Date: Thu, 16 May 2002 19:06:12 EDT
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: Gay Male/beginnings/Autumn's Leave-7

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or offended by gay fiction containing graphic sex and explicit language,
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                             AUTUMN'S LEAVE

                                   by

                            Ritch Christopher


                              Chapter Seven


	Nina's wake was scheduled for 7:00 PM.  Tom, Cliff, and I had
arrived at 6:30 for a private "family" viewing. This was painful, but it
was the usual procedure to let the loved ones see the corpse first in case
there was some reason not to show the body. I didn't know what to expect,
as I didn't know how much facial damage Nina might have incurred from the
glass of the windshield.  She and I usually watched "Six Feet Under" on
HBO, Sunday nights and watched the careful undertakers do magic with makeup
and bees' wax.

	When Malachi raised the lid of her coffin, I closed my eyes. Then,
slowly, I opened them again, letting Nina's dead image focus in a squint at
first. There was no noticeable damage at all to her face or
extremities. Malachi's mortician had done a marvelous job making her look
beautiful.  It's strange but when you've lived or been close to someone for
over ten years, you never really notice if they're beautiful or not.  I
mean, Nina always looked like Nina. But in her coffin, her hair was better
coiffed than I had seen it in years. Her make-up was understated and in
good taste. She would've liked the way she looked...well, maybe she
wouldn't have liked seeing herself dead in a casket,I thought, the tears
welling in my eyes, but under the circumstances, she would have approved.

	Tom, Cliff, and I stood there silently letting the situation of the
moment sink in. I mean, here was the proof! There was no more
imagining. Nina, my wife, was dead. I felt sad but not empty, for I was
viewing her with my lover and my best friend.  It was Tom who turned
away. I don't think it was guilt as much as he was just a bit squeamish
about seeing a corpse.

	It was Cliff who broke the silence.

	"My God, Jim," Cliff said. "I haven't seen Nina in years but she
looks as young and pretty as I remembered her."

	"Thanks, Cliff," I replied, "She didn't keep up with fashion or the
style of the day. Nina was always herself...nothing phony or
pretentious. Nina was... Nina."

	Cliff was standing between Tom and me. He sensed that Tom was
having a more difficult time in accepting what we were looking at. He
slowly put his arm on Tom's shoulder, in a fatherly manner, and gave it a
slight squeeze. This somehow gave Tom the strength to turn around and one
more look down at Nina. That was when Tom began to cry.  His crying built
until Cliff pulled Tom into his shoulder and let him rest his face
there. Tom's tears were getting the breast of Cliff's black suit wet. Cliff
didn't mind because he had held many mourners in the same way and was used
to getting tear-soaked.

	I wanted to hold Tom, but it would look better if anyone were to
arrive early and observe his grief and see him sobbing on the shoulder of a
priest...not the new lover.  Suspicion must not be aroused at all costs. I
definitely wanted Tom to spend the night at my house. Neither of us knew
what Harm was up to, and I didn't want to run the risk of another midnight
visitation in Tom's dorm room.

	At seven o'clock, Malachi got the nod from us and he unlocked the
door to the parlor containing Nina's casket. My God! It was like a long
line waiting to get into a new movie at the multiplex on a Friday
night. The entire faculty was there and only God knows how many students
and team members I had coached. Were they there to comfort me or were they
just curious "rubber-neckers" wanting to see the spectacle, the end result
of a tragic car accident? Most of the crowd had been to Sandy's wake, the
night before at Henderson's Mortuary. Her funeral was scheduled tomorrow
morning, so there was a lot of stress on the grievers, having to cope with
two deaths in a row. I had called Timothy's Flowers and sent a wreath to
Sandy's parents. Her death, as Nina's, was so needless. As for Nina's
flowers and wreaths, there couldn't possibly be one flower left at any
florist in town. There were so many funeral sprays, Malachi, after he had
filled Nina's parlor, had lined both sides of the hall with them. If it
hadn't been so horribly personal, it might have been mistaken for Pasadena
on New Year's Day at the Rose Bowl parade.

	As the crowd began filling the room, Tom thought it best if he
disappeared amongst them to keep from drawing attention to his being "one
of the family". I'd heard all the "oh, I'm so sorry, Jim"'s all morning at
my house that I cared to hear. Instead, as the friends, students, and
co-workers approached me, before they began their obligatory condolences, I
interrupted them by introducing Cliff, the minister who would conduct
Nina's services on Thursday. I was afraid Cliff would be as worn out as
I...but he had a large cathedral in Briarwood and probably met more people
than this at the door as they exited his church after Sunday mass.

	Thank God for Cliff. Just as someone was about to stay too long
talking with me, Cliff would acknowledge the person or persons, next in
line and he kept the line moving. Jesus! Who WERE all these people? I
didn't know half of them and I'd bet a year's salary that many of them
didn't know Nina, nor had ever met her for that matter. I could see I was
in for a long session standing beside Nina's bier. The night went on and
on.  Suddenly it was nearly eleven o'clock. I was drained, exhausted. I had
asked Dean Connelly, my coaches, Buddy and Dan , along with Wiley, Phil,
and Howie from the team to be pallbearers.  These three players had spent
the most time "off hours" at our house. They had known Nina the best.  I
didn't ask Tom for obvious reasons and I knew he was glad. By the time
everyone left, they all were satisfied with the way Nina's wake had been
handled. They all had met my best friend and each of them had been "taken"
by his charisma.

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

	Leaving Jim and Cliff to meet the herd. Tom slipped out of Nina's
parlor and debated going outside to smoke a cigarette, but this wouldn't do
if someone saw the team quarterback smoking and ruining his health; this
would just be more fuel for the furnace, if the situation became heated.

	Instead, Tom wandered down the long halls at Simmons 'and, way at
the end; he noticed the door open to Parlor "D". This seemed like a good
place to escape or hide, so he went in, closing the door behind him. Tom
was alone...but not really. There was someone else, so to speak, in the
empty parlor.  On the other side of the two-room parlor, Tom saw a glowing
light coming from the second room. He walked over and peered in. There was
an open casket in the room. Tom felt a quiver down his spine as he
approached. From the entrance, he could see a pair of folded hands, which
were slightly raised higher than the side of the coffin.  Tom slowly walked
over to the body.  He felt weak and faint as he discovered that it was
Ray's corpse. Ray, whom he had picked up at Shoney's a few nights
before. Ray, whom he had held in his arms, exploring every inch of his
naked body. Ray, whose cock and ass were so well known to him after their
one night of passion. Ray, whose male fluid he had swallowed and felt
gushing inside him.

