Finding Love: A Journey – II
(© 2007-2009 by the author)
Disclaimer: This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual
activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where
viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or
homosexual themes, leave this site now.
The characters in this story do not always practice safe sex. Remember this is fiction. You should always use a condom for the your protection and especially for the protection of the one you love. The author recommends only safe sex. Be wise and follow safe sex practices.
Several songs are quoted in this story. The copyrights to these are held by the artists or their publishers and not by the author. They are quoted as a tribute to the artist and the piece.
All persons in this story are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Everyone was in the kitchen waiting for Sadie to tell us what
to do. The orders came quickly.
"Brad and Jacob you come with me. I'll drive the Mustang. Devon, you take your car and Adam and Tim will go with you. You follow us. Now let's get going. Father Jim and Gary are going to be at the hospital. Drive carefully. Devon get out of the drive and wait on the road. I'll drive out and close the gates. Brad, are you okay?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
I looked at Sadie and my face told the whole story. Devon, Adam, and Tim had left. Sadie patted Brad on the head, and motioned to me to get him into the car. We two left as Sadie switched off the lights and locked the door.
Soon the two vehicles and their anxious passengers were on the way to the hospital.
It was providential that Chris and Peter had returned to the
hospital before going back to the Neilson place. What they found was disturbing
since the doctors had no really encouraging prognosis about Travis. Strangely,
Chris felt a terrible sorrow, something he had never anticipated. Peter spoke
gently to him, hoping that his words of support and encouragement would soothe
him a little. It didn't seem to work, especially when he entered the room and
his mother fell into his arms and together they wept, perhaps not for the same
reasons, but in a conjunction of sorrow.
Diane and Doug Neilson stood to the side, strain and sorrow etched on their faces. They said nothing. Peter gravitated to them, leaving the mother and son to themselves as they tried to find some reason for all the tragedy that the man lying in the bed apparently dying had caused. Shortly after their arrival, Doug had called Sadie and informed her of the situation. Chris and Jacob were on their way.
Jim stood silently in the chapel of the hospital, the low
candle light causing gyrating shadows on the walls and ceiling of the room. Gary
had stayed near the back of the room, and watched with interest and wonder.
There stood the most important person in his life, someone he knew he was not
worthy to even know, let alone love. Jim was a good man, a sensitive man, a
caring man. Gary found himself praying, asking God to spare Jim any unhappiness
as a result of the onslaught of Arthur Grantford.
Jim was here again to offer solace to the sad and questioning. This was his calling, but it took courage and strong faith to be able to do it successfully. As he watched, Jim fell to his knees and gazed at the large cross which hung on the wall at the front of the chapel. Jim slowly bowed his head and his shoulders fell slightly.
Gary walked down the aisle and knelt beside Jim. He took Jim's hand into his and raised it to his lips and kissed it. He said nothing, but bowed his head in silent prayer. Jim squeezed his lover's hand and prayed aloud, "Almighty Father send me the patience, courage and sensitivity to assuage the sorrow and pain I may encounter tonight. Bless Gary and me and send your grace, Father, to support our union. Amen."
A silent tear ran down Gary's cheek as he was moved by what Jim had asked of God, that he be blessed with Jim and that God support their union. It was an emotional moment. "Dear Jim, that was so kind and loving of you. I only hope that I can continue to live up to your expectations of me. I don't ever want to fail you."
Jim leaned and kissed Gary's cheek. "You could never fail me, Lover. Never! Now let's go to Travis' room and see what we can do. I wonder what we'll find? I hope that I am strong enough to help." Gary was emboldened by Jim's self- deprecating comment. He grabbed him in a strong embrace and kissed him hard on the lips. "You, my sweet lover, are one of the strongest people I have ever known. Damn, man, I really love you so much. You just wait until we get home and I'll show you."
"You're naughty, Gary, especially in the chapel. I love it, though. I hope that isn't just a promise. Let's get going; people in need are waiting for us."
"I hate to correct you, Father Jim, but you're the one they're waiting for," said Gary as the two men walked out of the chapel on their way to Travis Mason's hospital room.
