Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2001 02:20:38 -0500
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: an-ember-in-the-cinders

Usual disclaimer...All rights reserved. Copyright owned by the author. If
you are underage or offended by gay fiction containing graphic sex and
explicit language...leave now!


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

	No one could believe it. He was dead. He was so young...so good
looking...so talented. He had become the icon of our generation by his
performance in only one movie, we had seen in April,only a few months
ago...and
now, this, the second...with one to follow in the near future. It was Friday
night...November 1955, and the theater was packed. Us, guys, out of respect,
had all worn our red zip-up jackets, white t-shirts and white socks, and
black penny loafers. A lot of us had streaked peroxide in our hair...I
didn't have to, I was a natural blonde. We combed our hair back, slicked
down with Brilliantine to form "ducks" on the sides. Our girls had worn the
big skirts, covering about 10 crinolines, white puff sleeved blouses and
bobby sox, and brown and white saddle oxfords. I guess we all looked alike,
but hell, that was the rag.

	This Friday night audience had was different. Instead of the usual hubbub
and throwing popcorn across the movie house, it was replaced by a
solemnity...like we were sitting in the outer room of a funeral home...next
to the bier that held the casket. Few of us were even, talking...just the
faint sound of a few girls snivelling. I was sitting next to my best buddy,
Jake. He had his arm around his girl, Marsha. On my left side, I reached to
grab my steady girl, Jackie's, right hand and give it a squeeze, for
support. The lights began to dim. We held our breaths as the first chords of
Leonard Rosenman's magnificent music, blasted from the speakers. Warner
Bros. presents "Rebel Without A Cause", starring James Dean. Upon seeing his
name flashed on the screen, we broke into applause prompted by the goose
bumps that were tingling our bodies. This was our way of paying
homage...tribute...a memorial...to the god of the teens.

	For the next hour and fifty-one minutes, we sat there in awe and
reverence...a lump in our throats...fighting back tears...but it was
futile...they were going to stream down our faces no matter how brave we
were. We loved him.

	We had first become aware of him, just a year before, when a crowd of us
had seen him in "East of Eden"...the story of two brothers...one favored by
his father, and the other, always fucking up, trying desperately to get his
dad's love and attention. This was a character most of us, guys, had
identified with...even though we wouldn't admit it...to each other...or ever
to ourselves. Oh, our parents gave us most everything we wanted...we, too,
were going through a time searching or reaching for a way to communicate. I
had never said, "I love you" to my dad...or my mom, either, for that
matter...They had never said it to me. As we were watching the character of
Jim Stark, unfold in "Rebel"...the message was really hitting home. I had
found the love I needed from Jackie...and Jake...we all supported each
other, including Marsha.

	We were seniors at Central High School, in Chattanooga,
Tenn....popular...leaders of the pack. It had only been a month ago,
on Sunday, October first, that we had heard the news of the fatal crash
outside Chalame, California, involving a silver Porsche, containing our
immortal idol. As soon as the radio announcement had been confirmed, I
called Jake and told him to pick up Marsha and meet me at Jackie's house. I
didn't want to call Jackie and tell her about the horror, it would be better
to tell her in person, in case she needed my support. I needed her...and I
needed Jake.

	Dad had bought me an early graduation/birthday present...a blue and white
Chevy Bel Air, convertible. with the fins. I hopped in and drove toward
Glenwood Drive at break neck speed to get to Jackie's house. When I arrived,
she was standing on her porch. When I saw the look on her face, I knew, she
had heard. She ran to meet me at the car and rushed into my arms, sobbing.

	"Oh Chuck...it can't be true...it just CAN'T be."

	I held her and let her cry, while, tearing up, myself. About ten minutes
later, Jake and Marsha arrived. Jackie and I were still locked in a
supportive embrace in the driveway. When they exited Jake's Ford Fairlane,
Jackie rushed to hug Marsha. Jake came over and put his arms around me.
There was nothing unmanly about this. We were best friends...brothers...and
had been since the first grade.

	"Whose fault was it?", Jake asked.

	"I dunno. I heard some guy was drivin' on the wrong side of the road and
hit the Porsche, head on."

	"Fuckin' bastard...was he killed, too?"

	"I don't think, so"

	"I hope he was...and I hope he rots in hell."

	"Me, too. If he was at fault...and if he's alive...they'll put him UNDER
the jail."

