Date: Sun, 5 Feb 2006 02:15:01 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: the-passion-of-matthew-7

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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                             "THE PASSION OF MATTHEW"
                              Copyright Ritchris 2005

                                   A story by

                                Ritch Christopher

                             Literary enhancement by

                                   Les Martin

                                   * * * * *

                                  Chapter Seven


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

	The early morning sun in his eyes woke Hank the following morning.
As he oriented himself, preparing for the day to come, he remembered the
night just past. After he completed a hurried clean-up, Hank went to join
everyone for breakfast.  Striding into the kitchen, he was greeted by all
the hands.  His eyes noticed an empty chair; all were present except for
Matt. He was suddenly aware that he hadn't bothered to check on Matt, he'd
just assumed that Matt would be at the table with the others. To ease his
mind, Hank decided he'd better check on him, just in case. In case of what?
Matt's having attempted suicide? Matt being in a deeper depression? Or
Matt's glee over the prank he had pulled on Hank? It could be any number of
reasons, but since Hank was being paid to watch over Matt, he felt it was
necessary that he see if anything was wrong.

	As Hank turned from the table to head toward Matt's room, Mike
stopped him. "In case you're going down to see about Matt, Hank, I checked
on him a few minutes ago. He's fine, but he's tired from lack of sleep. He
said to apologize to everyone but he'd rather rest than eat," Mike
explained.

	"Oh. Thanks, Mike."

	"Did he give you a lot of trouble before you calmed him down?"

	"Some, but I guess his nightmares were too vivid for him to just
relax immediately. I stayed with him until I thought he was OK and then I
went back to bed," Hank lied. In no way would he talk about what had really
happened, although he did give a glance toward Bob and John to watch their
reactions.

	"I think I'll talk to Matt's doctors and see if he will increase
the dosage of Matt's amitriptyline. That's supposed to help him sleep."

	"Amitriptyline? Is that those large pink pills?"

	"NO! That's a stimulant to give him energy! Don't tell me he asked
you to get him one!"

	"I'm afraid so, Mike. But I thought it was some kind of
tranquilizer."

	"What the hell was Matt thinking?" Mike asked, quite
concerned. "Matt knows what every medication he's taking does for him. Why
in God's name would he want a stimulant?"

	"I have no idea, Mike. Since I didn't know one of his medications
from the other, I gave him what he asked for."

	"No wonder he didn't get much sleep! I'll talk to him before we all
go to work and see what's up with him."

	"I suppose you didn't get much sleep either, did you, Hank?" Bob
asked.

	"Well, I got enough. When I'm home, I can get by on just three or
four hours of sleep nightly."

	"God! To be young again...!" Bob replied.

	"You're not old, Bob," Hank asked.

	"I'll be thirty-five next month," Bob said.

	"That's exactly one-half of the three score and ten that you were
promised in the Bible," John retorted. "Then you're only halfway over the
hill!"

	"Will you shut the fuck up and eat your biscuits?" Bob joked back
at John's remark.

	"Did you forget I'm only thirty-three, so I have at least
twenty-four more months to stay young!," John replied, laughing.

	"You're just barely ten years older then I am, John." Hank said.

	"But he looks twenty-five years older than you, Hank!" Bob
quipped. "That's what marriage and having a child does to you!"

	"If I look twenty-five years older than Hank, then you look like
you're seventy-five years old!" John added.

	"Hey, let's watch that! I'm closer to seventy-five than either of
you guys will ever get!" Art interjected.

	"How old ARE you, Art?" John asked.

	"Sixty-four...just like the way Lennon and McCartney wrote about."
Art began to sing, "When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now,
will you still be sending me a Valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of
wine? If I'd been out 'till quarter to three, would you lock the door?"

	Everyone at the table, except for Hank, joined in for the final
lyric, "Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm
sixty-four?"

	They all laughed aloud and applauded themselves. Soon thereafter,
Mike, Art, John, Bob, and Jim all left for the pipeline site to begin the
days' work, leaving Hank behind with Matt. Since Mike had assured Hank that
Matt was all right, Hank chose to ignore or at least keep his distance from
Matt while he washed the breakfast dishes, skillets, and pans.

