Second Semester (#12)

Chapter 01

(Tim's Perspective)
       Kyle woke up Christmas morning with a headache. In the time I had known Kyle, he had never been sick a single day. In fact, he told me he had only missed five days for sickness in the whole time he had been in school. It was five consecutive days when he was in the third grade, and he had had chicken pox.
       "I think you've got a hangover, Babe," I said.
       "I guess I had a lot to drink last night," he said.
       "You had a good bit, Kyle," I said.
       "Did I embarrass you, Babe? I'm so sorry if I did, Tim. Please forgive me," he said.
       "Kyle, you didn't embarrass me one bit. In fact, you didn't even act drunk. I knew you were drunk, but you didn't even slur your words," I said.
       "Tim, I'm not a lush. I don't know what got into me, man. I'm not a drunkard, Tim, so please don't think that I am. I'm not. Okay?"
       I couldn't exactly tell if he was teasing me or not.
       "Kyle, we've been together for almost three years. I know you're not a lush. I know you're not a drunkard. And last night was Christmas Eve. And it was also the rehearsal dinner for our brothers. Don't beat yourself up about this, Babe. Let's get in the shower, and I'll make that headache go away," I said.
       "We know each other pretty good, don't we?" Kyle said.
       "I'd say we do, Kyle," I said.
       "You know me, and you still love me? You still want to be with me?" he asked.
       "Kyle, let me tell you a little secret, okay? I'm never leaving you. In a few years, I expect us to be standing right where those guys will be standing tomorrow, saying the same vows of commitment. And Justin and Brian are going to be at our side, doing the same thing. That's the way it's going to be, Kyle."
       "Tim, if you left me, I would die. I couldn't function. Imagine Jeff losing Clay? They were like us, you know?"
       "I do know. I can't imagine that, Kyle. I refuse to think about it," Tim said. "Let's get in the shower. I want to wash your hair for you and take care of you."
       He took a couple of aspirins from a bottle that was in the bathroom. I knew he wasn't feeling all that bad, but I wanted to treat him like a baby. My baby. I made him sit down on the floor of the shower, and I sat down behind him with my legs straddling him. I pampered him and rubbed him and shampooed his hair. When I was finished doing that, I turned him around and impaled myself on his penis.
       "Oh, Tim. I love you so much," he said directly into my ear. "I could eat you up."
       After a few minutes of gently rocking back and forth, I felt Kyle climax inside me. That usually makes me come, and he usually wants to get out of me right away. I started to get up, but he held me down.
       "Not yet," he said. "Keep rocking," he said, so I did. In another five or six minutes I was as close as I've ever been in my life, but he hadn't pushed me over the edge yet. He put his hand on my penis, though, and that did it for me. He came again at the same instant. That had to rank as one of the truly spectacular orgasms of my life.
       "Was it good, Babe?" he asked.
       "It was unbelievable," I said.
       "For me, too. But get off now, okay?"
       He did the same thing for me that I had done for him, only the second time around we each only came once.
       "Merry Christmas," he said, after we were finished our shower and were getting dressed.
       "That's right. I forgot. Merry Christmas to you, too. Kyle, about what we just did in the shower . . . I don't know that it's ever been any better. Thank you for loving me," I said.
       "I'm the one who's thankful for you," he said. "I definitely got the better half of this bargain."
       We wrapped our arms around each other and kissed long and tenderly.
       "Oh, ain't that sweet, Brian. The two little Christmas love birds."
       It was Justin, of course, and he just barged in because we had forgotten to lock the door. We really don't mind when he and Brian do stuff like that, and we do it to them, too. I think by this point the two couples have seen each other doing just about everything either couple does in bed. Had any of the others done it, it would have been a different story, but with Justin and Brian it really wasn't a problem.
       "Hey. Merry Christmas, guys," Kyle said, and he actually gave each of them a friendly kiss on the lips.
       What the hell, I thought, and I kissed both of them, too. I didn't see any reason not to, and that's certainly how I feel about them.
       "Where's the mistletoe?" Justin asked, looking around for it, to be comical.
       "How you feeling?" Kyle asked him.
       "Tell you the truth, I got me a little headache this morning," Jus said.
       "You want some aspirins? I got some in the bathroom," Kyle said.
       "Yeah. Let me have a couple," he said.
       "Go get 'em. They're on the counter," Kyle said.
       Justin took a couple of aspirins, and the four of us went downstairs. We would be having brunch in the clubhouse later on, but we got cups of coffee and some pastries to tide us over. Craig and Grandpa were in the den, and Grandpa was holding Rob.
       "Where are Grandma and Cherie?" Kyle asked.
       "They went to Mass," Craig said. He wasn't looking too good.
       "Why didn't you go?" Kyle asked him.
       "Because I feel like shit, Kyle. I drank too much last night," Craig said.
       "Did you take some aspirins?"
       "No. I didn't know where they were. Do you have some?"
       "Yeah, there should be a bottle of them in the kitchen. Come on. Let's go," Kyle said.
       He and Craig went out to the kitchen.
       "Merry Christmas, boys," Grandpa said. We wished him Merry Christmas, too.
       "Are all of you feeling okay?"
       Brian and I said we were fine, but Justin kind of moaned. Grandpa grinned at him.
       "You'll learn your limits, Jus," Grandpa said.
       "I dunno. Maybe the Baptists got it right, and you shouldn't drink firewater," Justin said. "It makes you feel good when you're doing it, but the next day . . . Whoa!"
       Grandpa was chuckling at him.
       Craig and Kyle came back into the room, and Kyle got his camera to take pictures of Grandpa and the baby. The baby made a fart, and Kyle giggled at it.
       "Craig," Grandpa said, and sort of reached Rob out to give him to Craig.
       "Shit," Craig said.
       "I'm afraid you're exactly right, Son," Grandpa said, and we all laughed.
       Craig took Rob upstairs to change his diaper, and, of course, Kyle was right behind him with his camera.
       "That's one of the joys of being a grandparent. You can just hand them over to their parents when they're messy," Grandpa said.
       *****
       The rest of the family gradually drifted in, and it got to a point where we decided to go out to the clubhouse so everybody could sit on furniture. The den is big, but it isn't big enough for twenty-some-odd people to sit on furniture. Besides, the playpen for Rob was out there, and they wanted to put him in it.
       We opened gifts, and the big surprise from the grownups was four jet skis for the family. I had ridden on one of those one time in California, and I knew they were fun. I gave Kyle a spear gun for SCUBA diving, and he gave me a new Seiko watch. I had broken my watch about a month before, so that would come in real handy.
