Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 06:09:29 +0000 (UTC)
From: follies71@att.net
Subject: 'Echoes From a Wishing Well'  Chapter 10

Ritch passed away.  The following is a chapter that he had completed but
not published.


All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or
are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language,
please exit now.

		    <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
		       "Echoes from a Wishing Well"
			 Copyright Ritchris, 2007
				  A Story
				    by
			     Ritch Christopher
			   literary enhancement
				    by
				Les Martin

			       <><><><><><>
				chapter ten
				<><><><><>

 It was the conclusion of the Saturday matinee in Boston. The entire
company was lined up across the stage singing the finale:

"DO"
      "RE"
            "MI"
                  "FA"
                        "SO"
                              "LA....DI...DA---!

"The lights went out and the curtain dropped while the audience leaped to
its feet with shouts of "BRAVO! BRAVO! BRAVO". The curtain rose as the
lights came back up and the cast took its curtain calls. The new changes
Art had put into the show during the week had polished the show into a
sure-fire hit. Smiles were on everyone's face...both on the stage and in
the seats. Art was not only, 'The Music Man', he was also, 'The Miracle
Worker', the two rolled into one.

No one was clapping harder than Trent and Angio. This was the first
Broadway production Trent had ever seen and he was speechless, not to
mention envious. Both he and Angio silently reaffirmed their dreams of
being on-stage one day in just such a wonderful musical.

The two boys had arrived in Boston late Friday evening still bubbling over
with joy after thrilling the faculty and senior class at the High School
For the Performing Arts with their rendition of Sondheim's 'Tonight' from
'West Side Story' with two males singing the duet of the star-crossed
lovers, Tony and Maria, but now it was Mario, not Maria. Some of their
peers may have been shocked, but the consensus was that the two were very
innovative with their creativity.

Florence Taggart, the school's music director, was more than merely
pleased. She had gone immediately to the registrar and asked that the two
boys be placed in the same section, permanently. Who knows what the two
little geniuses would be capable of producing, given the chance to work
together in class for the entire school year?

 During the taxi ride into the city from the airport, Trent had found that
Boston wasn't as big as New York, but it was still a big city, one which
neither Trent nor Angio had ever visited before.

They had checked into the Killebrew Hotel as scheduled, but without seeing
Art who'd planned on meeting their plane, but they were soon to discover
why Art hadn't met them. Art had talked with the Equity-deputy asking for
union permission to have a late night rehearsal after Friday evening's
performance as he wanted the show to be in tip-top shape for the two shows
on Saturday, both of which the boys would see, but in very different ways.

 Art had left written suggestions at the hotel desk for Trent as to where
to eat dinner, plus money for him and Angio to go to a sneak preview at a
movie theatre in the next block. He promised to meet them briefly for
breakfast and he wanted them to see his show Saturday afternoon as members
of the audience, but for Saturday evening's performance, without telling
them, he wanted them to stand backstage to watch the technical aspect of
the show, the scenery and how it worked and to see what was required of the
leads and the chorus people between the scenes and acts. Art also had made
dinner reservations for the three of them between shows.

The boys were disappointed that they wouldn't see Art Friday evening, but
they were excited to be on their own, looking forward to seeing the preview
of Meryl Streep in the movie version of 'Mamma Mia'.

 After the film ended, the two discussed it and Trent decided he'd liked
the movie, but felt that the score and lyrics were not written in the style
of typical Broadway musicals which he preferred. Angio suggested that they
go some place to get some ice cream.. When they saw a Ben and Jerry's Scoop
Shop, they went inside where Angio ordered a dish of lemon meringue ice
cream and Trent took a chance on a flavor called Chocolate Therapy, which
turned out to be a mixture of chocolate ice cream, chocolate cookies, and
swirls of chocolate pudding. Angio quickly scarfed down his lemon ice
cream, while Trent, still being a light eater, gave over half of his ice
cream to Angio.

The boys couldn't believe how quiet Boston was at night compared to New
York. They took their time strolling back to their hotel in a leisurely
manner and went up to the room which Art had reserved for them for the
weekend. Their room was on the eighth floor with a nice view of the
city. Each room had a small private balcony with two lawn-type chairs where
the hotel guests could sit, view, and relax. Their room also had two
queen-sized beds.

Angio turned on the TV which was loaded with premium channels: HBO,
Showtime, Starz, Cinemax, the works! Surfing, he found two gay channels,
Logo and Here!. The 'Here!' channel was showing a gay French movie, 'Grande
Ecole'. The shower scene was playing when Trent caught a glimpse of it.

 "Good heavens! What are you watching?" Trent asked, plopping himself on
the carpet in front of the TV set.

 "I don't know," Angio replied, but it's sure interesting!"

 "But look---those boys are naked and they're showing---well, all their
private parts!"

 "Wanna watch all of it? You can see it's in French with English
subtitles..."

 "Who cares? Who wants to read anyway! Gosh! Just look at them. That one
has an boner!"

 "And if we keep watching, we're both gonna be just like him!"

 "I just can't believe that they're showing this on television. Back home
in Tennessee, you wouldn't be able to even see the opening credits before
the Church of God had it shut off!"

 "The Church of God has that much power in Tennessee?"

 "Heck, they won't even show beer commercials on TV."

 "You make it soundd as if nothing has changed in Tennessee during the past
century."

 The scene on the movie soon changed where two boys were kissing. "Oh,
Lord! My Granny Dee would drop dead if she saw that on TV! Heck, the whole
town of Weston would drop dead!"

 "Don't kids in your school make out? I mean, ordinary boys and girls? They
do fuck, don't they?"

 "Only the girls with bad reputations. Most of the girls are good and won't
have sex until they're married."

 "Christ! The boys do jerk off, don't they?"

 "Well, I did...and I guess most of the guys do, but no one talks about
it!"

 "You said you didn't know whether you're gay or not?"

 "Yeah, I'm not sure, Angio."

 "I'll bet none of the boys in Weston know if they're straight or gay. From
what you've said, the whole town is virgin. Nobody knows what anybody
likes!"

 "Well, you said you didn't know about yourself either...and you're not
from Tennessee."

 "At least I've tried it both ways."

 "You've had sex with a girl?"

 "A couple."

 "What was it like?"

 "How graphic do you want me to make the details?"

 "Kinda graphic...but not dirty, if you know what I mean."

 "OK, I'll give the PG-13 version."

 "OK..."