	After all the breakfast things were clean and put away, it was nine
o'clock. Hank heard the sound of 'LIVE WITH REGIS AND KELLY' coming from
the TV in Matt's bedroom.  Hank was again reassured that Matt was OK,
having begun watching his morning TV shows. Hank was still pissed at being
the brunt of Matt's petty stunt in the bedroom. Normally when Hank heard
the sound of Matt's TV, he would go into Matt's room and to ask what he
wanted for breakfast. But this morning, instead of going to Matt's room,
Hank went outside on the porch and sat down on the wooden steps to
think. The morning sun should have cleared his mind, but instead, it seemed
to blind his perceptions.

	Hank tried to replay last night's conversation with Lance in his
mind. He also began to think back of the various Wednesdays when the two of
them had met for their weekly rendezvous. Had Lance ever uttered the simple
phrase, "I love you"? He suddenly became aware of saying those words to
Lance time and time again, but Hank could not recall a single time that
Lance had echoed the phrase. Did Hank and Lance have a relationship at all
beyond sex? Or would Lance ever leave Lois and ask Lance to live with him
as lovers? Or was Hank a mere boy-toy for Lance's casual sexual
convenience?

	Hank was befuddled. On one hand he had a so-called lover who had
never declared his love for Hank, but on the other hand, there was Matt who
had expressed a deep love for Hank, a love Hank was unable to return. Was
it because Hank's physical deformity turned Hank off? Hank knew that if he
and Matt ever DID became a 'couple', the two of them would never go out to
a movie, to dinner, they would never take a trip together because Matt
would never allow himself to be seen in public. Or was it that HANK WOULD
BE ASHAMED? Ashamed for everyone to look at Matt and see the physical
horror that Hank had chosen to be his mate?

	Dear God in heaven! What would Martin Lazarus say or do if Hank
were to bring Matt home with him to say, 'Hey, Dad, I'm gay and this is my
lover, Matt!'?  Either Hank's dad would drop dead from heart failure or he
would kill Hank out of sheer disgust and embarrassment. Hank was in a
pickle, putting it mildly, and he had eleven weeks to go before returning
home with or without the promise of Lance becoming his
partner...DEFINITELY, he'd be returning home WITHOUT Matt.

	The longer Hank sat on the porch thinking, the more unsure he
became of his real situation. Suddenly, he looked at his hands and both
were trembling. Hank had never had need of tranquilizers even after his
mother died, which left Hank depressed. But today, what he wouldn't give
for a double dose of Prozac or Paxil! Hank was on the verge of cracking up,
not Matt! Because now, Hank was convinced that most of Matt's problems were
fake or self-induced, just to get attention.

	The one saving grace for Hank was that he remembered that Mike and
he had said that staying home with Matt was for a two week trial period and
if it wasn't working out, Hank could take the surveyor's position for which
he was originally hired. Damn! Could Hank take twelve more days of being
around Matt? If Matt made another overture toward Hank, Hank was afraid he
might even hit Matt. Mike would fire Hank for sure and send him home
packing to his dad.

	It was lucky for Hank that his name wasn't Clark Kent with x-ray
vision because if he could see across the miles into Lance's office, he
would discover the door to Lance's office was locked and Lance was on his
knees while a young, handsome, UPS delivery guy was sitting on the side of
Lance's desk gazing down at Lance sucking his penis. Only after the
delivery guy reached his climax, Lance ask his name. The young man replied,
"Tony" and Lance asked if Tony could arrange to deliver a parcel to him in
his office every Friday morning, even if it meant Lance would send the
parcel to himself. Tony told Lance that that could easily be arranged and
left. Lance was filling his weekly calendar very nicely...Hank on
Wednesday's, Marcel on Thursdays, and now Tony every Friday morning. Yes,
life was good for Lance... or so he thought!


