Date: Thu, 28 Feb 2013 23:25:05 -0700
From: dnrock@rock.com
Subject: Value of Love 2 (Revised)

THe Value Of Love
by:  dnrock(dnrock@rock.com)

This is a work of fiction.  The people and places live in the authors
imagination and on his hard drive.  Sex between males is common.  Sex
between males and females occurs later in the story and is limited.  Some
of the sex is graphically described.  If this offends you do not read it.
If you are forbidden by some law or regulation from reading it; I am
supposed to tell you not to.  Consider yourself told.

Please help to keep Nifty on line, make a donation.  Every little
helps. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html



2:  The Longest Ten Blocks in History


"Chance its Sky, look brother I don't think you want to make to big a fuss
over this ...  no I haven't ... In a bit but ... yes you are right but ...
Chance stop.  I think you should know tomorrow is a special day for both
the boys.  Not only is it Christmas, it is also their birthday.  Yes both
of them ... I figured you would say that ... No they do not need a cake
with candles.  No wine, they are only 14.  Ok, one glass ...  look brother
if I don't get back to them we will be late ... yes I love you more than
ever."

"Bit of a drama queen, your brother," Pete quipped.

"Only a bit?"

"Ok, quite a bit, but in all the years I've known him and don't remind me
of how many either, I don't think I've ever seen him as excited as this,"
Pete said.

Sky did not respond, just nodded as he headed back to the interview room.
He had seen Chance this excited before, they were mostly privet moments,
like the first time Sky fucked him to orgasm as 12 year olds and some
public, like his one and only little league hit.  Fortunately it was a home
run since Chance was to excited to run the bases and Sky had to come from
the "dugout" and lead him around the bases.  Sky loved him, for well just
being him, Sky could not imagine loving anyone else as much as Chance.

Sky could not understand how a parent could do the kind of things to a
child that Jim and now Art would be talking about.  Children are supposed
to be loved.  That is their medium of exchange, their currency, they love
unconditionally, the parent who loves them unconditionally in return.  Sky
and Chance had no children, "now days gay couples can adopt but not when
they were younger," he thought.  "Chance would attach himself to these two
boys, latch onto them like a barracuda.  He would love them as if his own,
given half an opportunity.  He would be crushed when social services found
them foster homes.  Unless, well let's just hold off on that thought for a
while shall we Sky boy."

The snow was now getting much deeper and the weather a lot colder.  Their
was a good stiff wind from the north and it was beginning to drift.  Sky
wondered if the dinner party would even go forward.  "At least it was a
white Christmas.  Some conciliation," he thought.

"Ok Art, your turn to bare your soul," Sky announced.

"I was in the living room, laying on the sofa, watching "Its A Wonderful
Life" on the TV when she shot him.  The bedroom door opened, big blood
stain on his shirt and he staggered out, falling on the floor.  I saw her
standing behind him pointing the gun at me.  I rolled off the sofa onto the
floor, just a split second before she fired.  Made a, very loud noise and a
big hole in the sofa cushion. Before I could react she put the gun in her
mouth and fired it again.  I called 911 and they talked me through it, sort
of.  The cops said they found me wandering down the street with no shoes or
jacket.  I guess I was in kind of shock."

Now it was Jim's turn to sit with his mouth hanging open and thinking, "
Art's situation was way worse than mine and he isn't blubbering like me."

"How did you get here, to the station," Sky asked?

"This female officer, found me and put me in her car to keep warm, than
they brought me here."  Sky added that to the statement.

"Where did she get the gun?"

"It was my dad's, he kept it in his room some place."

"Did you ever fire or handle it?"

"No, never fired it.  If I ever handled it must have been as a little kid.
I had even forgotten he had the thing until I saw it in her hand."

"Now this is the hard part Art.  Do you have any idea why she would have
done this?"

"No, not really, I mean she and dad had disagreements and sometimes she
would get on my case for stuff but to kill him or try to kill me.  I don't
know.  Dad was always so quiet and just dad."

"Was she acting strange in the last little while?"

"I guess it depends on what you mean by strange.  Mom was ultra religious
for the past couple of years.  I mean going to meetings, studying, services
and stuff 15 or 20 times a week and always quoting the bible and
Baker-Eddy.  The last few months she got bad headaches too."

"Was she on some medication?"

"Not in the way you mean, she was Christian Science and her medication was
to pray."

"Did that help?"

"I guess, but it was getting worse not better."

"Did you and your dad attend meetings with her?"