 "Well, in your granny's kitchen, does she have a kitchen sponge?"

 "Sure. She has a natural sponge, one that came from the ocean in Florida."

 "Okay. Now imagine taking two sponges and pouring cooking oil all over
them so that they're oily and soppy. Then imagine putting your penis
between 'em and squeezing real tight. Now masturbate very slowly. That's
what fucking a girl feels like."

 "Shoot! That sounds gooey and messy..."

 "It not only sounds gooey and messy, it feels that way too!"

 "Well, in spite of that...did it feel good?"

 "What do you think?"

 "It doesn't sound very sexy..."

 "To me, it wasn't..."

 "You told me that you didn't really have sex with Ronnie. Have you had sex
with other guys?"

 "Want the truth?"

 "If we're gonna be friends, I don't want you ever to lie to me."

 "Okay. Yeah, I've had sex with guys..."

 "...uh...more than just...jerking off?"

 "Well....yeah..."

 "...uh...what did you do...?"

 "I...I've tried everything, once..."

 "I think I'm sorry I asked you that, Angio..."

 "I won't go into the details if it bothers you."

 "Well, since we're sharing secrets, I...I went farther than just jerking
off with Ronnie..."

 "I won't ask if you don't want to tell me, Trent."

 "I will say this...that my...well, my rear end is still virgin."

 "Okay, but you know you didn't have to tell me that."

 "I know, but I didn't want you to think I was as inexperienced as most of
the guys in Weston."

 "But you've never fucked a girl?"

 "Heck, no. I just had my first date about two weeks ago and I got kissed
once...but that's all."

 "In that case, I guess you'd better try sleeping with a girl before you
decide if you're gay or not. I mean, you might like the way a girl feels."

 "You mean...two oily sponges?" and the two broke up laughing. When he
quieted down, Angio said, "I said you might like it. I look at fucking
girls the same way I look at eggplants or artichokes. My mother says that
if you keep

eating eggplants and artichokes, you'll learn to like 'em. Me? Every time I
try to eat one, I usually throw up. I'm talking about eating vegetables,
not vaginas!"

 "I love eggplants and artichokes. We grow 'em on our farm...but I'm not
sure if I could put an oily sponge in my mouth...yuck!"

 "I will say, in the way of contrast, that when I went to bed with boys, I
didn't mind putting their things in my mouth. It's sure a far cry from a
oily sponge!"

 "Then I suppose you can guess I have, too."

 "You mean with Ronnie?"

 "Who else? I've never done anything with anybody else."

 "Were you 'turned off' by it? I mean, you didn't get sick or

anything?"

 "No, because Ronnie told me that it was just an extension of lovemaking!"

 "Ronnie was right."

 "Did you love the guys you did it with?"

 "No, Trent. I've never been in love."

 "It's the greatest feeling in the world, Angio."

 "Let me ask you something personal...if you want to answer..."

 "I'll try."

 "If you could choose between making love or standing on a Broadway stage
while getting a standing ovation...which would you prefer?"

 "Boy, that's a tough one to answer."

 "So? Which one?"

 "I'll tell you what! When I get my first standing ovation, I'll let you
know then, but not before!"

 Angio laughed. "Good answer!"

 "Are you ready to go to bed or do you want to watch more TV?"

 "I think we'd both better go to bed, Trent. Art will be knocking on the
door bright and early."

 "Gosh, look at the time---you're right!"

 Angio switched off the television and the two boys headed for the bedroom.

 "Are we sleeping in the same bed or separate ones?" Angio asked.

 "Separate! I don't want Art to think we're sleeping together as a couple."

 "Another good idea. However, if you get lonely, you do know where to find
me, don't you?"

 Trent smiled. "Yeah... I'll remember that."

 Angio had no qualms about being totally naked in front of Trent as he
stripped. "Since we're not sleeping together, I hope you won't mind if I
sleep in the nude..."

 "Shoot, no! I sleep that way too, to keep my Granny from having pajamas to
wash for me. I haven't owned a pair of pajamas since I was in diapers."

 "You don't get embarrassed when your granny sees you in the nude?"

 "She never does. I make sure I'm always covered if she comes in. How about
you with your parents?"

 "Oh, my parents don't care. They walk around in the nude all the time. So
I do the same. Nobody notices anybody...my mother, my dad, or me."

 "You don't try to hide your privates?"

 "Nope!"

 "Not even when you started sprouting pubic hair?"

 "Heck, no!"

 "My Granny doesn't even know I have pubic hair."

 "Why should she?"

 "I don't know, but I guess it's just my Tennessee upbringing. I think I'd
die from embarrassment if Granny ever saw me completely naked!"

 "Well, I'm not your granny! Are you gonna let me see you naked?"

 "Well, I suppose. Since I've seen you, you might as well see me..."

 Slowly Trent removed his clothes and placed them on a chair. As he crossed
back to his bed, Angio stopped him. "Wait a minute!"

 "What?"

 "Let me just look at you for a minute."

 "Why?"

 "Damn! You don't know how much you look like Ronnie without your clothes,
do you.  You two were identical!"

 "Yeah, I do know. Ronnie said the same thing!"

 "Amazing! Simply amazing!"

 "Seen enough? Ready for me to turn out the lights?"

 "Sure."

 Angio got into one bed while Trent turned off the lights and crawled into
the other. The two said good night and lay quietly in their beds for
fifteen minutes.

Then, "Trent?" Angio said in the dark.

 "Yeah?"

 "Uh... you feel like jerking off?"

 "I...I was thinking about it..."

 "Together?"

 "OK, but in separate beds...not 'together' together."

 "Okay."

 Both boys lowered the sheets and comforters and began to masturbate in the
dark room. Ten or more minutes later, each had reached his climax, each
listening intently to the pleasured moans and groans from the other. Then
each reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand separating the beds.

 "Feel good?" Angio asked.

 "Yes, plenty good!"

 Both boys cleaned up their individual messes and then pulled the covers
back up over their bodies.

 "Trent, can I ask one final question before we go to sleep?"

 "Yeah, sure..."

 "When you came just now, uh...were you thinking about Ronnie?"

 "Yeah," Trent whispered. He paused and asked, "What about you? Who were
you thinking about?"

 "You...you told me not to lie, right?"

 "Yes."

 "Well, then...I...I was thinking about you."

 Trent didn't reply or respond to Angio's confession, but he thought about
it a long time before falling to sleep.