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

	Matt stayed in his room all morning, missing breakfast AND
lunch. Hank still hadn't gone into Matt's room to see about him, but at one
in the afternoon, Hank broke down, cooled down his 'mad', and knocked
lightly on Matt's door.

	"Yeah?" Matt yelled out.

	"It's me, Hank."

	"I know who it is!"

	"Can I come in?"

	"What for?"

	"Just to see if you're all right."

	"Take my word for it! I'm fine."

	Matt's harsh verbal tone didn't stop Hank from opening the
door. Matt was lying in bed, fully-dressed, watching some court TV show.

	"Are you OK?" Hank asked.

	"Didn't I just say so? Couldn't you take my word without barging
in, uninvited?"

	"I suppose I could've, but..."

	"But you thought you find me, blood running from my good wrist, or
passed out by overdosing on my sleeping pills. Is that what you expected?"

	"Very frankly, I didn't know, Matt. I had to see for myself." He
fought to retain his calm. "I can see that you're angry."

	"Oh, really? WHATEVER gave you such an idea?"

	"The tone of your voice for one thing..."

	"Why should I be angry?"

	"I'm not sure. To be honest, I'm' the one who should be angry, not
you!"

	"Why the fuck should YOU be angry?"

	"Over that little stunt you pulled this morning, faking a bad dream
just to get me in bed with you."

	"Would you have lain down with me if I hadn't tricked you?"

	"Quite possibly."

	"Look, Hank, you don't have to be nice to me and I'd prefer it if
you didn't lie to me."

	"When have I lied to you?"

	"Filling my head with ideas about inner beauty instead of scarred
burned skin!"

	"I didn't lie. You DO have an inner beauty. You're just afraid to
show it."

	"Bullshit!"

	"Matt, I have to know something and don't YOU lie to ME."

	"What?"

	"You said that Bob and John had both helped you 'get off' from time
to time. Was that true?"

	"Hell, no! They wouldn't touch me anymore than you would."

	"Then why did you say it, Matt?"

	"I...I thought if you believed THEY had done it, you wouldn't see
anything wrong with YOUR doing it to me."

	"I'm glad you told me the truth because I was going to ask them
about it when I got the chance...or at least when Mike wasn't around."

	"NO! They haven't touched me. NO ONE has touched me since I got
burned."

	"I'm sorry. You must be even lonelier than I imagined."

	"You know what a big movie buff I am."

	"Sure."

	"There are two movie characters that remind me of myself...John
Merrick, the Elephant Man....and Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame."

	"I'm familiar with both of them."

	"Maureen O'Hara didn't love Charles Laughton. She felt sorry for
him for the way he looked. John Hurt in 'The Elephant Man' was a freak and
they put him into a side show with a carnival barker asking people to pay
money just to see him. HA! When most little kids get mad at their mothers,
they say they're gonna run off and join the circus. Sometimes that's what I
feel like doing...just running off and joining the circus to be the main
attraction. 'COME SEE THE FREAK FOR ONLY TWENTY-FIVE CENTS!'."

	"Matt, for the umpteenth time, you are not a freak! Inside, you're
the same Matthew Sawyer that you were the day you were born."

	"Good! So why don't you call one of the VA hospitals and see if
they can operate on me and turn me wrong side out like a pair of old blue
jeans?"

	"If that were possible, I think a lot of us might like to have the
same operation."

	"Horseshit! As handsome as you are, why in hell would YOU want to
be turned inside out?"

	"Sometimes I wish I weren't gay. I didn't choose to be gay. It's
just that BEING gay with a dad like mine, my life has been almost as
miserable as yours...only I've been this way for twenty-one, almost
twenty-two years. You've only been the way you are for about three years."

	"Would you trade places with me, Hank?"

	"In many ways, yes, I would."

	"Why?"

	"People like your uncle accept you as you are and your uncle still
loves you. If my dad knew that I was gay, he'd hate me forever. I think he
hates me anyway."

	"Why do you think that?"

