College Daze (#11)

Chapter 01

(Kyle's Perspective)
       "I don't know," I said.
       We were in the den at Kevin and Rick's house. We were talking about college. I was a freshman, but I already had a bunch of credits. I had taken some Dual Enrollment courses in high school, and that meant I was already a second-semester freshman.
       "I say join 'em, man," Justin said.
       They had fraternities on that college campus, and some of my friends from high school wanted me to join one. It wasn't a national one or anything. It was just a local one. Beta Rho, the BR standing for Beach Rat. That's the kind of thing I'm talking about. Beach Rat Fraternity. A real class act.
       "Goodson, you gotta join," this one boy said to me. He was actually the president of the fraternity.
       "Why?" I asked.
       "Because we like you, and you're one of us, that's why," he said.
       That boy could use the Emerald Beach Grumble just as good as I could. I loved to hear that 'cause then I knew who was who. It was like a secret code or something, almost. I figured in that fraternity they talked like that all the time. It was better than a secret handshake.
       "Yeah, but I'm queer. You know that, don't you?" I said, grumbling back at him.
       "Yeah, everybody knows that. So what? You think you're the only one?" he said. "You're a Beach Rat, and that's what this thing is all about."
       "I'll get back to you, okay?" I said.
       "Okay," he said.
       I called my friend Philip Andrews that night. He and his partner, Ryan Pettis, were freshmen at Florida State in Tallahassee.
       "Kyle, you need to get your ass over here. These parties are un-fucking-believable, man," Philip said.
       "Are y'all having a good time?" I asked.
       "Yeah. We're having a great time. We went to several parties tonight. I'm about half drunk," he said.
       "Half?" I asked.
       He giggled.
       "Well, probably a little bit more than half," he said. "I mean, I got a real good buzz on. What do you want?"
       "I wanted to talk to you about joining a fraternity. You ever heard of Beta Rho?" I asked.
       "Yeah, that's the Beach Rat one. Those boys know how to party, Kyle. Both of my brothers belonged to that one when they went to Emerald Coast. If they're rushing you, you need to join up. That's the best one, man," Philip said.
       "I thought your brothers belonged to that one. They liked it, huh?" I said.
       "They loved it. I tell you what, son. If I was there, I'd join Beta Rho in a heartbeat, and I mean it, Kyle," he said.
       "Why did your brothers go to Emerald Coast, instead of Florida State right away?" I asked.
       "It was all about pussy. They each had a girlfriend they didn't want to leave behind. Neither one of them is with those girls now, but that's what they wanted. My parents wanted them to come over here in the worst way, but they wouldn't hear of it," he said.
       "What are y'all going to pledge?" I asked.
       "Sigma Chi," he said. "That's the one we like the best. Those are the nicest boys we've found, and they're pretty smart, too. Ryan and I are both out to them, and they don't give a fuck. They know we're a gay couple, and they don't care."
       "Congratulations, man. I'm a legacy to Sigma Chi. That was my daddy's fraternity at Florida," I said.
       "I know. He gave me a rec. He gave one to Ryan, too. My daddy was a Sigma Chi at Florida State, so I'm a legacy, too. Ryan's daddy wasn't a frat boy in college. But that's all right," he said. "Kyle, I think you need to join Beta Rho. A good many of those boys are going to spend their lives in Emerald Beach, and you and I are going to need them for business contacts. How many people they got at that college?"
       "It's only about six thousand," I said. "But it's all the same people I've known all my life. I mean, I realize Emerald Coast is a small college and most of the people who go there live here, and all, but I was hoping to broaden my horizons a little," I said.
       "That's a very good point, Kyle," Philip said. "I've only talked to one guy here who grew up in Emerald Beach, and I didn't know him. He went to Crawford High School in town, and he's a sophomore."
       "Where are the rest of them from?" I asked.
       "They're from all over the damn place. From all over the country and all over the world, too. A whole lot are from central and south Florida, but even most of them came from somewhere else. Ryan and I are rare things here since we're both native Florida guys," he said.
       "I probably have ten or twelve people in my classes we went to high school with, but not everybody is somebody I already know. A lot are, though," I said.
       "But you're going to know everybody in the frat, right?" he asked.
       "Pretty much. That's good and bad, though, you know? I mean, a lot of those guys are already my friends, and what you said is true. Most of them are going to be around here the rest of their lives. I don't know what to do," I said.
       "Yeah, but you'll figure something out. Listen, Kyle, I need to piss so bad right now, I'm about to bust. I think we're going to catch a couple more house parties, too, tonight, so I need to run," Philip said.
       "Okay, Bubba. I understand. Good luck in rush," I said.
       "Thanks, but I think it's a piece of cake," he said.
       We told each other goodbye, and I went out into the den. I had been in the study room talking to him.
       "What did Philip say?" Tim asked me when I got out to where they were.
       "He said he thinks I should join Beta Rho," I said.
       "What are your options, Kyle?" Rick asked.
       "What do you mean?"
       "Are other frats wanting you to join?" Rick asked.
       "Not really. I didn't even sign up for rush," I said. "Those Beta Rho guys just spotted me."
       "Do you really want to go Greek?" Kevin asked.
       "Go Greek? What the hell does that mean? Ain't that some kind of pervert stuff?" Justin asked.
       "'Go Greek' means join a fraternity, Bubba," Rick said. "It comes from the Greek letters of their names."
       "Speaking of that, why don't you join with me?" I asked Justin.
       "You're kidding, right?" Justin said.
       "No, I'm not kidding. If I can be in a frat, you can, too. It would be a chance for you to meet some nice guys. They know I'm gay, and they're cool with that. So you being gay ain't going to be a barrier," I said.
       "Jus, you really might enjoy it," Kevin said.
       "Were you and Rick in a fraternity?" Justin asked.
       "I was a GDI," Kevin said.
       "Me, too," Rick said.
       "I never heard of that one," I said. "What do the letters stand for?"
       "God Damn Independent," Rick and Kevin said at the same time.
       We all laughed.
       "A GDI, huh? I think that's what I want to be," Justin said. "But Kyle, I'll think about joining, okay?"
       "Fair enough, Bubba," I said.
       * * *
       I had a little bit of an "encounter" with my parents right before I started college. I had assumed I would work part time, just like Justin and Jeff were doing. I mean, everybody I knew, except my brother, had a part-time job in college, and I thought that's the way it was done. I knew it wasn't required by the college, but I figured that was what you did.
       "Your mama and I hope you'll quit your job when school starts," Daddy said one night in about mid-August. Tim and I were at their house in Destin.
       "Why?" I asked.
       "Because it's too much, that's why," he said.
       "Daddy, I feel like you're firing me, or something," I said. I was really confused, and a little bit hurt, too.
       "I'm not firing you, son. You don't fire good people, and you are definitely good people. We want you to devote your full time and energy to your studies, that's all," he said.
       "I don't get it, Daddy. Everybody I have ever known has worked part time in college, except Clay," I said.
       "Are Philip and Ryan going to work?" he asked.
       "No, sir, but their parents . . .," I said.
       I stopped in mid-sentence because it suddenly became clear to me. They didn't want me to work because it was a social thing for them. Me working sort of implied to the world that I needed the money, and I really didn't. In fact, I got a whole lot of money every month. Much more than I could spend, in fact. I mean, ever since I turned eighteen, I got like a very big salary or something, from my trust fund. That's what that was all about.
       "Finish your statement, son," he said.
       "Daddy, I don't think I have to. I know where you were coming from with that," I said.
       "Their parents are paying for them, son, and your parents are paying for you, too. You don't need a job," he said.
       "But, Daddy, I love to work. I like it a hell of a lot more than I do school," I said.
       "I know you do, but you see where I'm coming from, don't you?" he said.
       "Yes, sir, but this is fuc . . ., er, this is screwed up, don't you think? I mean, I want to work, and you're telling me I can't?"
       "I'm not telling you anything, Kyle. I'm asking you. And I'm not asking you not to work. I'm asking you not to work at a paying job," he said.
       "I don't get what you mean," I said.
       "Volunteer work is real work, Kyle. If you absolutely feel like you have to work, you can do a hell of a lot of good volunteering, son," he said. "Explore some of those avenues. Learn from it. I hope and pray you're going to take over Goodson Enterprises one day, but when you do, you're going to need a variety of experiences to be a really good CEO. Running a business like that is about people, Kyle. That's basically all it is. I've seen you interact with people, and you've got skills and charisma that other people don't have. I want to see you develop those skills, son, and being a bellhop ain't going to do it the way you need for it to be done."
       "What kind of volunteer work could I do?" I asked.
       "There's a whole host of things, son. The elderly. Meals on Wheels. Hospice. The Boys' Club. The hospital. The Boy Scouts. Hell, you'd be a natural in the Boy Scouts," he said.
       "I'm finished with the Boy Scouts," I said. "They don't want me, anyway."
       He sighed deep.
       "I know where you're coming from, Kyle, but that attitude is so wrong," he said.
       "What? My attitude or their attitude?" I asked.
       "Their attitude. Goodson Enterprises doesn't give them a dime anymore," he said. "We used to give a hundred thousand dollars a year to the United Way, designated for the Boy Scouts. Now we give them zero."
       "Who gets it now?" I asked.
       "United Cerebral Palsy, that's who. Guess why," he said.
       I laughed a little.
       "I don't have to guess. I know why," I said.
       "Yeah, I'm sure you do. I'm on their board, too," he said.
       "Gene, what does that mean? To be on an organization's board?" Tim asked.
       "Tim, it varies widely from organization to organization," Dad said. "Typically, it's the Board of Directors. Those are the people who legally control the organization. If the government grants 'tax exempt' status to an organization, they have to have a board of directors who run it. In practice, 99% of the boards I've been on have been rubber stamps for the executives who are in charge of the organizations. They try to get people in the community that they think will either donate money or get their friends to donate money."
       "Are you on a bunch of those?" I asked.
       "Yeah. I don't know the exact count, but it's in the neighborhood of fifteen or so. It's something I've got to do, Kyle, and it's something you'll have to do in the future, too. We're a very big business in Emerald Beach, and it's our moral responsibility to give back to the community. I'm already on about five boards in Destin, too. It doesn't take 'em long to find you," Dad said.
       "Are Kevin and Rick on any of these boards?" I asked.
       "Oh, yeah. They're both on plenty," he said.
       "I didn't know that. Did you?" I asked Tim.
       "No, I didn't," he said.
       "What kind of boards are you talking about, Daddy?" I asked.
       "It's a whole bunch, Kyle. Red Cross, Salvation Army, Boys' Club, Girls' Club, Big Brothers, Big Sisters. Your mama is actually on that one. YMCA. That kind of stuff. The only one I'm on that I take seriously is the hospital board. I was appointed to that by the governor, and that's important," he said. "That, and the College Foundation board. I take that very seriously, too."
       "I didn't know you were on the hospital board," I said.
       "Yeah. I have been for years. Bob Graham appointed me. Do you know who he is?"
       "Yes, sir. He's the man who got us the tickets to the basketball game in Washington, right? I remember Mr. Bob," I said.
       "Yeah, he got you tickets, Kyle, but I'm hoping and praying and working for him to be the next president of the United States, son. He's a good bit more than a source of basketball tickets," he said.
       "Fellas, I think I'm going to excuse myself and go to bed. I'm exhausted," my mother said.
       We all told her goodnight.
       "Daddy, I think you're making a little bit of fun of me," I said.
       "Come here and sit next to me," he said.
       I got up and sat next to him on the sofa. He put his arm around my shoulder.
       "Kyle, you and Tim are the future of this family. We've built something here that really does have national implications, son, and every bit of this is going to be all yours. Kyle, I really don't know what you know and what you don't know. But I know what you need to know, and I'm teaching you that. And Kevin and Rick are teaching you that, too. Tonight was the first time I've seen you bow up at me in a long, long time, son. Over that issue of working. You understand where I'm coming from, don't you?"
       "Yes, sir. Now I do. Do you think I could volunteer at the United Cerebral Palsy Clinic?"
       "Absolutely, son. I think they would welcome you with open arms," he said.
       "That's what I'm going to do, then," I said.
       We said goodnight, and we all went to bed.

(Murray's Perspective)
       I had only been with Kevin and Rick for a few weeks when school started, but I already had a whole different attitude about who I was. When I got there, I knew I was freaky looking. I cultivated that look and that way I acted. I was different because I was gay, and I wanted to be "out" as being different to everybody. I wasn't really ready to be out as gay, so I chose a way of doing it that was ambiguous, at best.
       Nobody at the house in Emerald Beach said anything to me about the way I looked or how I dressed. They took me to a fishing tournament the first night I was there. I mean, that was so not me, but I went because I didn't have a choice. It was a whole different world and social class to me, and I was definitely out of place. I figured I would hang out with Denny and his boyfriend, but I ended up with Tim and Brian, and Kyle and Justin, of course. Thank God it rained that night and we didn't stay there very long.
       And then we went home to their house. We all just stripped down to our underwear in the den. Kevin and Rick had on their clothes, but the other boys just got right down to underwear so the clothes we were wearing could be washed.
       "Come on. Get your clothes off. I need to put all those in the wash," Justin had said to me back at the house.
       I knew he was talking to me, but all I could look at was his crotch. He had on bikini briefs, pure white cotton with a contoured front, and, against his tan, I thought that was just about the sexiest thing I had ever seen. His bulge in those things was huge, and I could clearly see the outline of his penis. It was huge, too. That, coupled with a body out of a muscle magazine and a face off a billboard, made me hard as a rock. I didn't want to take off my pants.
       "Come on, Murray, man. These are your brothers here, dude. Have you got on underwear?" Justin asked.
       I nodded.
       "Come on then, Bubba, let's do it. Brian, help me out here, Little Buddy. Would you please?" Justin said.
       "You don't have to be embarrassed," Brian said. "I'll got upstairs with you to get some more clothes, if you want to."
       "I'm embarrassed," I said.
       "Why? Do you have an erection?" Brian asked. He was so nice.
       "Yes," I whimpered.
       "Are you wearing briefs or boxers?" Brian asked.
       "Boxers," I said.
       "Let's walk back to the laundry room to let it go down, okay? But Murray, I can tell you this on my honor as an Eagle Scout. Nobody around here cares if you have an erection. Nobody but you, that is. Just don't touch it, and nobody will care. Let's go to the laundry room, Bubba," he said.
       It took a few minutes for my erection to go down. We had orange juice in the kitchen while we were waiting.
       "Do you guys think I'm weird because of what just happened?" I asked.
       "What? Getting a hard-on? I'd think you were weird if you didn't get one," Justin said. "I get 'em. We all get 'em now and then. We just ignore them in public like that, though. That's a rule. No playing with Johnny-jump-up."
       Brian and I laughed.
       "He's telling the truth," Brian said. "Nobody cares and nobody plays with them when they happen in public."
       The thought of playing with my erection in public made me want to faint.
       "Thank you for taking care of me. I think I'm ready now," I said.
       The next morning Kyle took me over. Somehow I got a job working with Denny as a pool boy at a hotel. I didn't apply for it or interview for it. Somehow it just happened. When they told me I could keep the money, I liked the idea of working a lot more, but that was all a mystery to me.
       I had taken a shower that morning for the first time in several days and had put on clean clothes, but I felt really dumb in the personnel office. I noticed people smiling and winking at Kyle, and I knew that was about me. When I had gone to high school the year before, I had wanted to be part of the popular crowd. I just couldn't get that to happen, so I joined up with the Goth crowd, instead. I knew Kyle had been part of the popular crowd all his life, and it showed big time that morning.
       "Let's get you home and use all this shit we bought at Walgreen's," he said.
       He had bought me a razor, shave cream, deodorant, and a lot of other stuff. He made me sit down in front of a mirror at the sink so I could watch him shave my face and learn how to do it. Having him do that was way too much for me, and I ejaculated into my pants. I didn't say anything, and I don't think he noticed.
       Then he dyed my hair, and having him touch my head was also too much for me, and I ejaculated again.
       "Take a shower now, and use this antiperspirant when you're finished. Put some aftershave on, too. It'll make you feel way better. Give me your clothes," he said.
       I stuck my arm through the crack in the door to the bathroom and gave him my clothes. I expected him to say something about all the cum that was in my underwear, but he didn't say a word.
       "Hurry up," was all he said.
       I thought about him in the shower. He was absolutely gorgeous to me. He had dark hair, lots of muscle, and a face that was like a model. He had a hairy chest, which was a real plus for me. I jerked off in the shower thinking about Kyle. I wanted him so bad, not that I would have known what to do with him if I got him. He would have taught me, though. I had studied the profile of his dick through his bikini briefs the night before, and I knew it was ample. I wasn't exactly in love, but I was certainly in lust.
       "You ready?" he asked, when he came back up. He handed me some cookies and a coke.
       "Yeah, I guess so," I said.
       "You're looking mighty good, Bubba," he said. " Let's get that hair cut."
       * * *
       "Denny, I hope Kyle likes me," I said that night. We were on the patio, waiting to go out.
       "Of course he likes you. You're his brother now. We all like you," Denny said.
       "No. I mean I hope he likes me. Like a boyfriend," I said.
       Denny laughed.
       "What?" I asked.
       "Kyle's a one-guy man, and that guy is Tim, Bubba," Denny said. "Of course he's going to like you, but don't go there with the boyfriend thing. It's not going to happen."
       "Have I been stupid?" I asked.
       He laughed. "No, you haven't been stupid. I think every guy who has ever been here has had a crush on Kyle. On Justin, too. But I'm telling you. It's useless with both of them. They've got the boys they want," Denny said.
       We were quiet for a few minutes.
       "What made you think Kyle might like you?" Denny asked.
       I got embarrassed.
       "Did he say something or do something to make you think that?"
       "He made me come," I whispered.
       "He made you come? Really? Did he jerk you off?" Denny asked. I could tell he was really surprised.
       "No, he didn't jerk me off. He shaved me and that made me come," I said.
       Denny started laughing.
       "Why is that so funny?" I asked.
       "Were you in the shower together when it happened?" Denny asked.
       "No. I was sitting in front of the mirror in the bathroom, and he was shaving me so I could see how it's done," I said.
       "Murray, Bubba. I did exactly the same thing, only he and I were both in the shower. Naked. I came all over his leg," he said.
       "Oh, God! What did you do?" I asked. "Did he get mad at you?"
       "No, he didn't get mad. I started crying, though," he said.
       "Jesus, Denny. I would have died right there if that had happened to me," I said.
       "Well, Kyle was wonderful about it. He said that your first shave is a pretty strong masculine thing and that he should have shaved me with my clothes on in front of the mirror so I could watch what he was doing," he said. "He made it sound like it was his fault."
       "Did you jerk him off or anything after it happened?" I asked.
       "No, they don't do stuff like that. He wasn't even hard, in fact," Denny said, sort of laughing a little.
       "Have you ever seen him hard?" I asked.
       "Sure. I've seen everybody here hard, except Kevin and Rick. If you get hard, you're supposed to ignore it, and everybody else ignores it, too. And that's the truth," he said.
       I was hard just having that conversation, and I wondered if he was. I didn't dare ask, though.
       In a minute it was time to go back to the fishing tournament, so we left.
       * * *
       The one thing that amazed me was how casual they all were about being gay. I had told my grandmother that I was gay when I was thirteen, and she was very cool about it. I didn't tell anybody else, though, until I moved there. Everybody knew, though, because of how I acted. I mean, it wasn't an act. That's just the way I was, and I couldn't do anything about it. I got picked on a good bit in middle school, but things sort of cooled off on that front in high school, once I became a Goth.
       Everybody in the family was gay, and I expected them to call each other "girlfriend" or "Missy" or "girl" or something, like I had heard gay guys do in movies and on TV. They never did that. They were guys, not girls, and they really didn't even joke about it. They teased each other constantly, especially Kyle, Justin, and Rick, but it was never mean. It was sort of about being gay, but it was really more just about being a guy.
       We watched a lot of baseball, or they did, at least. But they talked constantly while they watched.
       "Damn, look at the nuts on that one," Justin said, referring to the bulge in the crotch of one of the players. Even I had noticed that.
       "Those ain't his nuts. That's his cup, dumbass," Kyle said.
       "What do you mean? His cup?"
       "They wear high-impact plastic cups in their jockstraps to keep from getting injured," Kyle said. "Shit, I thought everybody knew that."
       "I ain't played much ball, Kyle, and you know it," Justin said.
       "Shit, you've been playing with balls all your life," Kyle said.
       "He got you last, Bubba," Rick said.
       "I know, but that was a real cheap one," Justin said. "He'd have been playing with his, too, if he had any. He always played with marbles."
       "The balls were always in good shape, Bubba. I've just always rather play with the bat than the balls," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I've noticed all that resin build-up," Justin said.
       Even Kyle laughed on that one.
       "I need it for a good grip," Kyle said.
       "Y'all are embarrassing me in front of Murray," Brian said.
       I didn't think Brian or the others were paying one bit of attention to what they were saying, and I was sort of surprised he said that.
       "Are we embarrassing you, Murray?" Kyle asked.
       "No," I said.
       "Are we making you hard?" Justin said.
       I had felt a twinge or two down there, but nothing major. I just thought it was funny.
       "Justin!" Kevin said, sort of in a warning tone of voice.
       "I was teasing him, Kevin. Don't get on me. We're just having fun," Justin said.
       "I know you are, Bubba, but let's don't get too personal, okay?" Kevin said.
       "Okay. I'm sorry I said that, Murray," Justin said. "Who wants to go for a swim?"
       Surprisingly, they all said they did. The dogs must have understood that because they got all excited and went over to the back doors that led to the patio. Even though I had been working on the beach for a couple of days, I hadn't yet been swimming since I was there. I like swimming, and I wanted to go. I expected everyone to go upstairs and change into bathing suits, but they didn't. Then I thought maybe they kept their suits in the locker room in the clubhouse, and that's where they were going to change. I went toward the stairs.
       "You don't need a suit, Murray," Brian said. "We swim nude."
       I liked all of them, but Brian was the kindest one, I thought. I mean, they were all kind to me, but he seemed to go out of his way--he and Tim--to make sure I didn't feel left out or confused or anything.
       "But what if I . . . "
       "Remember what Justin and I told you the other night? If you get an erection, nobody's going to tease you about it. We all get them from time to time, and it's okay. What I do is just stay in the water when that happens. Of course, if you want to wear your suit, you can. In fact, I'll even wear one, too, so you won't be the only one," he said.
       I thought that was awfully nice of him, but I also thought it might be fun to go skinny dipping.
       "That's okay, Brian. I'll just watch for a little while, though, if that's all right," I said.
       "Sure it's all right," Brian said.
       "You just want to eyeball some dick, don't you?" Justin said.
       I knew he was just teasing me because he was wearing a full-face grin. And he didn't say it mean, at all. He was also right.
       "Buddy, don't tease him like that," Brian said. "He's brand new."
       "I think he's tough. I think he can take it," Justin said.
       "Justin's right, Brian. I am tougher than I look, and I can take it. And I do want to eyeball some dick," I said.
       That made both of them laugh.
       "See. This boy's already fitting in," Justin said. "Come on, Bubba. Let's go outside so I can show you some real dick."
       Justin went outside ahead of us.
       "God, he's soooooo cute," I said to Brian.
       "Yeah, he is, and he's mine."
       Brian didn't say that mean or anything like that, but he made it very clear how things stood.
       "I know, damn it," I said, and Brian laughed.
       It was still light out when they got in the pool, and I really did have a chance to see what there was to see. Tim and Kevin were both uncircumcised, which I found very interesting to see. The rest were circumcised, like I was, and they were all different. I was very surprised to see that Brian was as big as he was. I figured Kyle, Justin, and Rick would be big, and they were, but I think sweet, meek Brian had the biggest one. Denny was small, but that didn't stop him from stripping right down and diving in. I figured I probably fit somewhere in the middle in the size department, and that was a comfortable place for me to be.
       They looked like they were having such a good time. The dogs were in and out of the pool, and they actually seemed to be playing a game with Trixie. She was a sweet dog and not nearly as rambunctious as Krewe. They wanted to play volleyball, and they asked me to come in to make even teams.
       "Okay," I said. They all cheered, and that made me feel ten feet tall.
       I got undressed and turned to face my brothers for the first time. That was the first time in my life I had ever been outside naked, and it felt good. It felt natural, in fact. I thought they might have a comment or a whistle or something to tease me, but it was like I was fully clothed. I'm not sure they all even looked at me. At any rate, I got in the pool and paddled out to where they were.
       Kyle and Rick were the captains, and they were busy choosing up sides. I was on Kyle's side, and, for once in my life, I wasn't the last one chosen. Kevin was.
       That game was a real revelation to me. I sucked, of course, but so did Denny. The thing was, nobody got on to us when we missed a volley. Then I realized what was going on. They were playing to have fun, not to win or be macho or anything like that. When I realized that, it was like a ton of pressure had been taken off me. It didn't matter if I missed the ball. It did matter if I tried for it, though. They praised as many of my misses as they did the few times I got it over the net, but all they seemed to care about was that I tried.
       Our team was Kyle, Kevin, Brian, and me. The other team was Rick, Justin, Denny, and Tim. After we had been playing for awhile, four guys came out on the patio. They were grown-ups, but they were all young and very good looking.
       "Hey! Look what the cat drug in," Kyle said.
       A couple of those guys were drinking beers, and they were all grinning.
       "Y'all come in and meet your new brother," Rick said.
       They all stripped down to skin and started getting in the pool.
       "Murray, these guys are your brothers, too. This is Jeff Martin, his partner Tyler Jones, Chuck Jackson, and his partner Tony Miller. Guys, this is Murray Schultz," Kevin said.
       I shook hands with each of them, and they all seemed like really nice guys. Since they were introduced as partners, I figured they were gay, and I looked hard to see if any of them would be like me. But they weren't. But it didn't seem to matter to them that I was effeminate, and it was beginning to be less and less a concern to me, too.
       They wanted to know how old I was, where I was from, what grade I was in, what I liked to do for fun.
       "I don't know if y'all noticed or not, but y'all interrupted a game. I say we either finish the game or get out and get drunk," Kyle said.
       They all laughed.
       "Why don't we do both," one of the new guys said.
       "That's what I say, too," Kyle said. "Chuck and Ty, y'all be on my team. Jeff and Tony, y'all are on Rick's team. Are you cool with that?" Kyle said to Rick.
       "Hell, yeah. Let's play," Rick said.
       We played some more, but the game definitely changed with those new guys added. It got a lot more serious with the new ones. I noticed they didn't hit the ball to Denny and me nearly as much as they had before. I fact, I'm not sure I ever touched it once the new guys joined. We had notched up the athletics quite a bit. They still weren't mean about it when somebody missed a volley, but they kept it away from the ones they knew sucked. I, for one, appreciated that because that ball was coming over the net a lot faster and a lot harder than it had been coming before.
       I've always thought of a sport played in the water as sweat free. That night, I perspired in the water for the first time in my life. I got out of breath a little bit, too, but I noticed the rest of them didn't. I knew I was overweight, and I thought they might be able to help me with that. Being fat was just another reason to have people pick on me, and I thought that maybe they could help me lose some pounds.
       The best part of that evening happened after the volleyball was finished. I expected them to get out and get dressed, but they didn't. We just sat around on the patio naked, talking. The older guys, except Rick, drank beer, and Kyle brought out a couple of trays of food for us to nibble on. It wasn't really a party, but it kind of was.
       Some of them played a game where one guy put his palms up and the other guy put his palms down on the first guy's palms. The one on the bottom was supposed to try to slap the hand of the guy who had his on top, but the guy on top was supposed to try to avoid being hit by pulling his hands away real fast. It really looked like fun.
       "Goddamn it! You just broke my fucking hand," Justin shouted. He and Kyle were playing.
       "If you don't want your hand broke, then move it," Kyle said.
       "Now I can barely feel it, much less move it," Justin said.
       "Tough shit. My go again," Kyle said.
       If the bottom hands hit the top hands, he went again. If he missed, the turn changed.
       "If you hit me again that hard, Kyle, I'm going to kill you," Justin said.
       We all laughed.
       "Let's make it more interesting. A nickel a slap," Rick said.
       "What do you mean?" Justin asked.
       "Well, for every slap, you pay him a nickel. We'll each start with twenty nickels, and the man with the most at the end wins," Rick said.
       "Hey, that's a good idea. I like that," Kyle said. "Only trouble is, I don't have any money on me."
       "No? I think I just found me two," Justin said. He had reached down and had grabbed Kyle's scrotum.
       "Get your fucking hand off of that. That ain't nickels. That's what the bunny brought me for Easter," Kyle said. Everybody laughed.
       "I've got some rolled nickels. Let me go get them," Rick said. When he came back, he gave each of us twenty nickels.
       "Let's pair up. When the nickels are gone, you're out, and somebody else who still has nickels can take over your spot," Rick said.
       I paired up with Denny.
       "Don't hurt me, okay?" Denny said.
       "I don't think there's much chance of that happening," I said. "You don't hurt me."
       We had a great time playing that silly game. There was so much laughing and screaming and carrying on, I thought the neighbors would call the cops. But they didn't. We had a great time that night, and every one of us was stark naked.
       * * *
       That's the way it was for the two weeks before school began. I called my grandmother regularly, and I told her about how much fun I was having with those boys.
       "Oh, Murray, I'm so happy for my boy," she said.
       "Thanks, Nana. I miss you very badly, but I don't think I could have found a better place than this," I said.
       "I've been praying for you, Murray," she said.
       "And I've been praying for you, too, Nana. Do you think God hears Catholic prayers? Because that's what they are here. Catholics. At least most of them," I said.
       "Is the mensch a Catholic?"
       "Kyle? Yeah, he's a Catholic," I said.
       "God always hears the prayers of a mensch. You are on the road to becoming a mensch, and you must continue on that road, Murray."
       "I will, Nana. Now that I know what one is like. I will."