       Christmas was kind of upstaged by the wedding the next day, and I had a much better time at that than I thought I would have. The food was excellent, and I danced a good bit, too. Kyle took a lot of pictures, even though they had a professional photographer there doing it, too. After the wedding, we partied some more back at the house, but Kyle and Justin were careful not to drink too much. I don't know how much Sean had to drink, but he didn't act like he was really drunk. It was a busy holiday season, but we had lots of fun.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The day after the wedding we were hanging around the house resting from the incredible pace of the last three days. We had seen my relatives off that morning, and I was sitting quietly, reading a book I had gotten as a Christmas present. Rick was out with the kids checking out the jet skis. My cell phone rang, and I answered it.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hello. Mr. Foley? or Mr. Mashburn?"
       It was a woman's voice that I didn't recognize.
       "It's Kevin Foley," I said.
       Rick never answers my cell phone. I wondered why she thought I might be him.
       "Mr. Foley, this is Cathy Griffin. You don't know me, but you know my mother, Rose Martinez," she said.
       Rose Martinez? Who the hell was that, I wondered. If I knew her, I didn't know her well.
       "She spent Thanksgiving at your house," she said.
       "Oh! Miss Rose! Of course! Is something the matter with her?" I was kind of worried.
       "Oh, she's fine. But thanks for your concern. I believe she told you about my son? Todd?"
       "Yeah. She did. I thought he was going to call me, but he never did. She said he and his dad don't get along," I said.
       "Well, that's sort of an understatement, but, yes, basically," she said. "Todd's fourteen, and he's a freshman in high school. He came out to us as being gay last August, and it's been very stressful at home ever since. They argue constantly. My husband won't let Todd do anything with his friends because he's afraid Todd is going to find a boyfriend or something. I don't really understand it. He refuses to accept the fact that Todd is gay, and he says that he went through the same phase when he was Todd's age. He insists that Todd will get over it, just as he did."
       "I see."
       I said that because I didn't know what else to say, and she had stopped talking, like it was my turn to say something. I wondered just how "over" being gay Mr. Griffin really was.
       "My mother believes that Todd would be very happy in your home. Yesterday, Todd and Larry--Larry's my husband--got into a huge fight, and I thought there was a real possibility of violence. Todd ran out of the house, and he was gone for five hours. I was worried sick, but my husband wasn't. In fact, he and his two brothers went out and shot pool.
       "Mr. Foley, I love my husband very much. I know that in time he'll accept Todd for who he is, or for who he thinks he is, but in the meantime, we need a break. We have two other children younger than Todd, and the constant bickering and fighting and screaming between Larry and Todd have the two little ones scared to death. Todd is very big for his age. He was an early bloomer, and, frankly, in a fistfight between the two of them, my money would be on Todd. I can't have that happen, Mr. Foley. That would destroy our family."
       "Please call me Kevin," I said. "You're in Texas, right?"
       "We live in Houston, but actually we're in Pensacola right now. Larry and I are both from here, and we came here for Christmas because this is where both our families are," she said. "We're staying at my in-laws' house right now."
       "You could be here pretty quick, couldn't you?"
       "Yes. We could," she said.
       "How does Todd feel about living here?" I asked.
       "He asked me to call you," she said.
       "I feel like Todd is family already," I said. "I think Miss Rose had a good time when she was here, and we certainly consider her extended family. Why don't you bring Todd over. We've got plenty of room for him, and there are some other boys living here who'll take him under their wings."
       "My mother loves you and Rick, and she seems especially to love Kyle and Justin. I'm not sure who they are, but she adores them," she said.
       "They're two of our sons. They're both nineteen, and they have a very special fondness for Miss Rose. One of our other sons, Murray Shultz, is the grandson of your mother's roommate. They've taken Murray to Pensacola several times to see his grandmother, and they always take Miss Rose out for a day on the town with them when they do that," I said.
       "I know. How nice of them! At first I couldn't believe that two young men were willing to do that. It's extraordinary," she said.
       "Yeah, I know. They're incredible, but this is a house full of incredible kids," I said.
       "And incredible adults, as well, it sounds like. What's the fee?" she asked.
       "Fee? There's no fee," I said. I thought for a second. "Yes, on second thought, there is a fee, and here's what it is. You and your husband have to help some kid out, when and if you have the opportunity. And Todd's going to have to help some kid out in his lifetime, when and if he has the chance."
       "We can afford to help out financially, too," she said.
       "What do you and your husband do for a living?" I asked.
       "Jerry's a plastic surgeon, and I'm a pediatrician," she said.
       Oh, shit!! I thought. These people are my parents, and this kid is me! Yes! Oh, yes! Bring his ass on!
       "Well, er, . . ."
       "We can afford to help out, Kevin," she said.
       "Cathy, my. . . my parents are both doctors, and my mom's a pediatrician. My dad's a heart surgeon," I said.
       "You know the type, then, don't you?"
       "Yeah. Pretty much," I said. "My dad's not like that, though."
       "Good," she said, but I detected skepticism in her voice.
       I had trouble believing that my dad could ever be arrogant and overbearing, the way some of his friends and colleagues are.
       "The foster boys get $80 a week in allowance. The State of Florida gives us $500 a month for each foster child we have. You can decide from that what you want to send us, but this isn't a money-making scheme for Rick and me," I said.
       "If I thought it was, I wouldn't be talking to you. We're paying eleven hundred dollars a month in tuition for his school. We'll send that to you, instead. Kevin, I have to be truthful with you. I knew your parents are both doctors. My mother met them, remember? Besides, the name Edward Foley isn't exactly unknown in medical circles in this part of the country. When I told my husband I was calling you and that you are Edward Foley's son, he approved," she said. "Is it a 'go?'" she asked.
       "Absolutely. We'd love to have Todd here, for as long or as short as he needs to be here," I said.
       "Thank you, Kevin. We're in Destin, and we'll be there in about a half hour. Now, where exactly do you live?"
       Whoa! I thought. Give me some advance warning, why don't you?
       "I thought you were in Pensacola," I said.
       "Well, I took a chance," she said. "On my mother's advice."
       I gave her directions to our house. We said our goodbyes.
       Rick was out with the boys playing with the new jet skis. I ran outside to tell him what had just transpired.
       "Hey, Babe. What's up?" he asked when I got to him.
       "Walk over here with me, would you?" We walked away from the kids to talk in private.
       "What's the matter?" He was in a full-body wet suit, and he actually looked very sexy in that thing.
       "Do you remember me telling you about my conversation with Miss Rose about her grandson at Thanksgiving?"
       "Vaguely, but I do remember," he said.
       "Well, he's going to be here in thirty minutes or so," I said.
       "What?" he asked. He was a little surprised, as I had been.
       I told him about my conversation with Cathy Griffin.
       "We need to get the boys out of the water," he said. "By the way, these jet skis are awesome. Justin and Kyle have been playing 'chicken,'" he said. "Look."
       I looked out on the lagoon to see my two oldest sons going into a head-on collision. Justin turned away in the nick of time.