	Tom was stunned as he stared at his "friend"...his one-night
stand. Where were his mourners? Where were the wreaths? Where were his
friends and family? It was as if no one knew or even cared that Ray was
dead. That Ray had lost his life because of insane jealousy aroused by
their one night of passion.

	"Dammit!," Tom thought, "If neither of us had been so horny the
other night, you'd still be alive."

	Harm was going to pay for this...and pay big! Tom couldn't decide
whether to go to the police with what he knew just now or wait until after
Nina's funeral, knowing that he might be risking other people's lives with
Harm on the loose and fearing what he might and could do.


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


	It was a little after midnight when Cliff, Tom, and I returned to
my home. The three of us were extremely tired after such a taxing
ordeal. But the wake would continue later the next evening and then Nina's
funeral the following day.

	"Tom, are you going to your classes tomorrow?" I asked.

	"Not if you need me," he replied.

	Cliff had already "caught on" somewhat to Tom's and my "close
friendship" and gave no sign of disapproval.

	"For appearance sake, it might be better if you went. Also, I hate
to say it but we're in for more of the same tomorrow evening. More people
to meet and more condolences, however, you won't, or don't, have to go
unless you want to. I know that tonight was rather tough on you."

	"It got tougher when I left you and Father Cliff," he said.

	"How do you mean."

	"I went down the hall at Simmons' to get away. Did you know there
was another body in Parlor "D"?"

	"No, I didn't. I did know that Sandy's arrangements were being
taken care of by Henderson's'"

	"You'd never believe it, but Ray from Shoney's was in Parlor
"D"...no family, no friends, no co-workers, no flowers, no names of
visitors who had signed the register book...nothing!...Just a bare room
with Ray in his coffin." As Tom was telling this, with each sentence he
choked up more and more ending, in an inward cry.

	"Oh, my God, Tom! It must have been horrible for you!"

	"I stood there looking at him, feeling guilty and madder and
angrier at you-know-who!"

	"You didn't see him at all tonight, did you?"

	"No! If I had, when I left Ray, I'd probably have killed him!"

	"Don't go talking like that! What good would that do if you
committed a crime and I suddenly lost you from my life?"

	"I don't know, but, somehow, I think I would feel better if I could
just beat the shit out of him...Excuse me, Father!"

	"No, it's quite all right," Cliff assured. Tom's and my
conversation had perked Cliff's curiosity and I knew he had a hundred
questions going through his mind to ask.

	"Cliff, a lot has transpired that I haven't told you about."

	"I assumed that," Cliff replied, quietly.

	"I don't want to keep you in the dark, but I know how tired you
must be after your flight and the ordeal I put you through tonight with all
that mob of mourners." I said.

	"No, I'm not at all tired."

	"If you'd like to go down to the guest room where your bag
is...where you dressed tonight, and get comfortable, I WOULD like to talk
with you after I say 'good night' to Tom."

	"Go right ahead. I'll use the bathroom and when I come back, we can
have a drink or I'll make a pot of coffee." Cliff said, getting up to
leave.

	"I'd like that," I responded.

	"Father, I'm going to bed and let you and Jim talk."

	"All right," Cliff said, taking Tom's hand. "You looked pretty
stressed out at the funeral home. Try to get some sleep if you can. Maybe
the two of us can talk and get to know each other better tomorrow
afternoon."

	"Thank you, sir," Tom replied. "I want to get to know you."

	"We'll make a point of it." Cliff said. "Now if the two of you will
excuse me for a few minutes, I WILL go get out of this suit and into
something more comfortable."

	Cliff exited, going to his guest room. When he was gone, Tom ran
into my arms and we held each other, tightly. We kissed each other's ear
while hugging.

	"God, I've wanted to hold you all night," Tom whispered.

	"Me, too!" I uttered softly.

	"You think Father Cliff knows about us?" Tom asked.

	"I'm sure of it." I assured him, "But don't worry, Cliff would
never judge or condemn. He and I have known one another too long. He knows
me better than I know myself. You'd be surprised at how much he already
knows about you."

	"But he and I have barely talked," Tom replied in a quizzical tone.

	"You don't have to say much to Cliff. He has more dead-on, accurate
intuition than any woman ever dreamt of having."

	"There was nothing...you know...ever between the two of you, was
there?"

	"Not what you think...but the moment you meet Cliff, no matter who
you are, some kind of relationship begins immediately...but if you're
referring to sex...no way! You're the first male Cliff has ever seen me
looking at in a romantic way. I told you. He's only seen the 'straight'
side of me, ever!"

	"I bet he's seen the 'other' side of you now. I hope he's not
shocked."

	"You go on to bed and I'll fill Cliff in on everything...about you
and me and Nina and me.  I want to tell him about Harm, too."

	"Oh, God!" Tom suddenly exclaimed. "I forgot! Tonight at the
funeral home, just before everyone left, I was talking with Phil and
Howie. Thank God they know about us! But they were saying that the other
night...the night of Nina's accident...they had left the party early
because Phil had a test the next morning. Any rate...they passed by your
house around 8:45 and they saw Harm's car parked two doors down from your
driveway. They started to stop to see where he had been and what was going
on with him...but they just assumed he had stopped by to see you and Nina
was probably giving him the 'what for' for missing school and causing
everyone to be alarmed about him."

	"Phil and Howie think that Harm was inside talking with Nina?"

	"That's what they said."

	"That was BEFORE he came to visit you!"

	"Yes."

	"My God!!! Then there's no telling what he said to her. Jesus
Christ! If he upset her or threatened her in some way...Oh JESUS! NO!
THAT'S why she was driving around during 'Third Watch'. Either he scared
her out of the house and she was running for safety or...Oh God!...maybe
she thought he was out to get us...you and me! I KNEW something had upset
her!!! All the pieces are falling together now! That explains why she was
driving between nine and ten at night. She could have had a panic attack,
lost her breathing, and driven straight into the car she hit."

	My hands were shaking and every hair on the back of my neck was
standing up. I was filled with a combination of hurt and rage.