Chapter 02

(Justin's Perspective)
       I'm starting my second year of college, right? I'm still scared to death of it, right? Only this time, my buddy Kyle is coming with me.
       "What are you going to do when class is over?" I asked.
       "I don't know. Jerk off, I guess," he said.
       Everybody at the breakfast table laughed.
       "Is that all you know how to do?" I asked.
       I was using what they called the Emerald Beach Grumble, and I loved it. I had needed to have me that kind of talk all my life because that's the kind of guy I was.
       "No. I know how to be a bellboy, but that option has been ripped from my grasp," he said.
       "'Ripped from your grasp?' That sounds like you're some kind of poet or something," Justin said.
       "Yeah, that's what I'm going to do. Write poems and jerk off," he said.
       "I thought you were going to call UCP about volunteering," Rick said.
       "I did call them, and I have an interview for that on Thursday. The earliest I can start is next Monday. What am I going to do in the meantime?" Kyle said.
       "Why don't you get ahead in your classes. Read your textbooks," Tim said.
       "I reckon I could do that. Tim, I've got some meetings at night for Beta Rho, too," he said.
       "I figured you would. Go. Just come home to me, okay?"
       God, Tim and Kyle were a cute couple, and everybody in that house knew that Kyle wasn't going anywhere but Tim's bed. Those two were rock solid. No question about that. It was the same way with me and Brian, and with Kevin and Rick, too. Shit, I couldn't even imagine those two dating somebody else, much less fucking 'em.
       I had been working full time at the hotel during the summer, but I was taking twelve hours that semester and needed time to study. I wasn't a quick study like Brian was. For one thing, I didn't read very fast, and it took me much longer to read something than it took him. I read pretty good, though. I mean, I knew most of the words, and all, and I could usually figure out what the hard ones meant if I didn't already know them. I had been reading a lot since we got back from Disney World, and Brian kept a steady stream of books coming my way.
       One day at work right after school started, Mr. Gene came to see Mr. Rooney. He stopped at the desk to visit with me a little while.
       "How's it going at school, Bubba?" he asked me.
       "It's going good, so far. I had a quiz already in math, and I got a hundred on it. I'm thinking I might be better at math than I thought I was," I said.
       "That's good, but I think math is way overrated," he said.
       "What do you mean?" I asked.
       "Well, I don't know. I had to take all that algebra shit, and trig, and even calculus in college. You know how much I use any of that to run my business?" he asked.
       "No, sir, I don't," I said.
       "Not a goddamn bit, Justin," he said. "Now, don't get me wrong. I think people like Tim and Brian are going to need it when they become doctors, but guys like us don't need to use that shit. Justin, I ain't never, ever had to find x. You know why?"
       "No, sir. Why?"
       "I ain't never lost x, that's why," he said.
       I thought that was pretty funny, and he loved it that I laughed at his joke. He was the master of the grumble, and he was using it big that morning.
       "Mr. Gene, I haven't said this to you yet, but I want to thank you for taking such good care of me in giving me a job, and all," I said.
       "Forget about it, son. I need good people, and Kyle's going to need a good right-hand man someday. I consider all four of you boys my sons, and I plan to use your ass in the management of my businesses, just as soon as y'all move back here," he said.
       "Yes, sir," I said, "as long as that's the only way you want to use it."
       I saw on his face that he was thinking for a split second.
       "Oh, damn, Justin! You got me last hard that time, boy," he said. He and I both laughed.
       "Let me ask you something. Have you ever done any hunting?" he said.
       "Just that one time when we went," I said.
       "Did you like it?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir. I loved it," I said.
       "Well, let's do us some hunting this fall, okay? Mack Mixon tells me we've got us a first class bird dog in ole Trixie, and he says Krewe is coming along pretty good, too. It would be cruel not to use those two dogs to hunt. That's what they were born to do, and your boy's trained 'em up real good," he said.
       "I'm ready any time you are," I said.
       "You know, last year Kyle always had all that shit he had to do at school, and it was hard to find a weekend when we could get away. Don't misunderstand me. I was proud as I could be of what he did, but all of that was time consuming. I started my boys hunting when they were five years old, and it's been a way of life for us since then. We need to get back to that," he said.
       "Kyle told me one time he has this deep need to put food on the table that he caught himself. That's why he wanted to catch them crabs so bad. Now it's the lobsters. Those things are delicious, but you can buy 'em, can't you?" I said.
       "Yeah, you can, but I know where Kyle's coming from, Jus. I'm sort of the same way. I guess he got that from me. There's just something about sitting down to a meal that you're responsible for getting from the wild that's really satisfying," he said. "Maybe you'll get that same feeling one day. I hope so, anyway. Well, look, Jus. I came to see Jack Rooney. I need a favor from him, so let me go talk to him."
       "Okay. I'm ready to hunt whenever you are," I said.
       "I hear you," he said.
       He went off into Mr. Rooney's office. Stephen was loitering around us behind the desk.
       "Okay. So who was that hunk? Are you seeing him?" he asked.
       "Am I seeing him? What the hell do you mean?" I asked.
       "Oh, please, Justin. You know exactly what I mean. Are you fucking him?" he said.
       "No, I ain't fucking him. That's Gene Goodson. That's Kyle's daddy," I said.
       "Oh, my God! I was in the presence of greatness, and I didn't even know it," he said.
       I laughed, and he laughed, too.
       "I guess the two of you must be pretty good friends, in that case," he said.
       "Who? Me and Kyle?"
       "No, not you two. I know you guys are best friends. I meant you and Mr. Goodson," he said.
       "Well, he just told me he thinks of me as his son. Does that count?" I said.
       "Sweet Jesus! I can't believe your luck," he said.
       "If you knew the whole story, which you won't ever know, you'd know what an understatement of the year that was," I said.
       "Are they as rich as everybody says they are?" he asked.
       "I have no idea. We don't ever talk about that," I said.
       "You don't? Really?" he asked.
       "No, we really don't. I know they're rich, and I know Kyle's rich in his own right, too, but he never says a word about that. He's my best friend, and I love him almost as much as I love Brian. And I know he loves me almost as much as he loves Tim, too. But I'll never go there with him, and he'll never let me, either. And I know what you're thinking, and, no, there is no sex between me and Kyle," I said.
       "Amazing. I get hard just thinking about him," he said.
       "I know. I've noticed," I said.
       He was grinning, and I was, too.
       "You like me, don't you?" he said.
       "I do. I like you very much. I'm not attracted sexually to femme guys, okay, but I consider you one of my best friends," I said.
       He got a kind of sad look for a second, and then he broke into a big grin.
       "The same here. On both counts, goddamn it!"
       We cracked up.
       I don't know when Gene left because I didn't see him go out. I might have been busy in the back or something. In about an hour Mr. Rooney called me into his office. He had only done that two or three times since I worked there, and every time my bowels turned to pure water. It was all I could do to keep from gagging and throwing up, I was so scared.
       "Sit down, Justin," he said.
       I took a seat, all the while hoping my ass wasn't leaking a mess on his chair.
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "Mr. Goodson wanted to talk to me about you," he said.
       God, please no, I thought. At that instant I wanted me a cigarette so bad I was about to scream. I hadn't had one yet that day, but that was all I could think about. That, and being fired. I'm sure I showed it in my face, too.
       "Justin, calm down, son. Are you okay?" he asked.
       "I'm fine," I said.
       "You don't look fine," he said. "You look terrified."
       Come on. Just tell me what the fuck you got to tell me and get it over with, I thought.
       "No, sir. I'm okay," I said, lying through my teeth. I took a couple of deep breaths, and that seemed to help.
       "Justin, Mr. Goodson and I talked about the fact that you're in college full time now. We agreed you need time to go to classes and study. You can't work here full time anymore. You're going to continue to work here part time, but at full-time pay," he said.
       He said that mighty fast, and I had a hard time processing it. I didn't know what he meant, exactly.
       "Would you mind saying that again?" I asked.
       He grinned a little bit.
       "You're going to work here part time and get full-time pay for it," he said.
       That time I understood what he meant.
       "I can't take full-time pay for that," I said.
       "Jus, you know Jeff Martin, don't you?" he asked.
       "Oh course I know Jeff. He's one of my brothers," I said.
       "Jeff doesn't work here at all when he's in school, and he gets full pay. That's the way Mr. Goodson wants it. Jeff also gets a company car. You'll get full pay when you're in college away from here and can't work. You guys are very special to Gene Goodson," he said. "I wouldn't ask any questions, if I were you. I'd just take the money and run."
       "Yes, sir," I said. "Is that all?"
       "That's all, Jus. And, by the way, you do a hell of a job for us," he said. "Keep this to yourself around here, okay?"
       "Yes, sir," I said. "I will."
       When I left his office, I was so excited I was about to bust. I was aching to tell somebody, but the only one of us working there right then was Chuck.
       "Knock, knock," I said, at Chuck's cubicle entrance.
       "Hey, Jus. What's up, Bubba?" he said. He was all smiles and happy and shit, like he was glad to see me.
       "I just got a promotion, I think," I said.
       "All right!" he said.
       He took me out to lunch to celebrate, and we didn't eat in the employees' cafeteria, either. We went to Applebee's, and we had us a nice lunch. I didn't tell him the details because I had promised not to, but he guessed it. He and Tony were Jeff and Tyler's roommates, and they knew the score with them. I guess that was the way Mr. Gene did it with Kyle's brothers.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Like much of Florida, Emerald Beach was a growing community. Every year hundreds of people moved to our town. The growth was putting a strain on our infrastructure, and they were building new roads, new schools, new housing developments as fast as they could to keep up with the influx of new residents.
       We lived in a relatively upscale neighborhood. The houses on our side of the street were on waterfront property, and the cost of that automatically dictated both the kind of houses that would be built there and the relative affluence of the people who bought those houses. In the house immediately to the west of us was the Crawford family, and their sons, Morgan and Blake, were regular fixtures in our home. We were all pretty sure the boys were straight, but nobody had a definitive read on that. Morgan and Blake, and Blake's best friend, Riley, were always there with us. The boys assured us they knew we were all gay, and if that didn't matter to them, it certainly didn't matter to us that they were straight.
       In February of that year, they had started building a house on the lot immediately to our east. There were huge oak trees on that lot, and the developer had made it a point of preserving as many of them as he could. When they started building the house, we would sometimes go over there and scope it out. It was going to be a two story, and it appeared that there were four bedrooms and two baths upstairs and a master suite downstairs. It was going to be a very nice house.
       "They started moving in today," Kyle said one night.
       "How do you know? Did you see 'em?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah. I was out back reading, and I heard a big truck pull up. I got on some shorts, and I went to check 'em out," Kyle said.
       "So, what did you see?" Tim asked.
       "I saw a moving van and some movers," Kyle said.
       "Did you see the people?" Tim asked.
       "Yeah. I saw two boys and two men. They looked like the ones who were moving in," he said.
       That was a Wednesday of the last week of August. Our boys were already back in school, and I wondered if those boys moving in next door were school kids.
       "How old were the boys, Kyle?" I asked.
       "I don't know. They could have been any age. They were teenagers, I think. I don't know," he said.
       "Were they cute?" Justin asked.
       Kyle grinned. "Yeah, they were, actually. No erections in sight, though," he said.
       "What'd you do? Get out binoculars?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah, I did. So what?" Kyle said.
       We all laughed.
       "I knew it. You scoped those boys out, didn't you?"
       "Yeah, I did, Justin. So fucking what, man?" Kyle asked.
       "So fucking nothing, Kyle. I'd have done the same thing, and you know it," Justin said.
       "I know. So why are you getting on to me?" Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, shut up. You always want to argue with me, even when we hold the same point," Justin said.
       Kyle just grinned. Sparring with Justin was one of Kyle's many hobbies, and we all knew it.
       On Friday night, Kyle said, "I'm making coffeecake for the new neighbors for tomorrow morning. I skipped the jamboree tonight to do it."
       Tim, Brian, Denny, and Murray hadn't skipped the jamboree, and Justin and Kyle were the only boys home that night.
       "Come give me a hand, Davis," Kyle called from the kitchen.
       "I guess I'm fixing to get a lesson in how to make a coffeecake," Jus said, as he left the room. "You can buy those, you know," he said.
       Rick and I laughed at him. Justin was the pragmatist of the crowd. If you could buy it, why make it or catch it yourself? Kyle was the opposite. If you can buy it, you can also make it or catch it yourself. Kyle wasn't above buying prepared food, by any means, but he seemed to have a code of rules about what you could buy and what you had to make yourself. I basically agreed with Justin, but I wasn't a cook. Rick basically agreed with Kyle, and Rick had been a cook in a restaurant.
       "Kyle doesn't really need any help," Rick said.
       "But he wants company, don't you think?" I said.
       "Yeah, and they're probably slurping beers back there, too," Rick said.
       "Is that so bad?" I asked.
       "No. Of course not. Would you like a beer or a drink?" he asked.
       "A beer might be nice," I said.
       He got up and got me one.
       "Yep, they were drinking beer," Rick said. "But they're baking, too. I think we're going to have several coffeecakes tomorrow morning. And they're playing, too. Justin had flour all over his face. They're having a great time."
       "Have you ever known those two not to have a great time, no matter what they did?" I asked.
       "No, not really," Rick said.
       * * *
       The next morning we were all in the den, as usual for a weekend morning.
       "I've got some nice coffeecakes in there for the new neighbors. Let's take 'em over to 'em," Kyle said.
       It was about ten o'clock, and that was late enough to go calling, I thought. Denny had plans to hang out with some of his debate friends, and Murray was going with him. They were supposed to go to the main branch of the public library in town to do some research, and there was an Internet cafe/coffee shop they wanted to check out, too. There were a bunch of very interesting shops and galleries in the so-called "arts district" downtown, and Denny and Murray and their friends wanted to investigate those, too. One of the older boys was picking them up, so they couldn't go meet the new neighbors.
       "Look at you, Bubba," Kyle said to Murray. "You're looking mighty good in those new clothes."
       Murray blushed a little, but he beamed at the compliment.
       "Let me get some pictures of you," Kyle said.
       Kyle kept his camera bag as close to him as he kept his scrotum, and he was always ready to pull a camera out in an instant. He had upgraded to a really fine digital camera, and the quality of his pictures had increased in proportion. He had discovered a company that specialized in printing digital photographs, and he was getting some unbelievably good pictures back in the mail. He emailed the company the file, after he had worked on it using his digital picture editing software, and a few days later poster-size photographs would arrive in tubes in the mail.
       "I want you to look pissed off in this one," Kyle said.
       "But I'm not pissed off," Murray said.
       "GODDAMNIT! I SAID LOOK PISSED OFF, YOU LITTLE FAG," he screamed.
       Murray's face went through a hundred different expression in a matter of seconds, and Kyle was snapping pictures as fast as he could. Murray finally realized what he had just done, and he calmed down.
       "You're not really mad at me, are you?" Murray asked him.
       "Of course I'm not really mad at you, but it worked, didn't it?" Kyle said.
       "Kyle, that sucks, man. I was fixing to call you out over that," Justin said. "Why'd you hurt his feelings like that? That ain't like you, man."
       "Did I hurt your feelings, Murray?" Kyle asked.
       "No, but you pissed me off," Murray said.
       "And what did I ask you to do?" Kyle asked.
       "Look pissed off," Murray said. "Did it work?"
       "It worked big time, Bubba, and it pissed him off, too, didn't it, Justin?"
       "Yeah. Did you get some of me?" Justin asked.
       "Yes, I did," Kyle said. "Watermelon Seed."
       "Are you talking about that picture of me with that seed on my dick?" Justin asked.
       "What the hell else you think I'm talking about. That one sold, by the way," Kyle said.
       "Really? Who bought it?" Justin asked.
       "How would I know? I just know there are guys jerking off to that picture every night, all over the world," Kyle said.
       "Goodson, you are so full of shit, I can smell it from here," Justin said.
       "Did you just figure that out?" Kyle asked. He and Jus were grinning and laughing.
       "No. I've known it a long time," Jus said. He grabbed Kyle in a headlock.
       "Get off me. You're going to fuck up my camera," Kyle said. Justin turned him loose. "Let's get the baked goods next door before somebody gets into a fist fight here."
       "I know the kind of fist fighting you're interested in," Justin said, laughing.
       "Yeah? Like you ain't?" Kyle replied. They both laughed some more.
       * * *
       There were six of us in the pastry delivery squad, and each of us had a coffeecake. The one I had was still warm, so I assumed Kyle had baked it that morning. The aroma in the house that morning was unbelievably good, and he had put out two warm ones for us to eat. One that we ate was cinnamon flavored with a really thick glaze on top, and the other one had dried fruit in it, also with a thick glaze. They were delicious.
       We pressed the doorbell and heard it ring inside. We had the dogs with us, but we were prepared to send them home if our new neighbors appeared not to want canine visitors in their new home.
       The one who answered the door was one of the boys, and he was stunning to look at. He had deep blond hair, blue eyes, and a face I knew Kyle would want to photograph. He was about our height--5'10" or so--and he was very well defined in the muscle department. He had on shorts, and that was all.
       "Hi. We're your neighbors from next door, and we brought you some goodies to say welcome to the neighborhood," I said.
       "Hi," he said. "Come on in."
       He opened the door wide for us to go in.
       The dogs were hanging back, not wanting to go in.
       "Will the dogs come in?" he asked.
       "Yeah. Come on, girls," Brian said, and the dogs followed us in very calmly.
       "I'm Wade Spencer," the boy said.
       We all introduced ourselves. Wade's eyes were as big for us as ours were for him. He was a real specimen of boy, but we were packing our share, as well.
       "Dad, Jimmy, Reid!" he called out. "We've got company! It's the neighbors," he called out.
       I heard somebody thundering down the stairs, and it was another boy. He was shirtless in just shorts, too, and he was just as good looking as Wade was. He had dark hair, though, and it was pretty obvious he hadn't shaved in a day or two. He had some hair on his chest, and I could see the top of a very nice treasure trail down into his shorts. Neither boy fit the "muscular" description, really, like Justin did, but both of them were toned and very well defined.
       "This is Reid Kenner," Wade said.
       Again, we shook hands and introduced ourselves.
       "Where do you live?" Reid asked.
       "Right next door," Kyle said. "That way." He pointed in the direction of our house. I noticed there wasn't a trace of the Emerald Beach accent in Kyle's voice. I wondered how he did that.
       "That's a nice place," Wade said. "We noticed it already."
       "Thanks," Rick said.
       Two men came into the foyer just then. They appeared to be in their mid- to late-thirties. Maybe early forties. They both wore smiles.
       "Dad. Jimmy. These are our neighbors," Wade said.
       We shook hands and introduced ourselves. "Dad's" name was David Spencer, and Jimmy introduced himself as Jimmy Spencer, too. I figured they were brothers, although they didn't really look alike. I wondered if Reid's last name was Kenner, or if that was his middle name and he used both.
       "We brought you some coffeecakes," Kyle said. The accent was back.
       "Oh, wow. These look wonderful," David said. "Please come in, have some coffee, and help us eat some of these."
       Their house was really nice. They had an enormous room that was a combination family room, dining room, breakfast room, and kitchen. It was all open and light. I judged it had twelve-foot ceilings, and there was glass all across the back of the house to take advantage of their view of the lagoon. We took seats, and the dogs flopped down near Brian.
       "These dogs are very well behaved," Jimmy said.
       Krewe barked a bit when he said that, and Brian told her to hush. She did.
       "They're well trained, too," Jimmy said. "Did you do that?"
       "This is the dog man, right here," Justin said, indicating Brian.
       "Are you and David brothers?" Rick asked.
       I was curious about that, too. They had the same last name, but the boys, their sons, apparently didn't. Jimmy and David each wore wedding bands that were identical to the plain gold bands that Rick and I wore. I wondered if they were in the same kind of relationship that Rick and I were in.
       "Er, no," Jimmy said.
       David came back in with a platter of coffeecake cut into individual servings, and one of the boys was with him with a tray of coffee cups and cream and sugar. David set the food down and went to get a pot of coffee.
       "We're not brothers," David said. "We're partners."
       He and Jimmy had rather apprehensive looks on their faces, waiting for our reactions. The boys were looking at our boys for their reactions, too.
       "So are we," Rick said.
       "You mean . . . " David started to say.
       "He means we're gay, and Rick and I are partners for life," I said.
       The four new neighbors lit up in big grins.
       "Us, too," Kyle said, indicating him and Tim.
       "Same with us," Brian said of him and Justin.
       "My God, this is uncanny," Jimmy said. "I mean, what are the odds that we'd move in next door to a gay couple in a place like Emerald Beach? And with gay kids, too."
       "Gay family," I said. "We have three foster sons who are gay, and these three guys," indicating Kyle, Tim, and Justin, "are honorary foster sons."
       "Reid and I are a couple, too," Wade said.
       "No shit?" Justin asked.
       "No shit," Wade said.
       "I want to hear this story," Justin said.
       Jimmy and David chuckled.
       "It's not too complicated," Jimmy began. "Dave and I both got married very young and our sons were born within a month of each other. I knew I had a strong attraction to men from the time I was a young teenager, but I thought I could beat it. You've heard that story a million times, probably. Well, I couldn't. After about three months of marriage, sex with my wife got to be more and more of a chore, one that I finally stopped doing altogether after a year. She confronted me about our relationship, and I came clean. It was a very amicable parting of the ways. Fortunately, I was able to stay in college, and then law school, and my parents paid child support on my behalf."
       "My story is about the same," Dave said. "Only, I didn't get to finish college. Not then, anyway. I did eventually, though."
       "How old is everybody?" Kyle asked.
       Ordinarily, I thought that question would have been rather impertinent, but, under the circumstances, it seemed natural.
       "Dave and I are thirty-six," Jimmy said, "and the boys are seventeen."
       We all told our ages, too.
       "We've been together for sixteen years," Dave said.
       "And we've been together since June," Wade said.
       We all told how long we had been together, too.
       "Wade and I have known each other a long time, but we just recently came out to each other," Reid said. "We were both living with our moms, but now we're going to live here with our dads."
       "Cool," Kyle said.
       "Are you guys seniors?" Tim asked.
       They said they were. They had actually already started school at Beachside, but they had taken Thursday and Friday off to help with the move.
       "I think you're in one of our classes," Wade said. "Do you take AP English?"
       "Yeah, I do," Tim said. "Cool."
       We spent a couple of hours getting acquainted with our new neighbors. We told them the saga of the Foley-Mashburn Clan and about our jobs. Jimmy was a lawyer and Dave was a CPA.
       Our four kids and their two kids seemed to hit it off immediately and very well. Wade and Reid both had an athletic inclination, but neither of them played sports for school. They had been there all summer, visiting their dads. They had worked at a fast food place in town, and they had finally acted on the strong attraction they had had for each other since puberty.
       "Are you each other's first boyfriend?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah," they said, grinning at each other.
       They were really cute kids, and I knew they'd be at our house a lot.
       * * *
       "Those were nice guys, weren't they?" Rick said, once we were all back at home.
       Kyle was in the kitchen making lunch for us, although I had eaten so much coffeecake I wasn't sure how much lunch I really wanted. He called us into the breakfast room. He had set out cold cuts, lettuce, tomato, pickles, chips, condiments, and sliced bread for us to make sandwiches. We all got busy fixing our plates.
       "I think it's going to be fun having those guys next door," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I guess it will. They're both real cute, aren't they?" Justin observed.
       We all agreed they were.
       "Cut or uncut?" Kyle asked. "I definitely think uncut."
       "I don't know, Bubba. They sort of acted cut to me," Justin said.
       "Acted cut? Do you think circumcision has an effect on personality?" I asked.
       "Yeah," Justin and Kyle said in unison.
       They sometimes startled me with some of their ideas, and that was definitely one of those times.
       "I'd like to hear more about this," I said.
       Tim, the only other uncircumcised one there, said, "Yeah. Me, too."
       "It's nothing bad. It's just a feeling I get, that's all," Kyle said. "Sort of like gaydar, although I don't have much of that. I didn't know they were all gay until they said it."
       "I didn't either," Justin said. "I'll bet these two knew, though," meaning Tim and Brian.
       "I suspected it right away," Brian said. "And it's nothing I can put my finger on. Did you know, Tim?"
       "I suspected it, too. More about the two boys than the two dads, though," Tim said.
       "Me, too, Tim," I said. "I noticed the way Wade looked at the four of you when he opened the door. That's what tipped me off. That, and the eye contact he used."
       "Do people think that about us?" Justin asked.
       "Do you care if they do?" Kyle countered.
       "Not especially. I'm just curious, is all," Jus said.
       "I don't think they do, Jus. At least, I've never noticed anybody getting that 'ah, hah!' look on their faces when they see you for the first time," Rick said. "And I've watched for it, too."
       "That gaydar is a curious thing to me," Kyle said. "I can see how it would be real useful if you were out looking to pick up somebody. It might save you a broken jaw or something."
       "I've done some reading about gaydar," I said. "One theory is it grows out of the basic human need for association."
       "What does that mean?" Kyle asked.
       "Well, everybody wants to be associated with other people. You know, to have friends and all. It's no different for us. And most people prefer to hang out with people who are like them in some significant way. Like your fraternity, Kyle. All the beach guys want to associate with one another, so they started Beta Rho," I said. "I love our straight friends to death, but I feel a lot more relaxed and comfortable when we're with our gay friends."
       "So it's like guys develop gaydar unconsciously as a way of knowing who potential friends are?" Brian said.
       "Yeah, something like that. I naturally assume that a stranger is straight, unless he says or does something to make me think otherwise," Rick said. "I don't necessarily mean act effeminate, because none of those guys next door act that way. But, did you notice Jimmy and Dave both wore wedding rings but there weren't any women around? That tipped me off right away, and the same last name."
       "Yeah, what is that about?" Kyle asked.
       "Some gay couples do that," I said. "Some use hyphenated last names, too. That's probably more common, though."
       "My daddy would have a fit if I changed my name," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I really don't recommend it, Bubba," I said. "There are too many buildings around here with the name Goodson on them. Think of all the new signs that would have to be made."
       Kyle chuckled, and the others smiled.
       "I read about electronic gaydar, too," I said, getting us back to the subject.
       "What's that?" Justin asked.
       "It's a little thing you put on your key chain, kind of like a remote car-door opener," I said. "It sends out a radio signal, and somebody else in the room who has one, too, can pick it up. I think it's sort of a novelty item, really. Those things could be potentially dangerous, I think."
       "Why dangerous? I would think they would come in handy for somebody who wants to score a date," Brian said.
       "Well, think about it, guys. Let's say you're a gay basher and you want to practice your hobby. That would be a great way to identify gay men in an otherwise straight location, don't you think?" I said.
       "Good point," Brian said. "I guess I won't get me one after all."
       "What do you mean, get you one?" Justin demanded. There was a slight edge to his voice.
       "Don't get mad. I was just teasing," Brian said.
       "I know you were, but I don't like for you to tease me about stuff like that, Little Buddy," he said.
       "I'm sorry," Brian said. "I won't do it anymore. I love you, Justin."
       "And I love you, too, Brian," Justin said.
       "Oh, my God! My gaydar's going off big time right now," Kyle said.
       "Shut up, Kyle," Justin said, but he laughed along with the rest of us.
       "Does anybody want to water ski?" Kyle asked.
       "Let's ask Wade and Reid if they want to ski, too," Tim suggested.
       "Good idea," Kyle said. "They might be busy unpacking, though, but we can try."
       It turned out Wade and Reid were unpacking, but their dads let them ski with their new friends. I was really looking forward to getting to know our new neighbors.

Chapter 03

(Kyle's Perspective)
       It wasn't even Labor Day, and we had already been back in school for a solid week. My classes didn't seem like they were going to be super hard, and I was pretty excited about an art course I was taking. It was in photography.
       "Mr. Goodson, would you see me after class, please?" the professor said the first day.
       "Shit, what did you do?" Justin asked.
       I had really encouraged him to take that class with me. I loved taking pictures and working with them almost as much as I liked having sex, and I was hoping I could turn my brother and best friend on to photography, too.
       "I didn't do anything. He probably knows my daddy or some shit like that," I said.
       I went up to him after class.
       "Sir, I'm Kyle Goodson. You wanted to see me?" I said.
       "Ah, yes. Kyle. I'm Harry Potter," he said, sticking out his hand to shake mine.
       "For real?" I said.
       "Yes! For real. It's actually 'Henry,' but I've gone by 'Harry' all my life. Now those wretched books and movies have come out, and I've taken a huge amount of ribbing for my name," he said.
       If that man didn't play for my team, nobody else in that college did, either.
       "Kyle, I wanted to talk to you because I understand you're quite a photographer," he said.
       "Yes, sir. I don't know if I'm quite a photographer, but I love it. And I take a lot of pictures, too," I said.
       "Well, the word around here is that you're a professional," he said.
       "No, sir. I worked at a hotel all summer," I said.
       "Have you ever made any money off your pictures?" he asked.
       "Well, yeah, from the gallery. And the book, too, I guess," I said. "But I don't do, like, weddings and stuff like that."
       "The gallery and the book? Where is this gallery?" he asked.
       He was trembling a little bit, and I thought the man was fixing to be sick on me.
       "Don't worry. It's not here. It's in New York City," I said.
       "You're in a gallery in New York City? Oh, my God! I knew about the book, and I even have a copy of it. But I didn't know about the gallery. You're every teacher's worst nightmare, Kyle," he said.
       I was totally befuddled. I hadn't always paid the best attention in class, but it had been many years since I had been sent to the office for misbehaving. In fact, I got all the way through middle school and high school without a single discipline referral, and I was proud of that. I was always very respectful of my teachers, too. I was raised to be a good kid, and I resented the fact that he thought I was his worst nightmare. Besides, I figured if he dreamed about me at all, it was going to be a wet dream, not a nightmare.
       "Kyle, I can see by the look on your face that I've offended you, and that was the last thing I intended to do. I'm sorry," he said.
       "How come I'm every teacher's worst nightmare? I'm always respectful. I don't argue. I do what I'm told," I said.
       "Kyle, that was a terrible choice of words, and I didn't mean it that way. I take that back, and I wish I had never said it. What I meant was, your accomplishments in photography already so far outstrip mine that I'm afraid you won't learn anything in this course," he said. "Have you ever studied photography? I mean as an art form?"
       "No, sir. I worked with a local photographer to learn darkroom, but that's all," I said.
       "I know you have. He's a very close friend of mine, and he's the one who alerted me to you. He's thrilled about your book, by the way. Thanks for acknowledging him," he said.
       I had said "thank you" to a bunch of people in the front part of the book, him included. I was glad I had done that, now.
       "He deserves more than that," I said.
       "I agree, but back to my point. I'll be able to teach you some basic principles of composition, and I might be able to help you out with PhotoShop, if you need it. But I really don't think I'm on your level, son," he said. "I think you should drop the course."
       "Are you telling me I'm not going to pass it?" I asked.
       I didn't know what the hell he was really getting at.
       "Oh, absolutely not. I'm ready to give you an A right now, but I want you to know going in that you probably won't learn much," he said.
       "I want to stay in. I'll learn more than you think I will. Plus, my best friend is in here with me, and I want to encourage him to take pictures, too," I said.
       "Is he one of the boys in the book?" he asked.
       "Do you remember a picture of a naked boy with a watermelon seed stuck to his penis? That's him," I said. "That's Justin Davis, and he's in this class."
       "Oh, my," he said, and he sat down like he was weak or something.
       "Justin's in the book a bunch of times," I said.
       "I know," he said.
       "Mr. Potter, I need to go, okay?" I said.
       "I'm sorry, Kyle. I didn't think about the fact that you probably have another class. You're certainly welcome to stay in the course, and so is Justin. I'll see you Thursday," he said.
       "Yes, sir. Bye, and thank you," I said.
       I didn't have another class, but I had to piss so bad it was about to start leaking down my leg. Now wouldn't that have been a fine sight?! I found the nearest men's room, and I had my dick out as I was charging in. There was another guy in there standing at a urinal, but he didn't even look at me. I didn't care one bit. God, that was sweet relief.
       * * *
       Later that week the new people moved in next door. You only usually have two next-door neighbors, and I thought getting new ones was pretty exciting. I had seen them when the big truck drove up on Wednesday, and I had scoped them out from a distance. It was two boys and two men. I didn't know if there were ladies who would come later, or not.
       One of the things we always do in the South--although they probably do it everywhere else, too--is take food to people in some kind of turmoil. When somebody in a family dies, you load 'em up. Meat. Vegetables. Rice. Potatoes. Salad. That kind of stuff. When somebody new moves in, though, you go lighter. Nobody in our house said squat about getting them up something, so I did it Friday night.
       I had sort of mixed feelings about that, too. I mean, that was the night of the football jamboree, and that was something I loved every year when I was in high school. I knew a bunch of the alumni from my class were going to be there, but I didn't want to look like the kind who can't get enough of high school, even after they graduated. If one of my brothers was playing, I would have been there with bells on. But the fact was, they weren't. And I really did feel like we needed to be hospitable to our new neighbors. So, I decided to stay home and make coffeecakes.
       I actually had a good time making those things, too. I got Justin to come in the kitchen with me, and he and I drank beer while we worked. We didn't usually do that, but we were both college boys. I felt like we deserved a couple of beers. I mean, we were at home, not driving or anything, Friday night, and we knew Kevin and Rick didn't care. I guess legally we were drunk, but just barely. It was fun.
       The next day we took the cakes to the new neighbors and visited with them awhile. It turned out they were all gay. Go figure that! Somebody even said something about that. Gay or not, they were really nice guys, and I knew they were going to be our friends.
       "Jerry wants us to go to Mass tomorrow night, instead of tonight," Kevin said, as we were finishing up lunch. "Vince is going to be here, and he and Jerry are going to concelebrate."
       I wasn't real sure what that meant, but it was fine with me. I liked Vince a lot, and I loved Jerry to death.
       "Who wants to go skiing this afternoon?" I asked.
       Justin, Brian, and Tim said they wanted to, but Kevin and Rick had other things to do.
       "Let's ask Wade and Reid if they want to ski," Tim said.
       I had gotten their phone number while we were over there, so I called them. Wade answered.
       "Hey, it's Kyle," I said, after he had said hello.
       "Hi, Kyle. That coffee bread was really good, man. What's going on?" he said.
       "Thanks. We're going water skiing this afternoon. Do you and Reid want to go?" I asked.
       "Sure, but let me see if we can," he said.
       I could hear mumbled conversation. Reid's voice was pretty plain, and he definitely wanted to go. The two dads were mulling it over, but I couldn't understand what they were saying.
       "Yeah, we can go," Wade said.
       "Cool. Come on over," I said.
       "Okay. Give us a minute to put on bathing suits, and we'll be right there," Wade said.
       "Okay, but don't drag ass," I said.
       "We won't. Later," he said.
       They were at our backdoor in ten minutes, suited up. They were both wearing trunks that looked a lot like board shorts but weren't. I wondered if they surfed.
       We went down and got on the boat. Trixie and Krewe were right there with us like they wanted to go.
       "Stay, Trixie," Brian said, and she sat down on the dock. "Come on, Krewe," and she jumped on the boat.
       "You've got this ass backwards, Brian. Krewe needs to stay and Trixie can come with us. This dog is going to jump in the water every time somebody goes down," I said.
       "Kyle, I can't train her not to do that unless she goes out with us," Brian said. "That's how I trained Trixie. It's their instinct to go after things that go down, Kyle. The only way I can train Krewe not to do that is to have her out skiing with us," Brian said.
       "They go after things that go down?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah," Brian said.
       "Go down on what?" Justin asked.
       I thought that was pretty funny, and I started laughing. Reid and Wade looked at each other, like "Can we laugh at this? Is he making a pun or what?" When Brian started laughing, they did, too.
       "Not that," Brian said.
       "Oh, so we're both safe from the dogs," Justin said.
       "I am," Brian said. "I'm their master, you know," he said.
       "I know. That kind of creeps me out sometimes, too," Justin said.
       "I think this gives a whole new meaning to a boy dogging you, Justin," I said.
       They all laughed.
       We skied our asses off that afternoon. There wasn't any teaching those boys. They were both expert skiers, and all they did was slalom, like us. By the end of the afternoon, they were doing tricks on the ski, just like we did.
       Krewe got a lot of good instruction that day, too. I'm glad I let Brian bring her. Oh, she went in the first two or three times somebody went down, but by the end of the day she wasn't doing it anymore. I didn't know if that would stick, but I hoped it did. Getting a fifty pound dog out of the water wasn't easy. Brian was amazing with those dogs, that's for sure.
       We didn't get home till six o'clock, and Jimmy and Dave were on the patio with Kevin and Rick when we got there. They were having drinks, and I saw a party developing.
       "Do you guys want a drink?" I asked Wade and Reid. "Liquor, I mean. Or something else."
       "I'd love a drink," Wade said, and Reid seconded him.
       "What do you like? Bourbon and coke?" I asked.
       "Yeah. That's excellent," Reid said.
       Justin made the drinks, and I suddenly realized we were going to need food. Hell, it was six o'clock, and everybody was needing to eat. What was I going to serve? Hot dogs? I didn't think so. I raced into the kitchen to see what I could thaw real quick. There, on the counter, was a package from the really good deli in town. I ripped it open, and there were twenty prime filets. Really big ones, too. I opened the oven, and there was a whole sheet of twice-baked potatoes in there. I smiled. In the 'frige was a huge bowl of salad, and in the bottom oven was an asparagus casserole just waiting to be heated. There was a carrot cake and a lemon meringue pie on the counter. It looked like somebody had finally planned a party around this place, besides me.
       I had noticed they had some hors d'ouevres trays out already, so I went back out to socialize. Jeff, Tyler, Chuck, and Tony came in right about then, and we all hugged our brothers and introduced them to the new neighbors. I figured that Wade and Reid, as a new couple, were pretty much blown away, but they'd just have to get used to it.
       The newcomers got drinks--all beers, I think--but before long Tyler said, "Let's swim!" I loved Tyler to death because he was Jeff's partner, and I knew Jeff loved him. Plus, he was just a great, likeable guy.
       But that dude was a jock. Make no mistake about that. He loved sports better than anything. Well, maybe not anything, but you know what I'm saying. He was always ready to play some kind of sport, and he was good at it.
       When he said that, he started stripping off. He was naked in a minute, and the rest of his guys got naked, too.
       "Come on, let's go," I said, and I shimmied out of my Speedo and fluffed up my wee-wee a little bit. Everybody did that. Justin, Tim, and Brian stripped down, too. Denny and Murray, who had both spent the day with their intellectual friends, got naked, also.
       "Do we have to get naked?" Wade asked.
       "Only if you want to," I said. "Suits optional in this pool."
       Wade and Reid looked at each other and grinned. They had their trunks off in an instant, and I could tell they loved the feeling of being naked outdoors. I checked them out, of course, before they jumped in, but you know what? If you've seen one, you've pretty much seem 'em all. They were totally average in size. I did notice they didn't bother to trim up their pubic hair, but that was okay, too. They were just basically good, nice boys, and I was glad they were going to be our friends.
       "See that? They're cut. Both of them," Justin said.
       "I know. I'm glad we didn't bet on it, 'cause I would have lost," I said.
       "Kyle, you've got to re-think your view of the world, man," Justin said. He was grinning.
       "I know. I've got to re-think cut versus uncut, straight versus gay. All that stuff," I said.
       "Just don't re-think being you 'cause you're the best the way you are," he said.
       "Thank you for saying that. That means a whole lot to me, especially coming from you," I said.
       "If you're fixing to cry, forget it. I ain't making you no ice cream," he said.
       "Can I have a hug, at least?" I said.
       "Yeah, come here. Here's your hug."
       We had fun with the new neighbors. There were sixteen of us, and we got up a game of pool volleyball. It was pretty much old against young, with eight on a side. I insisted that Denny be on Rick's team, and I took Murray. I never waited until last to choose them, though, and neither did Rick. That business of saving the worst for last is bullshit, and it only hurts a guy's feelings for him not to be picked sooner than last. Even in school, at PE, I would do that if I was captain. I took some minor grief for it a few times from assholes who thought winning a game of shirts against skins in PE was the same thing as winning a medal at the Olympics, but it never bothered me.
       Wade and Reid were pretty good. I could tell that wasn't their first game of volleyball. They were both on my team, and one time Reid got really pissed off because Murray missed a hit. The first time it happened, he just made some stupid remark about him having elastic wrists or something like that. The second time, though, he screamed at Murray. I could tell he hurt Murray's feelings, too.
       I was next to Reid on the last row. I wasn't going to let him talk to Murray like that. I talked low so nobody could hear what I said, especially Murray.
       "Hey, buddy. Lighten up on him, okay? He can't help it," I said.
       "But he should have had that one, and the one before it, too. They're hitting it to him because they know he can't handle it," Reid said.
       "Yeah, and you or I would have gotten it. Maybe. Look, the boy's queer, he's an orphan, and he's sissified. Please don't make it any worse for him. We don't play like that here," I said.
       He pinched his nose with the thumb and index finger on his left hand, like maybe he was thinking or processing what I had said.
       "Okay," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I won't do it anymore."
       "Good. You'll have a lot more fun, and so will Murray. Now let's play," I said.
       To show him I didn't have any hard feelings, I jumped on him. We were treading water, and I dunked him.
       "Asshole," he said when he came up, but he was grinning. I grinned back.
       After we ate, we shifted into the clubhouse for pool and the other stuff we had in there.
       "Damn, this is nice," Wade said.
       We showed them around the kitchen, the weight room, the locker room, and, of course, the main room.
       "We call this the clubhouse, and you guys are welcome to come over any time to use it," Kevin said. "We entertain a good bit, and this place is perfect for that."
       "I can imagine," Jimmy said. "This must be like paradise for the boys."
       "It is," Rick said. "We've got five ten-top round tables, fifty chairs, and all the tableware you would need to feed fifty people a really nice dinner. We do that quite a bit."
       I noticed Reid talking to Murray, and then they shook hands. I figured Reid was apologizing, and I knew that boy must have character, if that's what he was doing. Kevin was eyeing the two of them, too, and he smiled when they shook.
       "Did you get onto Reid in the pool?" Kevin asked me in private.
       "I told him that's not the way we do it here. I think ole Reid must be a really good kid," I said.
       "Well, I'm glad you didn't embarrass Reid by fussing at him in front of everybody, but I was getting pretty damn pissed off at the way he was acting," Kevin said. "And his dad was embarrassed, too."
       "It looks to me like they made up," I said.
       "Yeah."

(Reid's Perspective)
       Things had not been good at home since just before the holidays. My step-dad came home from work on December 23rd with a pink slip in his hand, and that really put a damper on Christmas. He was an engineer for a major aircraft manufacturer, and the threat of a layoff had been looming large on the horizon ever since the September 11th terrorist attacks. People just weren't flying as much as they used to, and the aircraft industry took a major hit. What everybody had feared had finally happened, though, and my step-dad was out of work.
       I was expecting a new car for my seventeenth birthday in January, but that didn't look real promising after the layoff. The car I drove was a fifteen-year-old hand-me-down, and it was being held together by duct tape and baling wire. Randy, my step-dad, and I had spent countless hours working on it to keep that thing running, but it needed a new transmission in the worst way.
       In fact, I didn't get the new car for my birthday. That was okay, and I understood. The family was having a tough time financially, and my mother's teaching job brought in enough money for us to live on, but that was all. No extras, like a new car for the kid.
       Then, in early February, the transmission on my car finally gave it up, and I was back on my bike. I mean, they let me use my mom's car for outings with my friends and all, but I was back on the damn school bus every day that I couldn't ride my bike to school because of the weather. How humiliating!
       My step-dad kept getting his hopes raised that his company would call him back, but it never happened. He got a job at a computer repair shop, but he didn't make anywhere close to what he made as a senior project engineer with a huge company. I never did know why they didn't demote him and let some of the more junior engineers go, but they didn't. They laid off his entire department. I guess his skills were highly specialized, and they just didn't need him anymore.
       Things got to be pretty depressed around the house. My step-father was a fine man, and I really loved him, but not having a professional-level job really hit him hard. He would go for long periods without talking, and I'd hear him and my mom both crying late at night after everybody had gone to bed. Mom had to be "up" for her students, and all, but that was more or less just an act. She was just as depressed as Randy was.
       "How's it going, Reid?" my real dad asked me on the phone one day.
       "It's bad," I said. "Randy and Mom are both real depressed all the time, and it's starting to really get to me."
       "How's Jamison holding up?" he asked.
       Jamison was my younger half-sister. She was twelve years old, and I heard her crying in her room now and then, too.
       "I don't know. She's pretty sad, too," I said.
       "Are things really tight financially?" he asked. "I can send more child support, if they need me to."
       "Dad, I've thought about this a lot, and I really don't think it's about money all that much. Sure, things are tight, but they're not going to lose the house or anything. I think it's really about Randy feeling flattened by a force he can't control. He's even said that. He told me he feels like his balls have been cut off," I said.
       "Ouch," Dad said.
       I laughed a little.
       "I know. That would definitely hurt, wouldn't it?" I said.
       "Yeah, it would, but that's not what I meant. You and I have talked a bunch of times about the fact that Randy is a very decent guy, and I just hate it that he feels that way psychologically," he said. "For him to say that means he feels some fundamental change has occurred in his life, a change that cuts to the core of who he is."
       "I know," I said.
       My dad was gay, and I had known that for years, but that didn't make him any less my dad or any less the greatest guy I knew. I had had a sense that I was different from other guys for a long, long time, but when I started changing sexually and thinking about sex all the time when I was around twelve or thirteen, one day it suddenly occurred to me that I was gay, just like my dad. My initial reaction was panic. I didn't want to be gay. I wanted to be straight, like Randy, and I wanted to grow up and get married and have a family.
       I stewed about that a long time, but I never told anybody what I was thinking. I spent a month every summer with my dad and his partner, Dave, in Florida. My dad was a lawyer and Dave did taxes, or something like that. Dave had a son, too, and he would usually be there the same time I was. His name was Wade, and he and I hit it off so well, you wouldn't believe it. Wade was smart, good looking, athletic, kind, fun-loving. Everything.
       Wade and I both had computers, and we would swap emails and chat on Instant Messenger when we weren't together. I was aching to tell Wade that I thought I was gay, but I knew he wasn't. He would write to me and chat to me about the girls he dated. He never told me he had sex with his girlfriends, and I never asked. I assumed he had, though.
       The summer before Randy lost his job, I came out to my dad. I just flat out told him: "Dad, I'm gay."
       "A chip off the old block, huh?" he said.
       "You're not upset or disappointed or anything?" I asked.
       "Why would I be, Reid? It's just one more bit of evidence that homosexuality is genetic, the way I see it. Besides, why would it matter to me? I'm very happy as a gay man, and I know you will be, too, son. Have you told your mother?" he asked.
       "No. I'm not ready to do that yet," I said.
       "She's going to be fine with it," he said. "But you have to find your own place and your own time to come out to her."
       "I know," I said.
       I went to see Dad and Dave during Spring Break after the layoff. Wade's Spring Break came at a different time than mine did, so he wasn't there. It was just Dad and Dave and me. We talked a lot about what was going on at home for me, and, gradually, over the course of the week I was there, we hit on a plan for me to move in with them. I sort of hated the idea of missing my senior year at home, but it was getting harder and harder for me to take the darkness and the depression all the time. It was starting to make me depressed, and it didn't seem to be getting any better.
       "Let's call your mom and see what she thinks about your moving down here to live with us," Dad said one day.
       "Okay," I said.
       By that point, I really didn't think she'd care. I mean, I knew she and Randy loved me, but they were so wrapped up in their personal problems that I would be just one less thing they had to deal with. And I was right. Mom even said she had already thought about calling to see if I could stay, and that's what I did.
       I didn't even go home after Spring Break. They packed up my stuff (although they missed quite a few CD's and other things) and sent it down to me. My mother had no idea--at least from me--that I was gay, and I was going to get to live with the two happiest people I had ever been around.
       Dad and Dave were living in town--east of the bridge, as they said--but they were building a house on a magnificent lot on a lagoon on the beach proper. I enrolled in Crawford High School and finished out my junior year, but the next year we would be in the new house and I would be going to Beachside High School.
       * * *
       About a week after I was there, Wade's mother called. Dave spoke to Wade all the time, but he didn't usually speak to Wade's mom.
       "What did she want?" Dad asked Dave as soon as he got off the phone.
       "You're not going to believe this. She wanted to know if I'd 'take' Wade." He did his fingers in little quotation marks in the air when he said the word "take."
       "What?"
       "Yeah. Apparently her company wants her to relocate to England, and she's going to be traveling all over the damn place from there. She thinks he needs more stability than she can give him, so now it's time for him to live with his father," Dave said.
       "I hope you said 'yes,'" Dad said.
       "Of course I said 'yes,'" Dave said.
       "All right!" I said, enthusiastically.
       "He'll be here just as soon as school is out," Dave said. "It looks like our boys are going to be with us full time from now on."
       "That's wonderful," Dad said.
       "Oh, in other news, Wade came out to her as a 'homosexualist.' Her word. Honest to God," Dave said.
       "'Homosexualist?'" Dad asked.
       "Don't ask me where she got it. Maybe she just can't bring herself to say 'homosexual,' or 'gay,' or even 'queer.' Wade's not like you and me, Babe. He's a homosexualist, according to his mother," Dave said.
       Dad and Dave laughed a little bit.
       When Dave said Wade had come out, I got hard instantly. I was juicing out pre-cum in about three heartbeats, and I was grinning my fool ass off. They noticed. The grin, anyway.
       "You like Wade, don't you?" Dave asked.
       "Yeah, I like Wade. Of course, I like Wade. Wade's a great guy," I said.
       They smiled at each other, and I figured they were thinking, "Yeah, he likes Wade because he's in love with him." And if they thought that, they wouldn't be wrong. But did Wade feel that way about me? God, I hope he did.
       Well, it turned out he did.
       We lived in a three-bedroom house on a nice street in a section of town known as The Cove. Dad and Dave shared a bedroom, of course, but Wade and I each had our own room. The first night Wade was there, Dad and Dave had to go to a party for some people they knew who were getting married. It was a Saturday, and Wade and I stayed home to watch movies, or whatever.
       "Wade, there's something about me I want to tell you," I said.
       "Is it that you're gay?" he asked.
       "Yeah. How'd you know that?" I asked.
       "I guess it just takes one to know one," he said.
       "There's more, though," I said.
       "I hope you're going to say what I want you to say," he said.
       "I hope so, too," I said.
       Then there was a long pause.
       "What were you going to tell me?" Wade asked.
       "Don't get mad, okay?" I said.
       "Okay," he said.
       "Wade, I love you," I said.
       "Really?" he asked.
       I couldn't say "really" in return. I was way too emotional to say anything. I just nodded.
       "That's what I was hoping for because I'm in love with you, too. I have been for a long time. God, I've wanted to tell you that for three years. I love you, Reid. You're all I think about. That's why I stay hard all the time. I love you!"
       That's when we kissed for the first time. It was sort of tentative at first, but pretty soon we got the tongues involved. You know how that is. We kissed and touched each other above the waist through our clothes. I got the bright idea to take his tee shirt off, and then he took mine off, too. We were still kissing, still touching each other. He moved his mouth down to one of my nipples, and he worked it with his tongue and teeth. It was gentle, but--Oh, my God!--it was so intense. I had my fingers on his nipples, too, making them hard, making them feel good.
       Without warning, I came in my shorts. It was that intense. Seconds later, he did the same thing.
       In a few moments, we pulled apart. We were breathing like racehorses.
       "I came," Wade said. "Did you?"
       "Yeah," I gasped out.
       "That was my first time," Wade said.
       "Your first time coming?" I asked. I thought he was a little old for that to be his first time.
       "No. Not my first time coming. My first time coming with another person," he said.
       "Oh. Me, too," I said.
       "So, I guess we aren't virgins anymore," he said.
       "I guess not. Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?" I asked.
       "Yes. Definitely," he said. "Tonight, and every night from now on."
       It was only about nine o'clock, but we went to bed then, anyway. There was a lot I wanted to do with Wade, and he wanted it as badly as I did. That was so cool. We got a good start that night, but we left room for future growth.