	"Matt, I've never known what it feels like to be loved since my
mother died. My dad doesn't love me. He just tolerates me--he has to
because I'm his son. If you weren't so damned bullheaded and blind, you'd
see that Mike, Art, John, and Bob, they ALL love you. I don't know about
Jim. I haven't really talked with him too much. But my point IS...there are
four people who love YOU dearly and I don't have anybody."

	"What about your almighty lover, Lance?"

	"I think Lance loves me---but he's never once said it."

	"But you love him...?"

	"With all my heart, but I can't even FORCE those words out of
him. So, sheer good looks by themselves won't get you loved."

	"I...I said I thought I could love you, but you rejected my love."

	"That's because I'll be leaving here in approximately eleven
weeks. I'm going to college. Why, for the love of God, should you and I
enter into a relationship when we know it's got to be short-lived?"

	"Oh, I've thought all about that! Can you see taking me to a frat
prom as your date? I mean, wouldn't you just be bursting with pride to
introduce me to your fraternity brothers as your gay lover or mate? GOD!
Don't you think that would be hilarious?"

	"Not particularly, but it would create a couple of problems for
both of us."

	"A COUPLE! How about a couple of thousands?"

	"Matt, look! Your Uncle Mike and I agreed on a two week trial
period to see how it would work out between us if I stayed here every day
to be your companion. I could easily tell Mike that it's not going so good
and he can make other arrangements, get someone else to be with you during
the day while he's at work."

	"Why does Uncle Mike think I need a fucking babysitter?"

	"Probably from your track record of attempting suicide."

	"Shit! No one can watch me twenty-four hours a day and if I get
ready to kill myself, you or no one else can stop me."

	"Do you remember or have you ever seen Jack Nicholson in 'One Flew
Over The Cuckoo's Nest?"

	"About a dozen times."

	"What do you think it would be like if Mike hired a 'Nurse Ratched'
to stay with you?"

	"A WOMAN?"

	"A big ballsy-assed bull dike!"

	"Then I WOULD kill myself!"

	"I doubt it. A mental health nurse is trained to keep a patient
from harming himself or others. She'd be more qualified to look after you
than I am."

	"OK! So what if I decide to behave myself?"

	"You'd have to prove that to me first."

	"How?"

	"Stop lying! Stop faking attacks! But most of all, stop making
sexual innuendos toward me!"

	"Hank, I can't help the way I feel about you."  For the first time
in their conversation, Hank seemed to have obtained the upper hand. "Then
keep your thoughts to yourself and don't mention being in love with me. I
can't handle that, Matt. It's unfair to me and it's unfair to Lance."

	"Why is it unfair to Lance when I've never even seen or met him?
Besides, you don't even know if Lance actually loves you!"

	"The main thing is that I LOVE LANCE. I like you. I like you a lot!
But I don't LOVE you. It puts a strain on me being around you knowing how
you feel about me and knowing that I can't, or won't, reciprocate!"

	"You use such big twenty-five dollar
words...reciprocate...innuendos...Are you trying to convince me that you're
not only better looking than me but you're ten times smarter?"
	"Sorry. I'll try to limit my vocabulary to four-letter words, which
you seem to understand better!"

	"Good! It's settled, I'm not only ugly but I'm dumb as well!"

	"Goddammit, Matt! Your constant banter is driving me crazy!"

	"Banter? What's that, a baby rooster?"

	"No, a baby rooster is a bantam and you damned well know it."

	"OK, so I was trying to make a joke!"

	"Ha! Ha!"

	"I get the feeling that you hate me, Hank."

	"No, I don't hate you. I just hate what you're doing to my
psyche...sorry, what you're doing to my brain or, to use a four-letter
word, my mind!"

	"All right, if you agree to stay with me every day, what should I
do to make it easier for you?"

	"I know this will be difficult or HARD for you, but I wish you
would forget I told you I was gay. Pretend I'm a fellow marine who's
straight and likes women."

	"That would be easier for me to do than you. How could you pretend
you like women when I know damned well you don't?"