	"Tom, Harm might not have known about Nina's accident when he came
to see you. He might be innocent of directly causing her death...but
INDIRECTLY...he could have caused the whole thing to happen!" I was almost
screaming,

	Cliff was returning to the living room and he heard my outburst. I
couldn't help myself. I broke into tears and sobbed. Cliff and Tom came to
comfort me en masse...one on either side and the two of them led me to the
couch before I fell in weakness. They sat on either side of me. Cliff had
his arm around my shoulders and Tom held my shaking hands.

	"I think someone should fill me in on a few details," Cliff said.

	I still couldn't talk.

	"Father," Tom began, "I don't know where to begin. It's a long
story...and a rather dramatic one."

	"I had a feeling there was some special reason why Jim called
me...other than to just tell me about Nina," Cliff said.

	I was slowly composing myself. I could hear the nervousness in
Tom's voice and I knew that it was I who should be telling these things to
Cliff. The relating of so many twisted details shouldn't weigh on Tom's
shoulders. I wiped my eyes and asked Tom if he would go make us a
drink. Cliff chose an Irish cream, I wanted straight scotch over the rocks,
and Tom opted for bottle of Propel Fitness Water.

	While Tom was gone to the kitchen, I caught my breath and walked
over to the opposite sofa so that I could look Cliff in the eyes while I
told my narrative. I sat, looking deeply into Cliff's deep pools of blue
filled with compassion and understanding. God, how Roger must have loved
him! Who wouldn't? Who couldn't?

	"Are you OK, now?" Cliff asked.

	"Better. Thanks." I said, clearing my throat. "Cliff, I don't know
where to begin. Maybe I should start by explaining about Tom's place in my
life."

	"There's not much to explain," Cliff replied. "It's obvious you're
both very much in love."

	"I knew that you knew.  But there's much more to it than that."

	"May I inquire if Nina knew?"

	"Yes."

	"And what was her reaction?"

	"Nina and I loved each other very much. Our love never
faltered. She wanted me to be happy...the same as I would've wished for
her."

	"Even if she had fallen in love with someone else?"

	"Even then."

	"No jealousy? No hurt? No signs of revenge?"

	"None. I would've done the same thing if our situations had been
reversed."

	"I believe you," he replied, softly. "Nina was Nina...just like you
are Jim. I've never known either of you to be dishonest or anything less
than truthful.

	"Had you discussed leaving her for Tom?"

	"No, Tom and my relationship had not reached that point. Jesus,
Cliff! You know me. I've never had any homosexual tendencies in my
life...at least none that I was aware of...and then...Tom...this kid...less
than half my age...came in to my life...quite by accident. I still don't
know how we even wound up in bed together that first night. Nina knew from
the very beginning. She even discussed it at breakfast the following
morning. Cliff...she all but gave her approval...lovingly."

	"I would expect as much from her."

	"That's when I started questioning my psyche. What would attract me
to a male...and a young one, at that...so late in my life? I mean, hell,
I've been coaching boys for years. I've seen them naked, daily in the
showers. I've rubbed their tight muscles...given them massages...applied
bandages and ointments in very private places...and never got turned on
once.  They were guys... the same as I. It's funny, but I never had
feelings for another woman, either. Sex was not that important to me,
apparently. Nina's and my sexual relationship had slacked off over the
years to practically nothing. I "got off" alone in the shower when I found
myself with a boner I couldn't get rid of quickly."

	"Jim, you know I love you as I loved Nina, so please don't take
this the wrong way."

	"I would never take anything you say 'the wrong way'."

	"OK. Have you thought that Tom might be the 'son' that you always
wanted? I knew that you and Nina couldn't have kids. And again, don't get
me wrong. Is Tom a way to hold on to your youth...say, like...the answer to
a mid-life crisis?"

	"I've been through all those things in my mind, Cliff, over and
over. I've tried to consider and weigh ALL possibilities of why this "gay"
thing would surface after being straight for almost forty years. It's just
that the whole thing doesn't make sense."

	"You still believe in God, don't you?"

	"Yes...but Nina and I weren't very active in religion. We didn't
make it a habit of going to church unless it was for appearance sake or to
be seen by the rest of the faculty. our friends, or the teammates'
families."

	"Then, if you believe in God, you know that He's always had a plan
for you. One that you have no control over."

	"What are you getting at?  You think God sent Tom into my life?"

	"Let's make some suppositions. If Nina's death were predestined, as
the Presbyterians believe...and IF there had be no ME for you to call, who
would have been here for you?"

	"Probably Tom...as a team player or as a friend...but as a sex
partner?"

	"Jim. God knows no barriers in sex. When a person dies and the soul
leaves them...do you think there are male and female souls? Souls are
souls...spirits...there is no gender in heaven. Sure, some of the angels
mentioned in the Bible have masculine names...Gabriel...Michael...even
Lucifer...but do you think they were actual males?"

	"I'd never thought of that."

	"Then if the soul is the life force in the body. Why should that
same living soul be any different? There are no boundaries where male and
females are concerned.  Who's to say that your soul-mate might or should
have a vagina or a penis? That's what distinguishes the bodies...NOT the
souls."

	"And you think that God would've sent a young man to be my soul
mate?"

	"No one knows what God's thinking. We're supposed to accept it and
go on with out lives...for when life is over and we're through with the
physical structure...sex ceases to be sex. We're all just 'neuter', so to
speak."

	"Yeah, but what about the age difference?"

	"According to the Scriptures, some of the historic Jewish
patriarchs were hundreds of years old before they took wives and had
children.  Mary and Joseph were just teens, while Elizabeth, Mary's cousin,
was almost an old woman when she begat Jesus' cousin, John the Baptist. The
Bible puts no age limit on love...so should we? Who's to say that you and
Tom, God forbid, won't be killed in an accident in the next six months?
Should you sacrifice what days, what moments you'll have, loving one
another, for fear there's an age difference and you shouldn't take
advantage of every day and minute you can spend, loving each other?"

	"You're saying...'Go for it'?" I asked, almost peacefully.

	"Well, of course, that depends on how much Tom loves you."

	"With all my heart and soul," Tom said at the door, having
overheard Cliff's and my conversation while standing in the dark,
unbeknownst to Cliff and me.

	"Hi, Tom," Cliff said. "Come on in and sit down."

	"I heard what you just said," Tom said. "I couldn't believe it!"

	"Why?" Cliff asked.

	"Well, forgive me, but Jim told me you were gay...and I didn't know
if you were speaking as a gay advocate, a priest, or a friend."

	"All three." Cliff said, smiling at him.

	"I never heard a minister say things like that before." Tom
replied, handing Cliff and me, our drinks.