"Not dad he wanted no part of it and just stayed home.  I would go if
forced.  Christian Science does not shun medicine but believes when
combined with faith it is much better.  Mom, she was just into the faith
part."

"Did other members come to pray with her?"

"Yes, mostly when dad was at work, and I was at school.  I would pray with
her if she asked.  If you ask me, I think its all bunk."

"Did she know how you felt?"

"No, she just assumed I was a believer.  I just wanted to be as supportive
as I could be.  That's the Christian way isn't it?"

"Yes it is."

"I think faith was her drug of choice, like what you said about Jim's mom."

"That may be true.  You were laying on the sofa, with no shoes on, watching
TV when you herd the shot?"

"Right.  Mom would not let us have street shoes on in the house."

"Why did you remain on the sofa after the first shot was fired?"

"It took me a second to realize it was that local, not on TV or someplace
else in the building.  When the door flew open I knew something was up.
When I saw dad stagger out and fall forward I just rolled like a football
play I guess."

Sky pushed the pad to Art for signature and initials.

"Your turn to tell us your feeling about today's events."

"I don't know what to say.  I'm just very confused.  I was mad at first, I
mean she tried to kill me, she killed my dad and tried kill herself.  I'm
not sure if I want her to make it or not.  I mean if she gets better she
goes to jail.  I just don't know."

"What if their was some kind of organic problem that you are unaware of,
how would you feel?

"I just don't know, but I guess at least, less confused."

Sky looked at Jim.

"I don't know buddy, I think you get some kind of bravery award in this.  I
mean you're so calm and all.  It makes about as much sense to me to shoot
that crap in your arm and kill yourself or someone else, as use a gun."

They both looked at Sky now expecting some kind of explanation.  Sky had
none and that's what he told them.  "... I'm not sure if we can draw any
firm parallels in these two tragic incidents.  As I said, I'm not the
psychologist.  From my experience you are both in for a very hard time for
the next little while.  In fact, the enormity of what has happened will
come crashing down on each of you.  You will not see it coming and you will
probably not realize it is even happening to you.  I want you both to watch
each other, to look for those signs in each other.  I want you to promise
each other to be temporary brothers.  Brothers would never let anything bad
happen to each other.  Can you do that?  The important thing to remember is
you're not alone, you got a buddy, in fact more of them than you think."

This time Jim extended his hand and the shook on the promise.  Sky checked
his watch.  It was now almost 4 p.m. and they had to get moving.

"I suppose you were wandering what was gong to happen next and just how you
will be able to keep that promise.  Unless you have some close by relatives
social services doesn't know about or some good friends you two are coming
home with me for the next few days.  I assume your social calendars are
clear?"  They all chuckled.  "Since both of your homes are Crime Scenes we
can't go back their and get anything for a while.  Social Services can't
get across the river and even if they could to what purpose.  They have no
place for you to shelter anyway.  My brother and I have volunteered to do
that.  In this you have no choice, there are no viable options to choose
from."

"Are you sure, nobody want a junky's or jailbird's boy," Jim started to
say.  Sky interrupted him before he could make some more self depreciating
statements.

"Yes, I am sure.  I must warn you that I put up with no crap," he hesitated
briefly, "when it comes to my brother.  He is a self proclaimed flaming
queen.  He and I are lovers have been since we were kids.  Yes, were are
gay, queer, fags or what ever but we are not pedophiles, judgmental or
sanctimonious.  Chance, that's his name, will hug and probably kiss and
hold and well he is just very affectionate and demonstrative.  Just put up
with it.  He may treat you at first like small children, lack of
experience, he will get over that."  Pete came in at that point with
parkas, gloves and winter boots for all three.  He scrounged the boy's
stuff up from the locker room and equipment storage.  He also had about 10
more messages for Sky, all from Chance.

"Will you be coming tonight, Pete," Sky asked?

"Janet and I wouldn't miss if for anything, its a short walk."  The boys
looked puzzled.

"Hasn't told you yet, Chance is just the best cook in the world and the way
he decorates for Christmas is ...  Martha Stewart eat your heart out."
Pete departed.  The boys didn't know who Martha Stewart was exactly but
they both had some images of female decorations done to some extreme in
their minds.

Sky explained, "tonight is our annual Christmas Eve party, about 50 or so.
You two will of course be our guests of Most Honor.  By the way your
stories have already hit the TV so even though I will ask everyone not to
pressure you for details ...  Just say: 'I can't comment, police
investigation in progress.'  That especially goes for the journalists that
will be attending.  I'll point them out to you.  Now as you can see my
brother has given me instructions."  He was holding up the pile of
messages.  "These are our instructions as we walk home.  It will be the
longest 10 blocks in history."

