Date: Sun, 06 May 2001 16:32:59 -0400 From: Tom Cup Subject: Angel - Chapter 2 G/M Y/A Angel by Tom Cup Copyright 2001 by the Paratwa Partnership, A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving youth/youth and adult/youth sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. To support these and other stories by Tom Cup, visit: http://tomcup.isCool.net or http://www.boyztown.net Angel by Tom Cup Chapter 2 "It is a strange request," the bishop stated looking in to the dull eyes of the old priest standing before him, "James, we have known each other for thirty years. Why on earth would you want to spend your final years, at a home for boys, in the middle of nowhere?" They were alone and fell into the easy conversation of two old friends. They drop the titles and formalities to speak in earnest with each other. "You'll laugh Paul," the older priest stated with a smile. The bishop had once been his charge. There had been genuine affection between them. The old priest had mentored the bishop when he was young and sent him off to seminary, counseled and watch his rise within the priesthood. He was proud when he became a bishop. And yet, whenever Paul had expressed his desire to move the old priest, to a position that would advance his career, he always declined. The mission was his life work. The mission, he stated over and over again, was where he belonged. "Humor me," the bishop responded. "I have wanted to move you for years and now you ask to be move to where it would appear you are being demoted. Why James? It doesn't make sense." The bishop was right of course. There would be whispers of disfavor if the request was granted. Some would wonder if there was some scandal brewing. Others would be as bold as to suggest that the priest's insistence on staying at the boy's mission was the key to the problem. There would be fires to put out and that task would fall on the bishop. "I've had dreams," Father Kennedy answered to the raised eyebrows of the bishop, "Now don't go looking at me like I'm going senile. I'm not. At first, I thought they were brought on by the departure of the boy. But I've seen boys come and go for years. It rarely affects me. Besides they didn't start right away. It's nearly six months since the boy left." "Are you telling me you have been dreaming of this and you want to be reassigned there to be near him? James!" "Hear me out Paul, I beg you. It's not lust that makes me want to go. We have all had dreams. Most we know are dreams. Some we do not. Still there are other dreams that come to us that are....different. These are of the latter. I can not explain it. I have tried to reason it away. I suppose it is how Joseph must have felt when he dreamed of taking Mary as his wife. I believe that these dreams are messages." "From God or the Devil?" the bishop shot before he could stop himself. He could see the hurt in the older man immediately. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Please, continue." "You have known me for thirty years. You know what kind of priest I am...what kind of man I am. You would not be bishop if you could not, in some measure, read a man. I tell you that there is no lust in me for the boy. But the dream is clear. I must go to him." "How do you know this?" "He told me." "In a dream?" "Yes." Bishop Albright knelt silently at the alter. He sighed deeply. His thoughts were on the priest he had reassigned. He would miss him. Was that the real reason he had been reluctant to grant the request? Was it that he had leaned so heavily on the old man for these thirty years? He was the one he called to conference when he could trust no one else. Was that it or was it jealousy? Was it that he was going to take another boy under his wing as he had done with him? Did he feel he was being replaced? Perhaps. There were only two things that were clear in the bishop's mind, as he knelt in seeming prayer, that he would visit this place that had drawn his friend from him and that it was James that should have been bishop. Angel felt the hand on his shoulder but gave no evidence that he noticed. He continued to stare at the reddening sky as the sun settled behind the mountains. Darcy stood beside him as if they were the closest of friends. He waited until the last of the evening rays disappeared and then turned to Angel. "You know why I'm here?" Angel nodded. "He didn't tell me that you spoke to him but I know you did. I can tell." Angel remained silent. "He's a good man Angel. Really, I you know that. I just don't want to see him hurt." There was such tenderness in Angel's eyes. Darcy understood the effect that he must have on the priest and the other boys though he felt nothing. Angel was merely a project to him. A boy to be won to his side, if possible. If not, then he was to be neutralized. Darcy preferred to win him. "Maybe we could just spend time together. You know, read scripture together or walk together. You don't have to talk if you don't want." Darcy laughed at his last statement. He know that Angel didn't need permission to remain silent. That much the boy had made clear. Still he wanted Angel to know he would not expect his speech as part of the deal. "So do we have a deal? Can we spend some time together?" Angel merely smiled and