(Murray's Perspective)
       I got my feelings hurt by that Reid guy when we were playing volleyball. Kyle and Rick were the captains that night. They usually were, unless the captains were Kevin and Justin. But either way, it didn't matter. Kyle chose me third. I knew I wasn't any good at sports, but I hated worse than anything to be chosen last for a team. They never did that to me or Denny, and I loved them for that as much as for anything.
       Reid was a really nice guy, and I could tell that. But he got carried away during that game, and he cussed me out. He said I had elastic wrists and that I played like a retarded girl. I knew I did, but that really hurt in front of all those guys. He didn't have to say that. That really hurt my feelings.
       I saw Kyle talking to him, though. He left me alone after that talk, and later, he apologized to me for saying what he had said. That cheered me up quite a bit. Plus, I slugged down a couple of swallows of Kyle's drink, when he set it down, and Justin's, too, when he and I were outside smoking.
       "That little fucker Reid's got a lot to learn, ain't he?" Jus said.
       "He hurt my feelings a little bit," I said.
       "He hurt 'em a lot, and Kyle and I need to grind his nut sack into the dust with the heels of our boots," Justin said.
       I laughed. I knew he was carrying on, just like he always did.
       "Laugh if you want to, but stand back when his balls pop. Don't get any in your eye," he said.
       I laughed harder.
       "Can I show you something?" he asked.
       "Sure. What?" I said.
       "The way you hold your cigarette. That drives me crazy, man. Look. Hold it like this."
       I was holding it with the tips of my fingers, and he wanted me to hold it half-way down my fingers. And he wanted me to crook my fingers a little bit, too.
       "The way I showed you is the way a man holds a cigarette. The way you hold it is the way a woman does. That's something you can fix, man," Jus said.
       I instantly knew he was right.
       "I'll do better," I said.
       "Well, it's a little thing, you know, but people notice that kind of thing. Of course, you don't really smoke enough to get real practice. That's about the third one I've seen you smoke," he said.
       "You don't smoke much, either," I said.
       "I know. I used to smoke a pack a day, but now a pack a week is about my speed. Ever since I came here I've been smoking less and less. I don't know what it is. Kyle hasn't had a cigarette in weeks. At least not that I've seen. I don't know why," he said.
       "Back to Reid. You're not really going to hurt him, are you?" I said.
       "Naw. Reid's a good guy, I think. He just got a little carried away tonight. Did he say he was sorry?" he asked.
       "Yeah, he did. I'm cool with Reid. But Jus, I'm getting picked on at school," I said.
       "What do you mean, 'getting picked on?'" he asked.
       "Being called names. Having my books knocked out from under my arms. Being shoved up against lockers. That sort of thing. He always does it when nobody else is around, too," I said.
       "I think that's a pretty tolerant school," Justin said. "Who is this guy?"
       "His name is Marshall Davis, and he's new at Beachside this year. He's a sophomore like me," I said.
       "Marshall Davis? That's my cousin," he said.
       "Really?"
       He grinned. "No, he ain't my cousin. I ain't got no fucking cousins. I ain't got nobody but the boys in this house. Have you talked to Tim and Brian about it?"
       "No. You're the first one I've mentioned it to, but it's getting really old, you know?" I said.
       "Tomorrow morning we're going to have Sunday Family Time, and I want you to bring it up. If you don't, I will. We're going to nip this in the bud, Bubba. This little boy needs some instruction, and I'd bet money he's fixing to get it," Jus said.
       "Justin, thank you so much," I said.
       "You're welcome. Now let's get your smoking down right. Light up another one. You don't have to inhale. This is rehearsal for the way a guy smokes. Okay, now light up," Justin said.
       That guy was so intense about the way I held a cigarette that it was funny. But he wanted me to look like a guy when I smoked. He was right when he said I didn't smoke enough for it to matter, but the fact that he cared at all mattered a great deal to me.
       That was so typical of the guys in that house. They cared about the details of my life, and I thought that meant they cared about me. I knew Kevin and Rick cared, but one by one, detail by detail, the boys were showing me they cared as well.
       It was little things. Brian gave me his notes from AP European History, and those helped a great deal. Tim bought me an electric shaver after I massacred my face with the blade razor Kyle had bought me. Rick took Denny and me to a huge bookstore in Destin and gave us each fifty dollars to buy books. Kevin took me shopping for clothes. They were all wonderful to me.
       "Denny, I think I've died and gone to heaven," I said.
       "You mean this house?" he asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "These guys are unbelievable," Denny said. "I know what you mean."

Chapter 04

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Rick put his hand on my chest when we got into bed. That was his sign that he wanted to make love.
       He started moving his hand around on me, and that was beginning to arouse me. Any time he touched me in anything more intimate than a handshake, I started growing down below. That night I relished his touch. We kissed.
       "I love the way you smell," he said.
       "Do I smell like aftershave?" I asked.
       "Not really. You smell like Kevin," he said. "Do I smell like Rick to you?"
       I got playful and started sniffing around the various parts of his body. We always sleep nude, so I moved down to his crotch, sniffing away. In point of fact, the aroma of that part of his body was a total turn-on for me, and I nudged his hard-on with my nose. I didn't just do that, though. I took him into my mouth.
       He moaned a bit.
       "Turn around so I can get at you, too," he said.
       I did as he asked, and I felt the exquisite heat of his wet mouth on my dick. We kept that up for a long while, stopping when the other one was near orgasm. Finally, after several close calls, we made each other come.
       "Wow! That was intense," he said when we were both recovered and cuddled in each other's arms.
       "It was for me, too. I love the way you build me up to it gradually," I said.
       "I like that, too, and it always makes me come harder than I usually do," he said.
       "Same here. I wonder how many other people in this house and next door did the same thing tonight," I said.
       "I don't know. I had fun tonight with the new neighbors. Did you?" he asked.
       "Yeah. I got a little pissed off when Reid was angry at Murray for missing the ball, but Kyle set him straight on that point. Reid apologized to Murray, and I saw them shaking hands," I said.
       "Good for Kyle. Evidently he did it without threatening Reid, too, because the two of them seemed to get along fine," Rick said.
       "Yeah. I think Kyle's growing up and learning how to be a little more diplomatic than he used to be. Babe, I'm going to turn out the light now," I said.
       "Okay. I love you, Mr. Foley," he said and kissed me.
       "I love you, Mr. Mashburn," and I returned the kiss.
       Rick and I always made love with the lights on. We had tried it a few times in the dark, but one of our great joys of sex was watching the other one's reactions to what we did. For that we needed light.
       I switched the light off, and in seconds we were both asleep, holding each other gently.
       * * *
       From the depths of sleep, I heard a ringing sound that seemed to get louder as I began to wake up. Rick usually set his alarm clock for five o'clock so he could get up and run to start his day. I had gotten so used to it that the alarm rarely woke me up anymore. Besides, the sound I was hearing was more like a phone than an alarm clock.
       I switched on the bedside lamp on my side of the bed, and I was suddenly blinded by the light. I grabbed the phone.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hello? Mr. Foley?" the voice asked.
       "Yes, this is Kevin Foley. Who is this?"
       "This is Sergeant Green with the Florida Highway Patrol. I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night."
       A million thoughts ran through my mind. Had there been an accident? Was one of the kids hurt? What was wrong?
       "That's okay. What's wrong?" I asked.
       Rick was awake by then.
       "Who is it?" he whispered.
       I held up my hand to indicate that I had to pay attention to the phone.
       "Sir, one of the employees of Goodson Enterprises got into a scrape earlier tonight. He got beat up at a truck stop up on Highway 231. He's not hurt bad, but it's like he's catatonic or something. I can't get anything out of him, and he doesn't have any ID on him. He's wearing a Goodson Enterprises tee shirt, though. I need for you or somebody to come and get him, if you will."
       "Is he drunk?" I asked.
       "No, he doesn't seem to be, and I don't smell any alcohol on him or anything. I think he's having some kind of emotional reaction or something," Green said. "I've known Gene Goodson for years, and his daddy, too, and I know he'd want to help this boy."
       "Hold on a minute," I said into the phone.
       "What's going on?" Rick asked when I covered the mouthpiece of the phone.
       "Some kid who works for Goodson got beaten up tonight. He doesn't have ID, and he's catatonic. This is the Highway Patrol, and they want me to come and get him," I said.
       "Well, if anybody goes, we'll go together, Babe. Is the guy drunk?" Rick asked.
       "He says not," I said. "What should we do?"
       "What time is it?" Rick asked.
       I looked at the clock next to the bed.
       "It's two o'clock in the morning," I said.
       "Jesus Christ," Rick replied. "They didn't prepare us for this kind of thing in hotel school, did they?"
       I chuckled.
       "Tell him we're coming," Rick said.
       I told the Sergeant we were on our way and hung up.
       "How do they know the guy works for GE?" Rick said, as we were driving to the Highway Patrol station. "And how the hell did they know to call us?"
       "Apparently he has on a company tee shirt. I don't know how he knew to call us. He said the guy doesn't have any ID, so I wonder if he was robbed," I said.
       "Probably. They probably just took his whole wallet. Kevin, this is what comes of being a big fish in a little pond," Rick said.
       "What are you talking about?" I asked.
       "Well, only in a place like this would the cops call a perfect stranger in the middle of the night to come bail out an employee, a possible employee, really. I can just imagine the cop's thought processes. 'He's wearing a tee shirt that says "Goodson Enterprises," so he must work there. The Goodson's are good people, and they take care of their own. I'll just get that Foley guy's ass out of bed in the middle of the night to effect the rescue.'"
       I laughed.
       "You're probably right on target," I said. "The cop said he knows Gene and he knew Gene's daddy, too. He was thinking we're going to keep this quiet and all in the family."
       "Exactly," he said.
       Rick was driving, and he pulled into the parking lot at the Patrol station. There were a couple of other cars there, and a man and a woman came out as we were going in. The man was drunk, and the woman was bitching him out. I wondered if she had been called, too.
       "I'd hate to be that guy, if it's what it looks like," Rick said.
       "Yeah, me, too," I said.
       There was a young woman at the counter in the front of the station. I told her who I was and asked for Sergeant Green. She went into the back, and a fifty-ish man in a Highway Patrol uniform came out. We made the introductions.
       "Come back into my office," he said.
       We went into his office, and the guy in there was Kenny Balch. And, yes, he definitely was a Goodson employee. He worked for Tony in Information Services, in fact. When he looked up and saw who it was, he burst into tears.
       I didn't know what to do. I knew Kenny, but I didn't know him well. I spent time every day talking with the employees in the Goodson Building, so I knew Kenny was newly married and that he loved golf. He didn't have any children yet, but I knew he wanted a family eventually. He was probably twenty-five or twenty-six, somewhere in that neighborhood. He was a very good-looking guy usually, but at that moment he had an ugly black eye, no doubt from the beating he had taken.
       "Do you know this gentleman, Mr. Foley?" Sergeant Green asked.
       "Yes, he works for Goodson. His name is Kenny Balch," I said.
       "Do you know if he's married?" Green asked.
       "Yes, he is. He's been married about six months, I guess," I said.
       "I'm going to call his wife and ask her to come get him," Green said.
       "NO!!!" Kenny screamed out. "Don't call her. We're not together any more."
       That came as a shock. I had seen some pictures of their wedding, and they seemed extremely happy.
       "Mr. Foley, can I speak to you for a moment in the hall?" Green asked.
       "Sure," I said.
       "Sir, this is a little more complicated than I've told you. We caught the guy who beat him up, and he claims Mr. Balch administered oral sex to him in the parking lot of the truck stop," Green said.
       "I see," I said. I thought about how Rick and I had made love earlier that evening.
       "This is beginning to look a lot like a hate crime, if that's true," the Sergeant said.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "If there's a trial, that will surely come out, and this boy's whole life here could be ruined," he said.
       "I see your point," I said.
       Ordinarily, when I heard about gay bashings, I wanted the victim to prosecute to the full extent of the law. In my mind, that was simple. But, I never thought I'd be in a situation like I was in that night. I was fully out to everyone, and having my sexual orientation argued in a courtroom didn't seem all that terrible. Suddenly, I saw the whole thing very differently from Kenny's point of view.
       "My advice to Mr. Balch is to forget about pressing charges. We'll do it if he wants to, but . . . "
       "Are there any witnesses to the beating?" I asked.
       "Yes, there are," he said.
       "Is the perpetrator under arrest?" I asked.
       "Not yet. We brought him in for questioning, but we haven't arrested him," he said.
       "So, technically, you could let him go tonight. Am I right?"
       "Yes, sir. That's right," he said.
       "Are you asking me to make a decision?" I asked, rather stunned that he might be doing just that.
       "I know it seems unorthodox, and I guess it really is, but in Mr. Balch's condition, I don't think we'd get a rational decision out of him right now. The perp is a local, so we can always arrest him later if Mr. Balch wants to press charges," he said.
       "Why don't you let me and my partner take him home tonight. We'll try to talk to him tomorrow and explain the situation to him. Our new next door neighbor is a lawyer. Maybe he can help," I said.
       "I'll let the perp go then," Green said. "Thank you for taking care of this boy."
       "We take care of lots of boys," I said.
       "Oh?"
       "We run a group foster home for gay boys," I said.
       He got a big grin on his face.
       "Then you know my good friend, Tyrone Williams, I'll bet," he said.
       "We know Tyrone very well," I said.
       "Small world," Sergeant Green said.
       "No. Small town," I said, and he laughed.
       Green went back into the office, but I stayed in the hall. I motioned for Rick to join me.
       "I think we ought to take him home to our house for tonight," I said.
       "Yeah, me, too. What's the scoop from Green?"
       "They caught the guy who did it. He says that Kenny gave him a blowjob in the parking lot of the truck stop where it happened. You heard his reaction to the mention of his wife. It's plausible to me," I said.
       "Yeah, I know," he said. "Why'd he beat him? Did Kenny not swallow?"
       I laughed, and Rick did, too.
       I went back in Sergeant Green's office.
       "Come on, Kenny. You're coming home with Rick and me," I said.
       He looked like he was a lot calmer than he was when we first got there.
       "Okay," he said.
       "Where's your car, Kenny?" Rick asked.
       "Truck stop," he said.
       "I wouldn't recommend leaving it there," Sergeant Green said. "There might not be anything left of it tomorrow."
       "Where is this truck stop?" Rick asked.
       "It's not that far from here," Green said. "It's straight up this highway, about ten miles. It's on the east side of the road. You can't miss it."
       "Have you got the keys?" I asked.
       "Yes, sir," Kenny said.
       Once we were in the car and traveling, I asked, "Kenny, did the man rob you?"
       "No, sir," he said. "He just beat me."
       "Where's your wallet? The officer said you didn't have any identification on you," I said.
       "It's at home. I didn't want to be robbed, so I didn't bring it," he said.
       "Do you want to tell us what happened?" Rick asked.
       "No, sir," Kenny said.
       "Kenny, how old are you?" Rick asked.
       "I'm twenty-six," he said.
       "Well, Kevin and I are twenty-seven. We want you to call him Kevin and me Rick, and lose the 'yes, sir-no, sir' shit, too, okay," Rick said.
       "Okay," Kenny said.
       "You and your wife split up?" I asked.
       "Yes, sir," he said. "About a month ago. She put me out."
       "Are you upset about that?" I asked.
       "Not really. We should never have gotten married," he said.
       "Weren't you in love with her?" I asked, realizing all the while that I was prying into that man's personal life much more than was justified.
       "I liked her a lot, and I thought I could go through with it. It just didn't work out, though," he said.
       "Kenny, you know Rick and I are a gay couple, don't you?" I asked.
       If he didn't know that, he was the only one in the building who didn't know it.
       "I had heard that," he said.
       "Well, it's true. We're gay, and we have a houseful of gay boys, too. Foster sons," I said.
       He didn't respond to that news.
       "I'm telling you that to let you know that being gay isn't the worst thing in the world. Rick and I are extremely happy with each other, and our boys are happy, too," I said.
       Again, no response.
       "Kenny, are you gay?" I finally asked point blank.
       He didn't say anything, but he started crying. I took that for a "yes."
       "It's okay, Bubba," Rick said.
       Kenny was in the back seat, and I turned around to face him. I put my hand on his knee as a gesture of support, but he pulled away from me.
       "Did you know the man who beat you?" I asked.
       "Yes," he sniffled. "He's my brother's best friend."
       "Shit," Rick said.
       "He's telling the police you gave him a blowjob. It's really none of my business if you did or didn't, and I really don't care if you did. But that fact has implications for what you decide to do about pressing charges," I said.
       "I ain't pressing any charges," he said immediately. "Yeah, I gave him one, and, yeah, I am gay. I've been gay all my life. I've loved him all my life, too, but that was the first time anything like that happened between us. He hit me and called me a motherfucking faggot, Kevin. I thought he loved me." He dissolved into tears.
       We were just getting to the truck stop, and there was a fleet of eighteen wheelers parked there for the night. There were only a handful of cars in the car-parking area.
       "Which one is yours?" Rick asked.
       "That little Escort over there," Kenny said through his tears.
       "Babe, I'll drive his car," I said. "I don't think he needs to drive right now."
       "Good idea," Rick said. "See you at home."
       Rick leaned over, and we kissed, as much for Kenny's benefit as our own.
       "We're going to stop and get something to eat," I said to Rick.
       "Okay. See you at home," he said.
       Kenny got in his car with me.
       "Are you hungry?" I asked.
       By then it was five o'clock, and I was more than a little hungry. Plus, I wanted a cigarette badly, and I hadn't thought to bring mine with me.
       "I didn't eat last night," he said dully.
       "Let's get some early breakfast," I said.
       I pulled into a Waffle House parking lot. There was a gas station-convenience store that was part of a complex of retail places, and we went in and I bought myself a pack of smokes.
       "Do you need anything?" I asked Kenny.
       "I could use some smokes, too," he said, so I bought him a pack. I bought each of us a plastic lighter, as well. Spare no expense, I thought, ironically.
       Once in the Waffle House, we both lit up. The waitress took our orders, and we sipped our coffee as we smoked.
       "Do you know what has four tits and two teeth?" I asked.
       He looked at me without any expression.
       "The midnight shift at a Waffle House," I said.
       Emerald Beach was widely reputed to have the greatest number of Waffle Houses and Waffle Shops in the country, per capita, and that was an old joke among the locals. Kenny at least thought it funny enough to smile.
       "That's an old one," I said.
       "I know. I've heard it all my life," he said.
       Whatever mirth the joke had engendered was soon gone, and he had a look of utter sadness on his face.
       "Does your face hurt?" I asked.
       "Why? Is it killing you?" he said, finishing the old joke.
       "I meant that seriously, Ken," I said. "It looks like that bruise might hurt."
       "It doesn't hurt bad. I mean, I can feel it, and it burns a little, but I don't really have a headache or anything," he said.
       "But you're sad, aren't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah, I guess I am," he said. "I guess I pretty much fucked up my life tonight."
       "No, you didn't, Kenny," I said.
       "I don't know," he said.
       "What makes you think that you did, man?" I asked.
       "Well, getting you and Rick out in the middle of the night, coming out to y'all, having Wayne beat me like he did. That's pretty fucked up, don't you think?" he said.
       "There are other ways to look at that. First, you found out that Rick and I care enough to get out in the middle of the night. Second, you found out that Rick and I don't care if you're gay. Third, you found out you don't have a future with Wayne," I said. "I think that's a hell of a lot of good stuff to learn in a night. I don't consider that fucking up at all."
       He smiled an ironic smile.
       "When you put it that way, I guess not," he said.
       "And that's the way we have to look at it," I said.
       "Here you are, boys. Enjoy your breakfast," the waitress said, as she laid down our platters of food.
       "I counted three teeth," he said, in all seriousness.
       "I counted five," I said, and he and I both laughed hard.
       That joke definitely turned a corner in Kenny's mood that night. We ate our platters of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, grits, and toast, with a waffle on the side. Toothless came back several times to refill our coffee cups, and she actually seemed like a pretty nice girl. She also actually had a mouthful of teeth, too.
       It was starting to get light when we left the Waffle House. I had been running on adrenalin for several hours at that point, and I was aching to get back in bed with Rick. I put Kenny in one of the empty bedrooms on the third floor. Murray had moved down to the second floor after Paddy had gone home, so the third floor was empty. As I was creeping down the stairs, trying my best not to make any noise, I heard a loud whisper.
       "Kevin!"
       It was Kyle.
       "What? Go back to bed. It's too early to get up," I said.
       He came out of the bedroom and walked toward me. He was naked and half hard.
       "I woke up to go to the bathroom. What are you doing up here?" he asked.
       "It's a long story. We'll tell you all about it in the morning. There's a guy on the third floor, so if you see him, don't freak out, okay?"
       "Who is he? Do I know him? Is he a kid?" Kyle asked.
       "No, he's not a kid. I don't know if you know him or not, but we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?" I said.
       "It is tomorrow," he said.
       "I know, but I've been up since two o'clock. Please go back to bed and make Tim feel good, or whatever it is you do to him," I said.
       He grinned that grin of his that was half devil and half angel.
       "Okay, but you've got me so excited about this news that I'm trembling," he said.
       He wasn't trembling one damn bit, but it was cute the way he said it.
       "Go to bed," I said. "I love you."
       "I love you, too. Good morning."
       When I finally got in bed, the warmth Rick's body had already made there enveloped me. I snuggled up to him, and he instinctively put his arm around me. I was out in less than a minute.

(Justin's Perspective)
       Brian and I woke up hard that Sunday morning, just like we did every other damn day. I saw a difference between an erection, which happened by nature, and a hard-on, which happened by Brian. Those things in the morning were definitely erections, and there wasn't anything good you could do with them until they turned into hard-ons.
       He got up to pee first, and, when he did, it was like he opened a hosepipe into the toilet. He didn't flush it because he knew I was right behind him. It took me a few seconds to get the stream started, but when it started, it started big.
       He was grinning his ass off at me when I came back into the bedroom.
       "What are you being so cute about? Huh?" I said.
       "I'm not being cute," he said.
       "Oh, yes, you are," I said.
       We were both smiling big at each other.
       "No, I'm not. I'm being horny," he said.
       "Is this thing right here giving you trouble?" I asked. I had his dick in my hand, and it was growing fast.
       "Yeah, it is," he said.
       "I want this in me today," I said.
       "Really?" he asked, sort of surprised.
       "Yeah, Little Buddy. I want you to fuck me," I said. "I've been thinking about it for a few days, and I need it."
       Brian was usually the bottom boy in our relationship, and he loved it. I had had some problems being the bottom for a good while, but he had started topping me some lately. I knew he enjoyed being the top now and then, and I had started wanting bottom more, too.
       Everything about Brian being the top was good. He knew just how to loosen me up, get me so hot for him I couldn't wait, and then he pressed home the business like a champion. That morning he fucked me so good I almost passed out. There are just a few seconds between the time your orgasm begins and the time you shoot cum, and that is the most intense. That morning it was so long I didn't think I would ever shoot.
       He flopped down next to me after he pulled out, and he was covered with sweat. I licked a little off his face, and he grinned. We laid there resting for a while until we got our breath back, and I was thinking the whole time how lucky I was. I didn't just mean lucky in the sex part, although that boy really knew what to do with a dick. I was just pure lucky to have him.
       After ten minutes or so, I lit up a cigarette. He picked it up out of the ashtray and took a big drag. He inhaled the smoke, and he didn't cough.
       "Have you started smoking?" I asked.
       "That's the first drag I've had in a long time. The last time was with you," he said.
       "Well, that's been months, then," I said.
       "Yeah," he said. "It's making me a little bit light-headed."
       "That light-headed stuff is what got me hooked, I think," I said.
       "Do you still get light-headed?"
       "If I go a couple of days without smoking I do," I said.
       "Let's get up," he said.
       I stabbed out my smoke, and we took a shower together. We both got hard again in the shower, and we took advantage of that. Isn't that what Sunday mornings are for?
       * * *
       When we went downstairs, Kyle and Tim were already in the den. They had gotten in the Sunday papers, but they hadn't opened them yet.
       "What the hell have y'all been up to?" Kyle asked.
       "None of your damn business," I said, "but it was probably the same thing you and Tim were doing."
       "You've got to tell me. I'm keeping the official sex database on this house," he said.
       "Kyle, you're so full of bullshit, there are cows stampeding to this house from all over Emerald Beach," I said.
       "There aren't any cows in Emerald Beach," he said.
       "Not true. I saw two in a convertible with the top down just yesterday. Alabama tag on the car, too, of all things," I said.
       They all laughed.
       "Oh, that kind. Jesus, that's the worst," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, and they're both craving bull gravy, Kyle. Yours," I said.
       "What the hell is bull gravy?" Kyle asked.
       "It's your cum, man. They're craving your cum, Kyle, and they're coming here to get it," I said.
       "I never heard cum called bull gravy before," Kyle said.
       "Well, that's what they call it in some places. You don't know everything," I said.
       "I know. I know very little, and I'm the first to admit that," he said.
       "I think we're facing a lifetime of this kind of stuff, Bri," Tim said.
       "I know. Let's go make the coffee," Brian said.
       When they left the room, Kyle said,
       "There's a new guy here this morning."
       "How do you know that?"
       "I got up to take a piss real early this morning, and I caught Kevin creeping down the stairs. He told me he put a new guy on the third floor, and he's not a kid," Kyle said.
       "Well, who is he?"
       "He wouldn't tell me. He said he'd explain this morning. He said he had been up since two o'clock, and it was around six when I caught him," Kyle said.
       Just then the dogs came in with Brian and Tim, and the dogs were carrying a tray with coffee cups, spoons, cream, and sugar. It was a flat basket, and each dog had one of the little handles in her mouth. They set it down on the coffee table, and one of the cups fell over. Brian was so damn proud of that trick he was beaming all over himself. The dogs seemed proud, too. Kyle and I clapped.
       "How did you teach 'em to do that?" Kyle asked.
       "Patience," Brian said.
       "Bubba, I can't believe the stuff you've taught them to do," Kyle said. "We're going to set this up again later today so I can get some pictures of it, okay?"
       "Okay," Brian said.
       Brian and I had just made love twice, but when I saw how cute he was with those dogs, I boned right up. Of course, Mister Never-Miss-a-Thing noticed.
       "What's this thing all about?" Kyle asked, putting his hand on my dick.
       "It's about me loving Brian, Kyle, and get your fucking hand off of it," I said. "It don't belong to you, and you know it."
       "Sorry, Bubba. I didn't mean anything by it. You know that," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry I snapped at you," I said.
       "You got that lovey stuff bad, though, don't you?" he said.
       "Shut up, Kyle," I said, laughing. "Can I have a cup of coffee, please?"
       "Don't change the subject," Kyle said.
       "Look, Kyle. I am totally and completely in love with Brian Mathews. Like you don't know that. Is that what you wanted to hear? And you know what else, Kyle? I happen to know you feel the same way about Tim that I feel about Brian. So fuck you, Bubba," I said.
       "I think you just came out to me," Kyle said.
       "I used to think the devil's name was Satan. But it ain't. It's Kyle, and, specifically, it's Kyle Goodson," I said.
       "I ain't the devil," Kyle said, laughing along with the rest of us.
       "It would take God to tell, Kyle," I said.
       "I'm picturing Kyle in heaven with a camera dangling from one of his wings," Brian said.
       Tim thought that was funny as hell.
       "Yeah, y'all laugh now, but when I sell those pictures of heaven to CNN, y'all ain't getting none of the royalties," Kyle said.
       Murray drifted down while we were still laughing from the last thing Kyle had said. He had the worst bed head I had seen in a long time, and he was still hard in those briefs. I liked that kid better than I ever intended to. In fact, I thought he was a pretty neat guy.
       "Good morning," I said.
       "Morning," he mumbled.
       "Brian, send the dogs back for a cup for Murray," I said.
       "I think I'd better get that," Brian said. Trixie and Krewe were right behind him.
       "I'm sore," Murray said.
       "Yeah? Who'd you spend the night with?" I asked.
       "What do you mean?" Murray asked.
       "Justin, he ain't sore that way, and you know it, you dumb fuck," Kyle said.
       He and I grinned at each other.
       "I don't know what you all are talking about, but volleyball isn't for me," Murray said. "It hurts too much the next day."
       "We've got to get your ass started on the weights, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "I know you're right, but, God, that sounds awful to me right now," Murray said.
       "We'll help you, Murray," I said. "And we can help you lose a few pounds, too."
       The boy was fat for his age and size, and there was no question about it. I had wanted to say something about it since the first day he got there, but I also didn't want to hurt his feelings, either. I figured that if he didn't trust us by now, he never would. It was time to take the bull by the horns.
       "I know I'm overweight," he said.
       "Murray, you know we're saying this stuff because we care about you, right? I mean, we're not making fun, and if you try, and still can't cut the weight, you will never hear about that from me again. But I want you to try. We all do. I think you'll be a lot happier," I said.
       "I know I'll be happier when I'm thinner and stronger. I just don't know how to do it," he said.
       Brian was back in the room by then with a coffee cup for Murray.
       "Weight Watchers is supposed to be one of the best diets," Brian said. "They have meetings once a week where they teach people how to lose weight, and they teach principles of good nutrition."
       "How will I get there?" he asked.
       "Bubba, look in the fucking driveway. We've got six cars in this family. We'll get you there and home. Don't worry about that. I could probably use me a little nutrition study myself. Basically, I just eat what they put on the table, but that might not be the best thing for me," I said. "Let's you and me join up together, okay?"
       "They won't take you," Brian said.
       "How do you know that?" I asked.
       "My mom has been a lifetime Weight Watchers member, Buddy. I've heard her talking about it," Brian said. "You have to be at least ten pounds overweight, and you're not. None of us are."
       "Yeah, but can't I go and just sit?" I asked.
       "Yeah, you can probably do that, especially if you're his ride. I'll go with you, too."
       "I wouldn't mind learning about good eating habits, either," Tim said.
       "Shit, I ain't staying home if y'all are all going," Kyle said.
       "I'll call tomorrow and find out the details," Tim said.
       "All my life I've been fat, and I've hated it. Nobody has ever hinted that I could do something about it, and now you guys are telling me you're going to go with me to Weight Watchers? I can't believe this," Murray said.
       "Believe it, Bubba. I pretty much call the shots in the kitchen around this place, and you're going to cut your weight. I guarantee it," Kyle said.
       "What the hell is this coming in?" I asked. I was referring to Denny who looked really tired and really sore.
       "Good morning. I think my arms died last night," Denny said.
       "Get your ass in here with your brothers, you little wimp," Kyle said. "You want juice, not coffee, don't you? What a pain in the ass."
       Denny grinned big, and Kyle grinned back bigger. Kyle got up and got him a glass of orange juice, though.
       "What's going on?" Denny asked.
       "We're talking about Murray's make-over, phase II," I said.
       "Oh," Denny said.
       "Oh? Is that all you can say?" I demanded.
       "Leave me alone, Bubba," Denny said. He was a cute boy, that's for sure.
       "Leave you alone? No. I'm going to pester the shit out of you all day today," I said.
       "Brian, make him stop," Denny said.
       It was cute the way he said that, and all of us laughed.
       "I'm hungry. I'm getting some of that coffeecake from yesterday," Kyle said.
       He got up and went into the kitchen. He came back in a few minutes with a platter of coffeecake. That stuff was really good, and he brought out a stick of butter to spread on it. Murray didn't need any of that, but we weren't starting Weight Watchers that morning. I noticed he downed about five pieces, with plenty of butter. That kind of eating was fixing to come to a screeching halt for him, but that day it was okay. One last fling.
       "Where are Kevin and Rick?" I asked. It was getting late, and "family time" was about over.
       "They were up till early this morning," Kyle said. "I ain't waking 'em up."
       "Murray, it's your turn to wake 'em up," I said.
       He got this horrified look on his face, like he thought I was serious.
       "I'm just pulling your dick, Murray. Don't really do it, man," I said.
       "I wish somebody was pulling my dick," he said, and we all laughed.