	"Well, maybe Briarwood Anglican Church is a bit far to come to
services every Sunday, but I assure you that everything I just said to Jim
is the same sermon I preach from my pulpit."

	"Damn!" Tom exclaimed. "Just how large is your church?"

	"You mean, before or after we enlarged it to accommodate all the
parishioners?"

	"Are they mostly gay?" Tom quizzed, very interested.

	"We have a good many gays, a good many straights, and a good many
who aren't sure what they are...but they all come to church for the same
reason and to hear the same message," Cliff said, sipping his drink, "My
lover, whom I recently lost due to a brief illness, and I housed several
young men...about your age...and I'm afraid they all had the same doubts
that you have when they first moved in. I wish that you and Jim would come
for a visit and meet out little family."

	"You've just opened an AIDS hospital, haven't you?" I asked.

	"Yes, and by God, we're going to find the cure. It's there...and
we'll find it...under some beaker or on a micro-slide, or in some formula
that's finding its way through our massive research computer network. I'll
tell you more about it tomorrow, but just tonight my curiosity was piqued
when I came in...about someone named 'Harm'. What's that all about?"

	"Jim, you tell, and I'll fill in what I can." Tom said, as he
seemed relieved to be able to tell the whole episode to someone who was
genuinely interested.

	For the next hour and a half, Tom and I told the saga of Harm,
leaving out no details. The more we talked, the more Cliff became intrigued
by the chronicle of events.

	"And that's what the two of you were talking about when I came back
from my room? You think this 'Harm' came by and upset Nina and that's why
she left the house...in a panicked state?" Cliff queried.

	"Neither Tom nor I can be sure, but there is that distinct
possibility." I answered.

	"And no one has gone to the authorities about Harm and the girl,
Sandy, or the waiter?" Cliff continued to pry.

	"No, sir," Tom replied. "I was going but with Nina's death and
all...I knew that Jim would be involved and he had enough on his mind with
her funeral arrangements...Well, maybe I should've, anyway."

	"I can see your reasoning for being thoughtful where Jim is
concerned, but there IS the chance that you both may still be in
danger...not to say 'who else?' if Harm has gone off the deep end in a fit
of jealous rage."

	"What do you suggest, Cliff?"

	"First of all, the stress and strain of the past 24 hours have
taken their toll on both of you. I think the best thing would be for you
both to get a good night's sleep, and then, tomorrow, if Tom is up to it,
I'll go to the police with him and let him tell his story. How do you feel
about that?"

	"I'll go," Tom said. "That way, if anyone else comes by Jim's
house, he can be here without causing too much suspicion. No one would
notice, not even Harm, if you and I were at the police station, Father."

	"Do you agree, Jim?"

	"Yes, Cliff, but the two of you should be careful. Harm followed
Tom and me all the way out to the airport when we went there to meet you
and neither of us knew he was only a few feet behind us, the entire trip."

	"You'll recognize his car, won't you, Tom?"

	"Yessir, a light-blue Mustang."

	"OK. We'll take a cab to the police and that way we can both be
looking out for him...in any direction."

	"Sounds like a winner!" Tom said. "However, in many ways, I wish he
WOULD follow us to the police. He would put himself in the right place for
them to arrest him."

	Cliff stood up. "All right, if that's the plan, I'll go to bed and
we'll leave right after breakfast...say around...8:00 AM?"

	"He won't be expecting us that early, I don't think. I mean, for
God's sake, he's got to sleep sometime." Tom said.

	"All right, good night, guys," Cliff said, walking over to give Tom
and me a hug. He kissed us both on the cheek and slowly walked toward the
hallway leading to his guest room. He stopped and turned, giving us one
final look. "One more thing..."

	"What is it, Cliff?" I asked.

	"The two of you should sleep in the same bed tonight. I think
that's what both of you need." He smiled, knowingly, and exited.

	"What is there about him that makes me think everything is going to
be all right?" Tom asked, after Cliff was gone.

	"That's just the way he is. That's the way he's always been for as
long as I've known him."

	"Do you know if he has a new guy in his life since his lover died?"

	"I'm not certain, but one night over the phone, he mentioned
something about the new doctor in charge of his hospital. I think his
name's Ed. Why? Are you interested in applying for the position?" I joked.

	"No way, you clown! You're all I want forever and ever. I was just
thinking how lucky Roger was to have had him. I just don't think he should
be alone. He needs someone and I'm sure there's another guy out there
somewhere who needs him. I'm certain of it."

	"Oh, now, you're becoming a 'Dolly Levi'!"

	"No, but I'm serious! Since I've got you...I just feel that
EVERYONE should have someone."

	"God, how you've matured since I met you that first night at the
locker room entrance."

	"A lot has happened to make me mature, Jim."

	"Who would've thought it?"

	"Yeah, who?" Tom replied as he put his arms around me and kissed
me.

	"Ready for bed?" I asked.

	"I think so," he answered.

	"Your room or mine?"

	"OURS! Whichever one that might be."

	"Let's sleep in MY bedroom." I suggested.

	"Do you feel all right with that? I mean you and Nina shared that
room..."

	"She wouldn't mind. I wouldn't want her to be alone if the
situation was reversed and she'd want the same thing for me."

	I went to the front door and put on the chain latch and dead
bolt. I turned out the lights and peered through the curtains, looking for
a blue Mustang and gratefully, I didn't see one. Then I took the drink
glasses to the kitchen to rinse them and lock the back door. There was no
sign of Harm out the back, either. Then I went into my bedroom where I
found Tom had already undressed and was lying there naked with the sheet
and blankets pulled up to his waist. I had envisioned this sight in my
dreams and in my shower "jerk off" fantasies. I just didn't know what kind
of horror it would take for my dream to come true, but I had made up my
mind, especially after talking with Cliff, that I would feel no guilt in
loving Tom. Nina had been the love of my life for over a decade and then
some, but for some reason, my life would go on and I would find the way
with my young lover.

	I took off my clothes and hung up the pants to the suit I had worn
to the funeral home. When I was naked, I turned and Tom had raised up the
covers to invite me to join him. I turned out the light and moved into the
bed with him where my flesh met his. There was no sexual stimulation, only
a feeling of comfort and safety as we embraced. Our lips met gently, at
first, but then our tongues touched. As we opened our mouths, Tom and I
sighed in unison...releasing some of the tension we had been holding inside
for God knows how long.

