in your home and having seen the way you've
treated Trent over the past few days...don't ask me how I know, but I'm fully
aware of you, Dean, saving Trent from Farley Adams at Vernon's Pond. I
appreciate that and know that you could have suffered some kind of gossip or
consequence for defending him."

	Granny Dee paused from her recitation, long enough to drink a big
swig of her iced tea. Then she continued. "Trent, Cyrus, Dean, Ronnie, I
don't mean to shock any of you...especially, you, Trent, but I'm no
stranger to gay life or homosexuality..." Trent got a puzzled look on his
face...more so than the other three men at the table. "Trent, please
forgive me for this moment...may the good Lord forgive me, as well...you
see, Trent, when your dad was just about your age, your Grandpa Willard
went out to the barn one day and caught your dad and another boy from down
the road, Tommy Snodgrass, laying there in the hay...both of 'em naked as
jaybirds, doing whatever gay boys do to one another. Your grandpa didn't
say a word to either of 'em, he just came back in the house with a mad look
on his face and told me to go outside and cut a branch off the old hickory
tree and give your dad a good lashing. I didn't know at the time what I was
whipping him for. I just knew that your grandpa had a good reason. Back in
those days, I, being a dutiful wife, did everything my husband told me to
do without questioning it. So I went out and cut me a good sized hickory
and told your dad to come out of the barn and take his punishment. I didn't
know that Tommy was still inside the barn hiding. Your dad came out and
bent over an old stump in the backyard and I give him fifteen or twenty
good licks while your grandpa watched from the kitchen window. Your dad
didn't cry for about the first eight or ten hits. then the dam broke and he
all but cried his eyes out. I'd whipped your dad before, but I never saw
him cry this way. I didn't think I whacked him harder than usual. Then I
came back inside the house. Dinner was quiet that evening. Hardly a word
was spoken at the dinner table. Then when your grandpa went upstairs to go
to sleep, I went into your dad's bedroom with a tin of Watkin's Salve to
put on the marks the hickory'd left on the back of his legs and bottom. As
soon as I touched him, he started to cry again, only he sat up and nestled
his head in my bosom. He puts his arms around me and I didn't know what to
think".
	Once again, Dee stopped to drink more tea. Eight eyes were focused
on her intensely, "Excuse me, but I swan, my throat is so dry I could spit
cotton. Well, I was sure that there was something hurting your dad more
than the whipping I had given him. I remember I put my hand on the back of
his head and began stroking his hair and I asked him gently, What is it,
son?'. Through his muffled tears, your dad said. 'I've been bad, Ma. Really
bad...and I don't know if I can change.'. I had NO idea what he had done,
but I decided to wait and let him tell me at his own pace just what he had
done.. He couldn't look me in the eye, but he said, 'Ma...I think I'm a
queer and I think I'm in love with Tommy.' I didn't know what to say back
to him...nor how to respond, I just knew that he was hurting...hurting bad
and not from the hickory stripes. At the same time I was sure that Willard
had caught your dad in the barn with Tommy."

	Trent was more than shocked. "Granny Dee, are you telling me that
my dad was gay?"

	"He thought he was. I'd never known a gay person so I wasn't sure
if he knew what he was saying. The only thing I knew for sure was that he
definitely had strong feelings for Tommy Snodgrass...the kind of feelings a
boy is supposed to have for a girl.  I suddenly felt guilty as all get-out for punishing
him for being in love."

	"Granny Dee! Why have you never told me this before?" Trent was on
the brink of tears.

	"Because Cyrus, Dean, AND Ronnie only came into your life this past
week. I doubt, as I did with your dad, that you'd ever even thought about
gays or homosexuals seriously before. Then when Brother Jonathan lambasted
them that way this morning in church, I thought it was time to set a few
things straight. Forgive me, Ronnie, I'm not insinuating that you're gay,
but the way that you and Trent look at one another...I've seen that look
when Trent's dad looked at Tommy. If you are gay, there's a chance the
subject has come up between you and Trent after Trent spending two nights
with you. I know that boys talk about boy-things...sex being one of 'em."

	"You're a very wise and observant woman, Dee," Dean said.

	"I saw my son's heart broken when he couldn't have the person he
loved most in life."

	"But, Granny Dee, Dad married my mom. Didn't he love her?"

	"Trent, I'm sure he did AFTER they were married, but your dad
didn't pick your mom to be his bride. Your grandpa picked her. Don't worry,
it wasn't a shotgun wedding where you were conceived out of wedlock, but it
was almost like one of them Chinese weddings where two fathers get together
and arrange the marriage of their children. Your grandpa gave your Grandpa
Willis a hundred acres of land for your mother's hand in marriage. Me?
Well, it wasn't MY place to say a word. It's was all your Grandpa Willard's
doin'."