left. Cornelius was awakened by the strength of the thunderclap. The flashing lightening and drum roll of the clouds sent a thrill through him as he got dressed to check on the boys he knew would be frightened but the mountain storm. Though he'd slept for only four hours, he felt remarkable refreshed and alive. Gone from him were the worries and lust of the night before. He even thought of Angel and felt no stir within him. He smiled to himself and thanked God for removing the stumbling block. He walked quietly down the halls, stopping briefly to peep into this room or that, and found the boys most likely to be frightened by the storm deep in sleep. He marveled that they were sleeping through this storm when milder ones had caused minor hysteria but was thankful that even Charles had managed to sleep through the onslaught. He passed Angel's room and stopped. There was a faint light coming from under the door. He knew, of course, that the boy had little fear of storms. In fact, he seemed to get as much joy from watching them as the priest himself. Still it was his duty to check on him and make sure everything was all right. He knocked on the boy's door. With any of the other boys, he would have waited for an answer but he did not expect one from Angel. He slowly opened the door whispering, "Angel," as he entered. Angel was not asleep. He was standing in the middle of the room facing the door. Father Cornelius started at the boy for a few moments before he realized that he was being addressed. "What?" "Come in," Angel repeated. It was not Cornelius' practice to enter any of the boys' rooms. When he did visit one of their rooms, he usually invited them to a more public place, his office, or for a walk. He thought to say that he was just stopping to check on how the boy was doing. He wanted to say that it was late and they both should try to get some sleep. He took he involuntary step forward and stopped. His hand was still firmly gripping the door knob. "No," he managed, "I just saw the light and wanted to make sure everything was all right." "Come in," Angel repeated. Cornelius noticed the softness of his voice. And yet it wasn't a request the boy was making, it was a command. The lightening flashed behind him outlining his slender body. Cornelius closed his eyes and forced himself to step back. "No, thank you Angel," he said politely, "I need to check on the other boys." "They're all right," Angel replied, "Come in." Cornelius stared at the boy. How could he know? Was it just a guess? There had been such finality in the statement. Such confident reassurance. The boys were OK. Cornelius knew. He also knew that if he entered the room no one would disturb them. How could he know that? Was it implied in Angel's statement? Was he imagining these things? Maybe, he thought, I'm having one of those dreams that seem to be real. "Don't be silly," Angel said, "You're not dreaming." What? Confusion began to stir in Cornelius' mind. Had he spoken out loud? Yes, he must have. The boy was unnerving. And yet, there was no lust. "I'm resisting", Cornelius thought, "and my body is cooperating." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Angel," he said, "I would love to do nothing more than to speak with you. I think you know that. But it is not appropriate for me to enter your room alone, especially at night. If you wish, we can make an appointment to speak in my office or we can take a walk but now is not a good time. "Why?" "Because it's late at night and the other's are asleep as should we." "Why does that make this a bad time to speak to me?" "Angel it just wouldn't look right." "No one else will know." "I'll know." How Cornelius knew that Angel had smile at his last response he wasn't sure. It was as if he almost felt the boy smiling at him. It wasn't a mocking smile. It was a smile that said, "I'm no danger to you. Trust me." It was a smile that warmed Cornelius to his very soul. He shook his head. "I know you want to talk to me Father," Angel's voice came to the priest as a song, "I am here for you now. I will talk to you." "Why now Angel?" Cornelius asked feeling himself weakening. "Because you need me now. Come in Cornelius." The familiarity of the boy's use of his name was not lost to Cornelius. Yet, it didn't shock him as it should. Instead, somehow, he felt comforted by it's use. "Need you?" Cornelius whispered, "What do you mean?" Angel stepped forward and took the priest's hand. The warmth of his touch washed over Cornelius' body. He felt the acceptance of a mother's love. He knew there was nothing he could hide, or wanted to hide, from this boy. Was this how it happens? he wondered. Is this the crossroad we all meet? That moment in your lives to which all subsequent events can be traced? If I move forward, will I regret not having left this room? If I leave this room, will I regret having done so? The questions flowed one into each other as he stared into Angel's comforting eyes. It makes no difference, Cornelius concluded, whether he leave or stay. I simply have to choose. "Come," Angel whispered. Cornelius stepped into the room and closed the door. To support this and other stories by Tom Cup, visit: http://tomcup.isCool.net or http://www.boyztown.net Send comments to: tom_cup@hotmail.com