	We didn't have sex. We held each other all night...falling asleep
in a locked embrace and waking several hours later in the same
position. How great it felt to love and be loved! My little "Romeo" must
have felt the same way, for he was asleep within minutes after we began
holding each other.


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

	Within minutes after Tom and Cliff had left the detective bureau, a
citywide "bolo" was issued for Harm and his light-blue Mustang. The campus
police and security had also been alerted. A combination of rumors and
truth spread throughout the university,

	As soon as Phil, Howie, and Wiley had gotten the drift about Harm,
the three of them made a beeline in Wiley's pick-up to the Coach's
house. In spite of the sorrow in the state of affairs, they wanted some
answers that only the coach could supply. By the time they heard the
gossip, the report was now saying that Harm had killed Nina, Sandy, and
some kid from Shoney's. If Harm HAD murdered Nina, they wouldn't need the
police. The three musketeers would take care of Harm by themselves! Their
emotions ranged between disbelief and anger. After all, Nina had been like
a second "mom" to them; what the fuck did Harm have against her?

	Tom and Cliff hadn't returned yet by the time the three enraged
football players were banging on the Kerr door. The noise startled Jim, at
first, until he saw whom his unannounced guests were. His initial instinct
had been to think it was Harm at his front door. He was relieved until he
noticed the expression on their faces. He opened the door and they all but
barged in uninvited.

	"Coach, we're sorry to disturb you," Phil began, "but what the fuck
is going on? It's all over the school that Harm killed Mrs. Kerr! Is that
true?"

	"No, Phil, we're not sure," Jim answered, "But the police are
looking into the possibility that he might have upset her in some way."

	"Goddamn it!" Howie screamed at Phil. "I KNEW we should've stopped
when we saw his car parked in front of this house the night before last! I
just wonder what the son of a bitch did to her."

	"I don't think he did anything physically to her because he went to
see Tom after he left her."

	"And WHAT did he say to Tom?" Howie yelled.

	"Not much...but he made some idle threats that there were a few
things he wanted to talk to her about.  That's why we don't think he
advertantly caused her accident." Jim said, trying to calm down Howie.

	"He KNEW about you and Tom, didn't he?" Howie continued.

	"Knew WHAT about the coach and Tom?" Wylie asked innocently but
perplexed.

	"Oh, nothing, Wylie! You don't have to know everything!" Howie
snapped at him.

	"You mean the coach and Tom...? Holy shit!" Wylie said as the light
bulb turned on above his head.

	"Will you shut the fuck up?" Howie warned.

	"I had no idea..." Wylie persisted.

	"And you still don't!...GOT IT?" Howie doubled up his fist in
Wylie's face.

	"Hey, guys," Jim pled, "please just calm down and I'll tell you as
much as I can."

	Jim seated the three of them in the living room and relayed as many
details as possible, leaving out any mention of sex between Tom and him,
Tom and Harm, or Tom and Ray. Phil and Howie could read between the lines
while Wylie stayed in the dark about most of the narrative. The two athlete
"lovers" shook their heads in astonishment at what the coach was telling
them,

	There was a long quiet pause when Jim finished his account of the
dark events. Phil and Howie sat there trying to drink it all in, to
decipher the truth from the rumors they had heard on campus.

	It was the naivete of Wylie that finally broke the silence.

	"Are you guys trying to say that Tom is gay?"

	"Yes, dummy, Tom is gay...and so are Phil and me!"

	"You're kidding?!!" Wylie exclaimed.

	"No! And if you say one goddamned word about it to ANYBODY, then
the police will be looking for me after I pound the living shit out of
you." Howie said, firmly.

	"Who else knows?" Wylie kept on. "Fuck! If you and Phil are really
gay, then I'll bet everyone thinks I am, too...I mean, shit!! ...the way we
always fool around in the shower...I thought you guys were just kidding
around. Damn, if anybody knows about you two and they happened to see us
jerking off together, they MUST think I'm gay, too. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!  I
ain't no queer!"

	"No one said you were, asshole...and believe me, no one in his
wildest imagination could ever think you were. You're too fucking dumb to
be gay! You don't know what to do with your own dick, let alone, with
someone else's!" remarked Howie, again, trying to shut Wylie up.

	"How could I've been so fucking stupid?" Wylie added.

	"You can't help what you are! Phil and I are gay, and you're
stupid, so I guess that pretty well makes us even, but we're not here to
talk about who's gay and who's stupid, we're here to try to find out what
to do about Harm." Howie said, emphatically.

	"What CAN we do, Coach?" interjected Phil, trying to restore some
kind of order to their intrusive visit.

	"Nothing for now, boys." Jim replied. "Let's first let the police
do their job. However, if any of you see hide or hair of Harm, for God's
sake, be careful and contact the proper authorities, whether it's the
campus security or the police department,"

	"I wish to hell I knew where to look for him," Phil added. "I
thought we, the three of us, anyway, knew ALL his hiding places. Where do
you suppose he goes at night? He MUST sleep and, well, hell!, he's got
about the only light-blue Mustang in town."

	"It's the light-blue that blends in with the traffic." Wylie said,
becoming more involved in the immediate matters. "Now if it was
red...well..."

	"Boys, I want to thank you for accepting my request for being
pallbearers at the funeral tomorrow." Jim said, calmly,

	"Heck, Coach, we'd have been hurt if you HADN'T asked us,

Coach," Howie replied, "she meant a lot to us. She was always
taking care of us...fixing us meals...or snacks while we watched the games
here on Sunday afternoons."

	"You guys...and Harm, included, were like sons to her." Jim said,
slightly choking up.

	"That's why it just don't make sense that Harm would want to hurt
her!" Howie added.

	"Do you think it WAS because of his jealousy over you and Tom?"
Phil asked.

	"We still can't be sure," Jim responded, "but for now, that's all
we have to go on. Oh, don't you guys have afternoon classes?"

	They all replied with "Yeah."

	"Then you'd better get back to campus. I don't want any of you
having to be benched due to a missed test or lecture." Jim said.

	"We'll see that that doesn't happen, Coach," Phil assured
him. "Coach?"

	"Yes?"

	"Are you gonna be all right?"

	"I'll be fine." Jim said, smiling, "Just try to keep the team
together...and do what Coach Waters and Coach Mansfield says. I talked with
both of them this morning and all the new plays are in the book. We have a
big game Friday night."

	"We'll win that one for Mrs. Kerr, Coach," Howie promised.