       "Fuck you," Justin screamed at Kyle.
       "Only in your dreams," Kyle screamed back.
       "No. Unh-unh. They can't do that. We can't have that, Rick," I said. "We have to talk to them about that."
       He started laughing.
       "They're not going to crash. They're not stupid, Babe. That one was close, but most of the time they both turn off way before they're going to crash," he said. "They're high-spirited boys, Babe."
       "I don't give a shit how high-spirited they are. They're not doing that. Were you doing that, too?" I asked.
       "Yeah, I was, Kevin, and it's perfectly safe. It's an incredible rush, too," he said.
       "No. Nobody's doing it ever again. I refuse to be worried to death about you or about them when y'all are out here on these things. Rick, this is a bottom-line issue with me, and I mean it," I said.
       "Okay. I hear you. No more 'chicken.' Let me call them in so they can meet their new brother. What's his name, anyway?"
       "Todd. Todd Griffin," I said.
       Rick whistled them in, and they came in right away. I could tell Kyle and Justin both had erections in their wetsuits, and Sean had one, too. Brian was also in a wet suit, but he didn't have an erection.
       "What's up?" Kyle asked when he got on the dock.
       The boys formed a semi-circle around Rick and me. Murray looked so trim and so good that it was absolutely amazing. He and Denny were just in Speedos, and they looked a little blue from the temperature. Their teeth were chattering, in fact. It was about sixty degrees Fahrenheit, but that really isn't warm, especially if you are wet. Tim had on a beach coat, so he didn't look as cold as Denny and Murray did.
       "All right. First of all, no more of this 'chicken' shit. We cannot have that in this house," I said.
       "No more chickenshit? That's it for you, Kyle. Been nice to know you, Bubba. No more chickenshit in the house, though," Justin said.
       All of them laughed, and I knew I had set that up wrong.
       "I'm serious," I said. "No more playing 'chicken' on the jet skis. And Rick and I mean that. No more. That's way too dangerous."
       They were waiting for Rick to say something, and so was I.
       "He's right. It's dangerous," Rick finally said. "No more. I know I did it, but I'm not ever doing it again, and y'all aren't either. That's final."
       Kyle and Justin looked at each other like they were no more going to obey that order than fly. I know both of them have a conscience, though, and I was fully prepared to use every manipulative trick that I had learned in Catholic school to put a guilt trip on them to keep them from doing that. That "chicken" game scares me to death.
       "What about drag racing? I got ole 'Greased Lightning' there, and I'm ready to go," Kyle said.
       "Racing is fine, just no 'chicken' racing," I said. "This 'chicken' stuff almost made me forget why I came out here. Y'all are getting a new brother in about . . . " I looked at my watch. "ten minutes. Get some clothes on and come inside. Everybody."
       "We need showers," Rick said.
       "Where are your clothes?" I asked him.
       "In the locker room, same as them," he said.
       "Hurry up," I said, "and get them to hurry up, too," I said.
       "Babe, did you expect a new boy for Christmas?" Rick said.
       "No, but I guess he's our New Year's Baby. He's only fourteen. I hope this isn't another Sean," I said.
       "Me, too, but Sean seems to be doing so well," Rick said.
       "Go get your shower. Now," I snapped.
       "Are you pissed off at me, Kevin?" Rick asked.
       "I'm a little rattled right now. Seeing them playing 'chicken' scared me to death, and we've got this new kid showing up virtually unannounced. I'm sorry I was short with you," I said.
       "And I'm sorry I didn't use better judgment about the game. Will you forgive me?" Rick asked.
       He knows I can never stay angry at him for very long.
       "Only if you'll forgive me," I said.
       "Then it's a done deal," he said, and he gave me a sweet kiss, one I was only too happy to return.

(Rick's Perspective)
       When I went into that shower room, it was like going into that pool of seals at the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans. They were slipping and sliding everywhere. One would go down on the floor, and two more would jump on him. They were having fun, and I was tempted to get into it with them. But the new boy was going to be here in a few minutes, and I knew we all had to be in the house when he got here.
       I learned to whistle through two fingers when I was a little kid. I know Kyle can do it, too, and he has used it more than once to get everyone's attention. I used it then.
       "Everybody shut up," I said.
       Justin and Kyle were still laughing and poking each other.
       "I said, shut the fuck up!"
       They got quiet.
       "You've basically got five minutes to get finished in here and to get into that house to meet your new brother. No talking whatsoever. Let's go," I said.
       I don't know how well they washed themselves, but they were out of there in about two minutes. There are only four shower heads, so they couldn't have washed very well, considering there were eight of us in there. Not one of them said a word, though. In five minutes they were all in the den.
       "So where the hell is he?" Kyle asked.
       "He probably stopped to jerk off," Justin said.
       "I know I would," Kyle said.
       They all laughed at their foolishness.
       "Are all gay guys as funny as these two?" Sean asked.
       "It depends on how you define 'funny,'" Justin said. Then he grabbed Sean in a headlock-hug.
       We all laughed. Everybody was in a great mood, but I felt bad about letting the kids play 'chicken.' I should have known that would scare Kevin.
       "What kind of refreshments do we have in the house?" I asked.
       "We've got a ton of stuff from the wedding," Kyle said. "You want me to make something up? Some trays?"
       "Yeah. Just a couple. One sweet and one non-sweet," I said.
       "Gotcha. Come help me, Tim," Kyle said.
       Kyle no more needed Tim's help than the man in the moon, but Kyle never wants to do anything by himself. If he had had to make those trays alone, it would have been at least ten or fifteen minutes that he was without human company. That much time alone is unacceptable to Kyle. He brought those trays out seconds before the new boy and his mother rang the doorbell.
       Kevin and I answered the door together. When we opened the door, I wasn't expecting anything like what I saw. Todd was a good six feet tall, blond hair and beautiful dark blue eyes. He had shoulders about three feet across, and his face should have been on the cover of XY Magazine. His body was a perfect inverted pyramid, and his waist couldn't have been more than about twenty-eight inches. I thought he was a god off Mt. Olympus.
       "Hi. You must be Cathy, and you must be Todd," Kevin said. "This is Rick Mashburn, my partner, and I'm Kevin Foley."
       We all shook hands.
       "Come on in. Your new brothers are in here waiting for you, Todd," Kevin said.
       "Thanks," Todd said. "This is a nice place. Thanks for having me."
       I could not believe that kid was fourteen years old. No way. That boy was self-confident and very poised. Kyle was like that when we met him, but Kyle had been sixteen, not fourteen. I wondered if Kyle had been like that at fourteen.
       Todd met the boys, and it took about thirty seconds for them to warm up to him. He was very masculine and attractive. It was like he had been there for months.
       "Come and see the clubhouse, and all the other stuff we got here," Kyle said.