Sadie had no difficulty driving the Mustang which amused Brad
and me. She was in complete control, as she was about so many other things. I
had learned to love her at an early age as she was there for me when I needed
love and understanding. How could anyone imagine that she was not in control
after hearing the story of her brother's death?
Brad and I were in the back seat. He was being stoic at the moment, quietly bearing the weight of his sorrow. I kept rubbing his shoulders, wishing I could do more. I did hope that by touching him, he would be reminded of our closeness and my love for him.
"How are you doing, Brad?" asked Sadie. Brad didn't answer immediately and I heard him gulp as he attempted to hold his emotions in check.
"I . . . I'm okay. It's difficult, Sadie. In one way I should hate him for what he's done, but I can't. He's my father and I know that in his own screwed up way he loves me. He just can't reconcile his beliefs with the idea of homosexuality. I know intellectually he understands it, but his religiosity gets in the way. You know, Sadie, his pastor has poisoned him against his own flesh and blood. How can that be right? How can that be what an understanding God wants? I mean, Jacob and I love each other. It's more than sex, Sadie. That's important, of course, but what matters most to both of us is the other. We want the best for our partner. We want to spend our lives together. I mean, it's not a fly-by-night affair."
"Believe me, Sadie, Brad and I are really in love. I can't get through a whole day without seeing him or speaking with him. He's on my mind in the morning, during the day, and when I finally close my eyes at the end of a day. He makes me a better person because he has taught me courage and faithfulness. He rescued me from myself, and made me face life with a conviction that I'm an okay person. I am no longer afraid because he helped me to learn self pride. I love him so much."
Brad reached and took my hands in his. I could tell he wanted me to know he felt the same about me. I kissed his neck and then his ear and whispered to him, "I'll be with you so try not to worry. Let me give you some part of my energy; use it to help deal with whatever happens."
We felt the Mustang decelerate and our attention turned to the immediate. Sadie was turning into the hospital parking lot. We had to take one trip around the lot to find a space that wasn't too far from the door to the hospital. Sadie turned off the engine, and shortly thereafter we were getting out of the car. I had taken Brad's hand and was walking slowly to the door, not realizing that Sadie had taken his other hand. So it was that the three of us proceeded to Brad's father's hospital room. I was surprised and a little amused by the uniformed officer guarding the room. `How, I wondered, is Mr. Mason going to escape? My God, he's dying. At least that's what I presume.' Then I remembered that he was actually a prisoner who was being held because he kidnapped his son, shot me, and almost killed Brad.
My thoughts were interrupted when Brad suddenly stopped walking and pulled me back. Sadie turned and looked at us, but saying nothing entered the room. "Are you going to be able to handle this?" I asked.
"Don't know. I just don't know. I think I can deal with this, but I'm not sure about all the shit that goes with this sort of thing. I mean is there some fucking protocol you have to follow watching your father die?"
I pulled Brad to a bench a short distance from the door to his father's room. We sat down still holding hands. Brad looked terrible, the result of a combination of stress, lack of sleep and sadness. I rubbed the top of his hand with my thumb. He smiled weakly at me, the corners of his eyes watery. I prayed he wouldn't break down out here in what could be construed as public. But he didn't. Instead he simply asked,
"How should I act, Baby? I don't want to be a wimp, you know. I'm a football player, a quarterback, so I have a kind of reputation to uphold." I couldn't help it, I hugged him to me and giggled. As his body stiffened, I knew I had screwed up badly. He pulled away from me and stood, glaring at me.
"So you don't think much of my being a quarterback? That pisses me off, Jacob Neilson. It really pisses me off."
I know my face reddened, and I stammered an apology, "Brad, I giggled because I thought isn't that just like the guy I love. He's here for such an emotional and important experience, and what's he thinking? About his football reputation. Look, I'm sorry that I upset you. I do think a great deal about your playing quarterback. I admire your talent and ability, but I really think you don't need to worry about that tonight. You should be thinking of your mother and Chris and your Dad. I guess I also giggled because I'm tense and stressed about this too."