	"Thanks, guys. Now go on back to your classes."

	"Will Tom be at practice this afternoon?"

	"I'm sure he will," Jim said, "It'll be good for him to get away
from all this sorrow and drama...just as it will for the rest of you."

	"Don't worry, Coach," Howie chimed in, "We'll look after Tom...If
Harm comes within 100 yards of Tom...well, he's dead meat!"

	"Don't do anything crazy, Howie!" Jim warned.

	"We won't. I just wanted you to know that Tom is totally safe with
us around him."

	"Thanks, guys, now scoot!"

	The three of them left Jim by first giving him a handshake,
followed by a hearty hug. Jim closed the door and seemed pleased and
relieved that he had his "family" support. They were good boys and he loved
them...Harm, too...but the thought of that brought a frown to his face.

	There was still the second night of Nina's wake to contend
with. Jim spent the rest of the afternoon reminiscing about old times with
Cliff as they exchanged 'Nina stories'. Tom went to football practice and
promised to be back at Jim's house around 6:30 PM.  There was enough "wake"
food of covered dishes in the kitchen and refrigerator to feed Coxey's
Army, so Jim didn't worry about preparing dinner for Cliff and Tom.

	When Tom left for football practice, he gave Jim a big hug and
kiss, unashamedly in front of Cliff. Then he paused to hug Cliff and Cliff
responded by holding Tom tightly for a moment.

	"Don't worry, big guy, I'll take care of Jim while you're gone."
Cliff said, releasing the embrace. "Just YOU be careful!"

	"I will," Tom, said smiling and almost running out the door before
Jim and Cliff could see the tears forming in his eyes. He closed the door
behind him.

	"He's quite a guy," Cliff said to Jim.

	"You don't think he's too young?" Jim asked, almost afraid to hear
Cliff's response.

	"Heavens, no!" Cliff said, quickly. "He's had quite a rough
life. You...or rather, I should say...you and Nina were the first emotional
stability he's found for a long time."

	"Did you have a nice talk with him to and from the police station?"

	"Yes. We stopped for coffee at some place called Nicky's and got to
know each other a bit."

	"Oh?"

	"Jim, trust me. There's no doubt in my mind or in his that he loves
you...loves you deeply...and I don't mean as a teacher, a coach, a mentor,
a friend, or any of those things. He loves you as his lover."

	"You don't think I'm an old fool making a complete idiot out of
myself, Cliff?"

	"Jim, Jim, you're a great teacher but a terrible student.
Didn't you hear anything I said last night concerning love, age, and
gender?"

	"I could probably quote you, chapter and verse." Jim answered.

	"Then you know how I feel...and if you're looking for my
approval...well, you have that AND my blessing. I think you two were meant
to be together."

	"You think we stand of chance of making it last?"

	"As long as it's supposed to." Cliff said, "I thought Roger and I
would grow old together, years from now. But that wasn't the plan or the
way it was meant to be. But not a night goes pass that I don't thank God in
my nightly prayers that we had the time that we did have together."

	"Do you mind if I ask you about this "Ed" you mentioned one night
on the phone?" Jim asked.

	"Oh, there's an attraction there...but nothing solid. He's
straight."

	"You mean like me?" Jim smiled.

	"Yes, like you." Cliff laughed.

	"Weelll, THAT can change!" Jim joked.

	"Are you speaking from experience?" Cliff added.

	"God, I love you, Cliff!" Jim said, "Nina did, too. Even though
miles separated you from us, you were always in our thoughts...and the
comfort both of us had...just knowing you were only a phone call or an
e-mail away."

	"Thanks, Jim. I loved both of you, too. I know you will miss her,
but as I said, I think it was in God's plan for Tom to enter your life when
he did."

	"Divine intervention for a college football coach and his male
quarterback?"

	"Absolutely!"

	"I can't thank you enough for coming." Jim said, "Are you up to
going through another night of greeting mourners? I DO feel guilty and wish
you would just stay here and relax."

	"Mourners don't wear me down half as much as having to listen to
several hundreds of confessions during the week."

	"God, I hadn't thought about that. How do you stand it and what
medication do you take?"

	Cliff laughed. "That's why I'm dating a doctor, I guess."

	They both laughed.

	Jim and Cliff waited for Tom before leaving for the funeral
home. Tom got there around 6:45 PM and told Jim about the practice and the
pros and cons of the new plays in the book. Tom seemed more elated and not
as depressed. The practice HAD been good for him, but he was glad that Jim
had excused him from the second night funeral vigil.

	After Jim and Cliff had left for Simmons'. Tom threw off his
clothes to shower since he hadn't done so after practice. When he was
bathed and shaved, he put on a sweat suit and went into the kitchen to
prepare his dinner. There were scads of things to choose from...fried
chicken, roast beef, ham, barbecued ribs and assorted dishes hiding various
potato salads, candied yams, green, orange, yellow, and even purple
vegetables with lots of pickles, olives, stuffed celery, etc. Tom mounded
his plate almost four inches high with food and placed it in the microwave.

	While he was waiting for the meal to be heated, he clicked on the
TV to see the night's fare. "Ed"...yuck!, "West Wing"...ho hum,..."Law and
Order"...not bad...but that was fours away. On the way home from the police
station and Nicky's, Father Cliff had asked the cab driver to pull over at
a book store he had spotted. Cliff asked Tom and the driver to wait while
he quickly went in to purchase a book. Tom assumed that Father Cliff was
buying some religious book to help him with his Sunday sermon.

	Instead, Cliff handed the wrapped book to Tom.

	"Take this and read it in your private moments, when you're alone
at night...when you go to the bathroom...whenever...but I want you to have
this."

	Tom took the package without opening it; He wasn't really into
religion or philosophy. He couldn't imagine taking some book of thoughtful
poems to read while he was sitting on the john, but he had thanked Father
Cliff and had tucked it under his arm without opening it.

	On his way back from the living room to the microwave, Tom saw the
unwrapped book and opened it, expecting to see some deep-meaning volume
about God's love in the time of sorrow or need, But no! It was a novel...a
novel called, "The Front Runner" by a lady author named Patricia Nell
Warren.  Tom looked at the liner notes and discovered it was the story
about this coach who fell in love with this track star who wanted to be an
Olympian.  Damn! It was a gay love story...given to him by a priest?