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

At the theatre, that night, after the audience had left, all chattering
about the 'great show' they'd seen, Art worked with the company until 1:00
am.  Still not finished, he then kept the tech crew for another three
hours, rehearsing the new lighting scheme and scenery changes that were
necessary since he had switched around several scenes from their original
sequence to

make the show run in a more fluid way. When everyone else had left the
theatre, Art looked at his watch and saw that it was five o'clock.

 He remembered his promise to see the boys in the morning for breakfast,
but he was dead tired and knew he needed to rest. He phoned the hotel,
leaving a

message for Trent, apologizing and saying that he was going to sleep at the
theatre and would remain there until after the matinee. He wanted Trent and
Angio to meet him behind stage when the afternoon show was over.

 Trent and Angio slept late the next morning, not waking until eleven
o'clock. When Trent was completely awake, he suddenly wondered why Art
hadn't come by to wake them. He called the hotel desk to ask if he had any
messages and the desk clerk read Art's note to him.

 The two boys got up and showered, separately, got dressed for the
theatre's two o'clock matinee and went out to eat brunch. Walking two
blocks from the hotel, they spotted an IHOP and decided that was just the
place to satisfy their appetites. Angio ordered waffles, sausage, and
eggs. Trent ordered a bagel with cream cheese...just for the heck ofit. Why
not? He was a New Yorker now, visiting Boston!

 Their conversation at the table was light. Neither mentioned the
masturbatory confessions from the night before. First of all, it wasn't the
kind of thing one discussed in a public restaurant, but mainly, neither

wanted to talk about Angio's jerk-off fantasy.

Angio was deeply sorry he had told Trent that he was Angio's fantasy-lover
and Trent wasn't ready to handle a new boyfriend. A male 'friend', yes, but
definitely not someone to replace Ronnie in Trent's life. It was still too
soon for Trent to even think about a 'replacement'. Who knew?  Maybe it
would be a female that would come into Trent's life next.

 Finished with their late breakfast, they still had about an hour to kill
before the matinee started, so they found a CD store and headed toward the
'Broadway Original Cast

Recording' section.

Angio saw lots of titles he would've liked to add to his

personal collection, whereas Trent couldn't find one that Art or Ronnie
didn't already have.

 Angio kept picking up CD's to show to Trent. "What about this one?"

 "Got it!"

 "This one?"

 "Got it!"

 "Damn! Why did we come in here? You could stock a store from your home
library!"

 "I...well, don't laugh, but I wanted to see if there were any Sondheim
recordings that Art didn't have."

 "You're really hung up on Stephen Sondheim, aren't you?"

 "Angio, some day I'm gonna play the lead in every one of Sondheim's
shows. It'd be a real challenge. By the time I'm forty, I'll be old enough
to play Sweeney Todd...ha! Maybe even Pseudolus from 'Forum'!. What's your
dream role, Angio?"

 "Ah, I want to play Sky Masterson in 'Guys and Dolls'. Frank Loesser was
no slouch as a songwriter."

 "My favorite Loesser show is his 'Most Happy Fella'. It's close tobeing an
opera."

 "Maybe I can play Tony when I'm forty while you play Sweeney."

 "Deal!"

 "Trent, this is so much fun being with you. I mean, I can't thank you
enough for inviting me."

 "I like you too, Angio. And it's great to have someone to share it
with. Ronnie was the first boy I found that I

could talk to. Lord knows there were no kids in Weston I could talk
with. The guys in my high school wouldn't know Rodgers and Hammerstein from
Sears-Roebuck!"

 "How did you turn out so different from the rest of your friends in
Weston? I mean, how did you learn who Stephen Sondheim is?"

 "We had stacks and stacks of music in the high school music room...and one
day, I found the score to 'Company' and I'd never read such lyrics before
in my life. There's this one song that goes ninety miles a

minute about 'Not Getting Married Today' and I showed it to Mr. Simmons,
the music teacher and he asked if I'd like to hear the Broadway cast
recording. He put it on his CD player and I was stunned...to say the
least. I wanted to hear the entire score. When Bobby sang the final number,
'Being Alive', I had tears dripping off my chin. I'd never heard anything
like it...ever! Then I asked Mr. Simmons what else Sondheim had
written. Before the week was out, I had listened to 'Forum', 'A Little
Night Music', 'Follies', 'Anyone Can Whistle', 'Into the Woods', 'Passion',
'Sweeney Todd,' 'Sunday In The Park' for which he won a Pulitzer Prize, and
'Merrily We Roll Along'. I was totally hooked after hearing 'Company', but

for me, each show got more and more intense...more melodic...with more
intricate, more meaningful lyrics and rhyming patterns...and I decided,
then and there, that

no one could top him. Sondheim is a genius and there's never been anyone
else like him in musical theatre history. I'll bet you didn't know that he
won an Oscar for writing Madonna's song, 'Sooner or Later' from 'Dick

Tracy', didja?"

 "No, I didn't! Did he? Really?"

 "Now you know why he's like a god to me."

 "I think I'd better add more of his scores to my collection!"

 "Fair warning--if you buy one, you'll buy all of 'em. Of course I could
never afford to buy any of them before, and now...well, now, I have the
complete collection, thanks to Art...and Ronnie."

 "What time is it, Trent?"

Glancing at his watch, he replied, "Time for us to head for the
theatre. Art left us something called, 'house seats' at the box office. Do
you have any idea what 'house seats' are?" "Yeah, my folks got house seats
once. They're special seats reserved for cast members to give to their
family and friends."

 "I hope they're good and we can see everything! Damn! My first Broadway
show!"

 They rushed off to the theatre where they stood in line to get Art's
tickets. As they entered the lobby, Trent felt that he was entering a new
world, a world of music, of excitement, and love for the whole world. The
usherette checked their ticket stubs, handed them each a program and then
escorted them down the center aisle of the huge theatre to the sixth
row...two seats on the aisle.

        As he sat there, Trent looked around, awe plainly showing on his
face. The size of the house.....the lights....the well-dressed
audience. He'd never thought that such a place could really exist! But he
was here!

 "Wow!" Angio exclaimed. "I don't believe this! The best seats in the
house! Trent, this just keeps getting better and better!"

 "That's the way my life has been ever since I met Uncle Dean and Uncle
Cyrus. The only bad day was the day Ronnie was..." He stopped speaking and
Angio saw for the first time just how much Ronnie meant toTrent even now.