The boys looked at each other and at Sky.  They were both thinking about
the same thing.  How nuts are these brothers, how will I get my stuff,
where will social services put me, I didn't know they had gay cops, what
exactly does he mean by flaming queen, tomorrow is my birthday, another non
event, what if this and what if that.  God do I look dumb in these
coveralls, gee am I hungry.

Jim thought, "I guess gays are probably OK, I guess my dad is one or
something.  We had fun before he went back and before mom got her habit.
We were a family.  I wonder if I'll ever be happy again, if I'll ever have
a family again."

Art thought, "My dad never said anything bad about homosexuals or anyone
else for that matter, he was a nice guy, always good to me.  Sure he had a
poor education, worked as a laborer all his life, drank to much beer.  He
always said he was not the brightest bulb in the box, but he knew bull shit
when he saw it.  He didn't deserve to die, not that way, not by the hand of
someone he loved and trusted.  Mom always ran things, always had to have
her way.  Why did she change, she was so nice when I was younger?"

"Sir, are you sure you want us at your party."  Jim asked?

"Its Sky as soon as we leave the building and I am sure of only one thing.
If we are late for his dinner we are, all three of us in deep shit.  While
you correctly view your situations as less than desirable my brother looks
at this as his opportunity to be Santa.  For my peace of mind, please just
let his/our hospitality wash over you, go with the flow and for a few hours
at least, find peace in your otherwise tumultuous young lives.  Forward
march!"

"Pete, look at me."  Sky held up his cell phone and switched it off.  "I am
booked off until the 27th."

"Yeah sure," Pet thought. "Like riding herd on two very upset and
traumatized teenagers for two days is not working.  Good luck pal."

For boys, processing emotional information and emotions requires two
components.  They require time and activity to do this.  Girls operate
differently, they want to talk.  They want to think things through by
articulating their feelings.  Boys want to think things through by doing
something and talking about it after.  Sky knows this, so a ten block walk
with numerous stops and collecting more packages than the three of them
could easily carry, will be a good thing.

As they trudged through the weather, hoods up and heads down, snow
particles stinging their cheeks and foreheads, little was being said.  The
little trop moved from the deli, to the baker, to the hardware store and so
on.  Sky was not always quite sure why this or that place and what these
places might or might not have to do with the party.  He was sure Chance
had probably destroyed any budget that had been set.  Nothing new in that
though.  When they got to the Mike's Men's Clothing store the routine
changed.  Mike insisted they take a few minutes to warm up.  Sky set his
load down and removed his coat.  The boys set their parcels down, but were
a bit reluctant to remove their coats.  If you were 14, self conches and
dressed in ill-fitting, CPD coveralls, you would be too.

Mike was not about to take no for an answer.  He stands about 5 foot 3
inches.  He is dapper and not bad looking for a mid 30's man.  He is very
well dressed, he has to be.  If you are operating a small, very up scale
men's clothing store that catered to young professional on the make crowd,
you have no choice.  Mike stood his ground looking up at the boys, they
both appeared slightly taller than he, with a very determined smile on his
face.  "Look dudes, I can't do my job if you won't cooperate, take-em-off."
He had is left hand on his hip and made a flipping motion with his right.
"Tell them Sky, I not a chicken hawk."  He looked at his watch. "We don't
have much time.  Off, off."

Sky began laughing and nodding in agreement.  "They are embarrassed be seen
in uniform, Mike."  Jim and Art slowly removed the parkas to reveal there
ill fitting coveralls.

"I can see why, not very flattering to their youthful statures.  March to
the fitting rooms and let's get you properly attired."  Mike pointed, Jim
and Art with a, a resigned-to-my-fate body language, moved.  Just as they
reached the fitting rooms Sky said, "By the way, I can not tell a lie Mike
here is a chicken hawk."  The boys did not react to that so either they
realized this was some kind of joke or they had no idea what Sky and Mike
were talking about.

 "Step in, draw the curtain and strip."  Mike slipped in with Jim and one
of his staff appeared from nowhere with a small pad of paper.  Mike started
calling out measurements, then articles of clothing and colors.  The
assistant rushed off as Mike came out.  Sky sipped his coffee watching the
little show.  All the time Mike was measuring Jim and Art he praised their
youthful bodies, good looks and so on.  Another assistant came up and took
Art's numbers and again rushed off.  The first assistant came back with a
large pile of clothing and slipped in to assist Jim.  These assistants are
youngish fellows in there early 20's.  Sky did not know their names but
from the efficiency they displayed were well trained.  Mike was good and
his staff would need to be just a good to hold a job for very long.  From
what Sky knew about Mike, one of Chance's friends, he was good in bed too
and just loved training the younger ones.  Within about 15 minutes the boys
were outfitted down to new shoes.