       They dragged him outside, him petting the dogs all the while. I knew that boy was going to fit in. That one was an alpha male in the making, and I knew it instinctively.
       "Well, he seems to have hit it off well initially with the other boys," Cathy said.
       "Yeah. We've got some incredible kids here, Cathy. Todd is going to do just fine. Just looking at him, I figure he doesn't have any problems fitting in at school," Kevin said.
       "Well, yes and no," she said. "He's bigger, and he looks older, than other freshmen, so he didn't have many friends in his class. But he had friends. Juniors and seniors, mostly. My husband just wouldn't let him do anything with them."
       "He's got seven boys here who are already his friends," I said. "This is truly a remarkable group of guys."
       "I can see that," Cathy said. "Thank you so much."
       "Cathy, the way we look at it is every new boy is a gift to our family. We might be a little bit different from the family he came from, but we're a real family."
       "I know," Cathy said. "My mother has been lobbying for Todd to come here since Thanksgiving. It's difficult, though, you know," she said, and she teared up a little.
       "Think of it as Todd going to boarding school," Kevin said.
       "I know. I have thought of that," she said. "In fact, I have thought of actually sending him to boarding school. This will be better, though, I think."
       "We're going to need some documents," Kevin said. "Like his birth certificate and power of attorney so we can act in loco parentis."
       "Yes. I have a power of attorney document right here," she said, opening her purse. "My brother-in-law drew it up for us this morning, and my husband and I both signed it. My brother-in-law is a lawyer, so it should be good."
       She handed it to me, and I scanned it. It looked just like the one we have for Sean. I gave it to Kevin, and he looked at it, too.
       "I can fax his birth certificate to you as soon as we get home," she said. "I guess you'll need his school records, too."
       "The school can request those. How are his grades?" Kevin asked.
       "He does well in school. Todd is a good kid, guys. The conflict with his father is pretty much all my husband's making. Todd has a touch of the normal adolescent rebelliousness, but it's not severe at all. He'll do just fine," she said.
       The kids came back inside, and Todd appeared to be quite excited.
       "Mom, you should see this place. They have a boat and four jet skis, and there's a pool table in the clubhouse. And they even have a weight room," Todd said.
       "Good," Cathy said. "It sounds like just the ticket for you."
       "Yeah, and you know what the best thing is? Every one of these guys is gay. Just like me," he said.
       "I know, Son. Grammy told me," Cathy said.
       "Can I offer anybody coffee or a coke or anything?" Kyle asked.
       "I'll have a coke," Justin said.
       "Get it yourself. I meant the company, not you," Kyle said.
       "No, thank you," Cathy said. "In fact, I really need to get back on the road."
       "You've got all of our phone numbers, right?" Kevin asked, as we were showing Cathy out.
       "Yes," she said.
       "Todd will have a cell phone of his own in a few days," I said. "Make sure your mother knows your number, when you get it," I said to Todd.
       "Okay," he said.
       Cathy and Todd walked out to her car. Kevin and I shut the front door to give them some privacy, and we went back into the den with the other guys.
       "Whoa! That boy's a stud. He said he's only fourteen years old," Justin said.
       "He's taller than I am," Brian said.
       "Do you fellows like him?" Kevin asked.
       "He seems real nice," Tim said. "He's going to fit right in."
       "Good. Thanks for opening your hearts, guys. I know it isn't easy having a steady stream of new boys in the house, but you know Rick and I love all of you. And we're going to love this boy, too," Kevin said.
       "I'm already in love with him," Sean said.
       We all laughed, but I wondered if Todd would become the object of someone's affections.

(Todd's Perspective)
       My mom and I both cried when we said goodbye in their driveway, but she and I both knew my moving away for a while was the best thing that could happen. I know my dad is a smart man, and all, but he absolutely will not accept the fact that I'm gay. At first he wanted me to see a psychologist, but he couldn't find anybody that he considered qualified who was willing to try to convert me to being straight. So his way of dealing with my situation was to basically put me under house arrest. Other than going to school, I could do absolutely nothing, not even Youth Group at church.
       I have known I'm gay since I was ten years old. That's when puberty started, and that's when I had my first crush on a guy. He was my best friend, and I was totally in love with him. I wanted to spend every minute with him. We never did anything sexual, and I wasn't even sure back then what "sexual" meant. He moved when I was eleven, though, and we lost track of each other.
       I decided to come out to my parents last summer. I was getting ready to go to high school, and I figured I would probably meet guys that I wanted to date. I had never had any idea that either one of my parents might be homophobic, and, in some ways, I really don't think they are. At least, not in general. My dad just doesn't want me to be gay, but that isn't something I have any control over. My dad harped on the fact that he had gone through the same kind of phase when he was my age. Well, maybe he did, but I didn't think it was a phase, in my case.
       My dad and I argued a lot about his "phase theory." One time I even asked him how he knew it had been just a phase for him. I mean, I had read about gay guys who got married and had kids and all. He got so mad when I said that, I thought he was going to punch me. I never went there again.
       "Todd, let us show you where your room is," Kevin said. We had been eating snacks from a couple of platters they had out.
       "Okay," I said.
       I got my suitcase. My mom was going to send the rest of my clothes and stuff when they got home.
       "This is a really big house," I said.
       "Yeah, but there are quite a few people living here. You're number ten," Kevin said.
       He and Rick took me to my bedroom on the third floor. What was really cool about it was I had my own bathroom. It didn't have a tub in it, but it had a humongous shower, and it even had a urinal. Wow! I had never seen a urinal in a house before, but I knew that was going to be convenient when I woke up hard and had to pee.
       "We'll leave you to put away your clothes," Rick said. "You might want some quiet time, too."
       "Yeah. I'd appreciate that," I said.
       "Okay, Bubba. We'll be downstairs," Kevin said. "Holler if you can't find what you need."
       "Thank you for taking me in," I said.
       "We're glad to do it," Rick said. "See you later."
       "Okay."
       It didn't take me long to put my clothes away, and I put my toilet kit away in the bathroom, too. I didn't take my clothes off, but I stretched out on the bed to think about what was happening. I was only lying there about five minutes when there was a knock on the door.
       "Come in," I said, sitting up.
       "Hi, Todd. Are you busy?"
       "No. Come on in," I said. He was a really good-looking kid.
       "Do you remember my name? Sean?"
       "Sorry. I haven't learned all the names yet," I said.
       "It'll take you a few days to get to know us and all about us," he said. "I just came here in early September, so I remember how it was."
       "Cool. Are you from around here?" I asked.
       "No. I'm from Virginia," he said.
       "Do you remember Rose Martinez? She was here for Thanksgiving."
       "Miss Rose? Yeah, I remember her, and Miss Sarah, too."