 Angio tried to cover the moment with a comment, but what he said really
didn't help. "Yes, that was a bad day!"

 "Gosh, I wish Ronnie could be here to see his dad directing his first
show."

 Angio touched Trent's hand in a quietly friendly manner and said, "Trent,
somehow I feel Ronnie is watching and that he knows all about it!"

 "Thanks, Angio. I have the same feeling."

 Soon the theatre was filled to capacity...mostly by women with shopping
bags...a typical Saturday matinee audience. The orchestra began assembling
in the pit and tuning their instruments. Finally the conductor entered the
pit, stood up on his podium, raised his baton and gave the downbeat for the
overture to begin as the house lights dimmed and the lights came up on the
velvet curtain. Trent and Angio couldn't see it in the dark, but both felt
the hairs on their arms rising. Their excitement

was incredible. The overture ended, the audience broke into applause while
the conductor took a quick bow, then turned to begin the music for the
first act as the curtain lifted.

 The show was flawless. All of Art's work with the company had paid
off. They were a cinch to be a hit on Broadway.

When the final curtain came down and the orchestra played the exit music,
Angio grabbed Trent's hand and pulled him to the side door. "Come on, we're
going backstage, like Art told you in his note."

 Angio opened the stage door where a man stopped them. "We're friends of
the director! Trent Matthews and Angio Marcano?" Trent said.

 "Oh, yeah.  Art said you'd be back.  Just stand by, willya? He's on stage
with the cast," the doorman said.

Trent looked for Art but couldn't see him for all the cast members and crew
surrounding Art with congratulations and kudos. Finally Art looked across
the stage toward the door and saw Trent and Angio. He made his way through
the cast and ran toward them.

 "Come here, my little Pavarotti, and give me a hug!" Art cried out.

Trent ran into Art's arms and the two embraced heartily. "God, am I glad to
see you, Trent!"

 "Oh, Art, the show is wonderful!"

 "Liked it, didja?" Art's face broke into a huge grin.

 "The greatest thing I've ever seen in my life, Daddy Art! I'm so proud of
you!"

 "E pluribus primitus!"

 "One from many!"

 "Nope, that's 'e pluribus unum'. 'E pluribus primitus' is the 'first of
many'!"

 "E pluribus primatus!" Trent proclaimed loudly.

 Angio walked over behind Trent to join the happy duo and Art noticed
him. "Angio, my boy! What did you think?"

 "I'd say you've got a hit that will run for years on Broadway!" Angio
said.

 "Then come here! I want to give you a hug, too, just for being so smart!"

 Angio almost cried when Art included him in the family scene. Yes, he knew
the director of theshow...personally! He couldn't wait until Monday to tell
his classmates at school.

 Some of the cast had turned to see Art embracing the boys. There were a
few whispers, such as, 'Isn't that Art's son? I thought he'd been..''Ssh,he
was!''Then who's that?' Soon everyone was looking at Art, Trent, and Angio
with puzzlement.

 "Guys! Gals! I want you to meet my new 'son' and his friend. Get a good
look at him because one day, you're gonna be working with him in a show!"

 Art took Trent over to introduce him to the leads and the chorus
kids. Some held out their hands, others gave him a hug. Angio couldn't
believe his eyes. The crowd broke up slowly, heading for their dressing
rooms to take off their costumes and makeup. Art told Trent not to go away

that he'd return in a couple of minutes to take him and Angio out to
dinner. Trent walked back to wait with Angio, who asked, "Trent, did Art
call you his son?"

 "Yep, and from now on, I call him, 'Daddy Art'!"

 "My gosh! You're practically a celebrity!"

 "No. Art is...but one day, I will be...and so will you!"

 "Wow! This is all so unbelievable!"

 "Believe it, Angio. I didn't at first, but now I'm just going along with
the tide!" Trent hugged Angio. "Wasn't the show fantastic?"

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

 Art had reserved a table for three at Garçon's, a nearby, rather
exclusive French restaurant. When the three were seated and were handed
menus, Angio started reading items in French as if it were his native
language.

 "You speak French? I thought you were Italian." Trent asked, somewhat
impressed.

 "My dad is Italian. My mother's French. At my house, you have to speak all
three languages because Dad will only talk in Italian and Mom, being
obstinate, will only speak her native tongue. I had to learn both

plus English just to know what the heck they're talking about. My dad
refuses to speak a word of French and vice-versa for my mother with the
Italian."

 "Good! Then I'll let you order my food. My only other language is
Tennessee hillbilly!" Trent joked.

 "You won't be speaking tha much longer, son," Art added. "A year at the
high school and you won't have a trace of your southern accent."

 "You wanna install a wishing well in my bedroom?" Trent asked wryly.

 "I think a tape recorder or an MP3 player will do the trick without
installing a wishing well." Art said.

 "What's all this about a wishing well?" Angio inquired.

 "I'll tell you all about it later, Angio."

 "You look tired, Art." Angio observed. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

 "I caught forty winks on a couch at the theatre."

 "Daddy Art, I thought you said the show was in bad shape..."

 "It was, Trent. It really was."

 "Until you took over---right?"

 "Modesty forbids me answering that in the affirmative, but let's say that
the cast follows my directions well. All in all, I'm rather pleased with
it."

 "So you won't be out of town much longer?"

 "It doesn't look that way. We can open when we were originally
scheduled...without the two to three weeks' out-of-town delay."

 "You must be proud!"

 "I am, Trent! I'm very proud."

 "I can't wait to call Uncle Dean and Uncle Cyrus to tell them."

 "Why don't we call them together after tonight's show?"

 "Oh, will Angio and I have the same seats tonight that we had this
afternoon?"

 "No...I'm afraid not."

 "It doesn't matter if we sit in the balcony. I don't care..."

 "I thought you and Angio would rather stand in the wings behind stage and
get a first-hand look at how a Broadway musical works."

 "Wow! When you mentioned that, I thought you were kidding?"

 "Might as well get to experience the whole kit and caboodle!"

 "Oh, brother!" Angio groaned. "No one at school is gonna believe
this. They'll all swear I'm lying!"

 "Tell 'em! I'll back you up!"

 "Ha! Who's gonna believe that your dad is directing the show?" Angio said.

 "Thank you, Angio," Art said, suddenly quiet.

 "For what, sir?"

 "For calling me Trent's dad."

 "I sorry, sir. I spoke without thinking...I mean..."

 "No, it's all right, Angio. I'll always have Ronnie in my heart, but Trent
is also going to be my son from now on."