Chapter 05

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Rick and I woke up around eleven on Sunday morning. We showered together and did a little playing around.
       "Let's play Kenny and Wayne, without the hitting," Rick said. "I'll be Kenny."
       I laughed.
       "Okay, then I'll be Wayne," I said.
       "I like the new game," he said, when we were dried off and were dressing. "We'll need to play that some more."
       "Any time, Kenny," I said, and we chuckled.
       "It's about damn time y'all got up," Kyle said when we entered the den. "We're dying to know about the new guy."
       "What new guy?" Rick asked.
       "The new guy upstairs. Who do you think I meant?" he demanded in his teasing grumble.
       "Oh, him. He's not staying here," Rick said.
       "Why not?" Kyle asked.
       "Because he's a grown man and has a life," Rick said. "He's married, in fact, although he and his wife aren't together anymore."
       "Oh," Kyle said. "What happened? How'd you guys get involved?"
       I told them the story of Kenny being a Goodson employee and getting beaten up, but I left out the parts about the blowjob and his coming out to us. If he wanted to come out to a houseful of kids, that was his business, not mine.
       "Did he get the guy back?" Justin asked.
       "I don't think so," I said.
       "Is he a wimp?" Justin asked.
       "No, he's not a wimp. He's a computer technician in Tony's department, and he's a nice guy," I said.
       "Is he a nerd?" Kyle asked.
       "I knew you were going to ask that," Rick said. "And, no, he's not a nerd. Just because somebody works with computers doesn't make them a nerd, you know? And so what if he is a nerd?"
       "So nothing. I like nerds," Kyle said. "I like you, don't I?"
       I knew that was coming.
       "You got me last, but that was super cheap," Rick said.
       "I know," Kyle said. "So where is the guy? What's his name?"
       "His name is Kenny Balch, and I probably ought to go check on him," I said.
       "Can I go with you?" Kyle asked.
       "No, you stay here," I said. "He's going to have a black eye, so don't be shocked when you see him."
       I went up to Kenny's room, and I figured he was awake because I could hear the TV set through the door. It wasn't overly loud, but that part of the house was quiet. I tapped gently on the door.
       "Come in," he said.
       "Good morning. How are you doing?" I asked.
       "Morning. My eye hurts, but otherwise I'm okay," he said. "Kevin, I want to thank you for what you and Rick did last night. There aren't many bosses who would do that, and I really appreciate it."
       "Don't mention it," I said.
       "And thanks for talking to me, too. I feel a lot better now that you know who I really am," he said.
       "Are you out to anybody?" I asked.
       "Well, my wife. She caught me masturbating over some gay Internet porn. She said she had suspected it already, and she was pretty cool about it. She asked me to leave our apartment, and she was right about that. We're filing for divorce," he said.
       "Anybody else?" I asked.
       "Just you and Rick," he said. "You said there are some boys living here. Did you tell them?"
       "No. That's for you to do, if you decide to," I said. "They wanted to know if you'd be staying here, and I told them you're married but that you and your wife aren't together. As far as they know, you're as straight as the next guy."
       "Thanks. Oh, and I guess Wayne knows now, too," he said.
       "Yeah. Where are you living?" I asked.
       "I'm back at my parents' house, and it hasn't been easy. I think they suspect something, and I feel like I'm under surveillance all the time," he said. "I ought to be able to find a place soon, now that tourist season is almost over."
       "Well, look, this room is empty. If you want to stay here until you can get settled in an apartment, it's okay with us," I said.
       "I don't want to inconvenience you guys. You've already been nicer to me than I deserve," he said.
       I wasn't sure why he felt he didn't deserve for people to be nice to him, but I hoped it wasn't related to his sexuality. I had a million questions I was dying to ask him. Was Wayne married? How did the whole scene go down? Did Wayne lead him to believe he wanted a blowjob? Was it likely he'd have contact with Wayne at family occasions? Did he think Wayne would harass him? How did his parents feel about homosexuality? His brother? A million questions.
       "It won't be an inconvenience, and the kids will love having a new brother," I said. "And so will Rick and I."
       "I don't know," he said.
       "Well, think about it. Hang out with us today, and then decide. I guess you'll need to go home for clothes and stuff," I said.
       "Yeah, and I'm not looking forward to that with this shiner," he said.
       "They'll want to know how you got it, won't they?" I said.
       "Exactly. Shit, I really did it this time," he said.
       "Of course, if you want to, you can wear some of my clothes for a few days and just not go home. And take two or three sick days until the swelling and bruising go down," I said.
       "That's about the best idea I've heard," he said. "In fact, can I take you up on the clothes right now? I'd like to get a shower and put on something fresh."
       For the first time, I actually looked at what he was wearing. I had noticed the Goodson tee shirt the night before, but he had on khaki shorts that had a large stain to the right of the fly. He saw me looking at him, and he blushed a dark scarlet.
       "Don't ask," he said. He had a shy smile that was pretty cute.
       "I don't think I have to," I said.
       "No, I guess you don't," he said.
       "Go ahead and get in the shower, and I'll leave the clothes here on the bed. There are disposable razors and shave gel in the bathroom, and there are towels in the cabinet under the sink," I said.
       "Okay," he said, and I left to get him some clothes.
       "Rick, can I talk to you for a minute in our room?" I asked, as I passed through the den.
       "Where's the guy?" Kyle asked.
       "He's taking a shower. He'll be down in a few minutes," I said.
       "What's up?" Rick asked, after he had closed the door to our bedroom.
       "I told Kenny he's welcome to stay here a few days until his face gets to looking better," I said. "I hope you don't mind."
       "Of course I don't mind," he said. "Is his face really messed up?"
       "Yeah, it's pretty bad, and he definitely doesn't want his parents to see it. He's not out to anybody but his soon-to-be ex-wife and us. And to Wayne, of course. I told him to take sick days until his face is looking better, too," I said.
       "Well, that's certainly a legitimate use of sick leave," Rick said. "Kyle and Justin are dying to know details, and to meet him."
       "I'm not surprised. I figured they'd be curious as hell. He's not really all that much older than they are," I said.
       "Or younger than we are," Rick said.
       I got a pair of my khaki shorts, a Polo shirt, and some underwear, and took them up. He was still in the shower, and the bathroom door was closed. I gathered up his tee shirt, shorts, and briefs to put in the wash. He had had a hell of an orgasm, at least. I hoped it was before Wayne popped him.
       I got the wash started, poured myself another cup of coffee, and went back to the den. Rick and I had dressed for the day after our shower, but the boys were still in their underwear.
       "Do we need to get dressed?" Tim asked.
       "I don't see why," I said. "He's a guy, just like you, after all."
       "Kevin and Rick, I'm joining Weight Watchers, and the rest are going to join it with me," Murray said.
       "Cool," I said. "I think that's a good move. Whose idea was that?"
       "Brian's," Justin said.
       "We can't actually join, but we're going to take him to the meetings and stay and listen to the talks about nutrition," Brian said.
       "Why can't you join?" Rick asked.
       "Because we're not overweight," Brian said. "You, on the other hand, . . . "
       Rick's body-fat percentage hovered around seven percent, and if he lost weight, it could have severe health consequences. Brian seldom teased Rick and me, and I knew Rick loved his comment just then.
       "Come here, you," Rick said to Brian in his gruff grumble. "Sit here on my knee."
       Brian was grinning from ear to ear, and Rick had to grab him by the arm to get him on his lap.
       "I want to see if you need it," Rick said, and he started tickling Brian's ribs.
       Brian was squirming around on Rick's lap, and he was laughing so hard he was taking breaths in huge gasps. Brian was loving it. Trixie and Krewe would have been at Rick's throat had Rick been a stranger. As it was, they were both wagging their tails hard, nudging Brian with their snouts. Krewe barked a time or two, also.
       "No. No fat on you," Rick said, finally letting Brian slip down to the floor. Brian was out of breath from the experience. "Who's next? Kyle get up on here," Rick said, indicating his lap.
       "Grow up," Kyle said in mock contempt.
       "Oh, you think I should grow up?" Rick asked.
       Rick got out of his chair and went toward Kyle.
       "No!! Justin, help me," Kyle pleaded.
       "I ain't fixing to get involved in that. He'll be on my ass next, if I do," Jus said.
       Rick attacked Kyle. Kyle was as big as Rick, and he could have taken Rick out as easily as Rick could have taken him out. Rick was being affectionate, and Kyle knew it, so he went along. Rick tickled Kyle until Kyle was screaming with laughter, but, just as I knew would happen, Kyle turned on Rick and started tickling him. It was quite a sight to see two grown men on the floor going at each other. They kept it up for a minute or two, and then both of them flopped down on the floor exhausted.
       It was at that moment that Kenny made his appearance from upstairs. He was shy and tentative entering that group of total strangers. Kyle and Rick sat up when he came in, and Kyle simply scooted over to put his back against Tim's legs. Rick stood up and took his former seat.
       "Good morning," Rick said.
       "Hi," Kenny said.
       "Somebody get this man a cup of coffee," Rick said.
       Denny went into the kitchen to get it.
       Rick made the introductions of everyone in the room. Unless Kenny had a photographic memory, he'd never remember all the names on just one pass like that.
       "Damn, dude, you got a shiner for sure there," Justin said. "What'd you do? Run into a Mack truck?"
       "Close," Kenny said.
       "Here. Eat some of this coffeecake. I made it, and it's good," Kyle said. "It'll help you get your strength back."
       Kenny chuckled.
       "It does look good," he said.
       "It is good. Here, put you some butter on it, too. The butter's all soft now. That's the way I like it best," Kyle said. "Soft and creamy."
       "Ain't that impossible? Soft and creamy?" Justin asked. "On second thought, not for you, I reckon."
       "He got you last, Bubba," Rick said.
       "I know. Don't rub it in," Kyle said.
       "Rub what in? The soft or the creamy?" Jus asked.
       "Davis, I am this close to wanting to bust your ass for not helping me with this ox," Kyle said, meaning Rick. "Now you're making fun of me?"
       "If the fu shits, Kyle," Jus said.
       "Yeah? I'll shit in your fu," Kyle said.
       "That would damn sure be soft and creamy," Justin said.
       "Ewww," we all said, more or less on cue, and then we laughed.
       "It's getting a little gross, boys," I said.
       "I know. I surprised myself that time, but I was on a roll," Justin said.
       Kenny was eating, and I thought they were starting to get out of hand. The two of them would say absolutely anything, especially to each other, and I didn't know where that would go next. Kenny was clearly enjoying the banter, though.
       "Kenny, do you work with Tony?" Kyle asked. "He's our brother, you know?"
       "Tony Miller? Yeah, I work with him," Kenny said. "I didn't know he had a connection to you guys, though."
       "Yeah. Chuck Jackson is his boyfriend, and Chuck lived here after his mom was killed and their house burned down," Kyle said.
       "His boyfriend?" Kenny asked.
       "Oh, shit! Did I just fuck up?" Kyle asked.
       "No, you didn't, Kyle. Chuck and Tony are out to everybody," Rick said.
       "Not to him, evidently," Kyle said.
       "Kenny might not have heard, but Tony makes no secret about being gay at work," I said. "You didn't say anything you shouldn't have said."
       "That's a relief. Yeah, Kenny, Chuck is Tony's boyfriend. And Tim is my boyfriend," Kyle said.
       "And Brian is my boyfriend," Justin said.
       "And Brady is my boyfriend," Denny said.
       "Still?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. For now," Denny said.
       "And I don't have a boyfriend," Murray said. "But you stand back when I lose my weight."
       "I don't have a boyfriend, either," Kenny said.
       The boys all laughed because they thought he was joking about even wanting a boyfriend. Rick and I just looked at each other.
       "Kenny, it's okay to smoke in here, if you want to," I said, trying to change the subject.
       "I noticed the ashtrays, and I was wondering," Kenny said.
       "Yeah, this is not a healthy, smoke-free environment," Kyle said. "Is it, Justin?"
       "Fuck you, Kyle," Justin said.
       Justin and I usually went outside to smoke out of deference to the non-smokers, but Jus lit up when Kenny did that morning. He blew the smoke in Kyle's direction, just as I knew he would.
       "Gimme one," Kyle said.
       "No. Buy your own," Justin said.
       "Here, have one of mine," Kenny said.
       "No, thanks," Kyle said. "I want one of his."
       "It's the same brand," Kenny said. He was getting sucked in to something he had no idea about.
       "If I have to take those cigarettes away from you, Justin, it's going to hurt," Kyle said.
       "Hurt who? Me or you?"
       "Now, that I don't know yet," Kyle said.
       Justin laughed.
       "You don't really want to smoke a cigarette, do you?" Justin said.
       "No, I don't, but I want one to put behind my ear," Kyle said.
       We all laughed at that.
       "Oh, in that case, here," Justin said, and he gave Kyle a cigarette. Kyle tucked it behind his ear.
       "Thank you," Kyle said. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"
       "Don't start with the hard stuff," Justin said.
       We were saved from a round of puns by the arrival of the townhouse boys. That's what we called them. The Townhouse Boys.
       They came in the back door, and they made quite an entrance. We hugged everybody like we always did when they came over or we went over to their house. I watched Tony's face when he laid eyes on Kenny.
       "Hey. What's up?" Tony said to Kenny. Tony extended his hand, and they shook.
       Tony had "What the hell are you doing here" written in 36-point type across is face.
       "Not much. What's up with you?" Kenny said.
       "What happened, man?" Tony asked about his eye.
       "It's a long story," Kenny said.
       "I'll bet," Tony said.
       "Anybody want to ski?" Kyle asked.
       "That's why we came over," Tyler said.
       "Okay, but first I want to take some pictures. And I want y'all to see this. Brian, can you get 'em to do the trick again?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I think so. Get your camera," Brian said. "Everybody sit down, please."
       Rick and I sat down next to each other on a sofa.
       "What's going on?" Rick asked.
       "It beats me. Brian must have taught the dogs a trick that Kyle wants to photograph. I don't know," I said.
       Kyle got out his super-fancy digital camera and got into place. In a second he told Brian he was ready. Then, to everybody's surprise, the dogs came out of the kitchen carrying a basket in their mouths. It was like they were serving tea or something. It was amazing. They kept it steady, and they placed it on the coffee table in front of Rick and me. The tray had two cups and saucers, spoons, and a little bunch of artificial flowers that were ordinarily on the window sill in the kitchen. We applauded when they came out.
       Kyle was all over the place, and I had never seen him move that fast with a camera in his hands. He was on his back on the floor, on his knees, on his feet, on his butt. I had no idea how many pictures he took, but it was an awesome display.
       The dogs knew they were on show, and they both had happy looks on their faces once they set the tray down. Okay, maybe I'm projecting more onto them than they were capable of, but they sure looked happy to me.
       When Brian came out of the kitchen, we gave him a standing ovation. He had a grin on his face that must have hurt, it was so wide. Kyle hadn't stopped snapping pictures, either. He got a bunch of Brian, but he also got the rest of us. I knew those were going to be good.
       "I'm going to skip the skiing," Jeff said.
       "You want to get right on those pictures, don't you?" Tyler said.
       The two of them were grinning at each other, and there was real love going back and forth.
       "Yeah," Jeff said. "I've got a Web site to maintain, Babe."
       "I know, plus you ski for shit, anyway," Tyler said.
       Jeff laughed.
       "You noticed that, did you?" Jeff said.
       Tyler kissed Jeff briefly on the lips, and they were a cute couple. It was obvious they were very happy together, and that made me happy.
       Kyle called the Spencer-Kenners, and they wanted to ski, too. Denny and Murray didn't want to ski, which was no surprise. Denny had a book he was reading, and he curled up in one of the lounge chairs on the patio. Brian, Tim, and Murray played with one of Brian's model airplanes, but Brian and Tim took their turns skiing, too.
       The dogs took turns riding on the boat. Trixie didn't go in after somebody a single time, and Krewe only did it once. Brian was in the boat when Krewe went in, and he said something to her when she did it. Rick and I were on the dock with Jimmy and Dave when that happened. Brian didn't touch her, but it was pretty obvious he chewed her out. The next time somebody went down, Krewe was poised to go after him. Brian said something to her, and she sat down.
       "Brian's amazing with those dogs," Jimmy said.
       "Yeah, he is," Rick said. "He made over $20,000.00 this summer training dogs."
       "Shit. You're kidding, right?" Jimmy said.
       "No, I'm not," Rick said.
       "Damn, that's a real gift," Jimmy said.
       "Yeah, it is. But you know what? He wants to be a human doctor and not a vet," Rick said.
       "He wants to be a doctor?" Dave said.
       "Yeah, and he will be one," I said. "Count on that. And Tim, too."
       "Any potential lawyers or CPA's in the crowd?" Jimmy asked.
       "Not among the Big Four," I said. "That's Kyle, Tim, Justin, and Brian. Kyle's going to run his family's business, and Justin is going to be his right-hand man. The other two are going to be the doctors."
       "They're some amazing boys," Jimmy said.
       "Jimmy, you don't even know the half of it," I said.

(Kenny's Perspective)
       I felt so incredibly humiliated when I looked up and saw Kevin Foley and Rick Mashburn in that policeman's office Saturday night that I could have died. In fact, that night I thought death would have been a blessing to me.
       Cindy and I were doomed from the start. I knew I should never have asked her to marry me, but it was what everybody expected me to do. I mean, we had dated for three years, and all of "my" friends were really "our" friends by that point. My parents and her parents considered us a couple, and marriage was the next step. I mean, I knew I was gay, but there was enormous pressure on me to do something with her.
       I liked Cindy very much. She was pretty conservative when it came to sex, and that was fine with me. She jerked me off a few times before we were married when we were in the real heat of passion, but that was it. I tried to finger her, but she always had some excuse why I couldn't pleasure her. I really don't think she ever got off, the whole time we were together.
       Once we got married, all the reasons not to do stuff were gone. We had actual intercourse a few times, but she wasn't real keen on it, and I wasn't, either.
       A lot of people think gay men can't have sexual intercourse with a woman, but we can. At least I could. It wasn't very satisfying on an emotional level, but I could get hard and get it in her. She was pretty dry the first couple of times, and I suggested we use KY Jelly. That made it easier, but I didn't think there was any pleasure for her. It took me a long time to come, and I'm pretty sure she never did come.
       She was on the pill, so there wasn't much chance she would conceive. We had talked about wanting kids eventually, and I thank God we waited for that.
       Every time I made love to Cindy, I thought about Wayne Stafford. He was my younger brother's best friend, and I had been in love with him for years.
       Wayne was a cowboy. Not really, but that was his persona. He lived with just his dad, and they had a 40-acre spread north of Emerald Beach. They had a few head of cattle, some goats, chickens, and four horses. My brother and I loved to go up there, and my brother spent many nights with Wayne.
       My brother went off to college, and Wayne started calling me to see if I wanted to go out with him.
       "Why do you want to go out with him?" Cindy asked, more than once.
       "Because I like him. He's my brother's best friend, and he's lonely," I said.
       "Well, have fun," Cindy said, sarcastically.
       And Wayne and I did have fun. We'd go out to a bar or club on the beach, and we'd get drunk. More than once we spent the night in his pick-up because we were too drunk to drive home. He had an extended cab truck, so there was plenty of room for both of us. Wayne never picked up girls. I figured he was like me. Gay.
       After Cindy caught me in mid-jerk to some gay porn on the Web, she wanted me gone.
       "You're gay, aren't you?" she asked.
       "Yeah, I guess so," I said.
       That was it for her. For me, too, though. I didn't really want to be in that marriage, but having been married would be good cover for me. I could just tell people I was divorced if they asked me about a girlfriend or something. I had an alibi, at least for awhile.
       But there was always Wayne. I loved him so much. And I just knew he was gay and loved me, too. But I couldn't raise the question with him.
       Then one night he called me on my cell.
       "Hey, what are you doing?" he asked.
       "Nothing. What are you doing?" I asked.
       "I'm drinking beer and thinking about you," he said.
       "Where are you?"
       "I'm at the Big Chief Truck Stop on Highway 231. Do you know where that is?"
       "Yeah, I know where that is," I said.
       Cindy and I had split up by that time, and I was living with my parents again. I got in my car and headed out to see him. I took my wallet out of my shorts and left it home so some ruffian at that truck stop couldn't steal it. I didn't even think about buying drinks and that sort of thing. I was going to see Wayne, and I didn't think about needing money.
       When I got there, Wayne was about half loaded. He was happy to see me, and he bought me a beer. I don't know that I even touched it, though. We were talking about girls and sex, and about how horny we both were. It was typical conversation for young males who don't have dates on Saturday night.
       "Ken, I need to ask you something," he said. "Would you ever suck a cock?"
       At first I was taken aback by his question. But that was exactly what I wanted to do.
       "It depends," I said.
       "Will you suck mine? All this talk about sex has really horned me up, and I need it bad, man," he said.
       "Wayne, I've wanted to suck your cock for a long time," I said. I realized I was coming out to him, but I loved him.
       "I figured that," he said. "Let's go outside."
       We went outside, and I got on my knees in front of him. He whipped out his hard dick, and I went to town on it. I had never done that before, but I felt as though I knew instinctively what to do. He came in my mouth, and I came in my shorts seconds later.
       Immediately after that, Wayne hit me.
       "You fucking cocksucker," he said. "Get the fuck away from me."
       He hit me very hard. I didn't think he had broken any bones, but I really didn't know.
       I started crying because the boy I loved had called me that name and had said to get away from him. I was in pain, but that's not what made me cry. It was the rejection, the contempt in his voice when he said that.
       "Wayne, why did you do that? I love you. Don't you love me, too?" I asked. "Didn't you like it?" I'm sure I sounded desperate.
       "Shut the fuck up, Kenny. Yeah, I liked it. I liked it too goddamn much. I ain't a faggot like you, and I won't be one, either," he said. "You disgust me, and I disgust myself for letting you do that to me."
       He kicked me in my thigh. Wayne always wore jeans and cowboy boots, never shorts.
       "Hey, what's going on?" a guy yelled from his truck.
       He had a cell phone in his hand, and I figured he was calling the police.
       "Shit, that bastard saw the whole goddamn thing. At least you didn't kiss me. I'm out of here," he said.
       There were always lots of cops on Highway 231, and one of them got there in time to block Wayne's leaving. He made him get out of his truck, and the two walked over to me.
       "What's going on?" the cop asked.
       By then the man who had made the call was walking over to us.
       "I seen the whole thing, officer. This boy here gave that one a blowjob, and then that one walloped the shit out of this one," he said.
       The officer called for backup, and a second cruiser was there in seconds.
       "We're going to the station to sort this out," the cop said.
       "Am I under arrest?" Wayne asked. "'Cause if I am, I need to call my daddy."
       "You're not under arrest yet. We're going in for a little chat," the cop said.
       One took me in his car, and the other one took Wayne. We didn't see each other again after we left that parking lot. I was still crying, and, all of a sudden, it was like my mind shut down. It was like I was dead or something. I couldn't even think.
       In the office at the station, the policeman tried to get me to talk. I couldn't, though. I heard what he said, but I didn't process any of it. He was getting frustrated with me, I know, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Then I heard him making a phone call, and about a half hour later Kevin and Rick showed up.
       * * *
       Sunday morning Kevin came to wake me up. My shorts and underwear were caked with my dried cum from the night before, and Kevin noticed. That embarrassed me to death, but Kevin was cool about it. He went downstairs to get me some of his clothes. I undressed and dropped my dirty clothes on the floor, thinking I'd take care of them later. When I finished showering and shaving, I went out into the room. The fresh clothes were there, and my dirty ones were gone. He must have taken them to wash them, and that brought back the embarrassment of a little while before.
       There were six boys in the den with Kevin and Rick. The older guys were dressed, but the boys were all in underwear. Four of them had on bikini briefs, and, even though they weren't hard, I could clearly see the outline of their equipment. All four of them were very good looking, especially the one who was in charge of the dogs. Despite everything that had happened to me, I started getting aroused when I saw those guys.
       They all introduced themselves, and one of them got me some coffee. I sat down right away, and I hoped and prayed none of them had noticed my condition.
       They talked about Tony Miller, my boss. It turned out Tony had a boyfriend that he lived with and that the boyfriend had once lived there. I was a "network consultant," and, to tell you the truth, I didn't have all that much contact with Tony. My manager was a guy named Lee, and he's the one who supervised my work. Plus, I was out in the hotels and stores most of the time, fixing problems. They said Tony was fully out at work, but I sure didn't know that.
       It turned out, every one of those guys was gay, and all but one of them had boyfriends. I was totally stunned. One of them said his last name was Goodson, and I noted the coincidence. He was probably the second best-looking one of them, and he seemed like he was in his early twenties. He had what to me was a beautiful growth of hair on his chest. It wasn't real thick or gross or anything, but it was very sexy. And his physique was very well developed. Not as well developed as a sandy-haired boy, but it was nice.
       "Guys, Ken's going to be staying with us for a few days until his face heals up," Kevin said.
       "Great," the Goodson guy said. "You're going to like it here, dude. This is a good place to be."
       "Thanks, I need a sanctuary right now," I said.
       "You mean like the church?" sandy-hair said.
       "Buddy, a church is a sanctuary, and back in the old days people in trouble used to go to churches to hide because the bad guys knew not to go in there after them," the pretty one said. "They called doing that seeking sanctuary."
       "Well, the stuff that goes on in this house don't go on in a church," sandy-hair said.
       Everybody laughed but me. Later, when I thought about it, I saw how funny that was.
       * * *
       We all went outside to water ski. Kevin loaned me a pair of swimming trunks to wear. I had skied all my life, and I was pretty good. They were good, too, though, so I didn't do any showing off.
       "If you guys want a beer or a soft drink, there are plenty of both in the clubhouse," Rick said.
       "Come on, Ken. Let's go get a beer," Tony said.
       I got up reluctantly and went with him. I figured it was just a matter of time before he would want to talk to me.
       "I was surprised to see you here this morning," Tony said.
       "Yeah, well, Kevin and Rick kind of bailed me out last night," I said.
       "Were you arrested?" he asked.
       "No, I wasn't arrested. A guy beat me up a little," I said.
       "Were you in a bar fight?" Tony asked.
       His tone of voice was very compassionate, like he considered me a friend or something. That sort of surprised me since I really didn't know him all that well. He hadn't worked for Goodson very long.
       "It was at a bar. A truck stop, really, but it was in the parking lot, just him and me," I said.
       "Did he rob you?" he asked.
       "No," I said. "I had left my wallet at home."
       "Well, at least that much is good," he said. "You're going to take a few days off, right? You don't want to have to tell this story to everybody you come in contact with."
       "Yeah, I am," I said. "One of these days I might be able to tell you exactly what happened, but not now, okay?"
       "You don't owe me an explanation, Ken. You and I are both here as guests of Kevin and Rick. I'm not your boss here, and if I hadn't come over, I probably never would have known about it. I'm familiar with your work through Lee, and I know you do a good job for us. That's the only boss-employee thing I know about you. Here, we're just friends, okay, buddy?" he said.
       "I'm glad you feel that way. The last thing I need right now is to lose my job," I said.
       "Lose your job? You're kidding, right?" he said.
       "Yeah," I said, but I really wasn't.
       "Let's each take a fistful of beers out to the others. I'm sure they're all thirsty," he said.
       "I'll catch up with you in a second," I said.
       "Okay. Look around if you want to. They've got some great facilities here," he said.
       "Okay," I replied.
       I breathed a deep sigh of relief when he walked out of that building. The night before had been the worst time of my life, but everybody at that house was treating me so kind that I was almost glad it had happened. Almost.
       I thought about Wayne, and I wondered what he was doing. Then I thought about touching his penis and putting it to my lips and into my mouth. I had seen it soft many times when we went skinny dipping in the lake near his house, but that had been the first time I had seen it hard. Those thoughts made my own penis swell.
       Get over him, I thought. He doesn't want you, and he never will. He thinks he's straight, and you're not going to do anything to convince him otherwise. Go out there with your new friends and have a good time.
       While I was standing there thinking, the Goodson boy came in.
       "Hey. I came to get some beers," he said.
       "Would you tell me your name again?" I asked.
       "It's Kyle. Kyle Goodson," he said.
       He had a small tattoo of a monkey an inch or so above his Speedo. I hadn't noticed it that morning when he was in his underwear.
       "I knew your last name was Goodson. Like the building," I said.
       "Yeah," he said, and he smiled.
       "They say if you put a beefsteak on your eye, it'll take the swelling out. You want to try it?" he asked.
       "I've heard that, too, but I bet it's an old wives tale," I said.
       "Could be, but this would be a good time to test it out. I'll get you one," he said.
       There was a freezer in the kitchen, and he started digging around in it. He pulled out a filet, ran some hot water in the sink, and put it in. The meat was wrapped in butcher paper.
       "This will just take a minute to thaw," he said. "If it doesn't work, we'll cook it, and you can eat it."
       I laughed a little. He was so at ease, so comfortable with who and what he was. And so attractive.
       "Those dogs were something else with that basket, weren't they?" he said.
       "Yeah, I'd never seen anything like that before," I said.
       "I know. Brian is constantly coming up with stuff for them to do. We used to have trouble with them going in after skiers who fell or just finished their run and sank down into the water. He broke them of that, though. Everybody says he ought to be a vet, but that's not what he wants to be. He wants to be a human doctor," he said.
       He was going out of his way to make conversation, and I appreciated that.
       "I think this steak's about ready to use," he said. "It's still a little frozen, but that might help, too. I don't know if you just put it on straight or you do something to it first."
       "Let me just put it on and see," I said.
       The steak was pliable, but it was still icy. It felt pretty good when I held it up to my face, but it was the coldness that felt good, not the meat.
       "Why don't you stay in here and keep that thing on it for a while," Kyle said. "There's TV, stereo, VCR, DVD, you name it. There's even a computer if you want to check email or something."
       "Thanks," I said.
       "You call me if you need anything, you hear? We're going to get you better fast, Bubba," he said.
       "I heard several people use the name Bubba for each other. Why is that?" I asked.
       "'Bubba' means 'brother,' that's why," he said. "If you're here, you're our brother, and that's all there is to it."
       "Thanks, Kyle," I said.
       "No problem, er . . . is it Kenny or Ken? Which one do you like?"
       "Either one, but Ken is what I prefer now," I said.
       "Okay, Ken. See you later," he said.
       He gathered up as many beers as he could hold and went back outside with the others.