This was not typical teen fashion but typical young man on the make
fashion.  Stylish sport coats, shirts, slacks, socks, undies, belt, even a
tie.  They did look handsome, Sky thought as they inspected themselves in
front of the three sided mirrors.  The assistants made some comments about
beating the boys off with sticks and both Jim and Art turned a bit red.
That they understood.  What Sky understood was his brother was already
remaking these two lads.  He had never met them, knew nothing about them;
Chance in his strange wisdom was giving them a new image.  A new image to
the world and new image for themselves.

The boys were not all that sure about these fashions but they were
preferable to the ill fitting coveralls and undergarments.

As they collected themselves and their bags and parcels Mike handed each a
relatively large plastic sack.  "Happy birthday Jim, Art," and shook each
boy's hand.  They were a bit taken aback but managed to get out a
meaningful thank you.  "Now on your way or you will be late, I close up at
six so will be along soon."  The boys took off the shoes, put on the boots
and parkas.  There were several other stops but nothing else like the
clothing store.

"How did Mike know it was our birthday, did you tell him," Art asked?

"No not me, I did tell Chance and guess he learned it by Chance."  They all
chuckled a bit at Sky's pun.  The trio turned the corner to Sky and
Chance's street and were immediately confronted with one awesome display of
seasonal decorations.  It seemed like every house for blocks was lit up
with colored lights and displays of every kind.  One house in the middle of
the second block stood out as exceptional.  It had more lights, more
displays, just more of everything.  They were on the porch, roof, front,
back, sides, lawn...

"This is awesome, Sky I've never seen anything like this before.  I mean a
whole street all lit up," Jim said.

"Do you live on this street." Art asked?

"Since I was a baby, guess which house," Sky responded?

"The one with all the lights, I mean that one with the most lights," Jim
answered.

"How did you ever guess?  Chance will meet us at the door and take the
packages, we need to remove our boots on the porch.  Just slip on those new
shoes."

The house is an older structure built in the 1930's.  It had a large porch
running across the entire front with columns and glass windows in the
winter and screens in the summer.  They went up the wide stairs.  Once in
the porch the street took on an almost magical quality with the internal
lights reflecting from the frost on the widows blending with the distorted
images from the other dwellings.

No sooner had they entered than Chance flung open the interior door.
"Welcome, welcome wonders, here let me help you with those packages."  He
began collecting stuff from the boys, totally ignoring his brother.  When
the door opened the most wondrous smells came drifting out.  They were
mostly smells of food a very important smell to a teen.  Smells of pine and
candles and sweets all mixed with the turkey and ham.  Glorious smells of
Christmas. Chance made several trips into the living room depositing all
the parcels on the chairs and sofas.  As the boys and Sky removed their
parkas, hats, mitts and the like, Chance collected and hauled them away
leaving room in the front hall for guests, due to arrive within the next
hour.

When Chance reappeared he immediately grabbed the closest person, Jim and
gave him a bear hug and kiss on the cheek.  "This is Jim."  Chance backed
up to get a better look at the handsome and now well dressed boy.  "And
this is Art."  Chance hugged and kissed him.  "I'm Skyler, you know, your
brother."  Chance grabbed him and they kissed most passionately for what
seemed like the longest time.  Jim and Art were slightly uncomfortable they
felt almost like intruders on a privet moment.  Chance and Sky seemed not
to notice.

"Oh, brother you have brought the most wonderful present to our home, these
two beautiful boys, thank you."  kissing him again.  Neither of these boys
was accustomed to so much praise from strangers, hell they were not
accustomed to this much praise from their families.  No one had called
either of them beautiful since they were very small, so small Jim didn't
even remember it.  Not that they didn't like it, even boys with low self
esteem and crushing emotional upheaval like their egos stroked.  They were
just not sure if it was real or not, at this point that's Ok, still feels
better then the alternative.