	"Well, for one thing, we don't have to talk about sex...gay OR
straight. We can limit our conversation to movies, books, world events! For
that reason, I won't show you any more gay movies from my DVD collection."

	"WOW! I hope you brought 'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory'
and 'The Wizard of Oz'!"

	"As a matter of fact, I brought both of them with me."

	"Golly gee whee! What fun we can have! Can you serve tea and party
cakes with them?"

	"If you want tea and party cakes, I'll serve them, Matt. Matt! I've
GOT to make money for college whether by staying here with you or by
surveying in the field with Mike, but I need the money!"

	"I thought your dad was rich!"

	"Not rich, but comfortably wealthy."

	"And he won't pay for you college tuition?"

	"Nope!"

	"He must be a regular asshole!"

	"In some ways, he is, but he's still my father."

	"OK! I give up! I'll behave and let you earn your tuition. I
promise not to talk about sex and I won't give you suggestive looks to show
the way I feel about you."

	"Since you promised, I'll take you at your word, but I WILL hold
you to that promise."

	"I SAID, 'OK', DIDN'T I?"

	"Yes. Now would you like some lunch?"

	"I suppose."

	"And do you want to help me fix dinner for Mike and the guys?"

	"Yes, Sergeant Lazarus!"

	"Then get your ass out of bed and march into the kitchen...NOW,
Private Sawyer!"

	"YES, SIR!"

	Matt strapped on his prosthesis and followed Hank into the
kitchen. After he had a sandwich and a can of soup, he helped Hank prepare
stuffed pork chops, scalloped potatoes, and French green beans with a
lemon-butter sauce. Then Hank had Matt cap a bowl of fresh strawberries and
whipped some cream while Hank made some tart cups out of canned biscuit
dough. It seemed that even Matt was pleased with the way the dinner turned
out and couldn't wait for Mike, Art, Bob, John, and Jim to sample the
cuisine.

	The men all raved over the dinner and when Hank told them that Matt
did most of the work, they heaped praise and compliments on Matt. Matt
actually smiled with pride when everyone bragged on his afternoon's
endeavor.

	As time approached for Hank to receive his nightly phone call from
Lance, Hank excused himself from the table and walked out on the porch to
keep Matt from hearing the sound of the cell phone chiming.

	There was nothing new to the conversation between Hank and Lance,
just a rehash of the day's events and the call ended with Hank saying his
usual, 'I love you' to Lance and Lance, as usual, didn't respond in
kind. Lance DID confirm that he was coming to Philemon late Friday and
wanted Hank to meet him at the city limits around eight o'clock in the
evening.

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

	Matt kept his promise to Hank for the rest of the week. Hank
mentioned to Mike that a friend was coming to meet him Friday night and
asked if he could be excused from his duties with Matt for the
weekend. Mike was happy to give his approval and Hank began counting the
hours and minutes until he would be back in Lance's arms.

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

	Finally, Friday came and Hank and Matt fixed an early dinner and
left it in the oven to stay warm while Hank shaved, showered, and dressed
for his date with Lance. The city limits were about ten miles from Mike's
place and so Hank left around 7:15PM, just in case Lance arrived a bit
earlier than planned.

	The main road in Philemon was being repaired with tar and gravel,
but there were many holes which hadn't been completely filled and Hank hit
a few of them rather hard which caused his Jeep to bounce from time to
time. One hole hadn't been filled at all, and Hank's Jeep went nearly six
inches deep into the ground and caused Hank to bounce straight up out of
his seat. At the same time, Hank heard a verbal, 'UH!' coming from behind
the driver's seat. Quickly, he stopped and looked around only to discover
Matt crouched in the back seat floorboard with a blanket covering him.

	"MATT! WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

	Sheepishly, Matt uttered, "I knew where you were going and I had to
get a look at Lance."

	"GOD DAMN IT! I'm supposed to spend the weekend with Lance. Are you
planning to spend all that time lying in the floor back there?"

	"If necessary, YES, GODAMMIT."

	"FUCK! I'm taking you back home!"

	"No, please! Just let me out on the side of the road. You can call
Uncle Mike to come pick me up!"