       "Miss Rose, as you call her, is my grandmother. I don't call her that, though. I call her Grammy. Anyway, she told me about this place because I was having a lot of problems with my dad. We all thought it might be a good idea for me to come here for awhile so maybe he can get used to the idea that I'm gay," I said.
       "He doesn't like gay people, I take it," he said.
       "I don't think he cares if other people are gay. He just refuses to accept the fact that I am," I said.
       "He sounds like both of my parents. I was dating an older guy, and they got a restraining order to keep him away from me," he said. "When I found out about this place on the Internet, I ran away from home to come here."
       "Do your parents know where you are?" I asked.
       "Oh, yeah. They had to give their permission for me to stay here. I talked to them on the phone Christmas day," he said.
       "They said I was going to get a cell phone. Do you have one?"
       "We all do, and they expect us to use them to let them know where we are," he said.
       "Is it really strict here?" I asked.
       "Not really. The pets help Kevin and Rick keep us in line," he said.
       "They use the dogs on the kids?" That was a little scary to me, but he laughed hard.
       "Not the dogs. The four pets I'm talking about are Kyle, Tim, Justin, and Brian," he said.
       "Why do you call them the pets?" I asked.
       "Kevin and Rick treat everybody the same, more or less, but I can tell they love those boys a little more than they do the rest of us. That's all I meant by that," he said.
       "Are those four guys nice?" I asked.
       "They're very nice. I used to think Justin and Brian didn't like me, but I don't think that anymore. I think they like me now," he said.
       "Why did that change?" I asked.
       "Basically because I cleaned up my act," he said. "I was doing a lot of stupid shit, and it got me into trouble when we were on a trip. I'm seeing a counselor now, and I'm taking medicine, too. I'm much better. I feel a lot better, and I'm much nicer than I used to be."
       "I know everybody here is gay. Do any of the kids have, like, boyfriends?" I asked.
       "Kyle and Tim are boyfriends, and so are Justin and Brian. I have a boyfriend named Scott Michaels, and Denny is dating a guy named John something. I can't remember John's last name, though. You'll be going to Beachside High School, and it's a pretty cool school. Kyle's in college now, but when he was a senior, he was president of the Student Government Association, and he was out to everybody before he was elected. That was before I got here, though."
       "That's cool that they elected a gay guy," I said. "So I guess it's not really homophobic there."
       "Oh, it has its share of assholes, don't think it doesn't," he said, "but, for the most part, they don't mess with the out kids. It's kind of like the way it works here. The atmosphere is such that it would be way uncool to be homophobic, just like it would be way uncool to break rules around here."
       "What are the rules?"
       "Basically, no sex in public, or talking about sex in public, and no forced sex."
       "That's it? Those are the only rules?" That sounded too good to be true.
       "Those are the main ones, or, really, just the ones about sex. You can also talk about sex in public, just not what you and your partner do in private. And, really, we tease one another about sex a lot. It's just that Kevin and Rick don't want to know the details of our sex lives, I guess you could say," he said.
       "I've never had sex," I said.
       "You're not the only one," I said. "Murray hasn't had sex yet, either. I assume Denny and his boy have sex, but he's never said, and I've never asked."
       "I wouldn't mind having sex," I said.
       "With me?" he replied, somewhat surprised or shocked or something.
       "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant in general," I said. "The idea of anal sex doesn't interest me, though."
       "I'm dying to try it, but my boyfriend won't let me," he said.
       "Try what? Anal sex?"
       "Yeah. I'd like to fuck him," he said.
       "Would you let him, uh, like, uh, fuck you?" I asked. That was the first time I had ever said the F-word aloud.
       "Hell, no," he said. "That's probably why he won't let me fuck him. I guess fucking is a two-way street."
       There was a knock on the door.
       "Come in," I said.
       "Hi, guys. What are y'all doing? Todd, I'm Kyle and this is Tim, just in case you didn't remember," he said.
       "We're just talking," Sean said.
       "You're not putting the make on him already, are you?" Kyle asked.
       "I told you the other day that I don't do that anymore," Sean said. "The only person I'm having sex with now is Scott. Don't you remember?"
       "I remember. I'm just pulling your dick a little bit," Kyle said.
       "What were you guys talking about?" Tim asked.
       "Sex," Sean said.
       "I figured that," Kyle said. He had sort of a strange way of talking sometimes. Kind of gruff, almost. "Todd, if you have questions about sex, don't be afraid to ask, you hear? We don't know much about pussy, but we know a lot about dick. No question is too dumb, either. Kevin and Rick won't ever bring it up, usually, but we've had some great talks about sex. And about being gay, too."
       "Okay. Just so you'll know, I'm a virgin," I said. I wanted to get that out in the open.
       "That's cool. I used to be one, too," Kyle said. "Y'all probably didn't cover this with all the sex talk, but we tease each other a good bit around here. But it's all in fun. We try never to hurt anybody's feelings with teasing. You're the masculine type, but if you weren't, like ole Murray, we wouldn't tease you about that, either. If there's something you don't want to be teased about, say so. By the way, it's okay to smoke cigarettes in the house, but that's all. No drugs." He looked at Sean when he said that.
       "I'm clean now, Bubba. It's been over a month since I smoked weed," Sean said.
       Wow! I thought. He's a toughie. He's cute, though, and he seems pretty smart, too.
       "We came up to see if y'all want to shoot some pool," Kyle said.
       "Sure," I said. And that's how we spent the afternoon and evening.

Chapter 02

(Kyle's Perspective)
       It took a few weeks, but I finally closed on my rental property right after Christmas. I ended up buying three three-bedroom condos in a high rise and two houses. Both of the houses are old, and one of them needs to be painted, inside and out. Thanks to Mr. Cliff, Mr. Emery, and Mr. Dan, my little rental empire is underway. Now I just have to hope and pray the damn things will rent.
       Tim and I really like Todd, the new boy. He is very handsome, but mostly he's just plain nice. He's also a very good athlete.
       "Are you going to play sports for school?" Tim asked him a couple of days after he got there.
       "I'd like to play baseball," he said. "Is there a freshman team?"
       "Only in football," Tim said. "It's just JV and varsity in the other sports. I tried out for JV when I was a freshman, but I didn't make it."
       "Did you try out again as a sophomore?" Todd asked.
       "No. I started working the summer after my freshman year, and I didn't play summer ball. Kyle and I worked together as the pool boy and the beach boy at a motel," Tim said.
       "Is that how y'all met?" he asked.
       "No. We had started dating in January. In about two weeks, it's going to be three years for us. Did you realize that, Babe?" I said.
       "You guys have been dating for three years?" Todd asked. He sounded a little surprised.
       "Well, I don't call the way we are now dating. We figure this is it for us. We live together. We're a couple, man," I said.
       "That's amazing. You guys are high school sweethearts," he said.