	"They said that Jimmy had just finished filming his last scene in "Giant"
and "Rebel" was suppose to open sometime next year."

	"That means, it's gonna be a long wait, to see it."

	"Chuck, why the fuck, did this have to happen to him? I mean, what the
hell, did he do to deserve this?"

	"I dunno, Jake...it could've happen to any one of us."

	Jackie and Marsha came over to us and we all huddled together, arms around
each other. We all began to cry en masse. None of the four us, had brothers
or sister, so we had not only become boyfriends and girlfriends, we were
each's adopted sibling. We were a unit. We let no one in...we just sorta had
a circle of friends outside our inner circle.

	At school the next day, those that hadn't had a chance to talk about it,
were all abuzz. Those of us who had, maintained a sombre silence, in
respect. All but a few, Tommy McAfee, Wayne Cummings, and David
Lingerfelt...the school bullies were having a field day making fun of the
mourners.

	"The stupid faggot was probably drunk...serves him right.", exclaimed
David.

	"Shit, man, I ain't sad," chimed in Wayne, "He acted like he didn't know
his lines in "East of Eden."

	"Yeah, when you could understand what he was saying," Tommy added.

	Jake knew I was riled up and ready to attack. I looked at the three of
them, leeringly.

	"Why don't you guys can it?" I shouted. "The guy's dead. Show a little
respect."

	"I don't have to show no respect for a fucking faggot." David yelled.

	"Take that back, you son-of-a-bitch!" I retorted as I made a lunge toward
him. I swung my right fist, hitting him hard on the chin. He was taken by
surprise and toppled backward. Once he was down, I jumped down to straddle
his chest and began hitting him the face with both hands. I was ready to
kill.

	Jake tried his best to pull me off him. But nothing could stop me until he
had taken back his last remark...Then Wayne and Tommy joined Jake's effort
and grabbed my arms and stood me up.
David remained on the ground...blood spurting from his nose and mouth.

	"Hey, hey, Chuck...leave David alone...we're not all as in love with James
Dean as you are." Tommy said, trying to calm me down.

	"You want some of me, too?", I asked him.

	"No, man, but everyone is entitled to his own opinion."

	"That's true, so long as it don't offend someone else's."

	"Come on, Chuck.", Jake said to me. "Cool it...let's go or we'll be late
for Physics."

	"I want David to apologize."

	"He don't have to..."

	"This is not the end of this."

	"It's the end of it for now...Go on to class, faggot lover."

	That was all I need to hear. I attacked Tommy, flailing both fists at him.
Jake stood between us before I could make contact. Instead I wound up giving
Jake, a sock in the jaw.

	"Hey, man, I'm sorry." I said to Jake.

	"It's OK...but let's go...Please?"

	I turned with him and headed down the hall, leaving the enemy, standing
there staring at me.

	"You OK?" I asked Jake.

	"Fine, except for two loose teeth and broken jaw bone."

	"Are you really, hurt?"

	"No, but I could've been."

	"God, I hate those guys!?"

	"Who doesn't?...But you're never going to change their opinions...not
now...not ever...so why even try?"

	"Well, they can just keep their fucking feelings to themselves."

	Sure, I was angry. At home, later that night, as I got into bed...I began
to think over the actions of yesterday and today. I knew I felt strongly
about James Dean, but it was those three guys made me realize, just how
much. I lay there thinking, but subconsciously, I had lowered my right hand
beneath my pajama string to begin my nightly ritual. I always pictured
Jackie, naked, and me doing things to her. This was usually enough to get me
off...at least enough to go to sleep. But then I realized, once or twice, I
had gotten myself off thinking about James Dean. He was only a few years
older than me...twenty-four, he was. Did guys still beat off at twenty-four?
I bet he didn't. I bet he didn't have to. I bet he had lots of girls like
Natalie Wood to fuck him and give him blow jobs. I wondered how good he was
in bed with them. I wondered how big his cock was. I, no sooner, had begun
to think about him, having sex, that I shot off inside my pajamas..."Shit,"
I thought...I'd better take these off and go rinse them out before Mom finds
a cum stain, hardened and dried. I had never really thought much about other
guys and their sexual habits. In the eleven years that Jake and I had been
friends, we had never discussed sex. I often wondered if he jerked off...but
I didn't want him to know that I was a nightly participant in the art of
masturbation. That's something you just didn't talk about.