	"I'LL DO NO SUCH THING! I'LL DRIVE YOU HOME MYSELF!"

	"Oh, Hank, PLEASE! I'm so sorry! I just couldn't bear the thought
of you having sex with Lance all weekend."

	"WHY? He's my lover!"

	"Because I love you so much, Hank! I've tried to stop but I just
can't. I mean if there was only the chance of holding you in my arms as
Lance will, I'd give my life to be in his place for just one moment."

	"SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! What am I gonna do? You broke your promise to
me!"

	"Yes, but the way I feel about you transcends ANY promise!"

	"Jesus! Where did you learn a word like 'transcends'?"

	"You might think I'm dumb, but I'm not...just like you might think
I don't love you, but I do!"

	Hank's Jeep had stopped about a hundred yards from the city limits
sign. He suddenly saw Lance's Lexus approaching and signaling by switching
his headlights on and off.

	"Oh, GOD! There's Lance."

	"Then let me out before he sees me."

	"Sorry, but I can't do that! Mike would never understand or forgive
me. He'd fire me and that would be the end of my tuition money."

	Matt took the blanket and pulled it over his head, trying to hide
as Lance car pulled up next to Hank's.

	"Hi, sweetheart!" Lance hailed, with a big smile.

	"Hi, Lance," Hank replied, almost glumly.

	"What's the matter? Aren't you glad to see me?"

	"Of course I am."

	"Hey, I found a motel about five miles from here. I've already
checked in. I brought a bottle of champagne and I asked the motel manager
to ice it for me while I came to get you."

	"Lance, I'm sorry, but something has come up and I might have to
delay following you to the motel?"

	"What, for crying out loud? What do you mean, 'something has come
up'?"

	"God damn it, Lance! You might as well know. Matt, the guy I'm
looking after, hid behind the back seat and he's hiding there now!"

	"What ever for?"

	Hank turned back around and looked at Matt.

	"Matt, take off that cover and sit up. I want you to meet Lance."

	Slowly Matt removed the blanket and sat up. It was dark and Lance
couldn't see Matt very well until a passing car drove by, its headlights
shining directly on Matt's face. Lance took one look at Matt and gasped,
"GOOD GOD! HANK, WATCH OUT! THAT FREAK'S GONNA ATTACK YOU!!"

	Hearing Lance's offensive outcry, Hank wanted to sink into the
floorboard of the front seat. When Matt heard Hank's sound of disgust, he
let out a cry so loud, it might have been heard all the way back to Mike's
house.

	Lance, realizing what he had done, was more than embarrassed and
tried to say, "I'm sorry" to give it real meaning, but Matt continued to
scream and holler as if he had been hit with a board filled with
nails. Hank couldn't move. He didn't know what to do or say as he clutched
the steering wheel so hard that the blood was leaving his fingers, turning
them white.

	Once again, Lance said, "I'm sorry," but this time to Hank.

	Hank closed his eyes, wishing he weren't there. He knew how
revolting Matt's appearance had been to Lance. Matt knew it too. Finally,
Hank crawled over the front seat to get to the back to comfort Matt and try
to calm him as much as possible. By now, Matt was flailing his arms and
couldn't catch his breath. Matt was gasping for air with very short pants
and Hank felt Matt could be in danger of dying!

	Then Hank screamed, "Lance, park your car on the side of the road
and lock it. Then get into my Jeep and head toward town to the hospital!"

	"Where is it?" Lance yelled.

	"How the hell do I know? Just drive! It's got to be close by
somewhere!"

	Lance parked his car, locked it as Hank suggested, and turned
Hank's Jeep around and drove nearly 70 miles an hour toward town. Nearly a
mile later, they had to stop for a traffic light and Lance jumped out of
the Jeep to ask the driver of the car in front of them for directions to
the hospital. Luckily, the hospital was only a few blocks away and Lance
sped as fast as he could to the emergency room.