 Art reached across the table to give Trent's hand a warm squeeze and
winked at Trent, though his eyes were moist.

 Trent smiled and said, 'Thank you," very quietly.

 "So how was the movie last night?" Art felt is wise to change the mood.

 "Meryl Streep was good---well, she's always good...but that's about all."
Trent replied. "The music sounded too much like rock and roll. Uncle Cyrus
would've walked out

after the first ten minutes."

 "In that case, I will too. Cyrus, Dean, and I still like the

old-style show tunes."

 "Like in 'La Di Da'?"

 "I wouldn't direct a rock musical even if I needed a job really bad."

 "I wouldn't sing a rock score, either!" Trent added.

 "Just another reason why I love you, son!"

 When the waiter came to the table to take their order, Trent gave Angio a
stern look. "Angio! I want chicken with mashed potatoes and green peas...so
don't go ordering me snails and or fried worms in French!"

 The waiter laughed. "I'll see to it that you get what you want, sir..."

 Purposely, just to impress Trent, Angio ordered escargot, poulpe à la
Grecque, and Calmars frits...which was actually typical dinner fare cooked
by Angio's mother, consisting of snails, octopus, and squid. In his mind,
Angio was imagining with glee the looks and groans from Trent when he saw
the French delicacies.

 Art chose the steak au poivre and pomme de terre with a bottle of light
wine.

 Once the waiter had left the table, Trent asked to be excused to use the
men's room, leaving Art and Angio alone.

 "Angio, how's Trent doing at school?" Trent asked.

 "Fine. He's made a big impression on most of the directors there, as well
as all our classmates."

 "Can I ask you something on the sly?"

 "Sure..."

 "How's he adjusting to Ronnie's death?"

 "Trent still talks a lot about Ronnie...sometimes in the present tense."

 "Have you seen him cry at all?"

 "Not really."

 "How much as Trent told you about his relationship with Ronnie?"

 "Only that they were in love," he said, hoping he wasn't betraying a
confidence.  "I assumed that, Angio. Just talking to Ronnie when he came
back from visiting Trent in Tennessee, I noticed a definite change in
Ronnie. He seemed more grown up and not as flighty as he had been."

 "I never saw Ronnie when he got back."

 "Do you mind my prying for a few minutes?"

 "Not at all..."

 "I knew all the nights you spent with Ronnie. I knew of Ronnie's raging
hormones and his need for sex. Forgive me, but I just assumed that you and
Ronnie were carrying on in his bedroom."

 "It wasn't as serious as you think. I mean, well, to get somewhat graphic,
Ronnie and I did masturbate beside each other, but it never went any
farther. We never kissed or engaged in oral or anal sex."

 "I suppose that's why he kept inviting you over to spend the night. Ronnie
was like a crusader. If he saw someone with whom he desired sex, he or they
would go to bed and have sex...and then, once Ronnie had conquered his
challenger, he'd shy away and never see that boy again. I

guess if you and Ronnie had gone further, he might have dropped you as a
friend, as well. He had a problem maintaining a friendship."

 "It's funny, but I had that feeling. I mean, it would have been easy to go
all the way with Ronnie, but I guess I too was afraid that would be the end
of our friendship and I valued that above sex."

 "Then suddenly he meets a total stranger in a strange place such as
Tennessee and he fell madly, deeply in love."

 "I'm glad he found someone to love before...well, you know..."

 "What about you and Trent? I mean, you two were alone in a hotel room last
night..." The question was implied, though not verbalized.

 "Ha! Don't think I didn't want to jump his bones...I could so easily see
why Ronnie fell head-over-heels in love with Trent. I could fall in love
with him without a warning...and I don't even know what it feels like to be
in love. But don't worry! Nothing happened between Trent and me last
night. He wouldn't even sleep with me in the same bed...though I did ask
him to. I think he felt as if he'd be cheating on Ronnie."

 "I'm glad that you and Trent struck up a friendship so

quickly. It'll help him to have a close buddy, especially when I'm not
around. But let me make this clear to you. If some strong feeling ever
arose between the two of you, I wouldn't object to it or love Trent any
less. He's young and he needs someone his age in his life."

 "Wanna know something funny? Neither of us are even sure we're really
gay. I mean I'm no virgin to girls or boys...and from what Trent has said,
Ronnie is the only male or female who's ever been in his life. He had one
high school date with a girl to a prom in Weston a few weeks ago. He said
he kissed her but that's as far as he went with her."

 "All I'm saying, Angio, is...if you and/or Trent decide that you're gay
and want to have a relationship with each other, first of all, if you have
sex, it has to be safe sex...and secondly, don't let sex interfere with
your

friendship. I'm heterosexual and there have been many women in my life and
I thought each one was 'the' one...and then I slept with her and couldn't
wait for her to get the hell out of my life. I suppose Ronnie and I were
alike in that way." "I won't press Trent's and my friendship, but all I can
say is that if I'm gay, I sure as heck hope I can fall in love with someone
like Trent. Oh, did you hear what the two of us did for the senior class
and the faculty yesterday?"

 "No, what?"

 "I...no, I'll wait and let Trent tell you all about it...but the two of us
did raise some eyebrows and drop a few chins all the way to the floor!"

 "My God! I can't wait to hear what the two of you did!"

 "It was Trent's idea and, for some stupid reason, I didn't see anything
wrong with it, so I went along with it...and it worked."

 Trent had overheard the comment as he came back from the restroom. "What
worked?"

 "Tell your dad what we sang at school yesterday..."

 "Oh, that!"

 "Yes, that!"

 "Well, we'd been asked to sing a solo or a duet..."Trent continued telling
the story to Art, who first smiled, and then broke out laughing with tears
in his eyes.

 "Damn! That was clever! You even kissed in front of the class and
faculty?" Art said when Trent finished the details. "Damn! What made you
think of it, Trent?"

 "Well, it was always my favorite scene in 'West Side Story' and it just
seemed right for two guys to play it...not for laughs, but for honest
drama!"

 "Dear God, I can't wait to get back to New York to tell Steve andArthur
how you re-invented their show. You know, it just might work as a revival
for maybe an AMFAR benefit--that's when we raise money for AIDS

every year. Christ! What originality, son!"

 "You don't think Mr. Sondheim and Mr. Laurents will mind?"

 "They both'll be tickled to death. I don't know why Paul or some other
producer hasn't thought of it before!"