Brad said nothing more to me, but turned and walked away from me and down the corridor toward the exit. I knew I had to stop him, so I hurried after him and stepped in front of him. He didn't like it, "Get out of my way, Jake, or I will knock you out of the way."
"Go ahead," Brad, "if you think that will make you feel better. I'll be happy to become your punching bag, but it won't change a thing. You're being a silly ass worrying about looking like a wimp. Why? Because you don't want anyone to see you cry. For God's sake, man, your father is dying. What the fuck are you supposed to do, laugh? I'm going to get out of your way and I won't bother you any more. I'm leaving, then I won't say or do anything that pisses you off." I started to leave, but Brad reached out and grabbed my arm.
"Please. Please don't go. I'm an asshole, and you're right as you usually are. I want you with me, Jake. Don't leave me. I was headed outside to cool off, to think about what you said, to try to discover why I couldn't allow myself to weep for my father. Can you forgive me?"
I guess I forgot myself, and there in the corridor of the hospital, I pulled Brad into my arms and kissed him solidly on the lips, my tongue moving deeply into his mouth. He moaned and then his tongue struggled to take over the duel and become the commander and winner of the battle. Being a wise fighter, I let him in and he took over, bringing me to a heightened level of stimulation.
Tim broke up our embrace when he came in the door. He looked at us in surprise, and spoke with a tinge of humor in his mouth,
"Don't you two think you should get a room?"
"Yeah, good idea," seconded Adam.
"It would appear that it would be an excellent idea," suggested Devon.
We broke apart and looked at each other and then at the three wise men, or so they thought, standing there grinning. Brad spoke first, "Look you guys, we were just settling a little disagreement. A hot kiss always makes us forget what it was we had for a problem. Glad you guys are here. I'm going to need all the support I can get."
Tim extended his hand which Brad took and shook firmly. Then he shook my hand. Adam followed him and then came Devon who was the least familiar with all of us. "Look," Tim said, "you can count on the three of us to do whatever you two need. I can't imagine much about how what's happening must be like to you, Brad. I know you'll be okay because Jake is here with you. Just remember, we all want to help."
Brad reached out and hugged Tim, whose look of surprise made us all chuckle. "Look, Tim, Jake and I understand the agony that you are experiencing with the question about Todd's whereabouts. The battle seemed over for the moment and all of us walked back to the hospital room. Brad and I went into the room, leaving the other guys outside in the corridor. As we were about to enter the room, I saw Father Jim and Gary coming toward us. We waited for a single beat, and then disappeared into the room. Father Jim and Gary followed us into the room.
The doctor, a man in his early forties and with graying hair was speaking softly to Brad's mother. Everyone in the room was quietly listening.
"We think that unless we do a tracheotomy, Mr. Mason will not make it. This is necessary because his trachea is so swollen from the injuries he sustained in the hanging that he is having serious difficulty breathing. We have to do this in order to give him a chance to survive.. Obviously, we can't guarantee that this will change the outcome; however, we can assure you of the outcome if we don't do it. And, Mrs. Mason we have to move quickly."
"You have my permission, please attend to it."
Chris had his arm around his mother's shoulders as Brad moved up and stood on the other side of her. I stood back in the group with Peter, and my dad and mom.
"I'll have to ask you all to leave the room for a few minutes. Please go to the waiting room. When we're finished, I'll send a nurse to get you or I'll be out to chat with you," Dr. Stanley said.
Father Jim moved forward and whispered in Dr. Stanley's ear. He then spoke, "Please hold hands and join me in a prayer." The assembled group moved into a tight circle and joined hands.
"Almighty Father, we ask that you comfort your servant, Travis, and in Your infinite mercy, You find forgiveness for him. Amen."
I watched as Mrs. Mason, Chris and Brad went to the bedside and leaned in and kissed the pale man who was have increasing difficulty breathing.
Everyone quietly left the room.
To be continued...
"The measure of love is to love
Feedback always welcome: firstname.lastname@example.org
Thanks to Peter for his intelligent and sensitive editing along with his insightful suggestions which add much to the story. I also want to thank Alex for agreeing to translate from English to German, thereby assuring the best translation possible.
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