       "Exactly. You don't know that you won't find you a young boy that you'll fall head over heels in love with when school starts back. There's a lot of fish in that big, gay sea out there. Sort of like rainbow trout, you know?"
       He and Tim laughed.
       "Kyle, you said I could ask questions about sex," Todd said.
       "Sure. What's on your mind?" I asked.
       "How long do most guys date before they have sex?" Todd asked.
       "That's a very good question, but I don't think there's a single answer for it. I can tell you about us. It was about two months. Ain't that right, Babe?"
       Tim nodded.
       "But I know some guys think dating and having sex are the same thing. I mean, first time out, there they both come," I said. "It depends on what you're comfortable with."
       "Do you guys have anal sex?" he asked.
       "Yeah, now we do, but it was a long time before we started doing that. Anal sex is a big hang-up for a lot of guys, Todd. We don't do it like that every time, by any means. But it doesn't hurt us anymore. In fact, it never did hurt all that much. Maybe the first couple or three times, and then only at the start of it," I said.
       "Do you guys use condoms?" he asked.
       "No, we don't, and here's why. Neither one of us has ever had anal sex or oral sex with another guy. So, we practice safe sex, but we do it through total monogamy. Justin and Brian do use condoms, even though Justin's been tested for HIV five times, and he turns up negative every time. But Justin's had unprotected sex. It was a few years ago, but he doesn't want to take any chances. That's good sense, to me. A young boy like you starting out, and the two of you both virgins, you don't need a condom. But if you don't know he's a virgin 100% positive, y'all wrap 'em up," I said.
       "Justin told me one time that he plans to get tested for HIV every six months for ten years," Tim said.
       "Are they a monogamous couple?" Todd asked.
       "Oh, yeah. So are Kevin and Rick. I don't want to go into too much of Justin's background, but he was severely sexually abused for about three years. Until we found him that summer we worked at the motel. That was two and a half years ago. That's how long the three of us have been friends. Brian came at the end of October that fall, and he and Justin became a couple around my birthday, wasn't it?" I said.
       "Yeah. They just had their two-year. Don't you remember they had that big deal about who was going to take out who?" Tim asked.
       "Yeah, I remember that now," I said.
       "So who took out who?" Todd asked.
       "They couldn't ever decide, so they did it Dutch treat. Tim and I went with them. You have to know something about the four of us. We're tight. Best friends all around. We love those boys, and they love us, too," I said.
       "It's pretty obvious you guys are very close friends," Todd said. "I know a lot of people, but I don't know if they're real friends. I went to public school until this school year, and all the people I knew there have sort of vanished from my life. My dad didn't let me do anything with friends after I came out last August, so I wasn't able to have any real friendships with the kids at the private school I went to this last semester"
       "Do you have any brothers and sisters?" I asked.
       "Two sisters, ages eleven and eight. Not much companionship there. I mean, we get along okay and all, but they're girls, you know? They're not interested in doing what I'm interested in doing. They know I'm gay and all, if they even know what that means. How could they not know it? My dad and I have had so many arguments about it," Todd said.
       "Is your mom okay with you being gay? She seemed to be," Tim asked.
       "She's wonderful, and so is my grammy. It's just him," he said.
       "Around here, if you say you're gay, you're gay. Can't nobody know that but you. It's the same with our gay friends, too," I said.
       "Do you have a lot of gay friends?" he asked.
       "Quite a few," I said. "There are four next door, for instance. And the Townhouse Boys, of course, plus a lot more."
       "Who are the Townhouse Boys?" he asked.
       "They're your four older brothers. They just got married December 26th. They're on their honeymoon right now," I said.
       "Really? They got married?" he asked.
       "Well, not legally. You can't do that here. It was a commitment ceremony, really. Two couples. Not all four of them together. We consider that marriage, though. We had it at a hotel, and our priest said the ceremony," I said.
       "Are you guys Episcopalians? That's what I am, too," he said.
       "We're Catholics. Well, most of us, anyway. Kevin, Rick, Kyle, Brian and I. Justin's taking instructions to become one right now. Sean's an agnostic, Murray's a Jew, and I don't know what Denny is. Maybe nothing. I just don't know. They all go to Mass with us, though, only the ones who aren't Catholic don't receive communion," Tim said.
       "Our parish in Houston is very High Church," Todd said.
       "What does that mean?" I asked.
       "Among Episcopalians, if you're High Church, that means the services and beliefs are very similar to Catholics. Low Church is more similar to Protestants, like the Methodists," he said.
       "Before I became a Catholic, I was a Presbyterian. My daddy says wine might be a sacrament in the Catholic Church, but the Presbyterians are the only ones that have a whiskey drink named after them," I said. "He orders 'em, too. Doesn't he, Tim? It's not a bad drink, either."
       My cell rang just then.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hey. What are you doing?"
       "Tim's sucking my cock. Make it quick," I said.
       Ole Todd's eyes got as big around as dinner plates when he heard me say that.
       "For real?"
       "No, not for real, asshole. Although that ain't a bad idea," I said.
       "That must be Philip," Tim said.
       "Yeah, it is," I said.
       "What?" Philip asked.
       "Tim just said 'That must be Philip,' and I said, 'Yeah, it is.' So when are you and Ryan getting your sorry asses over here, huh? I figured y'all had family stuff before now. We damn sure did," I said.
       "I was just calling to see if you were home. We're coming right now. I'll see your ugly face in ten minutes," he said.
       "Oh, so you heard about the disfiguring scars I got in the accident?" I said.
       "What? What the fuck are you talking about?"
       "They kept it out of the paper and off the TV, so it's no wonder your daddy didn't tell you about it. He doesn't know," I said.
       "We're on our way. Bye," he said.
       "Bye."
       Tim and Todd were both laughing hard.
       "Who was that?" Todd asked.
       "That's an ole boy I've been best friends with all my life. Turns out he's gay, too. His partner is Ryan Pettis, another boy I've been friends with since forever. The three of us wasted a lot of our youth being scared to tell each other we were gay," I said.
       Tim explained Got You Last to Todd.
       "You're a rat, Kyle. I mean, seriously," Todd said, but he was laughing.
       "He said he'd see my ugly face in ten minutes. I couldn't resist," I said.
       "Isn't he going to be mad at you?" Todd asked.
       "Maybe, maybe not. If he is mad, it wouldn't be the first time, that's for sure," I said.
       I learned that day that Philip Andrews, my best friend for all these years, is nothing but a miserable shithead asshole. We were in the clubhouse, and I was in a chair with my back to the door. He and Ryan snuck in with a goddamn paper bag from the grocery store. Tim and Todd had to have cooperated on this. That's the only way I figure it could have happened. Philip got up behind me and dropped that paper bag over my head.
       "I can't see the scars," he said real loud.
       Scared the fucking shit out of me! I didn't know what the fuck had happened.