 Then the waiter brought a huge tray to the table. He served Art's steak
first, then Trent, his chicken. Finally he placed three covered dishes in
front of Angio and lifted the lids from each. Trent's eyes got bigger with
each revelation of Angio's dinner.

 "My lord, that dish in the center looks like an octopus!"

 "It is, you ninny!"

 "You're gonna eat an octopus?  For real?"

 "To quote Al Jolson, 'you ain't seen nothing yet!'."

 "What on earth is that other thing?"

 "My dad calls it calamari, my mom calls it calmars, but I call it squid!"

 "...and that?"

 "What else? Snails!"

 "Oh, my lord! Look at my chicken. What's that black stuff oozingout of its
butt? Chicken do-do?, he whispered."

 Art was sipping water and sprayed the table when he laughed. Angio laughed
out loud, trying to compose himself long enough to explain that the 'black
stuff' was truffles.

 "Truffles? I thought truffles was chocolate. What kind of truffles are
these?"

 "In France and other European countries, people go looking for
truffles. They're very expensive."

 "Where do they come from? What animal?"

 "From pigs..."

 "Pig shit?"

 Art and Angio laughed again. "No---well, almost. Truffles are like
funguses or fungi that grow where pigs go to the bathroom..."

 "Then it is pig shit!...and coming out of the chicken's ass!"

 Art and Angio were wiping their eyes with their napkins. Neither could eat
a bite of his food from laughing so hard.The waited scurried over to see
what was happening.

 "Is...is everything all right?" he asked.

 "Not quite," Trent replied. "I..I was wondering if you serve bagels here?"

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Before dinner was over, the three males had
bonded even more tightly. Angio felt as if he had become an extension of
Art and Trent's new family. They laughed a lot between bites of food and
Art had poured each of the boys a half glass of wine. Angio was used to
having wine with meals at his house, but Trent became the slightest bit
tipsy...tipsy enough to at least try a bite of Angio's snails, octopus, and
squid. After tasting the truffles, he decided they weren't too bad. They
tasted like Granny's mushrooms. Then, after clearing the table, the waiter
brought a dessert tray with many choices of French pastries, and when Angio
couldn't make up his mind, Art told him to order two desserts if he could
eat

them. Trent refused dessert by saying he would try a bite each of
Angio's. Art just ordered French coffee with no dessert. He looked at the
two boys and settled back with pride. In many ways, Art had become a hero
to them and, anyway, he was still proud of the way the show had gone during
the matinee.

 When desserts were finished, with a bit more help from Trent than he'd
first expected, Art asked, "Is there anything either of you want?" Art
caught a slight languishing glimpse in Angio's eyes. "What is it, Angio?

You look as if you want something or were about to ask something..."

 "Well, this might not be the right time...or then again, it might be too
early to even consider..." Angio stammered.

 "Come on, Angio, say it!"

 "Well, I...I've known you a lot longer than Trent has..."

 "Yes...?"

 "I...you...well, you let Trent refer to you as 'Daddy Art'..."

 "Yes...?"

 "I was just wondering if it would be all right if I could call you 'Uncle
Art'?"

 "Angio, I wouldn't mind at all. If anything, I'd be honored, but why is
that important to you?"

 "I...Well, I just want to impress the kids at school that my uncle is a
Broadway director...and when 'La Di Da' opens and becomes a big hit, I can
tell everyone that that's my uncle's show."

 Art cracked a warm grin. "If you can get away with it, you can tell 'em
I'm your real uncle! Sure...nephew!"

 "Hey, Angio, that makes you and me first cousins, doesn't it?" Trent said.

 "Looks like it!"

 "My family just seems to be getting bigger and bigger---and better, too!"
Trent said.

 "Are you boys ready to get back to the theatre?"

 "Boy! Are we ever!" Angio exclaimed.

 "Just remember, don't get in the way. If someone tells you to move...move
quickly but watch where you're going! OK?"

 "Sure!" the boys said in unison.

 When they arrived back at the theatre, Art introduced his boys to Andy,
the stage- manager, and told them that Andy would show them where they
could stand and where they couldn't. In other words, Andy would babysit the
two teenage boys for the duration of the evening's performance while still
stage-managing the show.

 Trent and Angio wandered back stage near the dressing rooms, watching as
the dancers got into their costumes and applied makeup. The stage hands
were busy checking backdrops and fly-ins, ropes, cables,

computerized buttons, making sure all the technical parts were up and
running. Andy ran around to the leads' dressing rooms giving them last
minute notes which Art had given him...'during the third number, go
down-stage

two steps to make sure you're in the center of the spotlight'. To Trent and
Angio, backstage before curtain time seemed as busy as any New York street
at high noon...everyone rushing to attend to last minute matters,

including a final pit stop to pee before the curtain went up.

 Soon, the time was 7:30 and Andy called for the orchestra to take their
place in the pit. At 7:35, he called for the cast to take their places for
the opening. Three minutes later, the orchestra conductor took his place

and at exactly, 7:40, the overture began. While this music was playing, the
cast and chorus onstage were standing behind the curtain, quietly jumping
up and down or flailing their arms in the air or doing knee-bends in order
to awaken every muscle in their bodies and release the final feeling of
tension. The overture ended and everyone on stage froze until the curtain
raised. The lights came up.... and the first act began.

 Trent and Angio watched in awe for the next two and a half hours as

they saw backstage magic occur until the final curtain. Every drop, every
wagon, had raised or rolled exactly on cue. It was amazing. When a musical
number ended and the lights briefly went down for a change of scenery, the
cast hugged or quietly patted each other's butts, as if to say, 'Good
going!'. If one could use an old adage, you might say that the show ran
smoother than a Singer sewing machine. There were no glitches, no scenery
hang-ups, no lighting or sound miscues, no lines were dropped, no lyrics
forgotten, no dances misstepped. For the second time in one day, the show
was absolutely

flawless. If it had been necessary, the show was ready to open for the New
York critics tomorrow!

 Once again, the cast and crew were ecstatic and ran to Art to praise him
and to be praised by him. Art had only two regrets...first, that Paul
hadn't been in Boston to see either of Saturday's performances...and
second, Art would like to have seen George Claiborne's face after he had
seen what a Broadway show could look like...when it was directed by a
Broadway director.