Chapter 06

(Ken's Perspective, Continued)
       That house was a boy's paradise. When Kyle left the clubhouse to go back out, I did a little exploring. There was a pool table, a ping pong table, and two octagonal game tables in the main room. There was an area for darts, too. There were two enormous leather sofas that I was sure opened out into beds, and four leather club chairs, as well. There was other seating around, too. A fireplace dominated one of the long walls, and a massive entertainment center dominated the other wall. The furniture was arranged so they could take advantage of both at the same time.
       At one end of the building were locker rooms like you'd find in a gym. There was one for men and one for women, too. There was a shower room in the men's section that had a four-man gang shower. There were urinals and toilets in the bathroom part, but it was really kind of all one big room. I didn't go in the ladies' side.
       At the other end of the building was a kitchen. It had a commercial stove with six burners, two ovens, and a griddle. There was even a commercial ice machine. There was a counter that opened into the main part of the room that had a pull-down door so the kitchen could be closed off. The refrigerator was loaded with beer, soft drinks, and three or four bottles of white wine. There was a standing freezer next to that, and it was loaded, too.
       Next to the kitchen was a full weight room. It wasn't as big as health-club facilities, but it looked like it was pretty well equipped. When I thought about the muscles on some of those guys, I knew that room got good use.
       After I poked around, I went back into the living area and lay down on one of the sofas. I kept the meat on my eye, and I drifted off to sleep.
       I seldom dream at night, but I always dream when I take a nap. That day I dreamed of Wayne and what he had done to me. I relived in my dream everything that had happened, and it actually seemed more vivid in the dream than it had in real life. In the dream, though, Wayne pulled me up after he hit me and kissed me passionately. His tongue attacked my mouth, and he made me come a second time.
       "Whoa," somebody said.
       The dream was over, and I slowly opened my eyes. There was something heavy obstructing my left eye, and I pulled it away. It was the steak. When I could finally see, I was greeted by Kyle and the sandy-haired boy looking down at me. They were both wearing Speedos that looked more like posing briefs than bathing suits, and they were both at least partially aroused.
       "Wait. Don't move," Kyle said. "Let me get something to clean you up."
       I looked down at the wetness I felt on my stomach and chest, and it was a load of cum. My dick was still hard, and it was poking above the waistband of my bathing trunks.
       My God! I thought. I had had a wet dream. I'm sure my entire body turned red, and I was totally mortified.
       "Don't blush, dude. It ain't nothing," sandy-hair said.
       "I feel like a total fool and complete idiot," I said.
       "Why? You didn't even touch it. We watched you. You were dead asleep," he said.
       "Tell me your name again, please," I said.
       "It's Justin. Justin Davis," he said.
       "Justin, I'm so sorry," I said.
       "For what?! There ain't no shame in a wet dream, man. I don't get 'em, but Brian gets 'em all the time. He swears he dreams about me when he has those things, and that's good enough for me," he said, smiling cutely.
       "Here. Clean yourself up. Don't get it on the sofa, hear?" Kyle said. He handed me several paper towels.
       "It wouldn't be the first time," Justin said, and he and Kyle laughed.
       "Or the last," Kyle said, and they laughed some more.
       I cleaned myself up. Justin lit a cigarette, and he gave me one.
       "Guys, I don't know what to say," I said.
       "There's nothing to say. We came in here to get some beers, and we noticed you. You were kind of mumbling in your sleep, and we saw your hard-on sticking out of the top of your suit. We're the ones who should be apologizing for watching," Kyle said.
       "She must have been mighty hot," Justin said.
       I didn't respond for a second. It was pretty obvious to me that those guys were going to accept me no matter what I was, and if I was ever going to have a life as a gay man, that was a good time to get started.
       "He," I said.
       They both raised their eyebrows high and looked at each other, smiling.
       "Does that mean . . . " Kyle started to say.
       "That I'm gay? Yeah, that's what it means," I said.
       "Dude, all right!" Kyle said. He was pretty enthusiastic.
       "Welcome to the club, Bubba," Justin said. He was using what we called the Emerald Beach Grumble, and he was cute.
       "Do you have a boyfriend?" Kyle asked.
       "No," I said, and I'm sure they detected the sadness in my voice.
       "That guy that hit you was your boyfriend, wasn't he?" Kyle said.
       "Let's put it this way. I wanted him to be my boyfriend," I said.
       "Oh," Justin said.
       "Where are you from?" Kyle asked.
       "Here. I've lived here all my life," I said. "I was born here."
       "Me, too. Where did you go to high school?" Kyle asked.
       "Rutledge," I said. "I'm from the east side of town. You're a Beach Rat, aren't you?"
       "Yes, sir, and proud of it," Kyle said. "Did you go to college?"
       "Yeah. I went to Emerald Coast and then the FSU campus here," I said. "I majored in sociology."
       "What is that?" Justin asked.
       "The study of society, social behavior," I said.
       "And now you do computers?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, well, there isn't much work for sociologists in Emerald Beach," I said. "I took some computer courses in college, but mostly I've gotten my certifications after college."
       "And you're married, or were married, or something?” Kyle said.
       "Yeah, legally and technically I still am married, but the divorce will be final in a couple of weeks," I said. "Guys, I've been gay all my life, and I've known that. I just didn't want to accept that about me. I mean, actually, I was fine with accepting it about me, but I couldn't let anybody else know."
       "We understand," Justin said. "We've talked about that."
       "Is it okay if we tell Tim and Brian about you?" Kyle asked.
       I thought for a few moments. What the fuck? I concluded.
       "Yeah, that would be okay," I said. "Let's keep it in the group here, though, okay? I know Kevin, Rick, and Tony are out at work, but they're bosses. I'm not. I don't want to get hassled about it."
       "We work for Goodson, too," Justin said. "We're all out, and we don't get picked on, do we, Kyle. That's a very liberal company. We know the owner."
       All of a sudden, I realized that what I thought was a coincidence about Kyle's last name maybe wasn't just a coincidence.
       "Kyle, are you related to the Goodson who owns the company?" I asked.
       "Yeah," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, cut the shit, asshole. His daddy owns it, and someday he's going to own it and run it, too," Justin said. "And I'm going to be right there with him, holding his dick so he can hit the urinal."
       They were both sitting on the floor in front of me, and Kyle slammed his body into Justin's, and they both laughed.
       "We'll see. We might want to sell all this shit here and buy us that place in Boston we stayed in last summer," he said. "Either way, you're going to be there, but you ain't touching my dick."
       "How many times have I touched your dick, Kyle? A million? How many times have you touched mine? A million?" Justin asked.
       "About that many," Kyle said, very deadpan.
       "Have you guys been, like . . . "
       "Naw. We ain't been lovers. We just touch each other playing around, is all," Kyle said. "Like in the pool, and what not. He and I flirt like hell, but we're both taken solid. And that's the way we both want it."
       "That sounds pretty good to me," I said. "How old are you guys, anyway? I can't really tell."
       "I'm nineteen and he's a mere eighteen," Justin said.
       "Yeah, nineteen going on twelve," Kyle said.
       Yeah? You're eighteen going on seven, Bubba," Justin said.
       "Does anybody know what time it is?" Kyle asked.
       There was a clock on the mantle, and it said it was almost four.
       "It's almost four o'clock," I said.
       "Shit, I need to go. We're going to Mass tonight," Kyle said. "We'll come home and cook that steak for you."
       "God, Kyle, that's about the grossest thing I ever heard," Justin said.
       "No, it ain't. You've heard a lot grosser stuff from me than that," he said.
       "True," Justin said.
       "Seriously, Ken. I need to square the boat away, get cleaned up, and go to church. We're going to cook after Mass, though. And give that steak to the dogs, okay? Cut it in half first, and give each one of them part of it, okay?" Kyle said.
       "Okay," I said, and off they went.
       * * *
       I debated a while with myself about going to Mass with them. On the one hand, those guys had been so incredibly nice to me, I wanted to be with them. On the second hand, I was pretty self-conscious about being seen in public looking like I did. The beefsteak therapy had helped reduce the swelling, but it was still ugly. On another hand, I wasn't Catholic. On another second hand, I had never been to a Catholic service, and I was curious about what it was like. In the final analysis, I decided to go.
       "If I go to church with y'all, I'll need some better clothes, won't I?" I asked.
       "No, you're fine," Kevin said. "I'm going like I am."
       He was in shorts and a Polo shirt that wasn't tucked in. He had on deck shoes with no socks.
       "Really?" I asked.
       "Yeah. It's the Lord's Supper. It's not a fashion show," he said. "We do encourage shoes, but I've seen 'em there without 'em."
       What a difference from the church I was raised in! In mean, every man in my church had on a business suit. Some of the younger guys were brazen and came in just a dress shirt and tie, but no family men dared do that. I guess the Presbyterians were different in that regard.
       The Mass was pretty interesting, but they had some ceremonies I hadn't ever seen before. There were two preachers, instead of one, but only one gave the sermon. And it was short. Maybe five minutes. I liked that part.
       "Both of those guys up there are gay," Kyle whispered to me.
       "Are they boyfriends?" I whispered back.
       "No. They're celibate. No sex at all, except maybe jerking off solo. I'm not sure about that, but they're not boyfriends," Kyle whispered.
       "Cool. They sound like me," I whispered back to him.
       Kyle and I both started laughing, but we didn't make any noise doing it.
       "What are you laughing at?" Justin whispered, but in a louder whisper than Kyle and I had used. He was three people down.
       "Shut up. We'll tell you later," Kyle whispered back. The whispering was starting to get pretty loud because Justin was so far from us.
       Rick cleared his throat, but it wasn't a real throat-clearing. It was to make us shut up, and we did.
       After church, the two preachers came home with us. They both seemed to be in their late twenties or early thirties, and they seemed like really good guys. One was named Jerry, and one was named Vince. Neither one commented about my eye, which was a lot less swollen than it had been. Maybe that steak had worked.
       The first order of business was eating, and Kyle seemed to be in charge of that. The so-called Townhouse Boys had gone to church with us and were still there, and that was quite a crowd. There were, like, fifteen people there. They served great steaks, corn on the cob, some kind of vegetable casserole with lots of breadcrumbs in it, and with lots of shrimp, too. They had a green salad, rolls, the works. We ate out on the patio by the pool.
       "Don't feed the dogs from your plates, please," Brian said a couple of times.
       I noticed Justin and Kyle both ignoring Brian and handing the dogs chunks of meat.
       "Brian, you are too strict with the dogs," Kyle said.
       "I'm trying to teach them not to beg, Kyle. Those dogs should be over there lying down, not under us while we eat," Brian said.
       "I'm all over that, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but you and Justin have been feeding them, haven't you?"
       "Brian, I just heard the phone ring, and it's for you, Bubba," Kyle said.
       Brian laughed, and the others did, too.
       "Please, guys," Brian said. "I know you're doing it to tease me, but please stop."
       How they could resist him was totally beyond me. I think he was the best-looking boy I had ever seen, and it was pretty clear he was one of the favorites around there.
       "We'll stop, Little Buddy," Justin said, and they apparently did.
       Brian got up and opened one of the French doors into the house.
       "Girls, go to bed," he said, and the dogs went inside.
       "Brian, what the hell are you doing, man? Ain't you going to let them play with us in the pool later?" Kyle demanded.
       "Of course I am, Kyle, but you and Justin keep breaking the rules. We don't want them to get fat, and they will if y'all keep feeding them like that. They already had their dinner," he said. He was adamant.
       "I'm sorry, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Me, too," Justin said.
       "If I'm the dog man, y'all need to do what I say about feeding them," Brian said.
       "Well, you're damn sure the dog man," Kyle said.
       "Please do what Brian says about the dogs, guys. He knows," Kevin said.
       "If everybody's finished, we can clear this shit away," Kyle said. "Then we can get in the pool."
       "Kyle, let's have the grace after meals, okay?" Kevin said.
       "I never heard of that before," Kyle said. "Grace after meals?"
       "Most Catholics don't say it, Kyle, but since we have two priests here tonight, let's do it," Kevin said.
       "That's fine with me," Kyle said.
       "Vince, would you say it, please?" Kevin asked.
       "Sure.
       "We give you thanks, Almighty God, for all your benefits, Who lives and reigns, world without end. Amen.
       "May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."
       "Damn, I didn't even know there was such a thing as a grace after meals," Rick said.
       "That's because you didn't go to Catholic schools," Kevin said. "We said it every day, but I couldn't remember the words."
       "It's a very nice blessing," Rick said. "I thought about my grandpa when he said that last part."
       "That's the point of that, Babe. You remember deceased family every time you eat," Kevin said.
       "For somebody who's not very religious, you know a lot," Rick said.
       "Yeah, I'll admit it. I do," Kevin said. "I had it all drummed into me in school."
       "What else did you have drummed into you at that all-boys school you went to?" Justin asked.
       They all laughed.
       "Not that, damn it," Kevin said, and they all laughed again.
       We had all been in bathing suits for skiing, but we had obviously changed for church. I figured we'd put our suits back on, but I was wrong. It was going to be a skinny dipping occasion.
       "Ken, if you feel uncomfortable swimming nude, it's okay to wear a suit," Kevin said.
       "I don't mind," I said.
       I had read that every guy likes to check out other naked guys, and I was no exception. Seeing that bunch get nude was a veritable feast for the eyes for this newly-out queer. When I saw Brian I knew how unfair nature really was. Not only was he stunningly good looking, but he had the largest penis in the pool, as well. Kyle and Justin were well endowed, too, and everybody else, including me, looked fairly average in size.
       "Does anyone ever get an erection?" I asked Justin.
       "Oh, yeah. All the time. We just ignore 'em, though. It'll go down if you leave it alone," he said.
       In fact, I noticed that Murray was about half hard at that moment. Justin was right. Nobody commented on it, and Murray didn't look a bit embarrassed. Denny was chasing him, and, when he finally caught him, he threw Murray in the pool.
       Rick had Kevin get on his shoulders.
       "Kyle, get up on Justin," Rick said.
       Kyle did as he was told, and the two pairs of fighters went at each other. Those were four very strong men, and they fought hard. Kevin finally succeeded in pulling Kyle off Justin's shoulders, and all four were winded. Kyle wanted to make it the best two out of three, but Kevin and Rick said they needed to catch their breaths.
       The four guys from the townhouse got out and started playing basketball. They were playing two-on-two. It was fun watching their penises flap up and down. In a little while, people started drifting away. Jerry and Vince told everybody good night, and they left. The Townhouse Boys didn't stay very long, either. By nine o'clock, everyone was gone except the residents of the house.
       Tim dispensed towels for us to dry ourselves with.
       "Who wants to shoot some pool?" Kyle asked.
       "I will, but I want the family to talk about something first," Justin said. "I had planned to bring this up this morning, but I really couldn't."
       "What do you want to talk about?" Kyle asked.
       "Wait till we're all inside," Justin said.
       Once we were inside, Rick asked if anyone wanted a nightcap. I had only had a couple of beers that afternoon and a drink before dinner, so I said I'd like one. Kevin, Justin, and Kyle said they'd have one, too. Tim got soft drinks for Brian, Denny, Murray, and himself, and Rick had a Diet Coke.
       "So, what do you want to talk about?" Kyle asked.
       "It's not really about me. It's about Murray," Justin said.
       Everybody looked at Murray. Murray wasn't ugly, but he didn't hold a candle to the other ones. His nose was rather large, as were his lips, and he was fat, at least by the standard of the other boys. He was very effeminate, too. He was the kind of kid other kids picked on instinctively, I thought.
       "What about Murray?" Rick asked.
       "Tell 'em what you told me last night, Murray," Justin said.
       "God, this is embarrassing," Murray said.
       "Son, come over here and sit with me," Rick said.
       He and Kevin were side by side on one of the sofas (the sofa of my afternoon eruption, in fact), and he pushed down so Murray could get between them. Rick put his arm around Murray.
       "Son, one of the things we cherish in this family is that nobody is ever embarrassed with us," Rick said. "You haven't been here very long, but you're definitely fitting in well. Please don't be embarrassed by what you've done."
       "It's not something I've done," Murray said.
       "What is it, then?" Kevin asked.
       "It's what somebody is doing to me at school," he said. He looked like he was scared and close to tears.
       "Is somebody picking on you?" Kyle demanded. He seemed a bit angry.
       "Yeah, and I got the fucker's name," Justin said. He seemed angry, too.
       "Do your brothers need to step into action, Murray?" Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, this morning you told me to grow up. I know you were just teasing, but I'm going to say the same thing to you right now. Grow up," Rick said.
       "Rick, please don't pick on Kyle," Tim said.
       Oh, I saw this developing into a family argument.
       "I'm not picking on Kyle," Rick said, adamantly. "In fact, I told Kevin last night that I think Kyle is becoming more diplomatic. I shouldn't have used that expression just now, and I'm sorry."
       "Kyle, what did you mean by 'step into action'?" Kevin asked.
       "Last year some guys were picking on Chip and Denny. I talked to them and asked them to report to me if they saw people picking on other people. I made them believe I had a whole network of guys who were reporting to me and that I would get physical with those guys if I found out about them. It stopped after that, didn't it, Denny?" Kyle said.
       "I didn't know you had done that, but it definitely stopped," Denny said. "They were picking on us a lot, too."
       "See, that's the kind of thing I meant by stepping into action, Rick," Kyle said. "You and Kevin think all I know how to do is use my fists, and that ain't true, Bubba."
       "Kyle, I really am sorry I said for you to grow up," Rick said. "Did I hurt your feelings?"
       "No, you didn't hurt my feelings, but you pissed me off," Kyle said. "What are they doing to you, Murray?"
       "It's just one kid, Kyle. Marshall Davis," Murray said.
       Kyle immediately looked at Justin.
       "Don't look at me like that, Kyle. I don't know him. I don't know everybody named Davis in the whole fucking world, you know," Justin said.
       "Oh, no? I thought you did," Kyle said.
       "I know one Davis. Me," Justin said. "Oh, and that other guy. What's his name? Washington Davis?"
       "Jefferson Davis," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, that's it. Me and him. That's the only two Davises I know. And ole Jefferson's dead, right?" Justin asked.
       "You've been to his tomb. He better be dead," Kyle said.
       We all laughed. I thought this whole thing was hilarious. Not the part about Murray getting picked on, but the way they were discussing it.
       "Back to the matter at hand. Marshall Davis is picking on Murray. What is he doing to you, Murray?" Rick asked.
       "Calling me names. Shoving me. Knocking my books out of my arms. Trying to trip me. That kind of stuff. A couple of times he said he was going to whip my faggot ass," Murray said.
       "This is going to be an easy fix," Kyle said.
       "What are you going to do?" Rick asked.
       "I don't know yet, but it won't involve getting physical with him, at this point," Kyle said.
       "How many classes do you have with Denny or with Brady?" Brian asked.
       "Only one with Brady, but two with Denny," Murray said.
       "How many do you have with Marshall?" Kyle asked.
       "Only one," Murray said. "Hey, wait a minute, it's before and after that class that he picks on me, too. If I'm with Denny or Brady, he leaves me alone, if I even see him," Murray said.
       "What class and what period?" Kyle asked.
       "Biology. Second period," Murray said.
       "This is a snap. We'll get you in another biology class, and that'll take care of it," Kyle said.
       "I have Honors Biology second period," Denny said.
       "That's what I wanted, but they said it was full," Murray said.
       "It ain't going to be too full for you," Kyle said.
       "Five or six people got out of that class last week," Denny said.
       "See. There you go. You wanted the class. You need to get away from Marshall. There's now room in the class for you. This is way too easy to solve," Kyle said.
       "Plus, you got connections with that Miss Sally lady, don't you?" Justin said.
       "Miss Sally is a very, very good friend of mine. That's true. But this family has resources, not connections. Miss Sally's a resource, not a connection," Kyle said.
       "What's the difference?" Justin asked.
       "I don't know. Two different words, so they must be different, somehow," Kyle said.
       "Ken, you look like you're about to burst out laughing," Kevin said, grinning at me.
       "I am. I can't believe what I'm hearing. They're incredible," I said.
       "Well, you can believe it, Bubba, 'cause it's going to happen," Kyle said.
       "That's not what I meant, Kyle. I know it's going to happen. I meant I can't believe you all are just solving this problem like this," I said.
       "Who is Miss Sally?" Murray asked.
       "She's the principal," Kyle said.
       "You know her?" Murray asked, incredulously.
       "Yeah. She's my friend. And her only child is a gay man, too," Kyle said. "She don't allow any crap, where gay kids are concerned."
       "Murray, Kyle was the president of the Student Government Association last year. He knows the principal very well. And he's right. She'll authorize that transfer, even if the people in Guidance balk at it," Kevin said.
       "Me and Miss Sally are both Beach Rats," Kyle said. "She's way cool. If I wasn't gay, I'd marry that lady."
       "I think Kyle has a crush on Miss Sally," Tim said.
       Kyle actually blushed, and that made everybody laugh.
       "See," Tim said.
       "Shut up, Babe," Kyle said. He was laughing, but I could tell Tim had touched a nerve.
       "Okay, but it's good to know that my only rival is a fifty-something-year-old married woman," Tim said.
       "Shit! Who wants to shoot pool? Do you shoot pool, Ken?" Kyle asked.
       "Sure," I said.
       "Well, come on," he said.
       He and I moved over to the pool table, and Murray moved over there with us.
       "You want to play, too?" Kyle asked him.
       "No. I want to say thank you for figuring out how to handle Marshall. I really do want to be in that honors course, and I really do think that will solve the problem," Murray said.
       "I'm going to be at school first thing in the morning," Kyle said. "It will be taken care of."
       Kyle was as naked as a jaybird, but Murray and I both had towels around our waists. Murray had a very obvious erection under his.
       "Can I have a hug?" Murray asked.
       "Yeah, of course," Kyle said, and they hugged. There was real affection in that hug, too.
       "Damn, what is this thing all about?" Kyle asked, meaning Murray's hard-on.
       "Don't tease me about it, Kyle," Murray said.
       "I ain't going to tease you, but you need to get in the house and take care of that thing. That's a serious one," Kyle said.
       Murray blushed. Kyle kissed him on his forehead, and Murray went inside.
       "All the young ones are like that. They can't control it," Kyle said.
       "Can you?" I asked.
       "No," he said, grinning.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I knew what I had to do, and it wasn't going to be hard.
       I didn't have a class on Monday morning until ten o'clock, so I could have slept late. But, no. I got my ass up when Tim did the day after our talk about Murray. I had something to do that day, and, like my daddy always says, you'd best do it first thing.
       "Are you going to school with us today, Kyle?" Brian asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "I'm very proud of you, Kyle," Brian said.
       That sort of touched my heart a little bit. I tended to take Brian for granted, but we couldn't have been who we were without him. He was the best one to take pictures of because he was so damn good looking, but he was a whole lot more than that.
       "Thank you, Bubba. That means a lot to me," I said, and I choked up a little bit.
       Justin came into the breakfast room and looked at me.
       "What's going on?" he asked.
       "Shut up. Nothing's going on. Your boyfriend is just being nice to me," I said.
       "He's nice to me all the time," he said.
       "I know. I don't want to talk about this," I said.
       "What'd you do? Give him a compliment?" Justin asked Brian.
       Brian grinned.
       "Yes," Brian said. "And he didn't deny it."
       "I figured as much. I'm surprised, though," Justin said.
       "I think he's getting better about that, Buddy," Brian said.
       The other kids were in the breakfast room by then. Nobody had cooked anything that morning, so we were eating cold cereal. I liked cereal just fine, but I was going to stop and get me a couple of sausage biscuits before I went to school. I figured some of them would do the same thing.
       I pulled into a visitor parking place just as the bell was ringing. It would be another ten minutes, at least, before they finished with the morning announcements. I decided to wait in the car.
       "Sir, you can't loiter here," a voice I recognized said.
       "I ain't loitering," I said. When I looked to my left, it was Bill Harmon, the School Resource Office.
       "Fuck. Kyle, I didn't know it was you," he said, grinning and half laughing.
       "Hey, Bill. I got this new ride for graduation. You like it?"
       "Hell, yeah, I like it. This thing cost a damn fortune," he said.
       "Don't tell my parents, okay?" I said.
       He laughed. "Did you have a good summer?"
       "I had a great summer," I said. "I took back up with SCUBA. Me and Philip."
       "Well, that's good. Are you going to take some pictures underwater?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir. I got me a camera I can do that with now," I said.
       "So, what are you doing here?" he asked.
       "I need to talk to Miss Sally about one of my brothers," I said.
       "She's going to be glad to see you, dude. She loves your ass," he said.
       "She ain't the only one," I said.
       He laughed. "Kyle, you are so bad. I don't believe you're really queer," he said.
       "Well, believe it, bubba, 'cause it's true," I said.
       "I know, but you seem like just such a regular guy. You know my little brother's queer, don't you?"
       "I had heard that," I said.
       "Yeah, he is, but he's still my little brother, and ain't nothing changing that," he said.
       "I didn't think so. Bill, are you queer?" I asked.
       "I'm queer for you, Kyle. I want you so bad I can't stand it," he said.
       I just busted up laughing. I knew that boy was joking.
       "I'm reporting your ass to the sheriff for sexually harassing a queer," I said.
       We both laughed.
       "I'm not really gay, but I've thought about it, you know?"
       "I think every guy thinks about it, Bill. You'd know, if you were. Trust me on that," I said.
       "Thanks. That's what my brother says, too. I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'm straight," he said.
       "Cool. That's about the same percent sure I am that I'm gay," I said. "I need to go talk to Miss Sally, though, so I've got to go."
       "Call me up sometime. We can hang out or something," he said.
       "I'll do it, Bill," I said.
       I liked that boy a lot. He was probably twenty-three or twenty-four years old, and I didn't think the girls were lining up to get a piece of him. He weighed a lot more than I thought sheriffs could weigh, but maybe they made an exception for him because he was a School Resource Officer. I decided I would call him to go out or come over. It sounded like he needed friends.
       "KYYYYYYYLE!" Miss Sally screamed when she saw me.
       That was the thing about her. She was uninhibited, and that was one of the things I liked about her.
       "MISS SALLLLLLLLLY," I screamed, just as loud as her.
       We hugged right there in the lobby of the school. She looked really good that morning.
       "What are you doing here?" she asked.
       "I want to talk to you. I know I should have made an appointment, but it's kind of urgent," I said.
       "Well, come into my office. I've missed you," she said.
       "I've missed you, too," I said.
       I told her about the deal with Murray, and she said that was absolutely no problem. She told the lady on the desk to call Murray out of class to Guidance. I heard her do that, and I knew Murray was moving on to safety.
       "Tell me about your summer," she said. "Did you do any crabbing?"
       "Yes, ma'am, I did a little bit of crabbing, but my brothers rebelled and wouldn't pick 'em out. I switched to lobster hunting," I said.
       "Ohhhh. Shovelnose?" she asked.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Do you like 'em?"
       "Kyle, I love them. They're the best lobsters to me," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am, I think so, too. You're going to have some this coming weekend," I said.
       "I wasn't begging," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am, I know you weren't, but I can get so many. I don't even know what to do with them all," I said. "If you don't get 'em this coming weekend, you'll get 'em the next time I go diving. That's a promise. Philip Andrews and Ryan Pettis are coming home for Labor Day Weekend from Tallahassee, and Philip and I will get you a bushel basket of 'em," I said.
       "How are Philip and Ryan doing?" she asked.
       "They're doing really good. I've talked to Philip a couple of times, and they are absolutely loving FSU," I said.
       "I don't know that I'll ever see another class quite like yours, Kyle. You and Philip set the tone for your class," she said.
       "I don't exactly know what you mean, but we had a good time. And we made an A in the school grade thing," I said.
       "Yes, we did, and I've had calls from high schools all over the state to find out how we did it. We've scheduled people from six different schools to visit us," she said. "And Kyle, having people from all over the state of Florida wanting to visit your school is about the biggest high a principal can get. It was your idea, too, wasn't it? The mentoring program."
       "You're the principal. You get the credit. Not me. I'm just a kid, Miss Sally. You know that," I said.
       "Kyle, you are so not a kid, at least the way I think of kids," she said.
       I laughed pretty hard at that.
       "I want to go to work, but my daddy won't let me," I said.
       "Your daddy knows what he's doing, Kyle. You don't need the money from a job, and you know it," she said.
       How'd she know that?
       "Yes, ma'am, I get pocket change. I can buy me a candy bar, if I want to," I said.
       "Or a candy factory?"
       "I'm not going there," I said.
       I accomplished my mission for Murray at Beachside High School that morning, and I felt really good. I stopped and got me three sausage biscuits. I went home, poured me some coffee, and ate them all up.

Chapter 07

(Kyle's Perspective)
       We called it the Beta Rho Fraternity, but it really was more like a social club of all guys than a real fraternity. I mean, some of the stuff was like a regular fraternity. You had to be asked to join it; you couldn't just sign up. We had a set of by-laws that said what kind of officers we had, what the fraternity did, and shit like that, but those were like two single-spaced typed pages. To show you how organized it was, when they wanted to give us new members a copy of it, nobody could find one. They had to end up calling the older brother of one of the officers to see if he still had his from when he was in it. He did, so they didn't have to go through the trouble of writing it up all over again.
       "Isn't there a copy on file with the Student Activity Board?" I asked Skeeter McGhee, our president and the guy who asked me to join.
       "I don't know. I didn't think of that, Kyle. Hell, you ought to be the president, not me," he said.
       "Not me," I said. "I'm only going to be in it one year."
       "Oh, that's right. Well, you'll have fun, though. How about being Service Chairman?" he asked.
       "What does he do?" I asked.
       "We do some service projects, you know? he said.
       "Like what?" I asked.
       "Well, like helping the old ladies at the retirement center get laid," he said.
       I laughed hard at how serious he had said that.
       "You don't believe me?" he asked. He was laughing at his own foolishness.
       "Hell, no, I don't believe you," I said. "But if it's for real, I'll help, as long as I don't have to do it."
       "Kyle, that's gross, man. All those damn loose, saggy-ass pussies. Ewww. No thank you," he said.
       "What? I thought you wanted pussy any time you could get it," I said.
       "Well, I do, but not my grandma's pussy," he said. "I like 'em young, tight, succulent. You know what I'm saying?"
       "Well, not first hand, I don't," I said. "I can imagine, though."
       "Oh, that's right. I forget you're queer. You need to get you something, like an earring or something like that, to remind us so we don't say stupid shit and embarrass you," he said.
       "You ain't going to embarrass me. There are some other gay boys in this thing, too, you know?"
       "Yeah, I know. Kyle, nobody really gives a fuck, okay? Don't ever forget that. You're our friends and our brothers, and every last one of y'all is a Beach Rat, just like me. That's really all that matters," he said.
       I never thought he would be that open-minded, that's for sure. I mean he was likeable as hell, and I remembered that he almost didn't graduate from high school because of all the shit he stayed in. One time his daddy was all set to send his ass to military boarding school, but somehow he squirmed his way out of that. His family has a chain of Waffle House and Waffle Shop restaurants, and one day Skeeter and his brother were going to run the whole thing. That's when I would stop eating waffles.
       "So, Kyle, are you going to do it, or not?" he asked.
       "Do what? Fuck the old ladies at the retirement home?" I asked.
       "No, asshole. Not that. Be our Service Chairman," he said.
       "Yeah, I guess I'll do that," I said. "What do I have to do?"
       "Line up and organize some service projects, that's what. First, talk to people who are having events and shit to find out what kind of help they need. Then, make a list to present to the officers. We'll decide which ones we can do and which ones we want to do," he said.
       "You mean like charities and shit like that?" I asked.
       "Yeah, that's exactly right. Now, we've got some standing ones we do every year. For instance, the College has a public radio station, and every year, twice a year, in fact, they have an on-air fund raising. We always man the phones for them. People call in with their pledges, and we take down the information. We also help out with the Emerald Coast Seafood Festival in October, the Ironman in November, the Optimist Club Christmas tree lot in December. We usually do about ten or twelve a year. Or at least we did last year. I guess that's the usual number," he said.
       "Does somebody have records on all of this from last year?" I asked.
       "Maybe. Maybe not. We're not too good about keeping up with stuff," he said.
       "Sounds like me," I said.
       "I figured that. It's a good thing we've got guys who have been members for four or five years. They remember stuff," he said.
       "We have guys who've been members four or five years? It ain't but a two-year college. How can that be?" I asked.
       "Yeah, but don't everybody go through in just two years. I figure it's going to take me three, at the least," he said.
       I thought about ole Brian and Tim, wanting to get through as fast as they could. I figured Justin would probably take three years, if we were going to be here, but he had some very good reasons for that. Me, I wanted to be out of school as fast as I could. I was not a natural-born school boy the way my boyfriend was, and I knew it.
       "So, who might have the records?" I asked.
       He said a name that I didn't know. Something Johnson, I think he said. He said he'd talk to the boy about them, though.
       Skeeter and I were sitting in an outdoor area at the Student Union. It was hot outside, but he wanted to smoke, and you couldn't smoke anywhere indoors. He checked his watch.
       "I've got to go to class," he said. "I'll get those records for you. Thanks for doing it, man. You're going to be good at it. Catch you later."
       "Okay. Catch you later," I said.
       Skeeter McGhee was a very high-spirited boy. Senior year, his girlfriend turned up pregnant. I was a junior, and she was in my class. I really liked her, and she and I were pretty good friends. She told me the news about the baby one day, just a-crying her eyes out. I tried to be sympathetic because she was so upset, but I thought, Don't you know about birth control? Of course, I didn't say anything.
       Getting your girlfriend pregnant in high school was a two-edged sword. On one edge, all your guy friends thought you were a stud and an awesome cocksman, and all. They all wanted a play-by-play about how it happened, like they didn't know. On the other edge, though, was all the shit you had to take from all the girls, from her parents, from your parents, and even from some of the teachers who thought they were there to raise us and not just teach us. Then, when the baby came, something had to be done with it. And somebody had to support it.
       Ole Skeeter managed to dodge the bullet, though. His girlfriend had a miscarriage, or some shit like that. I figured she had an abortion, but I kept my mouth shut about that. Anyway, there was no baby forthcoming, and she gave Skeeter his walking papers soon after that was all over with.
       "Who was that guy you were talking to?" Justin asked me when I went back into the Union to cool off.
       "That was Skeeter McGhee. He's the president of Beta Rho. Let me get a bottle of water. I'm burning up," I said.
       I got a bottle of cold water and went back to Justin's table.
       "He suckered me into being Service Chairman. I've got to line up all the service projects we do," I said.
       "If he had any sense, he'd have made you entertainment chairman so you could put on some parties and dinners and whatnot," he said.
       "I think I'm going to enjoy this, though. It'll be like my volunteer job," I said.
       "I thought you were going to work at the UCP place," Jus said.
       "That's what I wanted to do, but they didn't really have anything for me. They needed somebody to work in the infant stimulation program they have. I wasn't interested in working with babies. They need a girl or a woman to do that," I said. "The only other job they had was grounds keeper, and there's nothing to that. I mean, once you call the lawn service, the job is done," I said.
       "Call the lawn service? You think that's what they wanted the grounds keeper to do? They wanted the grounds keeper to be the lawn service, Kyle. Not hire the lawn service. Have you ever cut grass?" he asked.
       "No. Have you?" I asked.
       "A few times, yeah. It's hard work. Sweaty. Nasty," he said. "I don't know how to tell you this, Kyle, but most people do their own lawns."
       "Yeah, I guess you're right. We never did that stuff in my family, and Kevin and Rick don't do it, either," I said.
       "That's 'cause they're rich. They can afford to have a lawn service. Most people can't afford that, or don't want to spend their money that way," he said. "You've got a lot to learn about a poor man's life, son."
       "I guess I do," I said. "But do I really want to learn it?"
       "Yeah, you do, and here's why. One day you're going to have a whole lot of people working for you who won't be poor, exactly, but they won't be rich, either. You have to be able to understand where they're coming from on different things. Let's take a yard as an example, since that's what we've been talking about. A lot of people take a lot of pride in their yards, and it's damn hard work. Let's say one day your secretary comes in all excited because she got 'Yard of the Month' in her neighborhood. You've got to know that she did more than just design the yard and supervise the people who made it happen. Or, in the case of your family, pick out the design she liked best from the designs the landscaper proposed," he said.
       I was soaking up everything he was saying because I knew he had more practical experience with that kind of thing than I did. When my parents built their new house, the landscape architect really did just present several different plans for them to choose from. They even asked my opinion and Tim's opinion about which one we liked best. Or which combination. All the gardens at their house--front, back, and both sides--are beautiful, but neither one of my parents ever turned the first spade of dirt.
       "Justin, I feel like I've learned a whole lot in these last fifteen minutes talking to you about this. You need to keep this kind of stuff up. I'm counting on you," I said.
       "Kyle, you and Kevin and Rick have taught me so much about how rich people live and do things, I can't even list it all. Y'all keep teaching me about being rich, and I'll keep teaching you about being poor, and maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle," he said.
       "That sounds real good, but let's meet on the rich side of the middle, okay?" I said.
       He laughed.
       "You shit," he said.
       "Call me a shit all you want to, Bubba, but the fact of the matter is, you're never going to be poor again," I said.
       He got quiet, and I knew he was thinking.
       "I guess you're right," he said. Big tears were glistening in his eyes. They weren't rolling yet, but they were right there on ready. "I hadn't really ever thought about that before. I guess my life made a bigger change than I thought when y'all rescued me that day."
       He dabbed at his eyes with a paper napkin.
       "Let me buy you an ice cream bar out of that case over there," I said.
       "You shithead," he said.
       We both laughed.
       "I mean it. I want one, too," I said.
       "Get 'em. I can eat one," he said.

(Tim's Perspective)
       It was hard going back to school without Kyle being there. When he was a senior, I didn't really see him that much during the school day, but I knew he was there. He made the morning announcements every day, and I loved watching him on TV. Then we always went to lunch together with the rest of the guys, and I'd see him then. We didn't kiss, or even touch except incidentally, at lunch, but just being in the same room with Kyle made me happy.
       The other thing I didn't really like was I was the only senior. It was like it fell to me to keep our group at Beachside High School together and organized. Brian and I were a team, sort of, but even he looked to me for leadership. Kyle and Justin were the leader types. Brian and I were the followers. Chad was a junior like Brian, but he had almost no leadership ability that I could tell.
       "Who's going to lunch with us?" Brian asked me the first day of school.
       "I don't know. Help me figure it out," I said.
       I had a car, and Brian had a car, so nine guys could go with us, four in mine and five in Brian's.
       "Well, you, me, Denny, Murray, Brady, Chip, Chad," Brian said. "That's seven. Does anybody else need to go?"
       "David used to go with us sometimes last year," I said. "But I haven't talked to him since school was out. I don't even know if he still goes here."
       "If we see him, let's invite him," Brian said.
       A week later, after we had met the new next door neighbors, Wade and Reid, we invited them to join us for lunch, too. They both wanted to go to lunch with us after we explained it, and that took some weight off me. They were both seniors, too, and we were back up to three seniors in our group.
       * * *
       We planned a big bash for Labor Day. Craig and Cherie were coming with little Rob, and we couldn't wait to see them.
       "Who are these people?" Murray asked.
       "It's my brother, his wife, and my nephew," Kevin said.
       "How old is the nephew?" Murray asked.
       "He's just a little over two months old. He was born on Justin's birthday on July Fourth," Kevin said.
       "I wish Grandma and Grandpa were coming," Kyle said. "Why aren't they, any way?"
       "They're in Europe right now, Kyle. It's their vacation," Kevin said.
       "They need to plan that better next year so they can be here with us," Kyle said. "What about your parents, Rick?"
       "They're tied up with school stuff, Kyle. Now that Arnie is Superintendent, he's got to be there," Rick said. "They want to see Rob in the worst way, but they can't come."
       "I think it sucks that a family can't be together on a sacred day like Labor Day," Kyle said.
       "A sacred day?" Rick asked.
       "Ain't it religious?" Kyle asked. "I thought that was the day Mary went into labor for Jesus."
       "Kyle, think about it, Babe. If she went into labor at the start of September, and Jesus wasn't born until December 25th, that would have been way too long," I said.
       "Well, what is Labor Day for?" Kyle asked.
       "It's the holiday for the labor unions, Kyle. It celebrates the importance of labor and labor unions in our country," Kevin said.
       "Oh. I didn't know that," Kyle said, and I didn't, either.
       For us, Labor Day was the end of the summer season. The transformation of the beaches was remarkable. It was still summer, of course, but the number of people visiting fell from 30,000 a weekend to 3,000 a weekend after Labor Day. Gradually through September things quieted down, and by the first weekend in October there were few tourists in the area.
       * * *
       The baby still didn't do much, but he could hold his head up and sort of look around.
       "When's he going to start to crawl?" Kyle asked.
       "Not for several more months," Cherie said. "He strong, and he's been gaining weight right on schedule. He should be scooting around by the time he's six months old."
       "I can't wait till he can walk and talk," Kyle said. "We're going to have some fun with him, that's for sure."
       "How is college?" Cherie asked Kyle and Justin.
       "It's all right, I reckon," Justin said. "I'm doing pretty good in math, which I was scared of at first. I'm learning how to take pictures, too."
       "Really? Do you have any to show?" Cherie asked.
       "Yeah. Let me get 'em," Justin said.
       He was proud of his pictures, but I think Kyle was even prouder of Justin's pictures than Justin was.
       "Ain't they good?" Kyle asked.
       "They're not as good as yours," Justin said.
       "Yeah, maybe not, but those are the first ones you ever took, Bubba. Give yourself some credit," Kyle said.
       "This sunset is beautiful, Jus," Cherie said.
       Justin beamed.
       "I want him to get himself a good camera," Kyle said.
       "What camera have you been using?" Cherie asked.
       "A rental from the college," Jus said. "I want to get me one, but I want to make sure I like taking pictures first before I put a lot of money into a camera."
       "That makes sense," she said.
       Kyle and Philip Andrews, who was home for the weekend, went SCUBA diving Saturday morning, and they came back with two huge crates of those shovelnose lobsters. Kyle filled up a small hamper with those, and he and I took them over to Miss Sally's house.
       Kyle rang the doorbell, and we waited. Miss Sally came to the door.
       "Hi, guys. Happy Labor Day," she said.
       "Hi, and same to you," Kyle said. "I brought you some lobsters."
       "Great! You said you would, and I was hoping you wouldn't forget," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am," Kyle said. "Where do you want them?"
       "Would you mind bringing them into the kitchen?" she asked.
       "Sure," Kyle said.
       We took the hamper into the kitchen and set it on the counter next to the sink.
       "Would you guys like a coke or something?" she asked.
       "No, ma'am, but thanks. We've got to go. We've got a house full back at Kevin and Rick's," Kyle said.
       "Listen, thank you so much for the lobsters. We're having a gathering on Monday, and those will be a big hit," she said.
       "Good. I think I'd probably dress 'em and freeze 'em, if I were you," Kyle said. "Do you know how to dress 'em?"
       "I don't, but I'm sure my husband does. He's not here right now, but he'll be home in a little while," she said.
       "Well, if he doesn't know how, tell him to call me. I'll come over and show him how to do it," Kyle said.
       "Okay. Thanks again, fellows," she said.
       "Don't mention it," Kyle said.
       "Tim, I haven't really seen you much yet this year. How are your classes going?" she asked as she was walking us out.
       "They're going great. I have Mr. Lawley for calculus, and he's the best teacher I've ever had," I said. "And, he's a friend of ours."
       "Oh, I know. Mike's a marvelous teacher. I wish I could clone him," she said. "Is everything working out for the other boy? What was his name, Kyle?"
       "Murray Schultz. Yes, ma'am, everything's fine now. We're trying to help him lose some weight. He's been on the Weight Watchers diet, and so far he's lost six pounds," Kyle said. "This is part of his total makeover. We're working on him being less sissified, too."
       "Don't press too hard with his mannerisms, Kyle. He might not be able to help the way he is," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am, I know that, but there are some things he can do to be more masculine. It's just a question of him remembering to do it," Kyle said.
       "Did he ask you for help with that?" she asked.
       "Yes, ma'am, he did. Miss Sally, we don't make fun of people," Kyle said.
       "I didn't think you did," she said.
       "Well, we need to get going. Have a good holiday," Kyle said.
       "You, too, guys. And thanks again for the lobsters."
       "I didn't realize Murray had asked you for help being more masculine," I said, once we were back in the car.
       "Yeah, he asked me and Justin," Kyle said.
       "What kinds of things did you tell him to do? Or not do?" I asked.
       "Have you noticed how he crosses his legs when he sits down? When you and I cross our legs we put the ankle of one leg over the knee of the other one. Murray puts knee on knee. That's the way a lady does it," Kyle said.
       "I hadn't thought about that, but you're right," I said.
       "When he puts his hands on his hips, he turns his hands up. You and I turn our hands down. Justin's got this thing with the way Murray holds a cigarette. He's working on that with him. Trouble is, Murray doesn't smoke enough for it to make much impact," Kyle said.
       "Speaking of smoking, you've quit, haven't you?" I said.
       He shrugged.
       "It never bothered me when you were smoking," I said.
       "I still smoke sometimes, especially when I'm around Philip and Ryan," he said.
       "Did you smoke today with Philip?" I asked.
       "No," he said. "But talking about it is making me want one."
       I laughed, and he did, too.
       "Kyle, I love you so much," I said. "I can't even imagine somebody being able to take your place in my life."
       "I love you, too, but what brought that on?" he asked.
       "I don't know. I just felt like saying it, I guess," I said.
       We were nearing our driveway, and another car had just pulled up. Seth and Curt from New Orleans got out of it.
       "Look who's here," Kyle said.
       We had a big reunion with Seth and Curt, and there was a lot of hugging and handshaking all around. Every time we saw Seth he looked better and better, and it was hard to imagine that the boy we saw that day had once been a scrawny, ugly bean pole.
       All of our friends came, too, and so did the neighbors on both sides. It was a mob of people, and Cherie was the only woman there.
       We all took turns tending to the baby so Cherie could get involved with some of the activities outside. She wore a swim suit for everything, skiing and pool. Kyle and I didn't know what to do about the situation, so Kyle discussed the matter with Craig.
       "Is Cherie going to be embarrassed if some of the guys get naked?" he said.
       "Kyle, if anybody should be embarrassed, it's you for showing that pitiful little thing you've got," Craig said.
       "Very funny," Kyle said, "but that's not what I meant."
       "I know it's not, but I couldn't resist," Craig said. "Actually, she mentioned that on the way over."
       "Y'all talked about my dick on the way over here?" Kyle asked, trying to sound shocked but not really succeeding.
       "Yeah. She asked me if you have one," Craig said.
       "What did she really say?" Kyle asked.
       "She said she hoped that her being here wouldn't inhibit anyone when it came to skinny dipping. Those were her exact words," Craig said.
       "Are you going to swim naked?" I asked.
       "I'm going to wait to see what Kevin and Rick do," Craig said.
       "That's a good idea," Kyle said. "Let's you and me do that, too, Babe."
       "Okay," I said. I felt sort of relieved.
       As it turned out, nobody took their suits off as long as Cherie was outside, but we did when she went inside after dinner that night to watch a movie that Jeff had brought over. I figured that sooner or later Cherie would see all of us naked, and I also knew she couldn't care less if we wore suits or not. It was just one of those taboos that was hard to break, I guess.

(Cherie's Perspective)
       I loved it in Emerald Beach, and every time I was there I marveled more and more at the wonderful thing that was taking place in that house. They had a new one that I hadn't met before. Murray, and he seemed to fit in right along with the rest of them. He was rather effeminate and somewhat overweight, but that didn't seem to bother the other guys.
       The main reason for our going was the holiday, of course, but I also had a little bit of business to transact with Kyle. I was able to drag him away from playing for a little while on Sunday afternoon, and he and I met in the study with the door closed.
       "Whacha got for me?" he asked, all grins.
       "I need your signature on some documents, kind sir," I said.
       "For you, I'll do anything," he said.
       God! What a charmer, I thought.
       I explained to him what the documents were all about. He paid polite attention, but I could tell he wasn't the least bit interested in what I was telling him.
       "So, right now your holdings are worth a little more than sixteen million dollars," I said.
       That actually got his attention.
       "Whoa! That's quite a bit, isn't it?" he said.
       "Yes, it is," I said. "And it's in extremely safe securities. The accountant asked me to check to make sure you're getting your check every month. You are, aren't you?"
       "Yes, ma'am," he said.
       I started to give him a flippant reply, but I knew he wasn't trying to tease me by using "ma'am."
       "So what are you doing with them? You've only cashed one of them since November," I said.
       "I don't need that much money," he said. "I guess I should just put them in my savings account or something, huh?"
       "Yes. Don't leave checks lying around. Where are they right now?" I asked.
       "In my car," he said.
       I controlled my urge to scream at him.
       "When we're finished, I want you to go get them out of your car and take them up to your room," I said. "And Tuesday I want you to deposit them."
       "Okay," he said. "Cherie, I want to talk to you about money for my brothers."
       I knew that was coming. He had told me months ago that he wanted to bestow money on Tim, Justin, and Brian. I had encouraged him to wait until they were eighteen, but he actually couldn't do what he wanted to do until he turned twenty-one. Evidently, I hadn't made that clear to him.
       "Kyle, I know you do, baby, but you can't do that right now," I said.
       "Why not? Justin's nineteen," he said. "You said I had to wait until they turned eighteen."
       "I know I told you that, and that's true. Evidently I didn't fully explain everything. Kyle, the way your trust is set up makes it impossible for you to get to the principal until you're twenty-one. When you turned eighteen, you started getting a portion of the dividends every month. You're not getting money from the principal. In fact, most of the dividends are being reinvested, too. That's why the amount keeps growing. When you turn twenty-one, you get full control over the whole thing. That's when you can set up trusts, or something similar, for your guys," I said.
       "Damn," he said.
       "Does Justin need money right now?" I asked.
       "No, not especially, but I want him to feel secure and independent," he said.
       "Do the boys know you plan to do this?" I asked.
       "No, you told me not to tell them," he said. "And I haven't."
       "I think it would be prudent to wait until Brian turns eighteen before you give anybody anything," I said. "How much were you thinking?"
       "I don't know. Two million apiece, I guess," he said.
       "That would leave you ten million, at least," I said. "You could live well on the dividends from that much money."
       "About how much would they get from two million?" he asked.
       "It's hard to know, for sure, but I would guess about seventy-five thousand a year, give or take," I said. "They could live on that amount, I'm pretty sure. Unless they become international playboys, or something."
       "Well, I guess there's not much point in talking about it until I can actually do it," he said.
       "That's true," I said. "Do you understand now how this thing works?"
       His mood had taken a decided downward turn.
       "Yeah," he said.
       "I know this is depressing to you, but it's exactly how I would have set it up. Look at the bright side. You and your boys have a wonderful life here. You've got everything you need. You're surrounded by people who love you. You're all very happy and well adjusted. There will come a time when you'll be able to make those three guys financially independent. In the meantime, just have fun with your boys," I said.
       "Would you ever consider leaving Craig and marrying me?" he asked in total deadpan.
       That took me totally by surprise, and I started laughing.
       "I guess that's a 'no,'" he said.
       "You are something else," I said, still laughing in delight at him. "Would you leave Tim for me?"
       "No, it would be the three of us, and Rob, of course," he said.
       "Ah ha! There's the ulterior motive. You want that baby, don't you?"
       Now it was his turn to laugh.
       "You see right through me," he said.
       "Maybe some day you and Tim will have a son of your own," I said.
       "Oh, we will. You can count on that," he said.
       "That's really all I have for today," I said. "We can go play some more."
       We stood up to leave. He took me in his arms to hug me like any man would any woman. I found myself becoming slightly aroused at his touch, and his Speedo did nothing to conceal his own reaction. For an instant, I wondered just how gay Kyle really was. We separated.
       "That was nice. Thank you," I said. "And you seem to have enjoyed it, too."
       He looked down at his crotch.
       "Oh, my God! I can't believe you said that. I'm so embarrassed," he said.
       "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
       "No! I want to hide in shame. Please don't tell anybody about what happened," he said.
       "I can't tell anybody, and I wouldn't even if I could. Not even Craig," I said.
       "Oh, Jesus, please don't tell him. I'm so sorry, Cherie. I'll never do anything like that again. I promise," he said. "I really didn't do it on purpose."
       "Kyle, you don't have anything to be ashamed of, and I know you didn't do anything on purpose. Think about it from my point of view, though," I said.
       "What?"
       "I turned on a gay guy. Or started to, at least, and I wasn't even trying. You just sent my ego through the roof, and I can't say a damn thing about it to anybody," I said.
       "I love you, Cherie, but not like that. I feel like I've been unfaithful to Tim, or something," he said.
       "Well, you haven't been unfaithful to Tim. It's ridiculous to think that way, Kyle. Are you okay now?" I asked.
       "Yeah," he said.
       I looked at the bulge in his suit. It was large, but not any larger than it usually was. I left that meeting aching for a piece of Craig.