	One weekend, when Jake and I had gone camping up on Lake Chickamauga, I had
noticed the size of his dick when he woke up with a boner. But in those
days, guys just didn't look at each other. You just figured all men get
hard, but that's the way we are made. You get hard...fuck a girl...AFTER you
were married...and made babies.

	Jackie and I had never had sex. One night at the Starlight Drive-In movie,
I cupped her breasts while we were kissing, but when I tried to reach
beneath her blouse, she stopped me. I had even wandered up her skirt to her
thigh and almost got to her panties...but just almost. Another night, when
we had parked by the monument on Missionary Ridge, we got into a steamy
kissing session, and I had pulled her hand down between my legs. I wanted
her to know that she gave me a hard on. When she realized what I was doing,
she pulled her hand back and yelled, "Stop it! You know I'm a nice
girl...and you're suppose to be a nice boy."

	How did people wait until they were married to have sex? And why? It's what
was expected of us...We, all, abided by the same parental rules, taught to
them by the same Christian morals. Thank God, I still had my stack of
jerk-off magazines and three dirty novels..."Tropic of Cancer", "Lady
Chatterly's Lover", and "Forever Amber". I kept those well hidden. Even Jake
didn't know I had them. Speaking of Jake, I had beat-off one night, thinking
about him fucking Marsha...and her grabbing his cock and balls. I came
quickly during that session, too. I guess it was the idea of a girl being
that brazen...or was I thinking about Jake, being touched, where I wanted to
be touched? ...Naw, it must've been about her being so bold.

	I had almost had sex, one time. There was this girl, Jane Hodges, that put
out for every one. You didn't dare date her, for fear everyone in school
would know you were fucking her. She had a reputation of being a nympho. It
was rumored that her mother caught her in the bed with her fifteen-year-old
brother, and had had her put away at Silverdale, the asylum, for a month.
However, one night, after a City-Central game, there was a bunch of the
football players gathered around a car in the school parking lot. There was
an old 1946 Plymouth, four-door, sedan sitting there. The guys were lined
up, going in the back door, one at a time, as the previous guy was exiting
the door on the other side of the car. Jake had already gone to take Marsha
home. Jackie had gone home with her parents, and I was stag. I went toward
the "line" to see what was going on. I saw George Phillips, a tackle,
standing at the end of the line.

	"Hey George, what's going on?" I asked.

	"Hey Chuck, you wanna blow job?"

	"What??"

	"Sssh...Jane Hodges is in the back seat of Ron's car...giving blow
jobs...Get in line...if you want one."

	"I don't know...man, like what if I got caught...worse yet, what if Jackie
found out?"

	"Believe me, Chuck, no one in this line is gonna say nothin' to nobody
about who's gettin' blown by who...OK."

	The idea did sound exiting and appetizing. So I got in line, and waited,
until the next six, in front of me, entered one side of the Plymouth and
came out, (satisfied) from the other. There was only George, ahead of
me...and then it would be my turn. Finally, he went in...stayed, literally
about two minutes and exited. I pulled down the handle and entered...and
there was Jane sprawled out on the back seat. Her skirt was gathered up to
her waist. Her legs spread apart, and with what light there was, coming
through the window from the street light, I saw my first pussy. I got hard
instantly.

	She smiled and asked..."Fuck or a blow job?"

	I stammered, "I don't know."

	"Doesn't matter to me...I like 'em both."

	I was frozen, afraid to move or say anything.

	"Come on, whip it out, let me see what you got," she said as she reached
for my zipper, pulling it down with one snap of the wrist. She plunged her
hand inside my jeans to grab my erect and virgin cock, She was about one
inch from my buried treasure, when I suddenly climaxed and shot a wad of cum
all over her hand. She hadn't even touched me.

	Thank goodness she couldn't see how red my face was, as I tried to
apologize.

	"Jane, I'm so sorry..."

	"Don't sweat it...I'll just eat it off my hand," she said as she began to
lick my steamy sperm off her fingers."

	Without saying a word, I reached for the door handle and exited...pulling
up my zipper, as if I had just fucked Lady Chatterly. I hoped everyone and
no one was looking at me. That was my first "almost" hand job, blow job, and
fuck...all wrapped into one.

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	But meanwhile, let me flash forward to where we began...opening night of
"Rebel Without A Cause", November, a month later...