 Art broke away from his cast to run and embrace his two boys, their hands
practically blistered from applauding so much. Art hugged Trent as if he
really were Ronnie. Angio pushed his way in to get his share of Art's
affection. Everyone was gone by midnight and Art, Trent, and Angio walked
back to the hotel, or maybe they floated...but only after stopping at Ben
and Jerry's, just to please Angio. The theatre was dark on
Sunday...everyone had a day off and it gave the three guys a chance to
spend the day together before Trent's and Angio's flight back to New York
at 7:00pm.

 When they finally reached the hotel, the boys took the

elevator to their room while Art headed to the hotel's bar for a night
cap. Trent and Angio were too filled with excitement to go straight to bed
and to sleep. In their room, they found that Art had called room service to
send some cokes and snacks up to the boys' room. They took off their good
clothes and hung them in the closet. Both were in their shorts and socks as
they each grabbed a coke, some Doritos and a bowl of dip and sat down in
the floor in front of the couch. Angio grabbed the remote and turned on the
TV and began surfing channels. He dialed through several news stations,
late sports, and about

a hundred channels showing infomercials, all selling

merchandise. Toward the end of the dial were all the premium
channels. Turner Classic Movies was showing Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney
in 'Babes On Broadway'. Angio put down the remote as they listened to Judy
sing, 'I Like New York in June...how about you...?'. Both he and Trent sang
along and continued to sing along, number after number, watching the movie

in its entirety.

 "Wanna watch another movie?" Angio asked.

 Trent didn't answer. He sat there watching the blank TV screen as if he
were in another world. Angio watched as Trent's face turned from a serious
look to one of deep sadness.

 "What's the matter, Trent?"

 No answer. The longer Trent sat, the more he looked as if he was about to
cry.

 "Hey, buddy! What's wrong? Tell me! Maybe I can help..."

 Then Trent burst into tears. He pulled up his knees to rest his arms and
put his face down on his arms, his tears uncontrolled.

Angio moved closer and put his arm around Trent's shoulders until he pulled
Trent around to face him and put Trent's head down onto his own
shoulder. Angio held him closely as Trent wept.

 "It wasn't that crazy old movie that made you sad, was it?"

 Trent shook his head and said, "No" through his tears.

 "Then what is it, Trent? You've gotta tell me!"

 Trent pulled his head back to face Angio only inches away. "It's just
that...none of this is right, Angio....none of it!" "What isn't right? You
mean us being here together?"

 "No, not that! It's just that...I don't belong here, Angio. None of this
should be happening to me. This should've been Ronnie's night...with his
own real dad. It should be Ronnie being proud of Art, not me! I...I don't
deserve any of this! I'm just a Podunk country hick from Little Town,

Tennessee. I...I made a fool of myself at that restaurant tonight. I don't
care about that, but I made a fool of Art! I wasn't ready to move to New
York. I can't go to school here where everyone knows so much more than I
do. I'm like a brook-stream trout in an ocean of salt water. It's a joke to
think Art wants me to be his son. I can't take Ronnie's place. I'm not
Ronnie. I might look like him, but I can never really be him. It's like a
big joke, a gigantic farce. It's like pretending I'm in a play twenty-four
hours a day and I keep asking myself, 'When does reality set in? When do I
become 'me' again? And who is 'me' anyway? Who am I? I'm nobody! That's
who! I...I wanna go home...back to Tennessee. I miss my Granny Dee and I
miss the farm with the wishing well. I can go back there, go to school,
maybe get into college and learn to be a music teacher like
Mr. Simmons. Who knows, I might even date Wanda Sells some more, fall in
love with her and have half a dozen kids!"

 "Trent! Stop it!" Angio murmured. "You're talking nonsense! You do belong
here with Art---and with me. I can't replace Ronnie in your life, no more
than you can

replace Ronnie in Art's life...but to me, you're not Ronnie. You're
Trent. You're Trent and I'm Angio. Neither of us is Ronnie!"

 "Yes, but..."

 "Will you shut the fuck up? I feel like slapping you sideways just to see
if I can knock you back to reality. Look at me! Come on, look at me!"

 "OK, I'm looking!"

 "Who do you see?"

 "I see you, Angio!" Trent's confusion was plain.

 "Good! Now come with me!" Angio grabbed Trent by the hand and yanked him
to the bathroom and stood him in

front of the mirror. "Now who do you see?"

 "Ronnie..." and the tears began again.  "No, you don't! You see someone
who looks like Ronnie, but you're not Ronnie! Say it! Say it!"

 "I...I'm not Ronnie." It was almost inaudible.

 "Say it again."

 "I'm not Ronnie."

 "Then who are you?"

 "I'm Trent Matthews!"

 "Say that again!"

 "I'm Trent Matthews."

 "And who am I, again?"

 "Angio Marcano..."

 "Now look at both of us in the mirror! You're Trent Matthews and I'm Angio
Marcano and neither of us is Ronnie Whitfield!"

 "I know that...I know, but......."

 "And where is Ronnie?"

 "What?" "Where is Ronnie...say it!"

 "Ronnie's dead..."

 "That's right. Ronnie's dead! Now put your hands on your chest and feel
your skin up and down. Come on--do it!" Trent ran his fingers up and down
his rib cage. "You feel that? You're alive! You're alive and Ronnie's

dead. As much as it hurts to say it, Ronnie is dead. Now feel my
chest. Don't be shy." Trent timidly placed his hands on Angio's chest,
right over his nipples. "Now do you feel me breathing? That's because I'm
alive too! Ronnie is dead, and it's terrible, but you and I are alive!!
Ronnie is dead and it's not our fault! Got it, buddy?"

 Trent bobbed his head up and down in the affirmative. "I...I'm so sorry,
Angio..."

 "Look, you idiot! I didn't mean to be quite so rough with you, but it's
time you started being yourself in New York, at the school, around Art, and
around me. Granted, Ronnie was a good friend to me, but I never felt about
Ronnie the way I feel about you!"

 "What do you mean?" Trent's face clearly showed his insecurity.

 "I don't have to draw you a picture, Trent! I bared my soul to you last
night when I confessed that I jerked off fantasizing about you. It's a
strange feeling, I know, but I have a big crush on you, you little
jerk. I've never had a crush on anyone before, male or female, and I don't

know how to handle it. I've told myself a thousand times during the past
week that it was too soon for you to feel anything toward me. I'm no dope!
I know you're still mourning Ronnie. Perhaps not as deeply as you, but I'm

mourning him too...but I can't mourn him for the rest of my life and you
can't either. Hell, if I thought you could fall in love with that Wanda
what's-her-name in Tennessee and raise a bunch of no-neck monsters as
Tennessee Williams called 'em, I'd say go to it. But if there's the

slightest glimmer of a chance that you might feel anything for me, then
I'll fight Wanda tooth and nail for the right to be your partner. Only
remember, Wanda isn't Ronnie either!"