       "Goddamn it, Philip!" I screamed.
       He and Ryan and Tim and Todd were laughing so hard I thought they were going to piss their pants.
       "Got ya last," Philip said, laughing and grinning his fool face off, after I ripped that damn bag off my head. He started tickling me.
       "Get off me, Andrews. You fag. Cut it out," I screamed.
       "You tried to set me up for Got You Last, didn't you? I knew there hadn't been any fucking accident, you dumb shit. You saw my daddy yesterday, Kyle. Remember? You had to sign some papers? I swear to God, Kyle. You take the fucking cake," Philip said.
       "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," I said.
       "At least give me a hug, you dumb fuck," Philip said, and we hugged big time. I hugged Ryan, too, and they both hugged Tim.
       "So who's this?" Philip asked, meaning Todd. "Aren't you going to introduce us? Huh? Is this what you're thinking with right now." He pulled on my dick when he said that.
       "Give me time, Philip. First you scare me nearly to death. I mean, I'm surprised I ain't dead on this floor right now. Then you start molesting me. And then . . . "
       I couldn't even get it all out, I was laughing so hard.
       "Tim, I feel sorry for you. To be linked up with this one? Bless your heart, Bubba," Philip said.
       "I know. We never have any fun," Tim said.
       "Anyway, Philip and Ryan, this is our new brother, Todd . . . what?"
       "Todd Griffin," Todd said.
       "Pleased to meet you, Todd. Son, you have come into the Slough of Despond. This fucker don't even know your name. You call me when you need help, okay? I can tame this beast," Philip said.
       "Is it like this all the time?" Todd asked.
       "Yeah. Pretty much, with these two," Ryan said.
       "Have you checked the family Web site lately? I just put up some pictures of you diving. Have you seen 'em?" I asked.
       "Kyle, I've been so damn busy, I haven't taken a shit in three days," Philip said.
       "I believe you. I can smell it from here," I said.
       Ole Todd was laughing his ass off. I guess he came from a pretty up-tight family where there wasn't a lot of laughter.
       "Would y'all like something to drink? A coke or a beer? Whiskey?" I asked.
       "I'll have a beer," Philip said.
       "Me, too," Ryan said.
       "What about you, Todd? A beer? I know you want a coke," I said to Tim.
       "I've never had a beer," Todd said.
       "Have you ever tasted beer?" I asked.
       "I've tasted wine at church, but I've never tasted any other alcohol," Todd said.
       "You ought to taste a beer," I said. "Even if you don't finish it. It's a cultural thing," I said.
       "Okay," he said. "I'll have a beer, too."
       Philip walked into the kitchen with me to get the drinks.
       "What's up with him? He's never even tasted beer?" Philip asked.
       "He's only fourteen," I said. "I know you and I had drunk plenty of beer by the time we were fourteen, but this boy's been sheltered. His daddy wouldn't let him go out with his friends."
       "He's only fourteen? Jesus, I thought he was our age," Philip said. "I wish I had looked that good and that old at fourteen."
       "You don't look that good or that old now," I said.
       "I knew you were going to say that, Kyle," Philip said. "You'd have ruined my day, if you hadn't."
       I laughed.
       "Did y'all have a good Christmas?" I asked.
       "It was all right. One of the things you're going to find out when you and Tim move away from here is when you come home you got to split your time. That's why we weren't over here any sooner. You got your grandmas, your grandpas, your aunts, your uncles. Man, that's a lot of people you got to spend time with. And it's on two sides, too. They about wore my ass out," he said.
       Philip lit up a cigarette, and he offered me his pack.
       "Thanks, but I don't really use 'em that much anymore," I said.
       "I never did think of you as a regular smoker," he said.
       "I used to be. I smoked every day," I said.
       "Yeah, two or three," he said.
       "How much do you smoke?" I asked.
       "I'm up to about a half a pack a day now. Ryan, too," he said.
       "That still ain't that much, you know," I said.
       "I know, and that's where I want to keep it, too. I think my daddy smokes about two packs a day," he said.
       "That's a lot. That's an expensive habit, too," I said.
       "You telling me? I paid five bucks for a pack of cigarettes the other night," he said. "Of course, it was at a club, and they kind of had me held hostage, as far as cigarettes were concerned."
       "I'd rather smoke other things," I said.
       "Are you smoking weed, Kyle?"
       "I haven't done that shit since that night you and I swore off. Have you broken your word on that, Philip?"
       "No, sir, I have not. Have you?"
       "No. I just told you that," I said.
       "Kyle, you said you'd rather smoke other things? What the hell you been smoking? Crack?"
       "I was talking about smoking dick, asshole," I said.
       "You shithead. I hate you, Kyle," Philip said.
       "I hear those exact words from Justin Davis five, six times a day," I said.
       "Where is that stud, anyway? Why ain't he here?"
       "I think he and Brian took the dogs out to the woods. They're probably hunting. My daddy got a lease this year, and we've been hunting some," I said.
       "Deer or bird?"
       "Bird. Those are bird dogs," I said.
       "Kyle, you couldn't pick up the fucking phone and call your oldest friend in the whole fucking world and say, 'Hey, Philip. We're going huntin' on my daddy's lease. You want to go?' Huh?"
       "If I called you once, I called you ten times about that, Philip. Do you ever listen to your fucking messages? Huh?"
       "No. Don't get mad, dude," he said.
       "Me get mad? You're the one screaming down my neck, man. Do you read your email?"
       "No," he said.
       "The only things I know to do is to call you and to send you email. If you don't check your messages and you don't read your email, how are we supposed to communicate? Huh?" I was mad a little bit.
       "You could send me snail mail," he said.
       "Do you even know where your snail mailbox is?"
       "No, but Ryan does. He'd get it for me," Philip said.
       "Philip, you know what?"
       "What?" he asked.
       "You are pathetic. But you know what else?"
       "What?" he asked again.
       "You're still my best friend, and I still love you. And I always will," I said.
       I grabbed him up in a big hug. I started getting hard, and so did he, but we didn't have a sexual thing between us.
       "What the hell's going on in here?" Ryan demanded. He, Tim, and Todd were at the door of the kitchen.
       "It's just two old friends who love each other dearly getting reacquainted," Philip said.
       "Reacquainted, my ass. We heard every word y'all said. Or screamed, more like it. Come on. I'm parched. I need a beer to quench my thirst," Ryan said.

(Todd's Perspective)
       I had never been around guys like Kyle and Philip. Before I came here, I had no gay friends whatsoever, at least that I knew of, and being around those guys was a total eye-opener for me. First of all, they were incredibly funny. That business with the paper bag was hilarious. But they just seemed so normal. The thing that had scared me the most about being gay was that I thought I wasn't going to be a normal guy, who liked normal "guy" things. But those guys are normal, everyday guys who just happen to be gay.