	When the movie ended...we sat there silently. No one moved. We had been
drained of every emotion we had built up, since that fateful night of
September 30, 1955...the night of the crash. I had loved the movie. I had
loved him in the movie...I laughed, I cried, I squirmed in my seat at times,
uncomfortably, cried some more...and a couple of times, I was surprised to
find I had sprung a boner, during the love scenes. I had never fantasized
about Natalie Wood...just Natalie Wood, doing things to James. I had had a
very strange sensation...when she was kissing him...I was sharing that
on-screen kiss with them...but I had assumed her role...I was imagining my
lips were touching his...not hers. This, I had never done before...or had I?
Did I have sexual feelings toward him or her...?  I could visualize my hand
touching him...not her. This was blowing my mind. How much damage had his
death done to my psyche. I was lusting after a guy...a dead guy...whom I
adored. This was the beginning of a restlessness I could seen to shake.

	Soon the lights DID come up and slowly the four of us arose and headed down
Broad Street to Jake's car. The four of us had all gone together in his
Fairlane. Marsha lived down on Battery Place, so she was the first we
dropped off. We rode silently, almost the whole trip. Jake got out, opened
the door and escorted her to her door, staying only long enough for one good
night kiss.

	Next on the route was a trip to Glenwood to take Jackie home. This was our
usual pattern when the four of us double-dated. When we got to her house, I
followed Jake's lead, taking her to her door with only a peck. I returned to
the car and got in the front seat with Jake.

	"Where to?

	"I don't know."

	"Shake Shake?...Hungry Hound...Oscar's Drive-In?"

	"No, I'm not hungry...I just need to think...that movie sorta tore me up."

	"Me, too."

	"God, he was great."

	"They all were...him...Natalie...and man, I almost cried when Sal Mineo got
shot."

	"I did cry," I said.

	"It was like he was in love with James...Were we suppose to read that into
the story?...I mean, can guys, love other guys?"

	"I don't know."

	"Hey, you wanna call you Mom and spend the night at my house?"

	"Yeah, I think I'd like that."

	We went through the Old Mission tunnel into Brainerd, where we both lived.
I called Mom...told her I was staying with Jake and I would see her
tomorrow. Jake and I did this a lot, and had done so, ever since we both had
had our driver's license. His mom and dad had already gone to bed.

	"Wanna Coke or something?"

	"Naw, I'm fine...thanks."

	"Let's go into my room and put on a stack of 45's...you pick 'em."

	"OK". I went over to his record player and chose some Sinatra, Rosemary
Clooney, Perry Como...he had a couple of a group called "The Platters". I
turned the volume way down, so not to disturb his parents...and began
listening to Rosie, singing, "Tenderly".

	Jake was already getting ready for bed.

	"Hey, you wanna borrow a pair of my pajamas?"

	"Naw, no sense in giving your mom something else to wash. I can just sleep
in my underwear."

	Since the only shirt I had worn to the movies was a white t-shirt, I
removed it son I would have something to wear in the morning. So I stripped
down to my Arrow briefs, folding my jeans, shirt, and red jacket and placing
them on his big chair. The room was almost dark since the only light was a
40 watt bulb in his bedside lamp. I noticed Jake getting into bed in his
briefs.

	"You not wearing your pajamas, either?"

	"No, I can rough it with you," he joked.

	I got into bed and lay side by side with him. We must have lain there three
or four minutes, both of us, silent...staring at the ceiling.

	"Chuck?"

	"Yeah?"

	"I been thinking about what I asked you..."

	"About what?"

	"You know, the way Sal was looking at James...do you think a guy could love
a guy?"

	"You mean in real life, or in the movies?"

	"Both."

	"I don't know."

	"Now, I don't want to get you all riled up and go to hitting me, but there
were rumors."

	"What kind of rumors?"

	"Rumors about Sal and James...off camera."

	"Where the fuck did you hear that?"

	"I heard my dad talking to Mr. Simmons about it. Mr. Simmons had read
something in one of those "Confidential" magazines."

	"Oh, you know you can't believe that shit."

	"But suppose it was true?"

	"I don't believe it...but I DO believe that Sal could find a guy like James
attractive."

	"Enough to have sex?"

	"Only his his dreams...but not in real life."

	"I'd like to tell you something, but I'm afraid you'll take it the wrong
way..."

	"What?"

	"Promise not to laugh or make fun of me?"

	"OK, I promise...now what?"

	"During the movie, tonight, I got a hard on looking at James."

	I smiled.

	"Now, stop it! You said you wouldn't laugh at me."