	Once the Jeep was stopped, Lance got out and helped Hank carry
Matt's apparently lifeless body into the ER. Simon Carter, the intern who
had visited Matt at Mike's house was on duty. As soon as Simon saw Hank
carrying Matt in his arms, he got a gurney to lay Matt on and rolled him
into one of the examining rooms. Hank stayed at Matt's side, holding his
good hand the entire time as Simon worked on Matt, beginning by intubating
him to assist with Matt's breathing. In the light, Hank could see that
Matt's face had turned a grayish-blue color. Feeling helpless, Lance
remained outside in the anteroom.

	"How did this happen?" Simon asked Hank.

	"He just had one of his attacks. He was...rather, we were going for
a ride and he just starting gasping and crying out for help," Hank said,
stretching the truth.

	"My God, how he needs a lung transplant!" Simon said. "One would
think that the VA hospital would have given him one after he was injured in
Iraq."

	"Just how bad ARE Matt's lungs, Dr. Carter?"

	"They're both in terrible shape. The scarring from the flames he
inhaled left both his lungs like shoe leather. It's like he tries to
breathe through two pottery vases. They won't expand when he inhales or
retract when he exhales. They're like two permanent fixtures. I don't
suppose you've had time to call his uncle?"

	"No, as soon as he started gasping, I brought him here
straightaway. Do you think I should go call him?"

	"Yes, I think he should be here. I...I don't know if Matt will make
it through the night."

	Hank left the examining room to go to the ER admission's desk to
use the phone to call Mike. Lance rushed to Hank.

	"How is he?"

	"Bad, Lance. Really bad."

	"Dear God! Did I cause this?"

	"Don't blame yourself. What happened to Matt happened in Iraq. It
doesn't take much to exacerbate his condition."

	"DAMN! Why did I say what I did? I...I had no idea how horrible he
was to look at. I wasn't prepared for what I saw. I mean, when he reared up
in the back seat, it looked like you were about to be attacked by Freddy
Kreuger or some other monster."

	"I have to call Mike, his uncle."

	"Go ahead. Don't let me detain you, Hank."

	Hank made the call to Mike and Mike first thought Hank was
joking. Mike assumed Matt was in his room. He had no idea that Matt had
left in Hank's Jeep. Jim stayed at the house while Mike, Art, John, and Bob
hurried to the hospital.

	Lance walked over to meet Hank after Hank completed his phone call
to Mike.

	"Are his folks coming?" Lance asked.

	"His uncle and some of the guys that work on the site are. Matt has
no family except his uncle."

	"Hank, you know I didn't say what I did to cause him harm. I had no
idea he was hiding in the backseat floorboard. All I saw was this horrible
looking creature standing up behind you and I feared for your safety!"

	"I know. I know, Lance. It really wasn't your fault. Matt had no
business hiding in the back of my Jeep. You had no way of knowing it was
he, but it was what you said and the way you said it. You can plainly see
why Matt is so sensitive about his looks. He thinks of himself as a freak
and thinks everyone sees him as he sees himself...only you verbalized it."

	"DAMN! I feel terrible. What did the doctor say about him? Is he
gonna make it?"

	"I don't know. He had a breathing spell almost like this one when I
took him on a walk in the woods. After he rested long enough to catch his
breath, he recovered in a day or two."

	"God, I hope he recovers this time, too."

	"So do I."

	"Hank, what do you want to do? Should I go back to the motel to
wait on you?"

	"I don't know, Lance, but I DO know you shouldn't be here. If Matt
regains consciousness. I don't want him to see you."

	"Are you going to stay until his uncle arrives or longer, just in
case he comes to?"

	"Right now, I'm trying to decide what to say or how much to tell
his Uncle Mike. I told Mike I was going to spend the weekend with a friend
from home. Mike doesn't know about me---that I'm gay---and he CERTAINLY
doesn't know about you being my lover. He's a friend of my dad's and if my
dad gets wind of anything about me OR YOU, I'm in a shitload of trouble."

	"Let me write down the name of the motel where I'm staying. You can
get the number from information and give me a call as soon as you find out
something."