	Tom set his plate on the kitchen table and began reading Chapter
One of Father Cliff's present. The book hooked him on the first page and he
started reading rapidly, turning page after page, and finding more and more
details that reminded him of Jim and himself. Tom was completely absorbed
in the story. He was enthralled by the closeness of the characters to his
own present life.
	Tom read non-stop until nine o'clock, sitting at the table. Then he
decided to move to the bedroom to lie down and continue his reading. He
didn't hear the back door open...because Harm had opened it almost
silently. Nor did he hear Harm stealing quietly up the stairs to the
bedroom. Tom was already into Chapter Nine when he reached for his
Diet-Coke he had placed on the nightstand. THAT was when he caught the
first glimpse of his intruder.

	When he saw that it was Harm standing in the bedroom doorway, Tom
was startled and jumped to his feet.

	"Harm!" Tom shouted.

	"Whatcha readin', lover boy?  'How To Become A Quarterback Bride'
or memorizing the words to 'Old Folks At Home'?" Harm sneered with sarcasm.

	"How'd you get in here?" Tom asked.

	"Not the way you did, I'm sure." Harm replied. "I never had to pay
for my room and board by sucking an old man's dick!"

	"Tom, why are you acting this way? Coach has always been like a
father to you."

	"Yeah, and what's he to you...a sugar daddy?"

	"Harm, you don't scare me one bit, so you can just slack off on the
bullshit remarks!"

	"Oh, are you here to guard the fort while your old boyfriend is
downtown crying over his dead wife? Or are you here to protect him...or is
it the other way around? He's protecting you? From who? Me? That's a
fucking laugh!" Harm blurted out.

	"Harm, if you know what's good for you, you'll get the fuck out of
here now! I suppose you know the police have a b-o-l-o out for you."

	"I figured as much, I saw you and Blondie in the cab this morning
when you got out at the police station. Who's he...another old
boyfriend?"

	"It's none of your business who he is! And what the fuck were you
doing following me, anyway?"

	"I just like to keep track of my competition." Harm replied, coming
further into the bedroom.

	"Harm, have you gone nuts? I told you there is NOTHING between you
and me...no relationship...no sex...no nothing!"

	"Maybe that's how you feel." Harm said, advancing, "But that's
certainly not the signals you were throwing off the other night in bed with
me."

	"Goddammit! I told you...whatever you thought...well...it's over!
It never began! It didn't happen! Can I make myself any clearer?"

	"I don't think you gave me a fair shake. I've been wondering what
the coach could do to you that I can't?" Harm was almost next to the
bed. "How about letting me show you how good I can really be."

	"You come any closer and I'll show you how good I can be at
defending myself, you asshole!"

	"I thought you might try to get a little violent." Harm said,
reaching his right arm around to his belt in the back. "That's why I
brought this."

	Harm quickly drew the .38 automatic he had hidden under his belt
and pointed it at Tom. Tom felt a flash of panic spreading throughout his
entire body. Tom realized that Harm was sicker than he had imagined. There
was nothing he could do to defend himself from a maniac carrying a gun.

	"What are you gonna do, shoot me now?" Tom asked, trying not to
show alarm.

	"Maybe not at first." Harm replied, "I'm really not into
necrophilia."

	"Is that supposed to make me feel relieved?"

	"Nope, but I thought THIS." referring to the gun in his hand,
'might have its power of persuasion in convincing you to continue where we
left off the other night."

	"You think I could get excited by you holding me at gunpoint?"

	"Why not?" Harm smirked, "it sure excites me."

	"Harm, put that gun down and gain some control of yourself before
you do something you're going to regret!"

	"What have I got to lose? You and Blondie have already gone to the
police and told them about my killing two people."

	"It wasn't murder, Harm, Sandy's death was an accident, Ray...well,
Ray wrecked his car due to the slippery road. You could probably beat those
charges with a good lawyer...but THIS...this gun you're pointing at
me...well, if you shoot me, that's premeditated murder, which means you
could get life or the electric chair."

	"It'd be almost worth it, just to have you again. Tom, choose
whatever you want to believe about Sandy and 'Ray', if that's what his name
was, but I caused their deaths. I killed them. I killed them because of
you."

	"So all you wanted was to have sex with me?"

	"That would do for starters."

	"And then what?"

	"Maybe we could be MORE than just buddies or sex partners...I mean
I heard you tell the coach you loved him. You haven't known him much longer
than you've known me. Maybe you could love me that way, too."

	"Harm, goddammit! If you want to have sex, we'll have sex...here
and now, but you have to put that gun down first!"

	"You're thinking you could overpower me if I didn't have this gun,
aren't you?"

	"No, I'm offering you sex if that's what you want! But, like I
said, I won't be able to perform under such stress."

	"I suppose I could put it down within arm's reach...in case you
changed your mind and wanted to become a hero...off the football field."

	"OK, Put it down!" Harm ordered.

	Slowly Harm placed the gun on the bed watching Tom carefully for a
surprise attack on him.

	"All right, Harm," Tom said, somewhat relieved that he had
accomplished as much as he had, "what do you want me to do?"

	"Well, you could start by taking off that sweat suit."

	"OK," Tom said, complying by taking off his shirt and then his
pants, all the while keeping his eyes on Harm and the gun. "Now what?"

	"Let me just look at you naked. It was dark in your room and I've
only seen you naked under the shower at school. Let me get a good look at
that body everyone seems to want."

	Tom was naked and he felt VERY, VERY naked and vulverable as Harm
stared up and down at him, He could feel himself blushing from head to
toe. He had no hint of an erection. He doubted seriously if he could even
get an erection.

	"What about you? Are you gonna take your clothes off, too?"

	"Not just yet."

	"Well, what do you want me to do?" Tom asked.

	"I want you to come here and take my dick out of my pants."

	Harm turned around to his side where Tom could get to his fly, but
he still managed to stay close to his .38 automatic.

	Tom was determined not to get upset and let Harm see how nervous he
was, but he had a hell of a time with his fumbling fingers trying to unzip
Harm's pants. Finally, the 'stuck' zipper released and down it came.

	"Go, put your hand in there and pull it out." Harm said, in a
pseudo-sexy voice and the tone and inflection almost made Tom sick to his
stomach. "You don't have to get it hard. It's been hard ever since I came
into this room."

	Tom desperately tried to pull the erect penis out of the slit in
the trousers, but thought it would be easier to unbuckle Harm's belt and
waist button. Harm didn't object to Tom's action, nor did he mind when Tom
pulled both the trousers and Jockey briefs down to Harm's mid-thigh.