	"I'm not laughing at you...I'm laughing at me."

	"Why?"

	"Promise YOU won't laugh at me?"

	"I promise."

	I paused before saying, "I did, too."

	"You got hard looking at James?"

	"I said it, didn't I?"

	"Whaddya think that means...we're queer or something?"

	"Hell, no!"

	The record changed and Johnny Mathis started singing "The Twelfth of Never.

	"Can I ask you something else?"

	"Why not? I've already incriminated myself."

	"Do you ever jerk-off?"

	"What kind of stupid question is that?"

	"Well, do you?"

	"I use to, when I was a little kid." I replied.

	"But not any more?"

	"Oh, maybe some time when I can't get to sleep."

	"When's the first time you did it?"

	"When I was about thirteen or fourteen."

	"When's the last time you did it?"

	"I don't remember."

	"Last year?...Last month?...Last week?...When?"

	"Oh, maybe last week...I don't know."

	"What do you use to get off? A book? A magazine? Just dirty thoughts?"

	"Dirty thoughts, usually."

	"About you and Jackie?"

	"Mostly..."

	"Who else?"

	"Hell, man, I don't know...what do you fantasize about...you and Marsha?"

	"Sometimes...I use to...but that doesn't work any more."

	"What do you think about now...when you try to get off?"

	"This is embarrassing..."

	"Come on, we've been like brothers for nearly twelve years, surely we can
tell each other secrets."

	"I've thought about you...and Jackie...and you...and me."

	"What?...You turing faggot on me?"

	"No, I just sometimes think about you...I don't know why, but lately when I
go to bed and try to beat off, YOU keep popping into my mind...I lie here,
wondering if you're home beating off."

	"Don't you find it a little odd, that we've been close as thieves all our
lives and never discussed anything like this?"

	"I know...but are you angry I told you that I thought about YOU when I'm
masturbating?"

	"No, I don't know what to say about it...you took me by surprise."

	"Have you ever thought about me, like that?"

	"Hell, I don't know...maybe...a couple of times...a long time ago."

	"Why didn't you mention it to me?"

	"Because it's one topic I don't like to discuss."

	"Oh...I'm sorry..."

	"It's OK...now let's try to go to sleep."

	 He turned the lights out as "In the Still of the Night" came from the
record player.

	"Chuck?"

	"Yeah?"

	"I don't think I can go to sleep."

	"Why not?"

	"Talking to you about all this has made me so hard that my balls ache."

	"Well, go in the bathroom and beat off."

	"Aren't you a little hard, too?"

	"Maybe..."

	"Either you are or you aren't"

	"OK! I'm hard!! Whaddya want to do about it?"

	"This..."

	He reached over and grabbed my stiff cock through my shorts.

	"Hey, what are you doing?"

	"What I've been dreaming of doing for a long, long time."

	I swallowed nervously. What was happening...now?...after all these
years....Hell, we're not queers...why is he doing this...and why do I NOT
want to stop him?

	"Can I touch you?"

	"You might as well, before you poke a hole in my briefs."

	"Take 'em off...I wanna play and get this out of my system."

	"You're really serious about this, aren't you."

	"Yeah, you're the first thing I think of every night when I go to bed...I
don't know why...and I want to find out why."

	I reluctantly slid down my briefs and tossed them on the chair with my
folded clothes. He removed his at the same time.

	"Now what?" I asked.

	"Just lie there and let me discover why I am so fascinated by you."

	"It's your dime...go to it" I said as I stretched back putting my hands
behind my head, leaving my whole body vulnerable.

	"I wanna see...everything", Jake said, as he turned the light back on.

	He centered himself between my two legs and slowly reached for my penis. He
grabbed it firmly and began moving the loose skin up and down, covering my
cock head. With his free hand he cupped my balls.

	"Does this bother you?"

	"I'd be lying if I said it didn't...but it feels kinda good."

	"Want me to stop?"

	"No, I just want you to do whatever it is you want to do, and get it over
with, so we can go to sleep."

	With my qualified approval, he commenced his action...this time groping me,
more securely. My immediate thought was...if I should shoot...what then?
This had gone farther than I ever expected but...God knows, I would never
tell anyone what he was doing...and I'm sure as hell, he wouldn't. He bent
his head toward me and stuck his tongue to my glans. I trembled all over,
hoping he wouldn't notice. He continued to lick me like I was the flavor of
the month. He lowered his mouth, covering my whole tip with his lips. His
tongue was flicking all around the tip of my shaft.