	"I will, Lance."

	"God, I want to hold you in my arms so badly that I could climax
right here just thinking about it."

	"And I want to be IN your arms, Lance. I've needed you to hold me
ever since I got here in Philemon. I hate to admit it, but looking after
Matt all day and night has been more stressful than anything I've ever
tried to do."

	"You mean you have to do total care on him, like bathing,
feeding...and taking him to the toilet?"

	"No, Matt can do all those things independently."

	"Then why has it been so stressful."

	"Because, Lance, Matt thinks he's in love with me."

	"Holy shit! Hank, have you done anything to encourage him?"

	"Hell, no! I've done nothing but DIScourage him. I even made him
promise me not to say anything about the way he feels about me. It
worked...he kept his promise all week until tonight when he hid in the
backseat of my Jeep on my way to meet you."

	"He KNOWS about me?"

	"Yes, I told him you were my lover...I used that to try to deflect
his feelings toward me. Apparently, it didn't work. He wanted to see you,
to see your face. He had to see what kind of competition he was up
against. Matt's very jealous of you."

	"Hank, look at me and answer me truthfully--how do you feel about
Matt?"

	"Are you crazy? He's a thorn in my side, an albatross around my
neck, a horrid shadow that follows me in the light AND the dark."

	"Then why don't you come home with me? Once I ask Lois for a
divorce, I'll pay for your college tuition."

	"Lance, let me put something to you as you just did to me!"

	"What?"

	"Look ME straight in the eye and answer ME truthfully. Lance, do
you love me?"

	"Why...how could you ask such an absurd question? You know how I
feel about you."

	"No, I don't, Lance. I know you shower me with kisses and great sex
when we meet in bed every Wednesday, but you've never said those three
important words...'I LOVE YOU'.

	"You want me to say it here in the lobby of this hospital for
everyone to hear?"

	"There's no one listening to you except me...so either say it or
tell me that you DON'T love me. At least I'll know where our relationship
stands."

	"OK, I...I'll say it to you after you meet me at the motel and I'm
sure no one else is listening."

	"You won't say it now?"

	"NO! I'd be too embarrassed, Hank!"

	"In that case, go sleep at the motel by yourself. I won't be
joining you."

	"Look, Hank, we had the whole weekend planned. I drove all the way
down here just to be with you. Doesn't that say something? Doesn't that
prove how much you mean to me?"

	"Without your saying the words, it only means that you are horny
and THAT'S what I mean to you."

	"Ah, shit, Hank..."

	"Goodbye, Lance..."

	"What?"

	"I said 'goodbye'! Have a nice sleep at the motel and have a safe
trip home when you wake up."

	"Hank, you don't mean this! We...we have our whole lives planned
together."

	"Our lives? Once a week? Every Wednesday? Is that what you mean by
'our lives together'? Lance, I want you to leave before Mike gets here and
I REALLY should be in the room with Matt. He might be dead and here I am,
standing in the middle of a room waiting for you to say something you don't
have the balls to say!"

	"OK! Goddammit! I LOVE YOU!" Lance shouted. "THERE! Did that
satisfy you? Was it loud enough?"

	"I'm not sure, but give me the name of the motel and I WILL call
you later and tell you what I've decided to do."

	Quickly, Lance pulled out one of his business cards from his coat
pocket and wrote down the name of the motel and handed to Hank.

	"Hank, please call me. I'll be lying in bed waiting for you with my
arms wide open."

	"Don't hold your arms open too long because I'm not sure if I'll be
coming there to meet you."

	"But..."

	"Go, Lance! Go now! I see Mike's car pulling up in the parking
lot."

	"You WILL call, won't you?"

	"I said I would and I will...now get the hell out of here!"

	Lance all but ran into Mike, Art, Bob, and John entering the
emergency room as Lance was making a quick exit. The four guys ran toward
Hank.

	"How's Matt, Hank?" Mike said, out of breath.

	"Come on, I'll let you see for yourself..."


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(To be continued in "The Passion of Matthew" chapter eight.)