(Seth's Perspective)
       Whenever I went to Emerald Beach, I felt as though I had come home to my family. The weeks I had spent there the summer before had been the happiest time of my life, and walking into that house brought back all those good memories.
       Curt and I were very much in love, and we had both decided that our relationship was the most important thing in our lives. He was a sophomore at UNO, and I was a freshman at Tulane. We lived in half of a shotgun house in Mid-City near City Park, so it was about equally convenient for both of us. Shotgun houses are duplexes, with the rooms lined up one behind the other. The saying was that you could shoot a shotgun into the front door, and the shot would fly out the back door without hitting anything. I don't know if anybody had ever tested that, but it certainly seemed possible.
       Our house had been renovated and modernized a few years before by our landlords, a thirties-something gay couple of long duration who lived in the other half of the house. There was no off-street parking, and that was a bit of a problem sometimes, but otherwise the place was great. The small back yard wasn't divided in half, and they had landscaped it beautifully. It even had a hot tub that both sides shared.
       One of the guys who lived next door worked for the New Orleans Museum of Art, and the other one had a job in the finance office of a local hospital. They were great guys, but they didn't know we were gay when they rented the place to us. When they found that out, they sort of took us under their wings, like we were their little brothers or something.
       "How do you like Tulane, Seth?" Craig asked me while we were lounging around on the patio.
       "So far, so good," I said. "It's only been a few weeks, but so far, I like it."
       "Have you pledged a frat?" he asked.
       "Naw. I decided not to do that," I said. "My dad was a little disappointed, I think, but he'll get over it."
       "That would be kind of difficult with Curt at UNO," he said.
       "That's what I thought, too. I'm going to be in activities, though. I talked to them at The Hullabaloo, and I'm going to be working on their staff," I said.
       "A reporter?" Craig asked.
       "Features, not news," I said.
       "I tried to get him to write sports, thinking maybe we could get some free tickets for games, but he wasn't interested," Curt said.
       "You have to know something about sports to write sports stories, and you have to care, which I don't," I said.
       Craig and the guys around us laughed.
       "I think he's making a very good point, Curt," Craig said. "Although you've really bulked up, Bubba."
       "Thanks. We both have," I said.
       "True, but you had further to go than he did," Craig said.
       "The new guy seems really nice," I said, changing the subject to get it away from me.
       "Yeah, but he's a little bit Tinkerbellish," Craig said. "Not that it matters. I just feel for guys like that because I know they get picked on more than other guys do. Even the straight Tinkerbells do."
       "Well, if I know Kyle and this bunch here, they'll make sure he's safe," I said. "He looks to me like maybe he's Jewish. Does he to you?"
       "You're learning how to spot Jews, and you've only been at Tulane a month," Craig said.
       "Well, there are quite a few Jews at that school," I said. "It's a refreshing change from the Catholic ghetto I've lived in all my life."
       "I know what you mean. I remember thinking that I could finally say 'Jesus Christ!' as an expletive and half the people didn't bow their heads," Craig said.
       It so happened that everybody in that little group was Catholic, and we all roared with laughter.
       "What's so funny? What are y'all laughing at?" Kyle asked as he came out of the house.
       I told him what Craig had said, and most of us laughed again.
       "I don't get it," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, in Catholic school we were taught to always bow our heads slightly when you said, or heard somebody else say, the name 'Jesus.' It got to be a habit," Craig said, "and you'd see guys doing it if somebody let out that name in anger or in a game or something. Or even if they said it themselves. It's just one of the little things about life in the Catholic ghetto of New Orleans."
       "That, and making the sign of the cross when you pass a church," I said. "I broke myself of that habit when I was in high school and had to take city busses to school sometimes. A lot of people on the bus did it, though."
       "I still do that occasionally, and Cherie does it every time," Craig said.
       "That's pretty cool, I think. It's like a secret handshake or something," Kyle said. "Of course, over there, there are so many churches that you pass all the time."
       "Exactly," I said.
       "What other stuff like that did y'all do?" Kyle asked.
       "Gosh, I don't know," Craig said. "In high school there would be periodic unannounced rosary checks. Are they still doing that?"
       "Oh, yes," I said.
       "They did that at my high school in Baton Rouge, too," Curt said.
       "Well, yeah. It's the same order," I said.
       "So what's a rosary check?" Kyle asked.
       "We were required to have a rosary on us at all times, and you'd get in trouble if you didn't have one," Craig said.
       "Did you need 'em for school?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. We used to say a decade of the rosary every day after lunch," I said. "And for some reason they thought it was necessary to have a physical rosary in your hand to do it right. My father still carries his rosary in his pocket all the time."
       "Mine does, too," Craig said. "I'm not sure he ever says the rosary, but he's always got it handy if he needs it. Cherie's always got one in her purse, and my mother probably does, too. Habits of a lifetime."
       "Oh, another thing. Holy water fonts in the classrooms. Every classroom had one, and I had a friend who had them all over his house," Craig said.
       "That would be me," Curt said. "There was one in every bedroom. I always thought it would be convenient to have one in the bathroom so you wouldn't have to wash your hands after you took a leak. I, for one, never pissed on my hand, and I never knew why they insisted I wash up afterward."
       Craig and Father Jerry almost fell off their chairs, they were laughing so hard.
       "And did you have a sick call set in the house?" Jerry asked.
       "Had? Hell, we still do. We got one as a wedding present," Craig said.
       "What is that?" Kyle asked.
       "It's basically a crucifix that comes apart. The bottom half forms a stand that you can put the crucifix in to stand up straight on a table. There are also a couple of little candles for either side of the crucifix. Kind of like birthday candles. And a little bottle of holy water, I think," Craig said. "You use that when somebody in the house is dying and the priest comes to give them the last rites."
       "You got that for your wedding?" Kyle asked. "That's kind of morbid."
       "Oh, that's very much a traditional Catholic wedding gift," Jerry said. "In the Boston area, that's what the bride's godmother gives the couple."
       "Damn, I'm learning a lot about you Catholics," Kyle said.
       "You Catholics?" Jerry asked.
       "Us Catholics, I should have said," Kyle said.
       "I've always been fascinated by the fact that we have devotions to various bodily organs," Jerry said.
       "Like what?" Kyle asked.
       "I hadn't thought about that, but you're right, Jerry," I said.
       "Like what?" Kyle asked again, that time with more vehemence.
       "Well, the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The Immaculate Heart of Mary. The Holy Face. The Precious Blood. And, until a few decades ago, the Circumcision of Jesus," Jerry said.
       "The Circumcision of Jesus?! What the hell are you talking about, man? The Holy Dick, or something?" Kyle asked.
       "Well, we never called it the Holy Dick, but New Year's Day used to be the feast of the Circumcision of Jesus," Jerry said. "Now it's called the Solemnity of Mary, which is a meaningless concept, I think. I think they changed it for reasons of political correctness and decorum. That devotion to organs has always been there, though."
       Kyle was laughing his ass off over that, but I had actually heard priests say that January first was the day we celebrated the circumcision of Jesus. It was the eighth day of the life of Jesus, if you considered December 25th to be his real birthday, and that would have been the day He was circumcised according to Jewish law at the time.
       "I'm a new Catholic, so I don't know about all of this," Kyle said. "Are we supposed to believe Jesus was circumcised?"
       "It's not a major dogma, or anything like that, but he was Jewish, Kyle. He must have been circumcised," Jerry said.
       "Damn. I never thought about that," Kyle said. "I think about dicks a good bit, but I've never thought about Jesus' dick before."
       That time Jerry did fall out of his chair laughing, but he caught himself before he hit the ground. If he had fallen, none of us would have been able to help him up because we were all weak with laughter, too.
       * * *
       "I had a great time," Curt said as we were driving home on Monday. "Those guys are incredible."
       "I can't agree more, but you're pretty incredible yourself, Babe," I said.
       "If I am, then so are you. It takes one to know one," he said.

Chapter 08

(Jerry's Perspective)
       One of the best things I had ever done was put a move on Rick Mashburn at the health club. Actually, doing it was despicable and something I was ashamed of then and now, but that opened the gate to my friendship with Rick, Kevin, their boys, their friends, and the Reverend Vincent Vickers. As a result of my lustful act at the gym, I gained a warm and accepting family of gay men and a very large circle of friends.
       Vince was the associate pastor at the parish of Rick's parents in Sarasota, and I met him when I went there with the Foley-Mashburn family to bury Rick's grandfather. I was there as a friend, not as a priest, but the two roles were, ultimately, inseparable. When Mrs. Mashburn, Rick's grandmother, found out I was a priest, she insisted I help with the funeral.
       "I would be more than happy to concelebrate with the local priest, if he's willing," I said to her when she asked me to say the Mass of Resurrection for her husband. "But, really, the local parish is supposed to be responsible for that, and they might be offended."
       "That would be marvelous, Father," she said. "Please do it for Rick."
       When she said that, I knew there was no way I could refuse.
       It turned out Vince and I were exactly the same age and had been ordained the same year. I liked him immediately, and I think he liked me immediately, too. After the time in Sarasota, he and I stayed in touch. At first just through email, and then we took to calling each other. He was gay, just as I was, and he was struggling with his vow of celibacy, just as I was, too. We became kind of an informal support group for each other.
       "Jerry, I could really go for you, man," he said on the phone one night shortly after Labor Day.
       "I know, and don't think it's not mutual," I said. "I told you about my little scrape with the law in Boston, and I told you about coming on to Rick Mashburn. Those two episodes made me really think, man. I want to be a priest with all my being, and that includes celibacy, at least until they change the rules."
       "I know. Me, too," he said. "But it's so difficult."
       "I'm guessing you masturbate," I said. "I do."
       "Shit, that's my middle name. The Internet has been a God-send for that," he said.
       I laughed at his choice of words.
       "That's kind of ironic, isn't it?" he said, laughing, too.
       "It is ironic, but I know exactly what you mean," I said. "The only Internet connection in this rectory was in the office, so I'm paying for a connection in my room."
       "Me, too," he said.
       "By the way, Justin Davis talked to me the other day about going through RCIA. He's starting this week," I said.
       "That's the big blond one, right?" Vince asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Be still my heart," Vince said.
       "I know. That kid and Kyle Goodson both exude sexuality to me," I said. "They're both really good boys, though. It's going to be all I can do to keep my hand out of my pocket when I'm counseling him."
       "I hear you, brother," Vince said. "I need to run. Keep the faith."
       "And spread it," I said.
       "You, too," he said, and we broke the connection.
       * * *
       When Kyle Goodson had first talked to me about being received into the Church, I had made it a point to bring up the topic of homosexuality with him in a private discussion. I wanted to make sure he didn't have any moral hang-ups about the way God had made him, and he didn't seem to. Naturally, when Justin and I met the first time, I took the same approach.
       "Justin, I want to talk about homosexuality," I said.
       "Why?" he responded. I was a bit taken aback.
       "You're gay, aren't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah. So are you. I don't have a problem with you, Padre," he said.
       What he said wasn't the least bit funny objectively, but the way he said it was hilarious to me.
       "Justin, I know you don't have a problem with me, and I don't have a problem with you, either. Do you have a problem with homosexuality?"
       "I've got it, but I don't consider it a problem," he said. "I mean, it ain't contagious."
       I didn't know if I was going to be able to get through this counseling session or not without dissolving into a puddle of laughter.
       When I finally pulled myself together, I took a deep breath.
       "Bubba, are you trying to be funny?" I asked.
       "No, sir," he said, and I believed him. I was the one with the problem, not him.
       "Okay, I want to be serious for just a little while," I said.
       "Yes, sir," he said.
       I went through my usual spiel about what the Church teaches about homosexuality and homosexual acts, and he listened politely. I told him about the passages in scripture that many people use to condemn homosexuality as an abomination.
       "What does that mean?" he asked.
       "What does what mean?" I asked in return.
       "That big word you just said," he replied.
       "Abomination?" I asked.
       "Yeah. What is that?"
       "It means 'something awful, terrible, seriously wrong,'" I said.
       "Oh, okay. Even if two guys are in love?" he asked.
       "That's what they believe. Yes," I said.
       "That's bullshit," he said.
       "Justin, my friend, I think you just proved you understand what I'm talking about pretty well," I said.
       I told him about selecting a sponsor.
       "Could Doc do it again?" he asked.
       "Doc?" I asked, not really keying in on George Murphy immediately.
       "Tim's daddy. George Murphy," he said.
       "Oh. Sorry. I forgot that you guys call him Doc. He'd be great, but it's kind of time-consuming. Let's get a back-up if he's not willing to do it again," I said.
       "Kevin?"
       "Kevin would be wonderful," I said. "Or Rick."
       "Not Rick. I love that man to death, and I look up to him in every way, but he doesn't know much more about the Catholic Church than I do," he said.
       "Let's go with George first and Kevin as a back-up," I said.
       "Can I have two?" he asked.
       There was absolutely no reason in the world why he couldn't have two, but, if the RCIA had any flaws, it was in the amount of time it demanded of the sponsor. I made a quick decision with that fact in mind.
       "No," I said.
       "Okay," he said.
       Justin ended up not asking George Murphy, and Kevin Foley was his sponsor.
       * * *
       There were eight people in the RCIA program that year. Most of them were established adults. One pair was a married couple, and one young man in his early twenties was engaged to a Catholic girl. One was a very handsome single man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. The other three were people who were already married to Catholics.
       Justin soon became the darling of that group. The women loved him immediately, and I think the men appreciated his respectful demeanor and his incredible sense of countrified humor. Hal, the thirty-something single man, couldn't take his eyes off him, and he listened to what Justin had to say with the same reverence and awe as the teachers had listened to the boy Jesus in the Temple.
       After the second or third class, Kevin invited me to join him and Jus for dinner.
       "I think you've got an admirer in the class," Kevin said.
       "What are you talking about?" Jus asked.
       "Hal. Don't you have any gaydar at all, Jus? Am I right, Jerry?" Kevin asked.
       "It looks that way to me," I said.
       "So I don't get what you mean," Justin said. "Hal's a nice guy. He and I talked about maybe going hunting this fall."
       "He wants to sleep in your tent, Bubba," Kevin said. "He might want to share a sleeping bag with you."
       "Well, he's shit out of luck," Jus said. "I've had more than my share of those old farts. I got all the boy I ever want, and y'all know it, too."
       "So, do you think you and Brian are going to commit to one another for life?" I asked.
       "Yeah. We already have, Jerry. We haven't had a ceremony yet, but there's never going to be anybody else for either one of us," he said.
       He and Brian were awfully young, but I knew a hundred straight couples who had been together since high school. In fact, my own parents had been high school sweethearts, and I knew it was possible.
       "Well, be nice to Hal, Jus. I think he's very lonely, and I think he has a crush on you," I said.
       "I'll be nice to him, but he's not getting anywhere with me," Jus said.
       "Justin, I've been meaning to ask you this. Why do you want to become a Catholic?" Kevin said. "Is it because Kyle did?"
       "That's a fair question, Kevin. Brian asked me the same thing. And I'll tell you what the reason is, Bubba. Two reasons, in fact," he said.
       "What are they?" I asked.
       "One reason is Kevin Foley, and the other reason is Rick Mashburn," he said.
       He had tears in his eyes, and I could tell it was a very emotional moment for him. I looked at Kevin, and his eyes were weepy, too.
       "I'm not sure those are very good reasons," Kevin said. "We're really not that religious, Bubba."
       "You might not be all that religious, Kev, but I don't know two better people on this fucking earth than you and Rick. I don't know what part being Catholic played in that, but that couldn't have hurt," he said. "I know you don't think I pay attention when Jerry's saying the homily at Mass, but I really do. I know that when he talks about the Christian community and what it's supposed to be, he's really talking about our family. I pretend to be dumb, and I joke around a lot, but I was there from the beginning of that family, almost. I know what happens in that house to boys who need love."
       "Justin, I know what goes on in that house, too, son, and you're absolutely right," I said. "Love goes on in that house, Bubba, and I don't mean physical, sexual love. Although I suspect there's some of that, too."
       Justin and Kevin both laughed at that line.
       "What I see is transforming love. Love that accepts all who present themselves. Love that is unconditional and unlimited. I've been the recipient of that love, and it's made all the difference in my life. Justin, I can't think of a better reason for wanting to be a Christian, a Catholic Christian, than you've just said," I said.
       "This discussion made me feel a hell of a lot better than that hamburger did. I'm needing me a big bowl of ice cream for dessert right about now, though," he said.
       Kevin burst out laughing, and Justin laughed hard, too. I was in the dark.
       "I'm sorry, Jerry, but it's sort of a family joke. Whenever we have an emotional family discussion, or when we're celebrating a family triumph of some kind, we always have banana splits with tons of trimmings. That's what he was talking about," Kevin said.
       "What a great tradition," I said.
       "Yeah, and sometimes one of us gets the banana standing up straight between two big gobs of ice cream covered with coconut hair," Justin said. "That means the one who gets that is the MAN that night."
       "That's funny," I said. "And pretty apropos, given the environment."
       "Y'all, I really do want some ice cream," Justin said.
       All three of us had the biggest confection the Pelican's Post had on their menu.

(Jeff's Perspective)
       My blog, or Weblog, was a lot of fun. I wrote about my daily life as one of four gay men living together as two monogamous couples. I didn't post something every single day, but I averaged five times a week. My regular readership had increased to about a thousand people a day, and I regularly got comments from a number of faithful readers.
       Some of the people who were the most faithful readers and some of my commenters were my brothers, both real, honorary, and in-law. Most of the time they had very funny things to say, especially the Emerald Beach crowd, and I looked forward to their comments as much as I did to writing my stuff. They often corrected details that I had gotten wrong.
       One time Kyle wrote something that was hilarious to us in Emerald Beach because it was an inside family joke, but Josh, my real brother, thought Kyle was criticizing me. Josh felt as though he had to defend me, and he wrote back an angry comment to Kyle.
       "He doesn't really know, does he?" Kyle said about Josh's reply.
       "No, he doesn't. But I'll set him straight, Bubba. Don't worry about that. I thought what you wrote was a scream. He has no idea about our relationship, Kyle. And there's no way he could know," I said.
       "If he keeps doubting how I feel about you, I'm going to need to drive to Jacksonville and kick his ass," Kyle said.
       We were both laughing.
       "Him and his interior-decorating boyfriend," Kyle said.
       Kyle and I were laughing so hard we had to prop each other up physically.
       Later that night I talked to Josh on the phone and straightened it all out with him.
       "Jesus, I feel like a total shit," Josh said. "I guess I forgot that Kyle is Clay's brother. I mean, I knew one of them was, but keeping all those people straight in my mind isn't easy. You might want to consider doing a 'cast' list."
       "That's probably a good idea," I said.
       "I need to apologize to him," Josh said. "What's his email address?"
       I gave it to him, and he must have written a hell of a letter of apology. The next time I saw Kyle, which was just a day or two later, he told me everything was fine with Josh.
       "He got it all wrong, but I'm proud of him for what he did, Jeff. He jumped to your defense, just like a big brother is supposed to," Kyle said.
       "I know. I thought about that aspect of it, too," I said.
       "Damn right," Kyle said. "That boy's stock went way up in my mind when he did that, even though I was going to have to whip his ass over it."
       "Kyle, how many asses have you actually whipped?" I asked.
       He laughed.
       "Not enough," he said.
       "Do you, like, notch the headboard of your bed every time you whip somebody's ass?" I asked.
       "No, but that's a damn good idea," he said. "I need to sharpen my pocketknife," he said.
       "Don't mess up the furniture," I said.
       "I'd never do that, Jeff. Give me a break, man. I'm about ninety-five percent bullshit. I thought you knew that by now," he said. "And so is Justin. I'm an actor, you know? And so is he, even though he's never been in a play."
       "I know, Kyle. It's fun, though, isn't it?"
       "Yeah," he said.
       "Kyle, tell me if I'm wrong about this, okay? Clay didn't have an accent at all. He spoke English the same way I do, and Rick and Brian and Tim do. I think your accent is part of your act, too," I said. "Am I right?"
       I could have counted on one hand the number of times I had seen Kyle blush, but he blushed deeply just then. He was a very cute guy, and the fact that he looked just like the man I had been in love with didn't detract from his appeal.
       "Jeff, when Clay was here in Emerald Beach, he talked the same way I do. I know that when he went to Gainesville and met you, he talked the way you do. And I can talk that way, too, when I want to. As I am right now. But this is a small town, you know? And Clay and I are natives here, from a prominent family, too. I use the Emerald Beach accent to let people here know I'm one of them. I'm not a tourist. I'm not an outsider. I belong here. This is where my roots are. My daddy doesn't talk the same in, say, New York City as he does here. My mother talks the same way all the time because she thinks the Charleston accent is the only way English is supposed to be spoken. They all do in Charleston. I guess because it's such an old city, and all. But, yes, you're right. My accent is part of my persona when I'm here."
       "Kyle, that's amazing. That is an incredible analysis, and I think you're right," I said.
       "Well, the analysis isn't original. I actually learned it in school my junior year. We read the book The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and my teacher did a unit on American dialects, or accents, in connection with that book. Mark Twain makes a big deal about accents in that book. That's where I learned that stuff. But I was switching back and forth in the way I talk long before I learned that. And so was Clay," he said.
       "Kyle, you used the word 'persona' a few minutes ago. Do you know what that word means?" I asked.
       "Yes. It means your mask, the image of yourself you present to others," he said. "I ain't as dumb as I wanna be."
       I laughed with delight.
       "You're something," I said.
       "I know. I'm a bullshit artist," he said.
       "You're an artist, all right, but it's not bullshit. At least not all of it," I said.
       * * *
       In addition to the comments I got on my blog, I also got email from readers. I had no idea of the profile of my "average" reader, and I really didn't care all that much what the profile might look like. I was mainly writing for me and for my extended family, so the "average" reader didn't matter. But I got four or five comments every day, and many of them were from younger readers. Here's an example.

       Hi, Jeff
               Whats up? I'm foreteen and I'm gay. when I read about you're brothers i wish I could be their in that house with them in the wrost way. I get picked on at school, and I need some big brothers to help me out. Nobody but you knows i'm gay. I don't want to be gay, but I can't help it. I hve two little brothers 12 and 10 and the other day the 12 called me a fagot. Please pray for me Jeff and ask your brothers to pray for me to. i'm not going to hurt myself or anything so don't worry about that, but i'm miserbly. thanks for riting you sorty.

                               your friend,
                               Billy

       When I got that, I printed it immediately. I remembered being fourteen and knowing I was gay. I had an older brother, of course, but he had problems of his own to contend with. I wasn't so much picked on as I was ignored by the "popular" crowd. God, my heart ached for Billy.
       "Babe, look at this," I said, presenting the email to Tyler.
       He read it quickly. Then he just looked at me with eyes that enveloped Billy and me in a huge hug.
       "I know," I said. "I know."
       He put his arms around me, and I knew I was safe and secure with the man I loved.
       "What do you write back to something like this?" he asked.
       "I don't know," I said.
       It was a Friday night, and Chuck and Tony were in the living room watching TV. Ty and I were in the "study," also known as the computer room/guest room. We went out there with them.
       "There are ninety-five channels on this fucking cable, and there is almost never anything on worth watching," Chuck said.
       "We've got something here worth reading," Ty said.
       He handed the paper to Chuck, and he and Tony read it together.
       "Oh, my God!" Chuck said. "I'm not believing this."
       "I think it's true," Ty said.
       "Oh, I know it's true," Tony said. "I think he meant he really didn't want to believe it."
       "Exactly," Chuck said. "What can we do?"
       "I don't know," I said. "I'm going to write back to him and tell him we're on his side. I'm going to tell him he's not alone, but that's not much consolation."
       "Can't you just picture him? A sweet little kid, struggling to have friends, to be accepted, to avoid the bullies," Tony said. "Guys, I'm about to lose it right now over this kid."
       He had big tears forming in his eyes. I think that reaction made me love Tony more than I ever had before.
       "When I was his age, I wanted a big brother so bad I could scream," Tony said. "He's not an only child like I was, but it sounds like his little brothers aren't giving him any support at all."
       "What if we all write back to him?" I proposed.
       "Yeah, and we'll get the kids at Kevin and Rick's house to write, too. Do you think they'd do it?" Chuck asked.
       "I don't think there's any question about that, and I think it's a great idea," I said.
       "Any clue about where he lives from his email address?" Chuck asked.
       "No. It's a Yahoo account. I can't even get an IP address from that. If I could, I could pinpoint it," Tony said. "Actually, there is a way to do it, but it's very difficult, and there are legal issues related to privacy involved."
       Suddenly, we heard the front door open.
       "Knock, knock," a voice said.
       The Big Four from North Lagoon Drive came in bearing pizzas. Kyle was carrying four of them, and he had a definite look of urgency on his face. He plopped them on the counter, and he turned to look at us. He had a broad smile.
       "Goddamn, those things are hot," he said. "I about burned my hands off."
       "You wimp," Tyler said, grabbing him in a headlock hug.
       "Get off me, you big brute," Kyle said. Then he and Tyler hugged. We all hugged, in fact.
       "There are four big 'meat lovers' right there," Kyle said. "We knew y'all were all meat lovers, just like us."
       We all laughed at his pun.
       "Dive in, boys," Kyle said. "Justin, where's the beer?"
       "Shit, I'd forget my damn nuts, if they weren't attached," Justin said, and he went back out to retrieve the beer. He brought in two twelve-packs.
       "Kyle, how do you guys buy beer?" Chuck asked.
       "The same way you do. We give the man money," Kyle said.
       "That's not what I mean, and you know it," Chuck said.
       "You don't ask, and we don't tell," Kyle said.
       "You sound like the military," Tyler and Tony said in unison.
       "I know, and we're keeping a military top secret right here in this family," Kyle said.
       We all laughed.
       The pizza was delicious, of course, the beer was ice cold, and the company was the best.
       After we had eaten and sucked down a couple of brews apiece, we got quiet.
       "I want you guys to read something," I said.
       I handed Billy's email to Brian. He read it and handed it to Tim. They both starting crying quietly, trying to conceal their emotions.
       Justin read it next.
       "Read this, Kyle. This is fucking bullshit. We got to save this kid," Justin said.
       Kyle read it.
       "Damn! Don't you just want to grab this kid and hug him?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but how do you do that?" Justin asked.
       "Let's call him," Kyle said.
       "We don't know his last name or where he is," I said.
       "Brian knows how to figure out where he is," Kyle said. "He located Josh, didn't he?"
       "I can't do this one, though, Kyle. Maybe it's possible to get his IP address, but I don't know how to do it," Brian said.
       "It can be done, but it's very complicated," Tony said. "And even if we got the IP address, we still couldn't call him. We don't know his phone number or even his last name."
       "So what do we do? Jerk off in his honor?" Justin asked.
       We all laughed.
       "You write to his ass, that's what you do. That's all we got to go on. This boy is screaming out for support, and we've got to give it to him," Kyle said. "All we can do is write to him, but I think if we all do it, it'll have an impact, maybe."
       "That's what we thought, too," I said.
       "Forward that message to the whole family, Jeff," Kyle said. "We'll make little Billy know he's got brothers in Florida."
       * * *
       In a couple of days, I got another email from Billy.

       hi, jeff
               whats up? I got a ton of emails from all of your brohers saying I'm there brother, to. They said alot more than that, and they made me sore ski high, man. i'm felling so good right now about myself I can't stand it. Thank you so mch. i love you jeff and i love all those boys there with you. they said they wold keep writing to me, and i think they will. Thank you so much. i love you.
                                                   Billy

       I showed that email to Tyler, and to Chuck and Tony.
       "Emerald Beach is slowly seeping across the country," Chuck said. "If he knew what it was like in that house, he would haul ass to get there."
       "I know," I said.
       A few days later, I got another email that disturbed me.

       Dear Jeff,
               I've been reading your blog for several months. I mean, I found it about a month ago, and I read all the archives. And I've been keeping up day by day since then. I'm fifteen years old, I live in Virginia, and I'm gay. My mom and dad found out I was gay about two months ago when a boy I thought I could trust told his parents what I had told him about my feelings for him. Since then, my life has been hell. I made a botched attempt at suicide, but obviously I survived. I learned from that mistake, though, and I now know how to do it for real. I don't want to, though. I want to come to Emerald Beach and live with you and Kevin and Rick and the rest. I want to live. Please say it's okay for me to come there. Please write back to me. PLEASE!
               I love you.
                                       Your Brother,
                                       Sean Kelly

       When I read that, my insides turned to water. My first impulse was to delete the whole blog from the Internet. I wasn't a counselor, and I didn't need to be in this kind of business. I wasn't ready for this kind of stuff, and I didn't think I'd ever be ready for it.
       I sat at the computer for a long time, staring at the letter. Chuck came into the room.
       "What's wrong, Jeff?" he asked.
       "Read what's on the screen," I said.
       He read it.
       "Wow! That's pretty heavy stuff," he said.
       "I know. What am I supposed to do, Chuck?"
       "I don't know, but print a bunch of copies of it so we can talk about it," Chuck said.
       I printed ten copies of the letter. I gave one to Tyler to read when he came home.
       "Wow! This is much more serious than Billy's letter, isn't it? I mean, this kid is smart. There aren't any mistakes or typos or anything. He probably really does know how to do it," Ty said.
       "I know. Babe, I've created a monster with that fucking blog. I hate it. I want to delete the whole fucking thing," I said.
       "Jeff. No. You've created an angel, not a monster. Don't you see? That blog has given him hope. It's given him a place to turn to. He wouldn't have had that without your blog. Now we have to figure out what to do about it," Ty said.
       He was right. I was overwrought, and he helped me see more clearly. I put my head on his shoulder, and I hugged him to me.
       "We're going to wait for Tony to get home, and then we're going to go to Kevin and Rick's house to talk about this. This thing belongs to the whole family, not just to you," he said.
       "I can't tell you how much I love you," I said.
       "I think you just did, Jeff. And I love you that much, too," he said.
       We stopped and got subs on the way to Kevin and Rick's house. We got enough for them, too, and those boys tore into them. I knew they had plenty of food in that house at all times, and I also knew those boys had already had a snack that night. But you can't put a Subway sandwich in front of a boy and him not want to eat it. The exception was Murray. He had it almost to his mouth, and Kyle took it away from him.
       "It's just turkey, Kyle," Murray whined.
       "I know, but it's turkey and bread and mayonnaise and shit you can't have, if you expect to lose weight. Let me get you some tomato juice, real spicy. It'll satisfy you," Kyle said.
       "You really care about me, don't you?" Murray said.
       "Fuck, yeah, I care about you, you little fat-ass queer," Kyle said.
       Murray and Kyle grinned at each other the way brothers do when one is taking care of the other. Kyle came back into the room in a few minutes with a huge glass of tomato juice with two stalks of celery, three stalks of pickled asparagus, and two pickled green beans. I figured he had dumped enough Tabasco sauce into that drink to see Murray through the next two bowel movements.
       "What's up, guys?" Kevin said when we had finished eating.
       "Kevin, it's something pretty serious," I said.
       I told him about the letter, and I passed out copies for the others to read. Everybody was dead quiet, and I knew the letter was having an effect on them.
       "Is he going to come live with us?" Denny asked.
       "I don't see that happening," Kevin said. "Not that we wouldn't want him, but he's in another state. His parents would have to voluntarily relinquish custody of him to us. What do you think, Babe?"
       "I think you're right, Babe. Like you, I want to help him, but I don't think we can take in kids from all over the place, especially without going through Tyrone Williams and the Children and Family Services Department," Rick said. "Maybe we could tell him to call us collect."
       "That's a start," Kevin said.
       "We took in Alex when he ran away and just showed up here," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but what's the difference between Alex and Sean?" Kevin asked.
       "I don't know. Alex is cut and Sean's uncut?" Kyle asked.
       We all laughed.
       "Kyle, that was funny, but let's keep this serious, okay, Bubba?" Rick said.
       "I'm sorry," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, the difference is the age. Alex was legally an adult, and this boy isn't," Kevin said. "If he were eighteen, we'd send him bus fare, but he's only fifteen. We can't encourage him to run away to come here. We'd get in so much trouble if we did that we'd probably never see any of you again."
       "This age shit is a pain in the ass," Kyle said.
       "Well, maybe so, but it's the law, whether we like it or not," Kevin said. "Here's what I suggest we do. Jeff, write back to him and ask him to call us. Make sure you print a copy of every email contact you have with him, and keep them on file. If anything comes up about our trying to lure the boy away from home, we need to have that as back-up."
       "Okay. I had already thought I would do that," I said. "Whose number do I give him? Mine?"
       "Yes. Give him your cell number, and tell him that's what it is. Tell him you showed his letter to all of us and that Rick and I want to talk to him. He obviously knows who we are, but he might be reluctant to call one of us without talking to you first. Don't say anything about it being unlikely that he'll get to come live here. That seems to be a ray of hope in his life right now, and we damn sure don't want to dim that ray," Kevin said.
       "Let me write the letter here, and I want you all to read it before I send it," I said.
       "That's a good idea," Rick said.
       I went into the study to write a response.

       Dear Sean,
               I am really sorry to hear about what happened to you because of your friend. That shouldn't happen to anybody. When I got your letter, I knew I had to share it with Kevin, Rick, and the other guys here. I printed it out and took it to Kevin and Rick's house. We talked about it, and we agreed we all want to help you out somehow. I would like to talk to you on the phone. Please call my cell phone number collect so you and I can talk. I'm going to keep my phone turned on and with me at all times. The number is 555-850-1621. Call me as soon as you can.
                                   Love,
                                   Jeff Martin

       I called the guys into the study to read the letter.
       "I think it's good," Kevin said.
       "So do I," Rick agreed. "Have you printed it?"
       "Not yet," I said. I clicked on the "print" button, and the printer started up. After it was printed, I hit the "send" button.
       "I guess there's nothing to do now but wait," Rick said.
       "Kevin, when he calls me, I'll put us on a three-way call after I make sure he's comfortable with that, okay?" I said.
       "That's a good idea. I hadn't thought of that," Kevin said.
       "This boy knows his technology," Tyler said, grinning at me.
       "I've got school work to do tonight," I said, "so I need to get on back home."
       "Okay, guys. Let's keep our fingers crossed we can work something out," Kevin said.
       I stayed up much later than usual that night, waiting for Sean to call. I checked my email every half hour or so, too, just in case he decided to respond that way. Nothing. My precious angel stayed in the room with me, studying on the guest bed while I used the desk. Eventually, he pulled down the covers on the bed, took off his shoes and shorts, and got in. He went to sleep in a few minutes. Instead of waking him up to go to our own bed, I got undressed and crawled in with him.
       * * *
       Sean didn't call that night, and there wasn't any email from him the next morning. I kept my phone with me hooked to my belt all day long. I went to class at FSU, and then I went to work, as usual. That night I haunted my email in-box, but nothing from Sean. My phone didn't ring, either.
       The second day was a repeat of the first.
       "I sure wish he'd call," I said to the Townhouse Boys.
       "Maybe no news is good news," Tony said.
       "Maybe. I sure hope so," I said.
       We went through the third day, and, once again, there was no contact from Sean, either on the phone or through email. I wrote to him again to say that I was waiting to hear from him. If he had gotten scared, he needed to know that I was serious in what I had said.
       In the evening of the third day, my phone rang as we were watching TV. I snatched it from my belt so fast that I dropped it. I checked the number, and it was Kyle.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hey. Did he call yet?"
       "Not yet. And if he's trying to call right this minute, he's going to be shit out of luck, isn't he?" I said.
       "Don't you have Call Waiting?" he asked.
       "Yeah. I forgot about that," I said.
       "Use the ole noggin, Bubba. That's what you've got it for. It's not just for Tyler to stick his dick in, you know?"
       I started laughing.
       "You are such a little shithead," I said.
       "Yeah, but I'm a cute little shithead, ain't I?" he said.
       "Yes, Kyle, you are. And such a modest little shithead," I said, and that made him laugh, too.
       "Well, I don't want to tie the line up any more. You might forget again that you have Call Waiting and not answer it if it rings," he said.
       "Go to bed, Kyle," I said. "Thanks for calling, and I love you, Bubba."
       "I love you, too. 'Bye."
       "I take it Kyle was calling to see if Sean had called," Chuck said.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "What was so funny?" Ty asked.
       "He told me to use my noggin. That's what I have it for, not just for you to stick your dick in," I said.
       My housemates laughed.
       "He is a little shithead," Ty said.
       "Yeah, but a cute one, he reminded me," I said. They laughed some more.
       * * *
       By the fourth day, I had given up on Sean calling. I hoped his initial email was something he had written during a panic attack and that things had improved.
       That afternoon I was working the front desk with Stephen. Justin and I basically shared half of a job now, instead of sharing a whole job as we had before. I was in the office working the on-line registrations, and Stephen was out front.
       "Jeff, there's somebody out here to see you," Stephen said.
       "Who is it? Is it one of my brothers?" I asked.
       "No. I don't know who it is," Stephen said.
       I went out front, and there was a kid standing at the desk. He was stunningly good looking, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a very nice haircut. His clothes were rumbled, but they were nice. He was definitely preppy.
       "What can I do for you?" I asked.
       "Jeff?"
       "Yes," I said.
       "I'm Sean Kelly," he said.