 Trent took a long look at Angio and let Angio's proclamation sink in and
he understood completely. Suddenly Trent began to laugh quietly.

 "What's so funny?" Angio asked. "Are you laughing at me?" His voice held
an anger that had real depth to it. He'd just made himself completely
vulnerable.

 "No, not at you. I was laughing at something you said."

 "What? About my having a crush on you?", his defense obvious.

 "No...I was trying to imagine two oily sponges between Wanda's legs!"

 "You fucking idiot!" He felt weak in his relief.

 "I must confess the thought doesn't sound too appealing."

 "Well, in case you don't know for sure, I sure as heck don't have any oily
sponges between my legs...heck, not even one oily sponge."

 "I know you don't! Remember, we undressed in front of each other last
night."

 "We did, didn't we?Well, did you like what you saw?"

 "If I knew whether or not I'm gay, I might get turned on..."

 "I'm not sure about me either, but when I saw you, I sure was turned
on..."

 "You're kidding!"

 "Nope!"

 "Then you must be gayer than me..."

 "At least for the time being..."

 "Yes, at least..."

 "Trent? Could I ask you a big favor?"

 "I guess."

 "Yesterday and all during rehearsals this past week, either you kissed me
or I kissed you, but it was Tony and Mario..."

 "Yes...?"

 "Could I ask you if Angio could kiss Trent...?"

 "You mean a real kiss...between us?"

 "Exactly."

 "Well, one wouldn't hurt, I don't suppose."

 "Here and now...in the bathroom?"

 "Where else did you have in mind?"

 "Maybe.....in the bedroom.?"

 "All right, but you asked for one kiss, Angio...nothing more..."

 "I remember. That's all I asked for and I'll take what you'll allow me to
have."

 Once again, Angio led Trent by the hand, only this time it was to Angio's
queen-sized bed. Angio wanted to get everything just right...in case this
was the only kiss he would ever get, then it might have to last him a
lifetime. He placed Trent's head on one pillow and his own head on the
other, facing Trent. Then slowly, tentatively if not seductively, Angio
eased his bodyover to Trent's side of the bed until both heads were lying
on the same pillow. Angio placed his hand on the side of Trent's waist and

Trent felt the hand quivering.

 "Hey, are you nervous, Angio?"

 "Damn right. Nervous as hell."

 "Why, for goodness' sake?"

 "This is my first and maybe my last real kiss with you and I don't want to
fuck it up. I've dreamed a whole week about this and I suddenly feel like a
ten-year-old kid playing 'truth or dare' for the first time when he's been
dared to feel up another boy."

 "Gracious! Angio! You're much more experienced than I. I'm the one who
should be shaking."

 "Are you?"

 "Like a fig leaf in a hurricane!"

 "Why are you afraid, Trent? I told you why I was."

 "Because....I might find out how much I like you too."

 "You mean I might have a chance...a chance over what's-her-name...Wanda?"

 "Angio, will you please just shut up and do it?"

 "Sorry."

 Their lips barely touched at first. Both boys let out big sighs at the
same time and then they pressed more tightly into a full-blown passionate
kiss. Angio got extremely turned on and placed his left leg over Trent's

right leg...and as if it was an automated response, Angio started
dry-humping Trent's leg. Trent didn't resist. If this is what it took to
please his new friend, he'd indulge while still surviving. After all, Angio
hadn't said anything about having sex. The main problem was that both boys
briefs were bulging at the seams from enormous erections..and neither was
willing to let the other know. It was just a matter of waiting and kissing
to see if his erection went down before breaking off the lip-lock.

 The kiss lasted at least five minutes without a pause...and neither's
'problem' was going down. Their organs were hard as granite and no end in
sight until maybe next Christmas. They were both getting out of

breath and their mouths and jaws were beginning to ache.

Finally, it was Angio who pushed himself back away from Trent's lips.  "All
right! So you gave me a hardon! That's why I kept holding the kiss, I was
hoping it would go down...but it wouldn't!" Angio ranted.

 "You think the same thing didn't happen to me?"

 "Huh? Did it?"

 "Wanna see or feel it?"

 "I...I'll take your word for it," Angio said, playing the

gentleman.

 "What did you mean before by 'truth or dare'?"

 "Ah, it's a game little kids play when they get their friends to do things
they normally wouldn't do. You either have to tell the truth or be dared to
do something...usually gross or sexual."

 "And you mean ten-year-olds play it?"

 "Ten? I started at eight!"

 "I...I never even heard of it in Weston!"

 "If I were to ask you for truth or dare...which would you chose?"

 "Well, since I don't lie about anything...I guess you'd have to dare me to
do something I wouldn't normally do."

 "And would you do it?"

 "I would if it wasn't against the law or against my moral

principles."

 "What if I dared you to sleep with me in the same bed without any clothes
at all?"

 "If you meant just to 'sleep', I'd do it!"

 "Would you, then?"

 "You mean, tonight?"

 "It's our last night together in Boston..."

 "If it'll make you feel better and if you promise not to start

anything sexually."

 "Deal!"

 "Then let's go to bed. I'm really tired after two Broadway shows in one
day."

 Trent turned out the light and in the darkness, both boys slipped off
their underwear and socks and crawled into one bed. The room was quiet and
neither of the boys moved or said a word for thirty minutes. Then Angio

felt a strange hand sliding onto his thigh, and he said, "You made me
promise not to do anything!"

 "I know," Trent replied, "but you didn't ask me to promise!"

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

(To be continued in chapter eleven of "Echoes From A Wishing Well"...next week)

****AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had originally planned this to be one of my twelve
chapter stories as I refuse to attempt another "Briarwood" (112 chapters).
So I'm asking for your ideas. Do you want me to end "Echoes" as scheduled
for 12 chapters and out, or would you like me to carry the plot farther?
You can drop me a line at either RitchChristopher@cs.com or
RitchChristopher@comcast.net (I prefer the comcast address) and let me
know. I can write it or end it either way.

                                          Ritch


ADDENDUM:

Ritch passed away, but if any of his readers would like to comment, please
contact me at follies71@att.net