"I have your dinner on the table, go eat the others will be here soon.  Now
you just make yourselves at home and if you want anything just ask Uncle
Chance."  He was leading them by the hands into the kitchen.  "Sky you
carve the roast and the ham, I already did the Turkey and make sure they
are well fed."  Chance pranced out of the room into the dining room and
living room to put things away.  Art and Jim were polite and a bit hesitant
but Sky just began loading his plate.  The example was sufficient for them
to follow.  Chance was flying in and out talking the entire time.  He never
stayed for a response but went rushing around carrying on some kind of
running monologue commentary on what ever popped into his mind.

"He gets like that when he is excited, you'll get accustomed to it," Sky
commented.

"I put your birthday presents in your room, you can open them after
midnight.  It is the one at the head of the stairs.  That's the same room
Sky and I shared until we moved into the master after our parents retired.
I hope you don't mind but it only has one bed.  You two can share for a
night or two?"  Chance did not wait for an answer.  "The upstairs bathroom
is at the end of the hall.  Towels in the linen closet.  Your tooth brushes
are on your dresser, pick a color.  Other personal items in the little
cases also pick a color.  Our guests will be arriving shortly.  I expect
you three to circulate and talk to everyone.  My, you boys are well
dressed, Mike outdid himself..."  Chance finally stopped in mid sentence.
He looked over at Jim who was beginning to cry and turning red with
embarrassment.  Chance move like lightning, placing his arms around the boy
from behind and kissing him on top of the head.

"It's Ok, it's Ok" He repeated.  Let it out, let it flow, I was just
reading how important crying is as an emotional release to all primates,
especially people," Chance admonished.

Art's eyes were beginning to tear a bit now too.

"No ... nobody ever made a fussed over my birthday before, it always seemed
to get forgotten," Jim managed to get out.

"Mine too, Uncle Chance, I think you and Sky have just overwhelmed us," Art
offered.

"I guess I have, didn't you warn them, never mind," he handed a tissue to
Jim, "Just try and go with the flow and don't think about any of it for the
balance of the evening."

"Yes Sir." Jim offered.

"Hear that Sky he called me Sir, me of all people, he call me Sir, well at
least someone around here recognized I have balls."  Chance was dancing
around the room.  Sky was of course laughing almost hard enough to bring
tears to his eyes.  Laughter is infectious, kind of like yawning.  Once it
starts it catches on.  Soon Jim and Art were both laughing too.  The laugh
of youth, the delight of just letting yourself free of self imposed
restraint.

"I've never questioned your anatomical masculinity brother, just your
expression of the Y chromosome."  He turned to the boys. "His moniker,
"Flaming Queen", you know is a self title."  Sky and Chance began laughing
again and embraced.  In a way they were testing the boys.  Not a planed
test but a kind of test never-the-less.  They would either accept or reject
this somewhat bizarre behavior by the adults.  They also wanted to
reinforce the notion that being different, even outrageous, is not
necessarily a bad thing.  At Jim's school Chance would be called a fairy or
worse and at Art's a sissy or worse.  The other grade 9 boys in their
middle schools and they too, at least until today, would often refer to
effeminate boys as fags instead of the more polite terms.  Fag often
carries a derogatory connotation.

"In all seriousness are you two ready to face our public or would you
prefer to hide in your room," Chance asked?

Jim and Art looked at each other nodded and in unison replied, "Yes, we
guess so."

"Good, they will be here any minute.  Remember there is nothing that
attracts the attention of our friends, gay or straight more than mystery.
Evasive answers to all questions."  The boys were not sure just what Chance
was talking about but what the hell, they had nothing to loose.  Could
their lives be many more fucked up than they were at the moment.  One thing
was obvious they would not be given an opportunity to indulge in the mind
numbing self pity they both wanted to try on for size.

Sky put on the CD player and the Leonard Cohen song Hallelujah, sung by
Rufus Wainwright from the Shrek movie soundtrack came up, he let it play.
Not the "teen noise" the boys were accustomed to but well done and a good
song, he is known to the teen set at least.  "Listen to that thought. You
know he's gay," Chance commented?

"Who," Art asked?

"Wainwright, the singer and so good looking too, he has nothing on you
boys," Chance respond.  When the song finished Sky loaded a good mix of
seasonal music.  Suddenly people started arriving.  At first neighbors,
than friends, clients and cops; singles and couples.  Everyone came with a
small gift or card, some several gifts, all of which Chance placed under
the large tree in the living room.  When the boys arrived there were only
about six things there, after dinner there were perhaps fifteen, by the end
of the evening they were spilling out onto the floor and occupying all
available spaces on the mantel and end tables.  Neither of the boys
realized, until the evening was almost at its climax, most of these gifts
had their names on them.  What they never twigged to was how easy it had
become to just go with the flow.

............................................