	Trent was doing his best to be brave and hold back the
tears. Ronnie sensed Trent's emotional trauma and put his hand over Trent's
on top of the table and squeezed it.

	"Trent, son, I don't know how you feel about Ronnie here and it's
not now or ever any of my business, but if it's NOT Ronnie and some other
boy comes into your life, I'll do nothing to stop you. I'll fight heaven
and earth to see you happy...the way your dad should have been."

	DEAD SILENCE...no one at the table could come to grips with the
emotional impact.

	Then Granny Dee herself broke the silence. "NOW, who wants some of
my home-made ice cream?"

	"Cyrus?" Dean asked.

	"ME? UH...I'd LOVE some, Dee!"

	"Me too, Dee!" Dean echoed.

	Dean and Cyrus got up from the table and went with Dee to the back
porch where they piled ice cream half-a-foot tall in their dishes. Then
they went outside to sit under the shade of Dee's tall oak tree. Trent was
still at the dinner table, looking stunned, trying to fathom everything his
grandmother had just said...letting some or all of it sink in.

	Ronnie patted Trent's hand. "Hey! Are you all right?" Ronnie asked
in a low voice.

	"I...I'm not sure. I mean it was a lot to hear at one time...and in
front of practical strangers."

	"Trent, Uncle Cyrus, Uncle Dean, and I...well, we're not really
strangers any more. We're more like your extended family. I mean, well, you
and I have shared secrets for two days which to me, makes us closer that
just strangers," Ronnie said.

	"I...I guess you're right. The only thing...well..."

	"The only thing, what?"

	"She just assumed that 'I' was gay when I don't even know myself if
I'm gay. Granted, what we did together for the past two nights was
fun...and it felt good and exciting, but, ah heck, it's like trying
anything new for the first time. I remember the first time I went on a
roller coaster at the County Fair. I rode it six times in a row, but that
didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life on a roller coaster. I
liked the Tilt-a-Whirl and Bottom Drop just as much."

	"No one's saying you have to be gay, but if and when you ever think
you might be...at least you'll have some idea of what it's like," Ronnie
explained.

	"I...I can't stop thinking about my dad. He was gay and wanted to
BE gay but wasn't allowed to be..."

	"I think all your Granny Dee was saying...is that if you ARE, she
won't object if that's the way you want to be."

	"That's puzzling as well. I've always knew she was kind and
understanding. I just didn't know HOW understanding she really is."

	"Thank goodness you have her!"

	"Come on, let's get some ice cream and join everyone else in the
backyard before they start wondering what we're doing in here alone."

	"Are you still planning to spend the night with me again tonight?"

	"Sure...now that I have Granny Dee's permission to do things with
you. I won't feel so guilty."

	"Trent, I'm just worried what you'll do and with whom you'll do it
after I go home week after next..."

	"Well, after you leave, I'll have my choice of Farley or some poor
girl who wants to go out with a 'maybe' gay boy. Some choice, huh?"

	"Maybe you can go down to Uncle Dean's and use his computer and we
can talk on the Internet."

	"That's an idea. Of course, you could stay here and go to school in
Weston."

	"You KNOW I can't. What's that look on your face?"

	"I was just wondering how big Farley's dick is?"

	"Would you shut the heck up? Don't make me jealous over some
asshole."

	"You'd be jealous if I became interested in Farley?"

	"Damned right I would. Maybe I should kick him in the balls again
before I leave and put his equipment out of commission until I come back
here next summer!"

	"You're coming back?" His smile of hope demonstrated how much
that'd mean to him.

	"If I know you're waiting for me..."

	"I will be, Ronnie. I promise."

	"Can I kiss you once before we go outside?"

	"Please do."

	Ronnie took Trent into his arms and planted the most passionate
kiss he'd ever given ANYONE. Their mouths were wide open as their saliva
intermingled. Arms were gliding up and down the other's back. Both were
aware of their raging erections and pushed their pelvises together to grind
into each other's.

	Ronnie pulled back for a moment to catch his breath and as he
exhaled, he said, "God, Trent, I could fall in love with you so easily. The
way I feel about you, well, I've never felt for anyone before. Oh, if you
could only come to live with me in New York, my life there would be
complete."

	"Ronnie, you know there's no way that I can go with you."

	"There HAS to be a way, Trent. There just HAS to be!".

	Ronnie kissed Trent again. Then they headed out for cobbler and ice
cream.

<><><><><><><><><><>
	Later that night when Dean had turned off the light to lie down beside Cyrus, Dean sighed, "Cyrus, do you ever miss New York?"

	Cyrus lay thinking for half a minute before saying, "Hmm mmh..."

                  Dean sighed again, "...me, too...".

<><><><><><><><><><>

(To be continued in chapter five of "Echoes From A Wishing Well").

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