Chapter 09

(Ken's Perspective)
       I ended up taking a full week off because of my black eye. With Kevin and Rick's encouragement, I went to the local walk-in clinic to have the doctor look at it. He checked to see if there were any broken bones, and there weren't any. The swelling had gone down completely, and he told me to use hot compresses to get the blood flowing in that area of my face more than it would naturally. He said there was nothing he could prescribe to make it go away faster and that bruises just had to fade naturally. He didn't ask me how I got the black eye, and I was very glad of that.
       During the time I was off and staying at Kevin and Rick's house, I did a whole lot of thinking. I had known I was gay since I was thirteen, and I knew that wasn't going to change. Being around those guys on North Lagoon Drive sort of inspired me to take my destiny into my own hands. I knew that in them I had friends I could count on, no matter what happened, and I grew more and more determined to come out. The first step, and probably the most difficult one, would have to be my parents.
       My parents really weren't overt homophobes because in their world homosexuality didn't exist. They owned a dry cleaning business, and they both worked hard in it. It did well, although it tended to be a bit seasonal. In the summer, men wore fewer dress shirts and more casual slacks that could be washed at home than they did in the fall, winter, and spring. Business wasn't really bad in the summer; it just wasn't as good as it was the rest of the year.
       Dad belonged to the Chamber of Commerce and the Lions Club, and Mom was active in the Ladies' Missionary Circle at the church. She had been a Brownie leader and a Girl Scout leader when my younger sister was involved in those activities, and more than once our yard had been proclaimed "Yard of the Month" by our neighborhood association. We were a rock-solid family, and we were definitely not the kind who produced a gay son.
       "Your face is looking a lot better, Ken," Rick said on Thursday night.
       "Are you telling me it's time for me to get my ass back to work?" I joked.
       He laughed.
       "No, I think one more day, plus the weekend, and it'll be as good as new," he said.
       It was just Kevin, Rick, and I in the den. The kids were home, I think--most of them, at least--but they must have been in their rooms studying for Friday tests.
       "This has been an incredible week for me," I said. "I can't thank you guys enough."
       "It's been great having you here, but you're not getting ready to move back home, are you?" Kevin asked. "We thought you were going to stay here until you found a place of your own."
       "That's my plan, if that's still okay," I said.
       "Of course it is," he said.
       "What I meant when I said this week has been incredible is I've grown so much in self-acceptance since I've been here. I've seen the way you two live your lives, and I've seen how happy and how much in love the two of you are. I've also seen the boys, and those guys are incredible. You have so much to be proud of," I said.
       They looked at each other and smiled.
       "Thanks, Ken. We are proud," Rick said.
       "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I've decided it's time for me to come out," I said.
       They didn't really respond, and I really didn't expect them to.
       "That's a big step. Are you sure you're ready for that?" Kevin asked.
       "Yeah, I'm ready." I said. "As long as I know y'all are behind me."
       "Well, we're behind you," Rick said.
       "Thanks. I thought I knew that, but I wanted to hear it," I said.
       * * *
       My parents lived quite a distance from North Lagoon Drive. In fact, it was clear across town. Driving there on Saturday morning took me a good forty-five minutes, and several times I was within a hair's breadth of turning back. I didn't, though.
       My dad was in the front yard on his riding lawnmower when I drove up. I honked the horn to catch his attention, and he grinned and waved at me when he realized who it was. He cut off the mower and came over to the car. He shook hands with me when I got out, and then he hugged me.
       "Hi, stranger. It's good to see you, son," he said.
       "It's good to see you, too, Dad," I said.
       "Are you back for good?"
       "No, sir. I came to get my stuff," I said. "I won't be coming back, Dad."
       He didn't respond except to smile, but I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking I had spent the previous week with my wife and that she and I had been reconciled. I didn't say anything.
       When we went inside, my mom was watching the Home and Garden Network on TV. They kept that on constantly on Saturdays. She jumped up when she realized it was me, and she grabbed me in a big hug. She kissed my cheek hard, like I had been gone years.
       "Did you have breakfast?" she asked.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Can we turn off the TV so we can talk?"
       "Of course," she said, and she hit the "power" button on the remote.
       "I hope you're here with some good news," she said, all pert and cute.
       "Well, I've got news, but I'm not sure you'll necessarily think it's all that good," I said.
       "Dad and I have assumed you've been at your apartment with Carolyn," she said.
       "No, ma'am, I haven't been. I've been staying with some friends on the beach. Some gay friends, Mom," I said.
       "I don't understand," she said.
       "I do," my father said immediately. "Kenny, it's okay."
       I felt a sudden calmness come over me. He said it was okay! He knows what I'm talking about, and it's okay!
       "What's okay? What do you understand that I don't?" she asked.
       "Kenny is telling us he's gay, Sweetie. It's something you and I have talked about a hundred times," he said.
       "Oh," she said.
       "Are you disappointed in me?" I asked.
       "Son, the only time you have ever disappointed me was when you married Carolyn. We knew that wasn't going to work. We couldn't tell you that, of course, but we knew you weren't in love with her. You're in love with Wayne, aren't you?"
       When he said that, my stomach hit the floor.
       "Was I that obvious?" I asked.
       "Obvious? That's a pretty relative concept. No. People seeing you guys together would never have known. But parents know their children, son. And brothers know their brothers," Dad said.
       "Does he know, too?" I asked.
       "Your brother has suspected that you and Wayne are gay--and in love with each other--for a long, long time. Has he never said anything to you about it?" Dad asked.
       "No, sir. He hasn't," I said.
       "That's because he loves and respects you. Both you and Wayne," he said.
       "Dad, Wayne's not gay," I said.
       "Did he tell you that?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir, in no uncertain terms," I said.
       "All of us might be wrong, but you thought he was gay, didn't you?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "Wayne's still got some growing up to do," he said. "Your mother and I are proud of you, Ken. Now you can get on with your life as who you really are. By the way, who are these gay friends you've been staying with?"
       "Kevin Foley and Rick Mashburn. They're the two Executive Vice Presidents of Goodson Enterprises, and they're wonderful. They run a foster home for gay boys, and other gay boys live there, too. One of the other boys living there is Kyle Goodson, Mister Goodson's son," I said.
       "Gene Goodson has a gay son? I guess we're in pretty good company," he said to my mom.
       "Dad, Mister Goodson had two gay sons. Clay, the older one, died in some kind of freak medical accident in Gainesville," I said.
       "And Gene Goodson is okay with his son being gay?" Dad asked.
       "I haven't met Mister Goodson, but evidently he is. Kyle has had the same boyfriend for two-and-a-half years, and those boys are so much in love," I said.
       "How old is Kyle?"
       "He's eighteen. He was president of the Student Government Association at Beachside High School last year, and he was totally out when he ran for office," I said.
       "Are these boys, er, . . . "
       "Effeminate? Not a bit. Dad, there's one in the house who is, but he's the exception. That effeminacy thing is a stereotype. Most of the guys in that house are every bit as masculine as I am, and Kyle and another guy, named Justin, are probably more masculine than me," I said.
       "You don't see that on TV, do you?" he said.
       "Dad, these are just ordinary guys. Some of them hate sports, and some of them love sports. I've watched more baseball this past week than I have in my whole life before now. One day I hope you can meet them because they'll change everything you ever thought about gay men," I said. "They did me, and I'm one of them."
       My parents both chuckled.
       "So, what happens next?" Mom asked.
       "Mom, I want to get my clothes and other stuff. I'm going to go back out to Kevin and Rick's, and, as soon as I can, I'm going to get my own place," I said. "I'm not living in the closet anymore. In time, people will forget that Carolyn and I were ever married. She'll find some straight guy who will love her and care for her. I'm not worried about that."
       "Did you ever love her, son?" Dad asked.
       "Dad, I love Carolyn to this very minute. I hope we can be friends for the rest of our lives. But that's all we ever were. Friends," I said.
       "You don't have to answer this, but it's something Mom and I are both curious about. Was there ever any sex between you two?"
       "Yes there was," I said.
       "Is that what made you know you were gay?" he asked.
       "No, Dad. I've known since I was thirteen. That's what made me know I couldn't be married," I said.
       * * *
       Mom and Dad both went to Popeye's to get fried chicken and other stuff for us to eat for lunch. I was sure they wanted some time together. I went back to my room and got busy packing. I felt so light, so free, so incredibly good that I can't even explain it. I basically just packed up my clothes, my CD's, a few DVD's, and small stuff. I'd wait until I had a place before I came back for the rest.
       Lunch was good. We didn't talk about me. We talked about relatives, especially my brother and sister, items in the local news, my job, their business. Just stuff you talk about.
       I wasn't ready to leave until around four. Dad helped me carry my stuff out to my car. We had a time fitting it all in, but eventually we did. Mom came out to tell me goodbye.
       "Ken, I gave birth to you many years ago, but today I feel like I've given birth to the real you. Thank you for trusting us, son. We love you," she said.
       She was crying a bit as she kissed me on the cheek.
       "You'll be over some, won't you?" Dad asked, as he pumped my hand.
       "Of course I will," I said. "I'm not turning into Queer as Folk. I'm the same son you've always had, only now you know."
       "Now we know for sure," Dad said. "Now we all know."
       "Yeah, I guess that's right," I said. "'Bye. I love you both more than I can say."
       "We love you, too, Kenny," Mom said
       "He wants to be called 'Ken,' not 'Kenny,'" Dad said.
       "I always want to be called 'Kenny' by you," I said. "I love you."
       * * *
       My life had made a sea change that day, but back on North Lagoon Drive things were as they always were. Kevin and Rick went to Mass that night, and we all went with them. We went out to eat at the same bar and grill they always went to. It was my first time there, and the atmosphere there was totally friendly and open. We had two waiters because we were such a large party, but they were ready for us. If those waiter boys weren't gay, then I didn't have any gaydar at all.
       Kyle told us about SCUBA diving and getting a mess of lobsters for us.
       "I took my first underwater pictures today," Kyle said.
       "Cool. Did you get some good ones?" Rick asked.
       "I think I got some very good ones of Philip," he said. "I need to go to the Caribbean to get good ones of fish," he said.
       "I can go to the Caribbean," Tim said.
       We all chuckled.
       "We're all going there eventually, that's for sure. The problem is finding the time. I said it before, and I'll say it again. School takes up too much fucking time," Kyle said. "It's way too confining."
       "I've learned more on the trips we've gone on than in school," Justin said.
       "See, that's what I mean," Kyle said.
       "You guys have been on some fabulous trips, and I have absolutely no doubt that you have learned a lot from your travels. The thing is, school gives you a much more complete picture of it all. I mean, take a history course, for example. Sure, you learn about the American Revolution when you go to Boston, but do you get the whole deal? Why it happened? What happened after the Revolution? Bits and pieces of it happened in different places. You need somebody to tie all that stuff together. That's what a real education is all about, guys," Kevin said.
       "Kevin, what kind of education do I need?" Kyle asked. "Tim and I might not want to come back here, you know? Has anybody ever thought about that? I know I'm going to inherit whatever my parents have to leave, but that's forty years from now. How old are we going to be then? Fifty-eight, sixty?"
       "Kyle, believe it or not, your dad and I have talked about that. He knows that you and Tim have to find your own way in the world. He respects that, Kyle," Kevin said.
       "Hold up. Wait a minute, here," Justin said. "Ain't you and me going to be partners, Kyle? That's what we've been saying, man, ain't it?"
       "That's what I want, Bubba. You know that, but there's no way in hell I'm going to insist we come back here if Tim gets some fabulous opportunity somewhere else. And you know the same damn thing is true for you and Brian," Kyle said.
       "I don't want to talk about this," Justin said.
       "And we don't have to right now. All I'm telling you is, nothing on this fucking earth is as important to me as this boy right here," Kyle said. "And I'm not going to make him give up his life so I can be some big shot in this one-horse town."
       "This isn't a one-horse town, Kyle," Justin said.
       "Maybe not, but it is compared to Los Angeles or New York or lots of other places, too," Kyle said.
       "Tim, what do you say?" Rick asked.
       "I say that Kyle and I will make our decisions together, as a couple, when the time comes. I haven't even graduated from high school yet. My God!" Tim said.
       I decided to change the subject.
       "By the way, guys, I came out to my parents today," I said.
       There was dead silence at the table when I said that.
       "What happened?" Brian asked.
       "They were okay with it. Evidently, they had suspected I was gay for a long time, and my dad and my brother thought Wayne and I were in love with each other," I said.
       "Is Wayne the one that popped you?" Kyle asked.
       "Yes," I said softly.
       "Are you in love with him?" Justin asked.
       "Yes, even after what he did. But if Wayne is gay, he's so deep in denial that there could never be anything between us," I said.
       "It's great about you coming out, but it's too bad about Wayne," Kevin said.
       "They got some cute little waiter boys around here," Justin said. "You might want to ask one of them out tonight. In fact, ask him out before he brings the check. He might put it on the house, if you do."
       We laughed.
       "I want to date, but I'm brand new to all of this," I said. "My wife, Carolyn, and I have been together since right after I graduated from high school. She's really the only girl I ever dated, and I haven't dated any guys."
       "You can take your time," Rick said. "Hell, there are some in your department, aren't there, Tony?"
       "You mean besides him and me?" Tony asked.
       "I mean, I could be wrong, but I don't think I am," Rick said.
       "Oh, I know who you're talking about," Tony said. "Yeah, and he seems like a really nice guy."
       "I can name four, not including these two," Kevin said.
       "Oh, yeah," Rick said.
       God, I wish you would name them, I thought. I couldn't believe I hadn't picked up on something, at least.
       "Tell us who they are," Kyle said.
       "Why do you care?" Kevin asked him.
       "I don't, but he does," Kyle said, indicating me.
       "All Ken has to do is casually mention to one or two people that he came out to his parents this weekend, and I guarantee that everybody in IS will know it by the end of the day. By the end of the week, he'll know exactly who the gay ones are," Rick said.
       "Should I do that?" I asked.
       "If you want to be fully out, that's about the only way to do it," Jeff said. "And guys won't approach you until you're fully out."
       "They won't?" I asked. I felt rather naive. Probably because I was.
       "You've been married. You still are, in fact, legally. Guys who might suspect you're gay won't come on to you because of that," Jeff said. "I know I wouldn't."
       The others agreed that they wouldn't, either, under those circumstances.
       I had a lot to think about after that discussion. I knew they were right, and I really did want to start dating. I wanted to find somebody like them, somebody who shared my values and whom I could love the way they each loved their partners. I felt as though I was starting the adventure of life.

(Jeff's Perspective)
       Hearing that kid say he was Sean Kelly made me weak.
       "How did you get here?" I asked.
       "Greyhound," he said. "It took forever. I left the day before yesterday."
       It was pretty obvious he had been in those clothes that long. His hair was dark, and he had a fine shadow of beard all over his face. The Sean Kelly I had written to had said he was fifteen. That guy looked twenty, or older.
       "How old are you?" I asked.
       "I'm fifteen. Almost sixteen. I know I look older than that, though," he said.
       "Yeah, you look like you could be much older than that. Twenty. Twenty-five, even," I said.
       "Come on. Not that old, huh?"
       He had a captivating smile. He was very masculine acting, and he seemed very self-assured. I didn't know what to do. I still had two more hours of my shift, and I knew Stephen would be supremely pissed off if I asked him to cover the whole desk by himself.
       "Stephen, I'm taking my break," I said.
       "Okay. Who's the new friend? He's a hottie," Stephen said with a lurid grin.
       Stephen was so gay. He wasn't particularly effeminate, but he turned everything into a sexual situation. At first I had been put off by Stephen, as Kyle, Justin, and Tim had been. Now, we liked him a lot and considered him a good friend.
       "Yes, he is," I said. "I plan to ply him with coffee and get him into the backseat of my car."
       "You devil. Does that mean Tyler's now available?"
       "If you touch Tyler, I'll get Kyle and Justin to wear your ass out," I said.
       "Oh, my God, Jeff. I'm going to have an orgasm just from the thought of that," he said.
       I laughed.
       "I'll be back in a few minutes," I said.
       "Take your time. It might require two cups of coffee," he said.
       I took Sean to the employees' lounge.
       "Would you like some coffee?" I asked.
       "I'd love some," he said. "Is it okay to smoke in here?"
       "Yeah. Just don't blow it in my direction," I said.
       He lit up, and I put a cup of coffee down in front of him.
       "So, talk to me," I said.
       "Well, where do I begin? I got your email, and I was going to call you. I got it at school, actually, and I didn't have my phone with me. I was going to call as soon as I got home, but the wrath of God was waiting for me when I got there. I had ordered a couple of gay porn DVD's, and they had come in that day. My mother opened them. She called my father, and they were waiting there for me. It got pretty ugly," he said.
       "Did they hit you or anything?" I asked.
       "Oh, no. They would never lower themselves to that. We're upper-middle class, after all," he said ironically. "No, they wanted us to engage in 'dialogue.' Actually, they wanted to engage in monologue, and I was to be the audience," he said. "For--oh, I don't know--seven hours, let's say?"
       "Shit," I said.
       "Oh, yeah. Shit is right," he said.
       He was obviously extremely intelligent and very articulate. On the sophistication scale, this was no Justin Davis or Kyle Goodson I was dealing with. This kid was slick.
       "What did you do? Just sit there and listen?" I asked.
       "I sat there, certainly, but I'm not sure how much I listened. Something they commented on several times, by the way. Jeff, they simply will not take me seriously. They tell me I'm not gay. I tell them I've got the condoms to prove it. They say it's a normal adolescent flirtation with homosexuality that I'll outgrow. I say it's the way I am. I had been dating this boy for about a month. They said I was to have nothing more to do with him, and they got a court restraining order against him. I wasn't in love with Jared, but, damn it, I should be able to choose who I date," he said.
       "How old is Jared?" I asked.
       "He's twenty-one," he said.
       Wow, that's quite an age difference, I thought.
       "I need to make a couple of phone calls, okay?" I said.
       "Sure," he said. "I guess my showing up here was a bit of a surprise."
       "Yeah, it was."
       I called Justin's cell phone number, but I got his voice mail.
       Shit, I thought.
       Then I called the main house number, and Kyle answered.
       "Hello," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, it's me. Is Justin home?"
       "Hey, Jeff. What's going on, Bubba?" Kyle said.
       "A lot. I want to talk to Justin," I said.
       "You don't want to talk to me? That hurts my feelings, Jeff. As much as I care about you," he said.
       "Kyle, you are a total shithead. Get Justin on the phone," I demanded.
       Kyle burst out laughing.
       "Okay, let me find him. I think he's working out," he said. "I'm moving toward the French doors to the patio. I'm turning the handle and opening the door. I'm stepping out onto the patio right now, headed toward the clubhouse. Nobody is in the pool or on the patio. The dogs are with me."
       He was whispering like he was broadcasting a golf game, and I was laughing.
       "I'm opening the door of the weight room in the clubhouse. I'm greeted by the acrid aroma of male sweat, and I immediately develop an erection. I spot Justin across the room. He's nude, and his short arm is rampant. I'm approaching him from the rear. He hasn't spotted me yet, and the music is so loud he can't even hear me talking to you. I move up behind him, and I scream 'BOO!!!'"
       "Jesus Christ! You scared the fucking shit out of me, man. Don't ever do that again. I could have dropped this fucking thing down on my neck and died," he shouted. "I could have broken my Adam's Apple."
       "If you had done that, we could have had Adam's Apple sauce," Kyle said. "I ain't never had that before."
       I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
       "It's for you," he said.
       "Who is it?" Justin asked, still obviously pissed off at Kyle.
       "It's Jeff," Kyle said.
       "Turn that music down, Kyle," Justin said.
       "Do you know what he just did to me?" Justin said when he took the phone.
       "Yeah, I heard every word of it," I said.
       "Why are you laughing? It ain't funny," he said.
       "Yes, it is," I said. "And you know it."
       "Well, it might be a little bit funny," he said.
       "Are you nude with your short arm rampant?" I asked.
       There was a longish pause.
       "Jeff, if this is phone sex, I need some time to get cleaned up, Bubba," he said.
       I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face.
       "Are you nude with a rampant short arm?" I asked.
       "No, I've got on gym shorts, and I'm soft as a down pillow," he said. "I know you don't want phone sex. What do you want?"
       "I want you to come and work the rest of my shift for me. I'll pay you back. I promise," I said.
       "All right. What's going on?" he asked.
       "Sean Kelly's here," I said.
       "The guy in Virginia that we've been worrying about?" he asked.
       "Yeah, only he's not in Virginia. He's here," I said.
       "I'm totally nasty right now, but I'll be there as fast as I can. In fact, I'm going to make Goodson go in until I can get there. He owes me," Justin said.
       "Okay. Thanks a lot, Jus," I said.
       "No thanks about it. That's just the way we do. 'Bye. Let me go shower and get dressed," he said.
       "It sounded like you were having quite a good time," Sean said.
       "Yeah, well, it was Kyle and Justin. They always make us laugh," I said.
       "I can't wait to meet them," he said.
       "Look, Justin is coming to take my place, but he's sending Kyle over here until he can get showered and dressed," I said. "You wait in here, okay? Do you have money for the vending machine?"
       "Yeah," he said. "I'll be okay."
       I went back out to the desk.
       "Well, I see there's no assignation in progress," Stephen said.
       "No. Justin's coming in to work out the rest of my shift, but Kyle will be here in a few minutes to give Justin time to clean up and get dressed," I said.
       "Where are you going?" Stephen asked.
       "I need to go see Kevin and Rick. This is family business," I said.
       "Oh, 'family' business. I'm surprised you're not driving over to Destin to see Old Man Goodson," he said.
       "'Old Man Goodson?'" I asked.
       "Well 'young-looking-middle-aged-Goodson' then," he said.
       "That's better," I said, and we both laughed.
       Kyle walked in just then.
       "Damn, you got here fast," I said. He was in shorts and a polo shirt, but that would have to do.
       "Speed limits don't apply in an emergency. Where is he?"
       "He's in the lounge," I said.
       Kyle started walking toward the lounge, and I caught up with him. He walked into the lounge right before me. Sean was sitting at the same table, smoking and reading the newspaper.
       "Hi, I'm Kyle Goodson, and you must be Sean," Kyle said.
       Sean got a bright smile on his face as he looked up from the paper. He stood and approached Kyle. They shook hands.
       "It's good to meet you. I feel as though I know you," Sean said.
       "From what Jeff's written?" Kyle asked. Not a trace of an accent.
       "Yeah," he said.
       "I think Jeff writes very well, and I also think he really captures us pretty accurately," Kyle said.
       "I expected you to have an accent. You look about like what I expected, but you don't talk like it," Sean said.
       "I really do talk the way you think I do. I just didn't know you just now, so I wanted to sound good," Kyle said.
       "That's the accent I expected to hear," Sean said. He was grinning.
       "Well, y'all need to get your asses over to see Kevin and Rick, and I need to get my ass out there to pester Stephen a little bit," Kyle said.
       "Be nice to Stephen, Kyle," I said.
       "I'm just going to tease him in fun. I like that guy," Kyle said.
       "I know. Let's go, Sean. Do you have bags or anything?" I asked.
       "Yeah. I left them in the lobby," he said.
       We recovered his bags and left for the Goodson Building.
       * * *
       I had been to the Goodson Building a bunch of times with Kyle, to use the machines they had there, but I had only been one time during the business day. That was the day I did my personnel work for my job. We went up to the fifth floor where Kevin and Rick had their offices. I followed the signs that pointed the way to where they were.
       I found the office that had Kevin's name on it. I opened the door, and I was instantly greeted.
       "Hi, may I help you?"
       It was Kevin's secretary, Mary Ann Pennington. I had heard her praises sung many times.
       "I'm Jeff Martin, and I wondered if I could see Mr. Foley," I said.
       She thought for a moment.
       "You're Jeff? Oh, my God! I know who you are," she said. "You're one of them!"
       I didn't know what that meant, exactly, but she was obviously friendly. She got up and came around her desk. She extended her hand to shake mine, and we did.
       "You know who I am?" I asked.
       "Of course. I know who all of Kevin and Rick's family are," she said. "They talk about you guys all the time."
       "This is Sean Kelly," I said. "I know I should have called, but it's kind of sudden."
       "Have a seat, fellows. Kevin and Rick are both in there with Tony Miller, our Information Services director. You work for Goodson, don't you, Jeff?"
       "Yes, ma'am," I said. "I'm a desk clerk at the Laguna."
       "And you and Clay . . . "
       "Yes, ma'am," I said.
       "So, you're really Goodson family, not just Foley-Mashburn family," she said.
       "Yeah, I guess I am," I said.
       The door opened just then, and Kevin, Rick, and Tony were laughing as they were coming out.
       "Jeff! What are you doing here, man?" Rick said when he saw me.
       "I'm here to talk to you and Kevin. I realize I should have made an appointment, but I've got Sean Kelly with me," I said.
       "Oh," Rick said. "Back it up, Tony."
       They went back into Kevin's office, and Sean and I followed.
       "Can we have some refreshments, please," Kevin said to Mary Ann before he went in.
       "Yes, sir," she said.
       "Kevin, Rick, Tony. This is Sean Kelly," I said, and they all shook hands.
       "Have a seat, guys," Kevin said. "When did you get in, Sean?"
       "A couple of hours ago. I know this is cheeky of me, but I had to leave where I was," he said.
       "No, you're welcome," Rick said. "I don't know if you'll be able to stay, but we'll work on that."
       "We all read your letter to Jeff. Did you ever call him?" Tony asked.
       "You read it?" Sean asked.
       "Tony is Chuck's boyfriend, and Chuck is part of the brotherhood. So that means Tony is, too," I said.
       "Oh," Sean said. "No. I wanted to, but things got out of hand. So I just left."
       "Do your parents know where you are?" Kevin asked.
       "No," Sean said.
       "Well, before we say another word, you're calling them right now and letting them know you're safe," Kevin said.
       Sean got a pained look on his face.
       "I mean it, Sean, or we're not talking to you for another minute," Kevin said.
       There was a long silence.
       "Okay," Sean finally said.
       Kevin handed him his phone, and he punched in the number. There was a long pause, like maybe an answering machine kicked in.
       "Mom and Dad, this is Sean. I want you to know I'm safe and doing well. I'm where I belong. 'Bye."
       "That was awfully quick," Rick said.
       "Yeah, but that's the way it is with them," he said. "Besides, it was just the machine."
       Kevin and Rick had pained looks on their faces.
       "So. Sean. You present us with a legal problem," Kevin said.
       "How so?" Sean asked.
       "Well, you're a minor and a runaway," he said. "We need to deal with that."
       "I'm only a minor by age," Sean said.
       "Yeah, I know. That's kind of the definition of 'minor,' though," Kevin said. "And it's kind of the definition of 'runaway,' too."
       "Are you saying you're not going to shelter me?" Sean asked.
       "No, we didn't say that. But Sean, we're only going to do what's legal. We're not going to jeopardize what we've got going with the other boys for you, son. That can't happen," Rick said.
       "But it's so beautiful here. I heard Jeff talking on the phone to Kyle and Justin a little while ago, and they were all laughing. That's all I want. A little fun and a little laughter in life," Sean said.
       The four Emerald Beach guys in that room were quiet. I knew all of us wanted that kid to be happy, and we all knew he could be very happy on North Lagoon Drive. But Rick was absolutely right. They couldn't jeopardize what they were doing just for him.
       It was almost four o'clock, and the guys would be home from school by then.
       "Let's go home," Kevin said.
       And we did.

Chapter 10

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Kyle, Tim, Denny, and Murray were all at home when we got there with Sean. Brian was off working with the dogs at Mack Mixon's house, and Justin was finishing out Jeff's shift at the hotel. Kyle had already met Sean, and he must have told the others what was going on. The kids were all eyes when we made the introductions.
       "Kyle, would you mind making some coffee, please?" Rick asked.
       "No, problem," Kyle said, as he got up to do it.
       He was gone for a few minutes, and, when he came back, he had a tray of snacks for us. He knew Tim, Denny, and Murray wouldn't drink any coffee, so he brought them each a bottle of juice.
       "I know you had some coffee a little while ago. Would you rather have juice or a coke?" he asked Sean.
       "That juice looks good," Sean said.
       "I'll get you some when I get the coffee," Kyle said.
       "How did you get here?" Tim asked.
       "On a Greyhound bus, and I really don't recommend it," Sean said.
       "I know what you mean. I didn't go to Disney World for Grad Night last year because they went on a damn bus," Kyle said.
       We made more small talk until the coffee was ready. When it was, Kyle brought out the pot and cups and spoons for all of us who wanted them. He brought Sean a bottle of juice, too.
       "Okay, here's what's going to happen," I said, starting the discussion. "We would like for you to live here, Sean, but only if we can work out the legalities. We have a good friend by the name of Mr. Tyrone Williams. He's a supervisor with the Department of Children and Families with the state of Florida. We'll call him and let him know what's going on. He'll know what we have to do next."
       "When will you call him?" Sean asked.
       "In a few minutes. We have his cell number if he's already left the office for the day," I said.
       "In fact, let me go ahead and make the call right now," Rick said.
       He got up and got the cordless phone that was in the den. He sat back down next to me. He pushed a button to speed dial Tyrone's number.
       He asked to speak with Tyrone, but he was evidently already gone.
       "What's his cell phone number?" Rick asked.
       "Dial TWC," I said.
       "How can you remember that?" Kyle asked.
       "They're all programmed alike. The person's initials and C for cell. We use O for office and H for home," I said.
       "That's pretty cool," Kyle said. "What if you get two with the same initials?"
       "We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it," I said.
       "Tyrone, my man," Rick said when Tyrone answered.
       Pause.
       "Well, we've got a little situation on our hands here, Tyrone. Do you know what a blog is?"
       Pause.
       "That's right. Jeff Martin keeps one, and he writes a lot about the family, of course. A young man in Virginia is one of his readers, and he showed up here today unannounced," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "No, they don't," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "He's already called them. He left a message on their answering machine to say that he's safe, but he didn't say where he is," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Okay, I'll get him to do that just as soon as you and I are finished," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "No, of course we don't mind having him here, but we want to do it legally," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Okay. Either Kevin or I or both of us will talk to them," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Babe, do you have anything tomorrow morning that you can't reschedule?" Rick asked me.
       "No, I'm fine. Does he want to come see us tomorrow?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Nine o'clock?"
       "Yeah, that's good," I said.
       "Tyrone, Kevin and I can both meet with you tomorrow morning at nine. I assumed you meant in our office, right?"
       Pause.
       "It's Sean Kelly, and he's fifteen. And, yes, he says he's gay," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Okay. We'll see you tomorrow, then. Do you want Sean there, too?"
       Pause.
       "Okay. 'Bye, and thanks," Rick said before he hung up.
       "I take it he wants me to call my parents again," Sean said.
       "Yes, and he'd like for one of us to talk to them, too," Rick said. "Then he wants to meet with us tomorrow."
       "I dread talking to them," Sean said. "They're going to be furious."
       "I imagine they will be, but you can see their point of view, can't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah, but they're going to be furious because I dared to act on my own," he said. "I hope they let me stay here."
       "Do you think there's any chance they might?" I asked.
       "Well, they've threatened several times to send me to boarding school. I don't really see how this would be any different," Sean said. "I mean, it's not like they're all that crazy about having me around."
       Yikes, I thought. Poor kid.
       "Let's get the phone call over with," Rick said. "Dial your number, please, Sean."
       "Would you mind talking to them?" he asked. "Instead of me, I mean."
       "I'll talk to 'em," Rick said.
       Sean dialed the number and handed the phone to Rick quickly.
       "Hello. Mrs. Kelly?" Rick said.
       Pause.
       "This is Rick Mashburn in Emerald Beach, Florida, and I have your son, Sean, here in my house," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Yes, ma'am, he's fine. I think he's worn out from his bus trip down, but he's in tip-top condition otherwise," Rick said.
       Pause.
       Rick went on to explain that we had already contacted the state people and that we had a meeting with the social worker in the morning at nine o'clock, Central Time. He said he was sure that Mr. Williams would want to talk to her and her husband by phone during that meeting.
       Pause.
       "No, ma'am. We won't put him back on a bus. My partner and I are experienced foster care providers, and we won't turn him over to anybody but you or law enforcement," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Yes, we are a committed gay couple, and we've been together for over six years," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Mrs. Kelly, you and your husband and Sean can work out Sean's sexuality in person later on, but I can assure you he's not too young to know that he's gay." Rick said.
       Sean did a silent "YES!!" when Rick said that.
       Pause.
       "Well, he is safe, and he'll be well taken care of here. There are other boys his age here, too, and they'll look out for him," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "We're happy to do it. The kids mean a great deal to Kevin and me . . . "
       Pause.
       "Well, thank you, and it's been nice talking to you, too," Rick said.
       Then they said goodbye.
       "Was she mad?" Sean asked.
       "She said she was relieved. She was glad you had called and left a message, and she was glad I had called. They haven't gone to the police yet, but I think they were ready to," Rick said.
       "Are they coming to get me?" Sean asked.
       "She asked me not to put you on a bus to send you home, so I assume they will," Rick said.
       "I'm sorry for all the inconvenience, guys," he said, and he started crying. "I hope I don't have to go back."
       Kyle was the closest one to him on the sofa, and he scooted over toward Sean. Kyle wrapped his arm around him.
       "Let it out, Bubba. We got you covered," Kyle said.
       I had rarely seen that group as down as we all were at that moment. Kyle held him for a long time, and Sean gradually got his emotions under control.
       "Bubba, you don't smell too good," Kyle said.
       Sean's response was laughter.
       "I know. I need a shower," he said.
       "And what's this shit all over this face?" Kyle asked, scraping his finger on Sean's cheek.
       "And shave," Sean said. The way he said that was cute, and we all chuckled.
       "Come on. We'll show you your room. Where's your stuff?" Kyle asked.
       "It's still in my car," I said.
       "I'll get it," Tim said.
       "Where are you going to put him?" Rick asked.
       "Third floor. That's the only place there is," Kyle said.
       "Oh, that's right," Rick said. "We've got a full house, haven't we?"
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Guys, I'm going to go on home. Somehow I feel responsible for all of this," Jeff said.
       "That's silly, Jeff. Unless you mean you feel responsible for bringing a new brother into our lives, in which case you should feel proud," I said.
       "Thanks for being so understanding," Jeff said. "I knew there was some reason I loved you guys."
       We chuckled.
       "Sean, it's been good getting to meet you in person. I might not see you again, if you leave tomorrow, but let's stay in touch, okay?" Jeff said.
       "Okay. Can I have a hug?" Sean asked.
       Jeff hugged him hard, and Sean teared up again. He didn't cry, though, and Jeff left for home.
       "Come on, Bubba," Kyle said. "Let's get you squared away with a shower."