	Harm had apparently been sleeping in his car and hadn't bathed in
several days. The odor from Harm's dirty crotch reeked of sweat and dried
semen. Harm hadn't lied about the erection because as soon as it was
released from his pants, it sprung up full force.

	"Now what?" Tom said...although he knew what Harm was about to say.

	"Get on your knees and suck it a little,"

	The idea of the act... Harm, Harm's stench... revolted Tom, but he
was brave enough to go along if this would help soothe the savage
beast. Tom knelt and stared at the hairy monster. He hadn't seen how big
and ugly Harm's organ was in the darkness of his dorm room.

	"Wait! Wait!" Harm said, "I want you to lick it some first."

	Tom forced himself to push his head toward Harm's erection and
tentatively stuck out his tongue to lick just the underside of the
glans. He could feel a quiver going through Harm's body and he heard Harm
sigh loudly while he exhaled. The stink almost caused Tom to gag, but he
held his breath and proceeded with the foreplay. Harm was in sheer
ecstasy. He closed his eyes and savored the moment he had been dreaming of
for days.

	"Now, just put the tip in your mouth and suck gently on it..." Harm
whispered.

	Tom took the entire glans into his mouth. He didn't continue with
the motion, he was waiting for Harm's next instructions.

	"That's it, baby, suck on the end of it."

	With Harm's eyes closed, he was unaware that Tom had clenched his
hands together. Tom counted to three and, with an upward thrust, slammed
his doubled-up fists into Harm's unprotected crotch, crushing his nuts, and
at the same time, he sank his teeth into the space above the ridge of
Harm's glans and bit down on the penis with all his might.

	Harm screamed loudly in howling agony with the blow and the
bite. He tried to push Tom's head back, but Tom wouldn't let go with his
teeth. Whether it was the force of the upward jab to the jewels or the
precise bite from Tom's perfect teeth, but somehow, Tom had bitten off an
inch of Harm's penis...the entire glans was in Tom's mouth. Blood shot
forth from the incised organ as if a major artery had been severed. Gushes
of red were spewing all over Tom's face, the carpet and everything in a
radius of four feet.  Tom stood up and spat out the piece of meat.

	"You son of a bitch!" Harm screamed, "you bit my dick off!"

	In spite of the pain, Harm reached for his gun on the bed only to
find that it was missing. Tom had it.

	Both of them had fear in their eyes...the fear that Harm might and
could bleed to death. Was it possible? That Wayne Bobbitt guy had had his
dick cut off by his wife's butcher knife and he lived; it was even sewn
back on. Tom didn't think Harm would die from his wound, but he would be
incapacitated long enough for help to arrive...both the paramedics and the
police.

	"Do something, goddammit!" Harm yelled, still holding what was left
of his organ, trying to make a tourniquet with his fist. "Call an
ambulance...get help...but for God's sake, help me!"

	Tom picked up the phone by the bed and dialed "911". Just then, he
heard the sound of rushing footsteps as they ran up the stairs and down the
hall to the bedroom. It was Howie and Phil.

	"Hey, Tom! Are you all right?" they were screaming as they ran. "We
saw Harm's car parked one street over and thought...HOLY SHIT!" they
exclaimed as the finally entered the bedroom. The two of them saw the blood
spurting from beneath Harm's hands, which were clutching his crotch. Then
they noticed the gun in Tom's hand.

	"GOOD GOD!" Howie shouted. "What'd you do, Tom? Shoot his balls
off?"

	"It's not his balls," Phil said, inspecting the scene closer, "It's
his dick."

	"God, what an aim you've got, Tom! I knew you could throw bullets
on the field, but I didn't know you were a marksman, too."

	Harm, writhing in excruciating pain, yelled, "He didn't shoot it
off...he bit it off!!"

	"He WHAT?!!!" Howie topped him with volume.

	"The paramedics are on the way and I also called the police." Tom
managed to interject.

	When Howie and Phil sized up the situation, it was Howie who began
to laugh first. Then Phil joined him, and, in a minute, the two of them
were bent double with laughter. The state of the moment was serious, but
neither of them had ever seen anything quite so hysterically funny.

	The paramedics arrived at almost the same time as two police
cars. One EMS put a clamp on Harm's penal stub as an officer was placing
handcuffs on him. Another officer had taken the gun from Tom and was
writing down Tom's account of events. It was 10:30 PM before the ambulance
and police cars left Tom with Phil and Howie.

	"Hey, buddy," Phil, said to Tom. "Are you all right?"

	"If I said 'yes', I'd be lying like hell,"

	"My God, I don't blame you," Phil sympathized.

	"I gotta hand it to you, Tom." Howie said, "only a quarterback
could think of defending himself against a gun while only using his front
teeth!" Howie couldn't help himself. He started laughing as hard as before.

	"Does the coach know?" Phil asked.

	"No, he and Father Cliff probably won't be back from the funeral
home until eleven or midnight."

	"Anything we can do?"

	"Yeah, do you know any kind of cleaning stuff that'll take blood
out of a carpet?" Tom asked.

	"You're covered in blood all over. Why don't you go shower and
clean up and let Howie and me see what we can do to fix the room up before
Coach Kerr gets home. Hell, if he were to walk in here now and see you all
bloody, he...well, you might scare him enough to have a heart attack." Phil
said.

	Phil's advice sounded like good idea and Tom slowly made his way
into the bathroom and turned on the hot water of the shower and stepped
in. Never had a shower felt so good, not even after the toughest football
game. He watched as the blood on his body was diluted by the spraying water
and swirled down the holes in the drain. That was Harm going away...in many
ways. It also reminded Tom that some of the present woes and troubles were
being washed away in the stream. Some of them...any way. He closed his eyes
and let the water hit him in the face. He was replaying the entire week
over in his mind like a very long VHS tape on slow speed. Then if he pushed
the fast forward button, he would be reminded of Nina's impending funeral
tomorrow...the game on the following night...and after that?  He had Jim
forever...if he wanted him. He had a new friend, Father Cliff.  He had
close buddies, both gay and straight, who stood up for him. But most
immediately, inside of a few hours, he would be in Jim's arms to hold him
the whole night through. He had found himself at last, and everything was
going to be all right.

	As Tom stepped out of the shower, he heard the familiar sound of
Jim's car coming up the drive. He slipped on the robe which he had borrowed
from Jim's closet and went downstairs to meet his first and only love.


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