	He didn't wait for my next concession as he suddenly lunged forward and
enveloped my whole cock in his mouth...his mouth reaching all the way to my
pubic hair. I gasped as if he had poured cold water on me. I had never felt
anything like this. It was unbelievably breath-taking. Then he began long
strokes, sucking me all the way down and almost all the way up. He was
squeezing my scrotum, intensifying the sensation. He was like a mad man. He
started to lick up and down, all over my balls...beneath my balls, where my
ass crack began...he probed between my ass cheeks. I wanted to stop him, as
Jackie had so often stopped my advances...but I couldn't. This was too good.
I began pushing my pelvis toward him rhythmically, to give his easier access
and to get more pleasure for myself. I was startled when he stuck a finger
in my anus and started to explore. He did this while his tongue began
trekking up toward my navel.

	If the light hadn't been on, and I could see that this was Jake...doing
these things to me...I wouldn't have believed it. He wasn't stopping...he
was plowing over my body like a freight train. He wanted to suck my
nipples...first one...then, the other...back to the first...to the
other...back and forth. His hand with which he was using a finger to poke my
ass, had moved to my cock and continued his jerking motion. His mouth was
approaching my neck and chin. Oh, God! I hope he's not going to kiss me.
Apparently God didn't hear my prayer, because in a split second, his lips
were pressing mine and his tongue was knocking for entry. I stopped my
resistence and let his tongue find mine. Tongue touching tongue was so
erotic. I pulled my hands from the back of my head and placed them on his
back to embrace him. He lay on top of me and began to grind his erect crotch
into mine. I started to respond...I realized he wasn't kissing me...I was
kissing him. What was making me do this...?  Had I turned queer in one
night...or had I felt this way a long time and never come to grips with it?"

	Before I could gather my thoughts, I moved my hand down between our bodies
and for the first time in my life, I was holding another guy's prick in my
hand...and I was jerking him off. I prayed for real this time...I prayed
that neither of us would say anything to break the mood...or the action. I
added my own cock to the grip and we dicks had become as one. I knew it was
only a few more moments before this scene would come to a halt with a
crashing climax...It did...as I shot my load all over my stomach, almost at
the same instant he joined me with his milk bath. We came and hunched and
writhed and kissed as if we were wallowing in mud...not caring how dirty we
got...or worrying about the dirty thing we were doing.

	We slowed down as the room which had been spinning was coming to a complete
stop. Our lips unlocked, so we could breathe. He continued laying on top me,
while our breathing returned to a normal rate. We both wondered who would be
the first to speak...It was I.

	"What did we just do?"

	"I don't know." he answered..."Did you like it?"

	"What's your next question...that one was dumb."

	"Are you mad at me?"

	"That's another dumb question...ask something more sensible."

	"Would you get mad if I told you I think I love you?"

	"That's the dumbest one, yet." I said, as I kissed him again.

	Just then, we heard the doorbell ring.

	"Sssh, what's that?"

	"Someone's at the door...Mom or Dad'll find out who it is...what time is it
any way."

	"Around two, I think."

	We heard Jake's mom and dad talking with someone at the front door.

	"Quick, let's put our shorts on."

	We made a scramble for our briefs about the same time we heard his mom rap
on his bedroom door.

	"Chuck?"

``	"Chuck?...Are you in there, hon?"

	"Yes...Mrs. Abrams, I called my mom and told her I was spending then night
with Jake...she knows where I am."

	"Can you come to the door, honey?"

	I reached for my jeans, putting them on as I raced toward the door.

	"Yes maam, what is it?"

	"Chuck, there's a policeman at the door. He's looking for you."

	"For me...for what?"

	"Honey, he said your house is on fire...your mom and dad have been hurt.
They've taken them to Erlanger Hospital. The policeman wants to take you to
them."

	"Oh my God, Jake will you go with me?"

	"Shut up...you know I will."

	We donned our t-shirts, socks, loafers, and red jackets...and dressed like
twin brothers...we got in the back seat of the squad car and headed toward
the hospital.


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As you can see, this story will be continued. In the meanwhile, I have three
other stories posted at Nifty. Two, in HighSchool...the first is entitled,
"that-was-then" and then, a continuation of the story with three inserts
that had been omitted, they are under the title "boy-in-the-band.
I, also have a story in the Incest section, called
"just-beyond-that-hill"......R.C.