(Kyle's Perspective)
       Tim and I took Sean up to the third floor and went into the room with him.
       "This is nice," Sean said. "In fact, this whole place is nice. This room kind of reminds me of a hotel room, though."
       "It should. It's all hotel furniture. The towels will remind you of a hotel, too, 'cause they're hotel towels," I said. "But thick ones. Not those ones that are like tissues."
       "I guess when you're in the hotel business you can get stuff like that cheaper," Sean said.
       "That's exactly right, especially when you go through as many towels as we do around this place. We only get two a week each, but even that's a ton," I said. "And with the pool and all, some weeks we go through a hundred towels."
       "Who washes the clothes?" Sean asked.
       "We each wash our own. We have a maid that comes twice a week, but she just does the sheets and towels. She cleans up, too, of course. She comes on Tuesday and Friday. She washes half the sheets one day and half the other. She puts the clean sheets on our beds for us. When my parents still lived here, I used to take my clothes and Tim's clothes over there, and their maid washed them for us," I said.
       "Your parents don't live here?" he asked.
       "No. They moved to Destin, which is about thirty-five miles from here," I said. "My daddy works over there now. Just come on downstairs when you get your shower."
       "Kyle, would you mind waiting up here for me. I won't take long," he said.
       I thought that was odd, but I guess being in a strange house, and all, he felt kind of funny.
       "Okay. We'll wait for you," Tim said.
       He kicked his deck shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head. He took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his shorts and put it on the desk.
       "That's right. I forgot you smoke. I'll get you an ashtray," I said.
       "Thanks," he said.
       "There are two in our room, Babe," Tim said. "Get one of those."
       "Okay. I'll be right back."
       "You're not afraid of leaving Tim in here with me naked?" he asked.
       I knew he was joking.
       "Shit, no. He don't want what you got," I said, and he laughed.
       I went down and got him an ashtray out of our room. I didn't know there were two in there. He was in the shower when I got back up to his room.
       "He seems really nice, doesn't he?" Tim asked.
       "Yeah, he does. He's got some looks on him, too," I said.
       "You weren't supposed to notice that," Tim said.
       "Yeah, like you didn't, you little sex monkey, you," I said.
       Tim actually blushed a little bit when I said that.
       "What?" I said.
       "You haven't called me that in a long time, Babe. I've missed that," he said.
       "You're always going to be my little sex monkey," I said. "Is that what you're talking about, or are you talking about sex. Are you getting enough?"
       I hoped so, 'cause if he wasn't, I didn't know where anymore was going to come from. We might miss a day now and then, but that was rare.
       "I'm not even going to answer that," he said. "What about you? Are you getting enough?"
       "Do you see me walking around here with a hard-on?" I asked.
       "I see you with a hard-on all the time," he said.
       "I know, and you cause every damn one of 'em. I'm very well satisfied, Tim, and I think you know that." Then it dawned on me. "You're teasing me, aren't you, you little shit?"
       He grinned, and I knew that's exactly what he was doing.
       I couldn't resist. I grabbed him and kissed him right there. And of course, that's exactly when ole Sean walked in. I don't know how long we kissed or how long he watched us, but that dick of his was pumping up.
       "Sorry about that," Tim said.
       "Don't be. I think you guys are very cute," he said.
       "Thanks. Put your clothes on," I said. He was hard as a rock, just standing there in front of two total strangers, and I don't even think he realized it. When he saw it, though, he blushed.
       "We'll meet you downstairs," Tim said.
       "Okay," he said, and we left the room.
       "He was embarrassed," Tim said.
       "I know he was, but he wasn't making any moves to get dressed. He was just standing there looking at us. He didn't even realize he had a hard-on, I don't think," I said.
       "I don't think he realized it, either. At least we know he won't have a problem with skinny dipping if he stays here," Tim said.
       "Do you think he's in there spanking the monkey?" I asked.
       "I don't know. He's been on a bus for several days, though. He might be," Tim said.
       "True. I hadn't thought of that," I said.
       We were back in the den, and Justin and Brian were home by then.
       "Where's the new guy?" Justin asked.
       "He's coming, one way or the other," I said.
       Tim was the only one who could get that joke, and he near 'bout doubled over, he was laughing so hard.
       "What's so funny?" Justin asked.
       "It's a long story, Bubba. You had to be there," Tim said.
       "Well, that's a fine thing when my own brothers won't let me in on a joke," Justin said.
       "We'll tell you, but not right now. Give it a rest," I said.
       "Okay! Don't get mad at me, Kyle, 'cause I'll rip your nuts off, if you do," Justin said.
       "Yeah. Sure," I said back to him.
       "Don't start. Please," Brian said.
       "What's the matter, Little Buddy. You know we were just playing," Jus said.
       "I know, but I had a terrible day," he said.
       "What happened, Bri?" Kevin said. He said it real gentle and kind.
       "One of the dogs I've been working with got killed," he said.
       "Oh, Baby. I'm so sorry," Justin said.
       We all said the same thing.
       "How'd it happen?" Kevin asked.
       "She died of a snakebite. A water moccasin. Her owner lives on a canal in town, and she went into the canal. That's when she got bit. He didn't know what had happened. He heard her yelp, but he wasn't right where she was to see it. It didn't take very long for the venom to get to her," he said.
       "What kind of dog was it, Little Buddy?" Justin asked.
       "A black Lab," he said. And then he started to cry. "She was from the same litter as Krewe, and she was as cute as Krewe is. I loved her." He was sobbing. "When Mr. Mack told me about it, all I could think of was Krewe getting bitten by a fucking snake and dying like that."
       That boy was very upset. He called it a "fucking snake," and that was something Brian never said.
       "Come on. Let's go upstairs, Little Buddy," Justin said.
       "I'm sorry I got so emotional," Brian said.
       "Brian, you know what I'm thinking, don't you?" Rick asked.
       "If I can't get emotional here, where can I?" he asked.
       "That's right, son," Rick said. "Let your boy take care of you now."
       "Okay," Brian said, and they went upstairs.
       "That was rough," I said.
       "I'll bet he didn't cry in front of Mr. Mack," Tim said. "He's been holding that in all afternoon."
       Sean finally came down. He had on some really nice clothes, and I could tell that boy knew how to dress. It looked like he knew how to shop, too.
       "Feeling better?" Kevin asked.
       "Yeah. I almost went to sleep in the shower, standing up," he said.
       "You don't want to do that. You'll fall and bust your ass," I said.
       "When do Justin and Brian get home?" he asked.
       "They're home. They went upstairs. Brian was very upset about something that happened today," Kevin said.
       "What happened?" Sean asked.
       "One of the dogs he was training got bitten by a snake and died," Kevin said.
       "Oh, no," Sean said. "Speaking of dogs, where are your dogs?"
       "That's a good question," Rick said. "Where are they?"
       Brian had gotten the bright idea to put a doggie door in the back door of the house for them to come in and out, especially when we weren't home. Brian, Justin, and Rick had spent a whole day installing the damn thing, and it worked good after Brian taught them how to use it. I figured they were outside somewhere.
       "Kyle, go see if you can find them, would you please?" Rick said.
       "All right," I said.
       Just like I thought, they were out in the back yard playing. If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were playing tag or something.
       "Come on, girls. Y'all get in the house," I said.
       They were so happy to see me, you'd have thought I was Brian or something. That was the thing about those two. They were always glad to see you. They didn't lick anymore, and that was a good thing, but they would put that wet, slimy nose on you in a heartbeat. Nobody seemed to mind that but me, though. I rarely got down low enough around them so they could get to my face with those noses.
       With as many people in and out of our house all the time, you'd have thought they were used to strangers. Oh, no. They had to meet and greet every one of 'em. Sean was a new potential friend, and they had to go say hello to him.
       "Hi, guys," Sean said. He had this big-ass grin on his face, like he was loving every second of it.
       "They won't lick you," I said, "but watch out for the noses."
       "I don't mind that," he said. "I used to have one."
       "A black Lab?" Kevin asked.
       "A yellow Lab. They're the same, though," he said. "My mom told me one time that she had read that Labs were just about the most people-friendly dogs there are."
       "These two are members of the family," Rick said.
       Yeah, you say that now, I thought. That wasn't always your attitude.
       "We'd rather have them than Kevin and Rick," I said. "Especially Rick."
       "Do you guys have trouble getting along?" he asked.
       We all started laughing.
       "These two are identical twins separated at birth," Tim said. "Sometimes we call him Little Rick and him Big Kyle."
       "Rick, I've been thinking about that. I don't think I really like you all that much," I said.
       "Go to your room, Kyle," Rick said.
       "And do what?" I asked, trying to be kind of sexy.
       "Never mind. Forget it. Stay here," Rick said.
       Ole Sean caught on, and he laughed.
       "Let's go see the clubhouse and the pool. And the dock and the boat," I said.
       Krewe's ears perked up when she heard me say "boat."
       "You ain't going out. There's big snakes out there ready to get your ass," I said. I squeezed her haunches a little, and she liked that.
       "Kyle, please don't say that about snakes around Brian," Tim said.
       "Oh, my God! I can't believe I said it. I'm such a dumb shit sometimes. I scare myself," I said.
       Sean laughed. I could tell he was enjoying the hell out of being there.
       "Be careful, Kyle. Brian's pretty fragile right now," Rick said.
       "I know. I will never say s-n-a-k-e again in my life," I said.
       "Yes, you will, asshole," Justin said. He and Brian were back in the room.
       "Are you feeling better, Bubba?" Kevin asked Brian.
       "Yeah. Thanks, guys. You must be Sean. I'm Brian Mathews, and this is my partner, Justin Davis," he said. They all shook hands.
       "You guys are awesome," Sean said.
       He was looking at those two like he had snake on the mind, but not the kind that bit that dog.
       "We were just going out to look at stuff," I said.
       "Okay. Is anybody besides me hungry?" Justin asked.
       "We had a snack when we first got home," Rick said. "Get yourself something to eat."
       "What we got?" Justin asked.
       "Go look and see," I said. "There's some fried chicken in the refrigerator, and it's good."
       "Where'd it come from? Publix?" Justin asked.
       "No, I fried it this afternoon," I said.
       "For real?" he asked.
       "No, I didn't fry any chicken, and, yes, it came from Publix. Where does everything we eat come from?" I asked.
       "You could have fried a damn chicken, Kyle," he said.
       "Yeah, but we got a whole flock fried up in there," I said.
       "A flock?"
       "Yeah. Ain't that what they come in? Flocks?" I said.
       "You're thinking of a flock of sheep," Justin said.
       "They're mighty little sheep, if that's what they are," I said. "Get in there and get you some food, before I flock your ass."
       They all laughed.
       "Oh, that was a good one. You got me last on that one, for sure," Justin said.
       Justin and Brian went into the kitchen to get themselves some food.
       "We play a game called 'Got You Last,'" Tim started to tell Sean.
       "I know. I read about it in Jeff's blog," he said. "Do you guys read it?"
       "I know he writes something on the Internet, but I don't know where it is," I said.
       Justin and Brian came back in with big plates of fried chicken and some really good cucumber and tomato salad with feta cheese I had bought. They each had a coke and a biscuit, too.
       "Do y'all read the stuff Jeff writes on the Internet?" I asked Justin and Brian.
       "I knew he wrote stuff. I just look at the pictures, though," Justin said.
       "I've read some of it," Brian said. "He writes really well, and I think he really captures who we are."
       "Kyle, those are almost the exact words you used this afternoon when we were talking about Jeff's blog," Sean said.
       "I know, but I didn't say I read it. I've heard Brian say that before," I said.
       Sean got a kick out of that.
       "He can barely read," Justin said through a big mouthful of food.
       "That's not true. I can read. I just choose not to," I said.
       "Kyle, you read. You're misleading him," Tim said.
       "That's his Emerald Beach, 'I'm dumb, and I can prove it,' bullshit," Justin said.
       "Sean, I do read, but I really haven't read the blog yet," I said.
       "I've read most of it, Sean," Tim said.
       "So have I," Kevin and Rick both said.
       "I don't remember seeing any pictures in the blog," Sean said. "What pictures were you talking about, Justin?"
       "The ones on the family Web site," Jus said. "You probably don't know about that. You have to know the magic words to get into it."
       "No, I don't," Sean said. "Can I see it?"
       "Yeah, but later, okay?" I said.
       "Okay, but don't forget. I might not be here very long," he said.
       Nobody responded to that.
       "This was good, Kyle," Justin said. "I enjoyed my supper."
       "I enjoyed my supper, too, Kyle," Brian said.
       He gathered up the paper plates and silverware he and Brian had been using, and he took them to the back.
       "Why did you guys say that, Brian?" Sean asked.
       "Say what?" Brian asked.
       "That you enjoyed your supper," Sean said.
       "That's just what people do around here," I said.
       "Sean, it's something Kyle introduced us to. It's a way of thanking the person responsible for the meal. Kyle didn't cook that food, but he got it for us. They were just letting him know they appreciated his efforts," Kevin said.
       "I like that," Sean said.
       "Let's go look at the facilities before it gets pitch dark out there," I said.
       I've lived in real nice places all my life, but I didn't think there was a better, or more boy-friendly, place anywhere than that patio-pool-clubhouse-dock-boat. What else could you ask for? If you were into sports and working out, we had tons of that stuff. If you liked to watch TV or movies, or listen to music, we had some of the best equipment available to do that. We had the best computer and the fastest connection available. If you liked to play cards or board games, we had what you needed for that. We had more video games than anybody I knew, and if all you liked to do was sit and read, like a certain brother of mine did, we had some of the most comfortable furniture you could imagine.
       The pool was huge, and the patio was beautiful, thanks to the yard guys and Rick. The dock was a dock, but the boat was pretty damn nice. It had given all of us and our friends many, many hours of pleasure. I was so glad I had thought to name it after my brother. We were blessed, we were spoiled, and I knew it. But when I thought of all the guys who had had so much fun and so much fellowship and so much brotherhood at that place, it made me feel good. I knew Kevin and Rick were besides themselves with pride over what they were doing. As well they should be.
       I wasn't one to pray much, except like when we went to church. But that night, as we were poking around, I asked God to please let Sean stay with us, at least for a little while. I knew the key to the whole thing was Mr. Tyrone. I knew he knew what was going on in the lives of some very lucky boys on North Lagoon Drive, and I prayed that God would give him the words to say to Sean's parents so Sean could stay with us.
       "Do y'all want to swim?" I asked, after Sean had ooh-ed and aah-ed over the stuff.
       "I do," Justin said. "Where are Denny and Murray? And where the hell is Ken?" Justin asked.
       "Ken's still at work," Rick said. "We had a server go down in the gift shop in the Goodson Building, and he's working on getting that back on line."
       "Denny and Murray are both doing homework," Tim said.
       "What about you guys? Do you have homework?" Kevin asked Tim and Brian.
       "Nothing pressing," Brian said.
       "Me, either," Tim said.
       He knew those two were going to make straight A's, so there was no point in dogging 'em. I had a little reading to do, but I didn't have class until eleven the next day, and I'd do it in the morning. Or not. I figured Justin had already done his homework, if he had any. That was the way he was.
       "Let's get in the water," I said.
       Sean stripped right down in front of us, like he had been doing it all his life. He dove right in with the rest of us.
       "Let's play 'dick tag,' and Rick is 'it,'" I said.
       Sean even knew what that game was all about, and we had a hell of a time playing together that night.
       "Please, God, don't let Sean go away," I prayed silently, as Tim was turning out our light that night.

(Sean's Perspective)
       I had come out to my parents at the beginning of the summer after my freshman year, when I first started dating Jared. He was twenty-one years old, and he was going into his senior year of college at the University. Jared was out to everybody, and he said he hadn't suffered any bad repercussions from coming out. He encouraged me to tell my parents.
       I was an only child, and that basically sucked. My mom was thirty-nine when I was born, and my dad was forty-two. They had gotten married when they were in their twenties, and I was convinced I was an "accident." My mom was now fifty-five years old, and my dad was fifty-eight, and they didn't know what to do with a teenager. He was the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at one of the best state universities in the country, and my mom was a professor of philosophy at the same school. They were very devoted to their careers, and, frankly, I basically got in the way.
       The dean of Arts and Sciences has a very prominent position in a small college town that has a huge major university and nothing else. Neither one of my parents was homophobic in the traditional sense, and they had many openly gay friends. My dad had to deal with issues associated with GLBT rights and programs all the time, and he always came out on the pro-GLBT side. So. My coming out was a piece of cake, right? No way.
       "No, you're not gay," my mother said right after I told them. She said that with the same conviction as she would have said, "No, you're not pregnant."
       "Mom, I'm gay. Every bit of me is gay," I said.
       "Sean, you can't possibly be gay. There is absolutely no history of homosexuality in our family on either side, so how could you be homosexual?" she asked.
       "Mom, I don't believe this," I said. "How do you know nobody in either family has ever been gay? Huh?"
       "Son, your mother's right. Recent studies of the genetic origins of homosexuality are pretty compelling," Dad said.
       "I don't care about genetics or any of that crap. I know how I feel, Dad," I said.
       "You know how you think you feel," he said.
       "Are you telling me that my feelings don't play a part here?" I asked.
       "No, of course they do, but your mother and I just don't think you're old enough to know how you feel," he said.
       "Dad, you and Mom have never once put down gays in my presence. Gay faculty and student couples have been in this house a million times. There have been editorials in the campus paper praising your attitude toward gays and lesbians. I don't get it," I said.
       "Sean, you're only fourteen," he said.
       "I'm fifteen, Dad, and in October I'm going to be sixteen," I said.
       "Yes, well, I'm afraid I need to cut this short. I've got an event tonight. We'll talk about this another time," he said.
       That was it. That was my grand "coming out." They didn't believe me. They didn't trust me to know how I felt, and they damn sure didn't have time to explore it with me.
       "Don't forget, I'm leaving tomorrow for that conference at Stanford," Mom said to my dad, as he pecked her on the cheek.
       "Oh, right, and I've got that wretched legislative testimony for the next week or more in Richmond," he said.
       That was the first I had heard of either thing. When I was little, they would buttonhole a graduate student to come and stay at our house to baby sit me when they were out of town, but they had stopped those arrangements when I had turned twelve. Now, they simply left me on my own. Often.
       I was basically a neglected child who had more money and more "things" than I knew what to do with. I lived in a great house. I had beautiful clothes. I knew I'd get a terrific car when I was old enough to drive. I got an allowance of $200 a week. I had everything I wanted but parents who would listen to me. Parents who cared. I lived in the lap of luxury, and I was miserable.
       "Did you tell your folks?" Jared asked me the next day.
       "Yeah, but they didn't believe me. There's no genetic record to indicate that I might be gay, so, therefore, I'm not," I said.
       "Jeeze, that's pretty extreme," he said.
       "I know," I said.
       * * *
       Jared was a really cool guy, but he wanted to hang out with guys his own age a lot of the time. I mean, I looked old for my age, but I was still only fifteen. The shit hit the fan the night the police raided a club Jared had taken me to. They took me in for underage drinking, and, of course, they called my parents in the middle of the night. It was, ironically, July Fourth, Independence Day.
       "Who is this boy you were with?" my father demanded when they got me home.
       "His name's Jared, and he's my boyfriend," I said. "We've been dating for a month."
       "Dating?" he asked, only he said it like we had been counterfeiting or murdering or scalding puppies.
       "Yes, Dad. Dating. Gay guys date, too, you know?" I said.
       "Don't use that tone of voice with me, Sean," he said. "I want you to stop seeing him immediately. He's much too old for you to have as a friend, as tonight's fiasco proves."
       I didn't respond.
       "Well, say something," he said.
       "Say what, Dad? He's my friend. I like him. We have fun together. Why should I stop dating him?" I asked.
       "You're impossible," he said. "Your mother and I both have very full days tomorrow. We'll talk about this another time. Go to bed. It's two o'clock in the morning."
       That was the way it was. Being gay was fine, for everybody but me. Having a boyfriend was fine, for everybody but me. Being an independent person was fine, for everybody but me.
       I discovered Jeff's blog toward the end of August. He had been writing it for several months, and I devoured his archives like a starving man would devour a banquet. I read about the guys in Emerald Beach, and I longed to be in that environment. Jeff was a good writer, and he painted word pictures of an incredibly happy gay family, who had a huge circle of gay and straight friends, all of whom loved, or at least accepted, one another. I knew I had to get down there to be a part of that.
       My father got a restraining order against Jared's seeing me right after the Fourth of July. Jared and I were friends. We had kissed some, and we had even jerked each other off a few times when the kissing had made us so hot we couldn't stand it, but we weren't in love. When my dad got that restraining order, Jared dropped me like a hot potato. He had to, or face police action.
       That was it. I knew I needed to be out of there. I wrote to Jeff saying I had botched a suicide attempt, but I really hadn't. I knew suicide was a red flag for gay men dealing with gay teenagers because of the high incidence of suicide among my age group. I was hoping Jeff, and the others in Emerald Beach, would want me to come there to keep me alive. I knew that was terribly manipulative, but I was pretty desperate.
       When I got there and met them, though, I was immediately sorry I had misrepresented myself. They didn't care if I had slit my wrists on the White House lawn. They didn't even mention it. They were much more sophisticated than I expected, and they were a good bit smarter, too. But most of all, they were incredibly nice and incredibly normal. And they took care of one another.
       I made a fool of myself with Kyle and Tim by getting an erection when I saw them kissing. They basically ignored that, even though I was mortified by it. Then I learned that Brian was upset because a dog he had been working with had died of a snakebite. They rallied behind Brian. That's what I wanted. A family who cared about one another, even though the one they cared about was just a kid.
       I went to bed that night a bundle of contradictions. On the one hand, I felt guilty for misleading them into thinking I had attempted suicide and needed them to keep me from killing myself. On the other hand, I felt as though I had come to the place where I was destined to be.
       I masturbated twice that night. Once after I had seen Kyle and Tim kissing, and again when I went to bed. I was thinking about Kyle and Justin naked in the pool, but I was also thinking about either, or both, or them in bed with me.
       The last thing I remember thinking before I went to sleep was how much I truly dreaded the next day.

Chapter 11

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I woke up at five o'clock. Tim and I set the alarm clock every night for 6:30 in the morning, but I was wired that day. I looked at my baby lying next to me in the dim half light, and I wanted him so bad. That wasn't fair, though, and I could wait till that night. I was holding him, and I was spooned right up against him, too.
       "Wha . . ." he said, when I turned him loose.
       "Nothing. Go back to sleep," I said.
       "Okay," he said, and he was back to sleep before I got out of bed.
       I took care of my needs in the bathroom, and put on the bikini briefs I had worn the day before. I went downstairs. Rick was there, getting ready for his run with the dogs.
       "Hey, Kyle. Why are you up so early?" he asked.
       "I don't know. I just couldn't sleep. I need some thinking time, I guess," I said.
       "It's Sean, isn't it?" he said.
       "Yeah, I guess," I said. "He needs to stay here, Rick."
       "I know," Rick said. "Maybe his parents will let him."
       "You're going to meet with Mister Tyrone today, aren't you?" I asked
       "Yeah, we're supposed to," Rick said.
       "Can I be there? To support Sean?" I asked.
       "Let's see what Kevin says," Rick said.
       He went out to run, and he took the two dogs with him. I went into the den and lay down on a sofa. I went back to sleep.
       "There you are," Tim said, waking me up. "I was wondering where you were."
       "I woke up really early, and I came downstairs," I said.
       "You're worried about Sean, aren't you?" Tim said.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Babe, he's going to be okay," Tim said.
       "I hope so, Tim, but he needs us, I think," I said.
       "I know," Tim said.
       "Get on here with me," I said.
       "Kyle, I don't have time for that," he said.
       "Five minutes. That's all," I said.
       "It feels so good to be here with you," Tim said.
       I nuzzled up close to him. I was totally hard, and I knew he was, too. We didn't have sex out there in the den, but it was a very sensual experience for both of us. We both dozed off, too.
       "Tim. Wake up. We're going to be late," Brian was saying.
       "Okay. I'm sorry," Tim said. "I've got to go to school, Babe. I need to get dressed. I've already had my shower."
       "Okay. But Tim, I want you in me bad right now," I said.
       "I know. I want you, too," Tim said.
       "You guys! Cut it out. You're making me hard," Brian said. "Let's go, Tim."
       Timmy blushed, and so did I. Thank God it was Brian, and not Kevin or Rick, I thought. I kissed Tim and he got up. I got up in a minute, too, and went into the kitchen. Sean and Ken were the only ones at the table. I still had me a full-blown stiffy, and they were both staring at it.
       "Morning," I said, pouring myself some coffee.
       "Good morning," they both said.
       "I guess you guys met, huh?" I said.
       "Yeah. I was a little surprised to find Sean here," Ken said.
       "What time did you get home last night?" I asked Ken.
       "It was after one," he said.
       "Did you have a date?" Sean asked.
       "No. I wish. I was working. We had a server go down in the Goodson Building, and that is an A-Number-One top priority. We don't leave until the problem is fixed," Ken said.
       "Do you get overtime pay for that?" I asked.
       "No. I'm on salary, not hourly. They make it up to you in what they call comp time," Ken said.
       "What does that mean?" I asked.
       "Compensatory time. Time off, in other words," he said. "I've got quite a bit of it, actually."
       "Have y'all seen Kevin and Rick this morning?" I asked.
       "Not yet. They haven't woken up yet, I guess," Sean said.
       "Oh, yeah. They're awake, and I know what they're doing, too," I said.
       "What?" Sean asked. That kid had a lot to learn.
       "What does a married couple do?" I asked.
       "Sex?" he asked, sort of blushing.
       "Yeah. Only we call it making love. Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
       "I dated a guy for a while, so, yeah, I guess you could say I had a boyfriend," he said.
       "Any sex?" Ken asked.
       "That's kind of private, don't you think?" Sean said.
       "Yeah, it is. Ken, I know you didn't mean anything bad when you asked him that, but I guess nobody told you the house rules. What we do in private, stays in private. No public shows of affection, except maybe a hug or a quick 'hello' or 'goodbye' kiss. I probably shouldn't have said what I did about Kevin and Rick," I said.
       "I wish I had known those rules before I asked him," Ken said. "Thanks for telling me. I could have really embarrassed myself."
       "Any other rules?" Sean asked.
       "The only other one is that nobody does anything unless both guys really want it. And I mean really want it," I said. "Absolutely no forced sex."
       "Can I ask a question?" Sean said.
       "Sure," I said.
       "Is everybody in the house sexually active?" he asked.
       "Everybody here is gay. Kevin and Rick, Justin and Brian, and me and Tim are couples, and we're all sexually active. I don't know about the rest," I said.
       "Do you and Tim have group sex with Justin and Brian?" Sean asked.
       "See, that's the kind of question you're not supposed to ask. But I'll tell you anyway. Basically, no," I said. "And that's as far as I'm going."
       "Are you mad at me?" Sean asked.
       "No, I'm not mad at you. That's a natural thing to be curious about, especially since the two couples are so close. You're just learning the rules," I said.
       "Sean, if you stick around here, you're going to have your eyes opened big time about the life of a group of gay men," Ken said.
       "What do you mean?" Sean asked.
       "They just live like ordinary people. Have you ever seen the show Queer as Folk?" he asked.
       "Yeah. I bought all the videos, in fact. DVD's, actually," Sean said.
       "What you see on that show isn't the kind of life these guys live," Ken said. "Not by a long sight."
       "I know you guys have parties because of what Jeff said in his blog," Sean said.
       "Yeah, we party all the time," I said. "That's why we have the clubhouse and all that stuff. We have a lot of friends. We don't have sex parties, though."
       "Would you go to a sex party?" Sean asked.
       "I'm not planning to ever have sex with anybody but Tim," I said. "I need to get a shower and get dressed. I'm going with y'all to the meeting with Mr. Williams."
       "Good. I was hoping you would," Sean said.
       I took my shower and shaved. I put on some nice clothes. Not dress clothes, but nice sport clothes. I put on a pair of long khaki pants, and that felt strange as hell. I couldn't even remember the last time I had had on long pants.
       "Well, don't you look nice," Kevin said. He and Rick and Sean were in the den.
       "I'm going with you, aren't I?" I said.
       "Yeah. Rick said you wanted to go, and I think that might help ole Sean, here, stay a little calmer," Kevin said.
       "Are you nervous?" I asked Sean.
       "God, yes. Would it be okay if I smoked?" Sean asked.
       "Yeah, you can smoke in the house," Rick said. "Everybody else does."
       "Not everybody," I said.
       "Who doesn't?" Rick said.
       "Well, you don't, for one, dummy," I said. "Tim and Brian don't. Denny doesn't."
       "You seldom do," Rick said.
       "I smoke all I want to," I said.
       "You just don't want to," Rick said.
       "That's right. These guys used to call me The Smoker before they knew my name because back then I was smoking some," I told Sean. "That's all they knew about me. I was Tim's friend, and I was The Smoker."
       Sean sort of smiled. I think that cheered him up a little bit. I hoped it did, anyway.
       "Did you smoke that cigar that Craig gave you when Rob was born?" Rick asked.
       "Hell, no. That thing's as big as a dick," I said.
       "And that fact causes you problems?" Rick asked.
       "Shut up," I said. But he and I were both laughing.
       "Let's go on and go," Kevin said. "Kyle, you can show Sean around the Goodson Building until it's time for our meeting."
       "Wow! You have your own building?" Sean said. He was teasing me.
       "I wish it was mine. They'd be two empty offices on the fifth floor, if it was," I said.
       "Yeah, right," Rick said.
       He went to tousle my hair, but I dodged him.
       "What are you doing? I worked hard on this hair," I said.
       The fact of the matter was I hadn't done shit to it except put gel in it and run my fingers through.
       "I forgot about what a talented hairdresser you are, Kyle," Rick said.
       "Yeah? I'll dress your hair by putting a paper sack over your head. That would be the first step in the Emerald Beach beautification project," I said.
       Sean giggled a little bit when I said that. That was good, 'cause you can't laugh and feel bad at the same time. Maybe he was feeling a little better.
       "Let's start the tour in the coffee shop," I said when we got to the building.
       "Okay. I need to go upstairs and let Mary Ann know what's going on. She'll need to get some refreshments ready," Kevin said.
       "I need to go up, too," Rick said. "Watch the time, Kyle. This meeting starts at nine, so y'all be up there at least five minutes before nine."
       "Okay," I said, and they left.
       "You want something to eat? They have really good pastries here," I said.
       "My stomach's too nervous to eat," Sean said. "Maybe a bottle of juice would be nice."
       I got me four bear claws and a cup of coffee, and I got him a bottle of that Sobe mixed fruit juice.
       "Let's sit on the deck so we can smoke," I said.
       We didn't say much while I was eating. I didn't know where they got those bear claws, but I loved them. I think I could eat a dozen.
       "Will it bother you if I smoke?" Sean asked.
       "Naw. Go ahead. Justin smokes a lot when he gets nervous, too," I said.
       "You and Justin are funny. And so are you and Rick," Sean said.
       "Justin and Rick are funny, too," I said.
       There was a pause in the conversation, and I kept eating.
       "Kyle, do you believe in God?" Sean asked me.
       Where did that come from? I wondered.
       "Yeah, I believe in God," I said, with a big mouthful of food. "Don't you?"
       "Not really," he said. "I mean I don't doubt that there could be a God, but I just never think about it."
       "There's a name for that," I said.
       "Yeah. It's 'agnostic,'" he said.
       For some reason, I could never remember that word.
       "Why did you ask me that just now?" I asked.
       "Because at times like this, I wish I believed in God so I could say a prayer," he said.
       "I said a prayer for you last night," I said. "I don't do that very often, but I did it last night."
       "You did?"
       "I sure did. I asked God to let you stay here with us," I said.
       "That really makes me feel good," he said. "Thank you."
       "You're welcome. I hope it works," I said.
       Most of the first floor of that building, and all of the second floor, was a gift shop. They closed down most of the gift shops when it wasn't tourist season, but they kept that one, and three or four other big ones, open year round. I didn't know the people who worked there, but we spent a few minutes looking at the stuff they had for sale.
       I didn't know how he was fixed for smokes, but I knew nobody was going to sell them to him without ID.
       "Put these in your pocket," I said, handing him a pack I had bought.
       He got this big surprised look on his face, and then he smiled.
       "Thanks," he said.
       "Don't mention it. I'll probably bum 'em back from you," I said.
       "Any time you want one," he said, smiling.
       "Okay," I said. "We better go up."
       "Jesus," he mumbled. "I'm so scared."
       That boy was hurting bad, and I hated to see that. I did something I probably was going to regret, but I just said "fuck it," and I took his hand. It was a hot day, but his hand was ice cold. The elevator came, and we got on, still holding hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw there was somebody in there, but I didn't pay attention to who it was.
       "Isn't that cute? Look at the sweet little fags holding hands on the elevator," a voice said.
       I saw red. I spun around as fast as I could, and it was fucking Chuck standing there grinning at me.
       "What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. "You didn't know it, but you were fixing to get it good, Bubba."
       He was laughing, and, of course, I started laughing, too.
       "This joker is one of our brothers from the townhouse. Sean, this is Chuck Jackson. Chuck, this is Sean Kelly," I said.
       "Nice to meet you, Sean. I certainly know who you are," Chuck said.
       "What are you doing here?" I asked.
       "Sales meeting. You do remember I work for this company, don't you?" he said.
       "I didn't know that," I said.
       "Yeah, right," he said. "Are y'all meeting with Kevin and Rick?"
       "Yeah, and the social worker, Tyrone Williams," I said.
       "Good luck, Sean. Anybody who wants to be here enough to do what you did ought to get to stay," Chuck said.
       "Thanks," Sean mumbled.
       We got off on the fifth floor, but Chuck stayed on.
       "That's a good guy right there," I said. "His boyfriend is Tony Miller, and he works here, too. We can go meet him when we're finished."
       "I know," he said.
       Damn, I need to read Jeff's blog and find out what all this boy knows about me, I thought.
       "Hi, Kyle. Hi, Sean," Miss Mary Ann said when we walked into her office. "Go right in. They're waiting for you."
       I looked at my watch, and it was exactly five minutes to nine. We weren't late.

(Tyrone's Perspective)
       The traffic leading up to the bridge, and on the bridge itself, was bad, as usual. I looked over at the first span of the new bridge, and I noticed they had gotten the last piece in place. It wouldn't be long now before they'd open that thing.
       "Hi, Tyrone," Kevin and Rick said in unison when Kevin's secretary showed me in.
       "Hi, fellows," I said.
       There was a tray of pastries on the table, and there was a bucket of ice with water and juice. The coffee smelled fresh, too. I fixed myself a cup of coffee at their invitation, but I passed on the pastries. They looked awfully good, but I had promised my doctor I would lose weight because of my blood pressure.
       In a minute, Sean came in with another boy that I recognized as being one of the kids at the home. It turned out to be Kyle Goodson, and I felt like a dummy for not remembering his name. I meet so many kids, though.
       I had spoken with Kevin earlier that morning from my car on the way over, so I had the basics.
       "Sean, are you still troubled by thoughts of suicide?" I asked.
       He blushed to the roots of his hair.
       "It's nothing to be ashamed of, son. We're just happy it didn't have the desired effect. Exactly how did you do it, anyhow?" I asked.
       "I didn't. I lied," Sean said.
       Kevin, Rick, and Kyle looked at one another with shock on their faces.
       "You didn't attempt suicide?" I asked.
       "No. I'm sorry I lied about that, but I thought it would make them want to take me in if I said that," he said. "I'm really not usually a liar. Does that make you change your mind about my staying here?"
       "I don't think so," Kevin said, and Rick agreed.
       I could see the relief on the boy's face.
       "Tell us about the situation at home," I said.
       He told his story, and it was one I had heard countless times before from runaways. He was from an affluent, well-educated family that basically considered him a bother. He had all the material goods he needed, but there was evidently little or no love in his home. I knew from years of experience that fifteen-year-olds were perfectly capable of knowing if they were gay or not, and I thought his parents should know that, too.
       I explained the legalities to him. The only way he could stay there was if his parents gave their permission for him to stay, no matter how badly he wanted to.
       "Do you think they might give their consent?" I asked him.
       "I don't know. They might. They've talked a bunch of times about sending me to boarding school. I don't see how this would be much different," he said.
       "Well, let's see if we can get them on the phone. I'd like to talk with them," I said.
       Sean dialed the number, and his fingers were trembling as he did so. That was one scared little boy, even if he did look like he was twenty years old.
       "Hello, Mrs. Kelly, this is Tyrone Williams with the Florida Department of Children and Families," I said.
       "Hello, Mr. Williams. I was expecting your call," she said, rather cool I thought.
       "Is Mr. Kelly there? If he is, he might want to get on an extension," I said.
       "Dean Kelly isn't here. He had a meeting of the Faculty Senate this morning," she said.
       "Oh, I see," I said. I could certainly see how a teachers' meeting would be more important than his son's welfare, I thought, sarcastically.
       "I'll relay to him everything we discuss," she said.
       "Okay. Well, it's like this," I said, and I explained the situation.
       "We've considered boarding school for Sean, but we'd have to be convinced those people in Florida were worthy to raise our son," she said.
       She was starting to piss me off. I started to tell her about the miracles I had seen with my own eyes, but I held my tongue.
       "I understand your concern. I can certainly vouch for Mr. Foley and Mr. Mashburn. You do understand they're a firmly committed gay couple, don't you?"
       "Yes. That, in itself, isn't a problem for either my husband or me," she said. "My son isn't gay, but we certainly have numerous gay friends, colleagues, and associates."
       "But your son says he's gay," I said.
       "Mr. Williams, I really don't want to discuss my son's sexuality with you," Mrs. Kelly said.
       "All right," I said. "What will it take to convince you that Mr. Foley and Mr. Mashburn are worthy of your son?"
       The boy cringed when he heard me use the word "worthy," and I winked at him.
       "We'd like to meet them, talk to them, inspect their home," she said. "We've both got horrendous schedules for the next two weeks, but, after that, we'd like to visit and make our decision then."
       "Two weeks?" I asked, somewhat aghast it would take them that long.
       "Yes. Can that be arranged?" she asked.
       "I'm sure it can be. In the meantime, I'm going to get a temporary custody order in place so Kevin and Rick can act as Sean's parents. For school and such," I said.
       "I'll fax you his birth certificate and a power of attorney. We don't want this to go through the courts," she said. "What's the fax number there?"
       "What's your fax number, Kevin?" I asked.
       He told me, and I repeated it into the phone.
       "Do you have telephone numbers so you can make arrangements for your visit?" I asked.
       "No, but I'd like to have them," she said.
       "Let me give you to Kevin so he can tell you their numbers," I said.
       "Very well," she said.
       Kevin introduced himself and gave her several telephone numbers to reach them. When that was done, they concluded their conversation and hung up.
       "So what's the deal?" Rick asked.
       "Apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly are willing to consider letting him stay," I said.
       "She likes to be called Dr. Kelly, and he likes to be called Dean Kelly," Sean said.
       I nodded to acknowledge what he had said.
       "What do we have to do? Pass inspection?" Kevin asked.
       "Basically, yes. You really can't blame them for that, Kevin," I said.
       "Oh, I don't. Do you think we'll pass, Sean?" he asked.
       "I know you will. When are they coming?" Sean asked.
       "Not for two weeks," I said. "Horrendous schedules."
       "They always have horrendous schedules," Sean said.
       "Two weeks. That seems like a long time," Rick said.
       "It does to me, too, but what can I say?" I said.
       "What did you need the fax number for?" Kevin asked.
       "She's going to fax his birth certificate and power of attorney. With the power of attorney, we won't have to go to court to get temporary custody papers," I said.
       There was a tap on the door just then, and Kevin's secretary opened it when Kevin told her to.
       "I'm sorry to disturb, but this fax just came. I thought it might be important," she said.
       "That's fine, Mary Ann. It is important. Thank you," Kevin said. "This is what we need. That was fast."
       I examined the power of attorney, and everything about it was in order. I noticed the notary stamp was dated with yesterday's date. That made me a little suspicious.
       "When did you get here?" I asked Sean.
       "Yesterday afternoon," he said.
       "And you all talked to them after he got here, of course," I said.
       "Yeah," Rick said. "I was the one on the phone, and it was just Mrs. Kelly. Dr. Kelly, I mean. Why do you ask?"
       "Well, I'm a little curious. This is a professionally-prepared power of attorney. They must have called their lawyer immediately," I said.
       "Their best friend is a lawyer," Sean said. "He probably did it."
       "Thomas Mallory signed it," I said.
       "Yeah, that's him," Sean said.
       "Well, Sean, you're going to be here for at least two weeks, anyway," I said. "This is all the business we have, so . . . "
       "Okay, Tyrone. Thanks a bunch, man," Rick said. "Welcome to the family, Bubba."
       Sean was grinning enough to split his cheeks. He was a happy boy, and that's what I liked to see.
       "Let's go get some lunch," Kyle said.
       "It's only ten o'clock," Kevin said. "Eat some of those pastries, if you're hungry."
       That Kyle was one of the best looking boys I had ever seen, and one of the most manly, too. He had been eyeing those pastries all during the meeting. His family had a lot of money, and more than once workers in my office had hit his old man up for a donation when a kid needed something the agency couldn't pay for. I promised myself I would never again forget his name.
       He got a napkin and stacked up two bear claws on it. I fondly remembered when I could eat like that and not have to worry about gaining weight. Sean got himself a couple, too.
       "Well, I feel like we're on the right track," I said, shaking hands with Kevin and Rick. "Don't give away all your beds. You never know when I'm going to need one."
       They chuckled a bit. I wished I could put a show about those guys and their home on national television. That would destroy stereotypes and homophobes alike, if I could do that. Driving back to the office, I said a silent prayer for Sean and his new family. My gut feeling was Sean would be there the rest of his life.

(Sean's Perspective)
       The meeting with Mr. Williams went so much better than I thought it would. I had been worried to death about telling them I had lied about my suicide. I just knew they were going to send me packing, but they didn't. I wasn't out of the woods yet, but I was pretty sure my parents were going to let me stay there.
       "Kyle, I hope you don't think I'm a liar, because I'm not," I said. We were in his car driving out of the parking lot.
       "Well, you lied about the suicide," he said.
       "I know, but I was desperate," I said.
       He thought for a few moments.
       "I can understand that," he said. "I try not to lie, but I know that sometimes you have to, especially if you're desperate. I won't hold it against you, and I won't tell the others, either. And I know Kevin and Rick won't."
       That was a load off my mind, and that was the next thing I was going to ask him. Not to tell.
       "What do you feel like doing?" he asked.
       "I don't know. Do you have class or anything?" I asked.
       "I had a nine o'clock class this morning, but I cut it to go to the meeting. I usually have an eleven o'clock, too, on Friday, but it was called off today. Do you want to see what the place looks like?"
       "Yeah, that would be good," I said.
       "Oh, I almost forgot. Before we do anything, let's go back inside so you can meet Tony," he said.
       "Okay," I said.
&nbs