       "Who wants to shoot pool?" Philip asked.
       "I do," Kyle said.
       "I don't," Tim said. "I'm going to read and maybe have a little nap. Have fun with your friends, Babe."
       They kissed, and that was so awesome to me. I had never seen two guys kiss before. Wow!
       "If we go out later to eat, do you want to go?" Kyle asked him.
       "Why don't you rustle up some leftovers for us later?" he said. "There's a ton of food, isn't there?"
       "Okay, I will. That's a good idea," Kyle said. "I'll get you up, if you're asleep."
       "Okay," Tim said. He yawned, and then he left.
       "Strip pool. Same rules," Kyle said. "Count what you got on. I'm wearing underwear, jeans, tee shirt, and two shoes, so five pieces for me. Except you can keep your shoes. You need those for traction."
       "I got the same," Philip said
       "The same here, too, except I've got on socks," Ryan said.
       "Take 'em off. What about you?" Kyle asked me.
       "The same, except I've got on a tee shirt and this top shirt. And socks, too.
       "Take off the socks and the top shirt. Everybody starts even. If you scratch, you strip, one piece of clothes at a time," Kyle said. "Eight Ball, deuces wild."
       "What the hell does that mean?" Ryan asked.
       "It doesn't mean anything. That's just some of his bullshit," Philip said. "We're playing Eight Ball."
       "Are we going to lag for break?" Ryan asked.
       I wasn't sure what that meant. In fact, I had never heard that before.
       "No. We're going to break by age. You're the oldest, Philip. You're a month older than me," Kyle said. "I'm second. Ryan, you're third, and, Todd, you're last."
       We shot pool, and those boys were intense. They were good, too. I knew I was out of my league. But it didn't matter if you won or lost when it came to losing clothes. It was just if you scratched. They all got a second beer, but I didn't really like the way mine tasted, so I got a coke on the second round.
       Philip scratched first, and he took off his shirt.
       "Whoa. Look at that stuff. Does that make you hard, Todd?" Kyle said.
       I was laughing too hard to reply.
       "Nobody gets hard looking at somebody's chest, dumbass," Philip said.
       "Oh, yeah? Tell that to the straight boys looking at the girls," Kyle said. "Hell, I got half hard right before Thanksgiving when we were playing strip pool with some girls."
       "I forgot about the straight boys looking at girls' tits. But they wouldn't get hard looking at this chest," he said, rubbing his belly.
       Maybe the straight boys wouldn't, but the gay boys would. In fact, I was, watching him do that. He had a tattoo on the top of his arm, and I thought that was really hot.
       "Who's next? Take your shot," Kyle said. "I think that's you, Todd. Take your shot."
       I took my shot, and I scratched, too. I had to take my shirt off.
       Kyle was the big loser that afternoon. At the beginning of the third game, before anybody had sunk a ball, Kyle scratched. He had to take off his bikini briefs. He had a little tattoo of a monkey right about his briefs, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of it.
       "I don't care. Philip and Ryan, y'all have seen it all a thousand times before, and you've touched it a few times, too. Do I need to name and point out the parts to you?"
       "No, Kyle. You're right. We have seen all of that a million times before, and it's the same as everybody else's," Philip said. "Let me take my shot."
       "Wait a minute. Let's put some money on this game, Philip. How about twenty bucks? If I win, you pay me twenty. If you win, I pay you twenty. If one of these guys wins, the bet's off," Kyle said.
       "You're on, Kyle," Philip said.
       I had never shot pool with a naked guy before, and I had never shot with guys who bet on the game. In fact, I had only gotten glimpses of naked guys in the shower room at school. I was learning so much.
       Philip didn't scratch, and Kyle moved around the table like he wasn't really naked. He had a very large penis, and it stayed soft the entire game. Mine would have been hard the whole time.
       Kyle won, though. I mean he won the game and won the money. Philip flipped out his wallet and paid Kyle off.
       "There goes my Christmas," Philip said. "That was my Christmas present, Kyle."
       "I hate it. You should have played better pool."
       "I know," Philip said.
       "His real gift was his new Corolla. His Andrews grandmother gave him fifty dollars, Kyle, along with the ten thousand she put away for him. She gave me ten grand, too, only I got to have mine right away. She's a fucking millionaire," Ryan said.
       "I know she is. You got a new car? Let's go look at it," Kyle said.
       "It's at the house. We were at Ryan's, so we came here in his car," Philip said.
       "Is it nice?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. It's real nice. Dark blue. Kind of navy blue," Philip said. "It's got a great stereo in it, too."
       "I think Toyota makes the best cars," Kyle said. "I love my Land Cruiser. I used to want a Jeep like Tim's got, but not anymore. It's fun to drive his, but it's not very practical."
       "Is your car a lease?" Philip asked.
       "Yeah. That's the only way my daddy buys cars," Kyle said.
       "Mine, too," Philip said. "Technically, the company owns the lease, and I just drive it."
       "Same here," Kyle and Ryan both said.
       "I meant to ask you. What kind of business did you have with my daddy?" Philip asked.
       "I bought some houses," Kyle said. "Actually, three condos and two houses. Rentals."
       "How'd you pay for those? Did your daddy give you the money?" Ryan asked.
       "Indirectly, yeah, but I bought 'em with the money I get every month from my trust fund," Kyle said.
       "You get money every month? Shit, mine's all tied up until I turn twenty-one," Philip said. "That's why I didn't even see the ten thousand I got from my grandma for Christmas. I hate trust funds."
       "Mine, too," Ryan added. "True, I got the ten grand from Philip's grandma, but I didn't get a dime in cash from my family. It all got sucked into the trust fund."
       I couldn't believe these guys. Trust funds?! Wow! I knew there was money around because of the house we lived in and all, but I thought Kyle was poor, just like the others in the family. Most of them, anyway. I knew he had a nice car, but I figured he was paying for that every month, like most people do.
       "I started getting paid every month when I turned eighteen," Kyle said. "But I don't want to talk about that. Let's go scare up some leftovers or something. Are y'all hungry?"
       It was about five o'clock in the afternoon, and I definitely was feeling a little hungry.
       "Where did all these leftovers come from?" Philip asked. "Did y'all have a big party or something?"
       "Well, of course we did. Jeff and them's wedding," Kyle said.
       "Oh, that's right. My mama said it was real nice," Philip said. "I'm sorry we couldn't be here for it. Now she's starting to put the pressure on me and Ryan to do the same thing."
       "We're going to do it, eventually," Kyle said.
       "We will, too. I want something small, though. Nothing like what they had," Philip said.
       "That big thing was my mama's doings," Kyle said. "Of course, I planned it, so I guess it was my doings, too."
       "My parents had a good time at it," Ryan said. "They said the food was awesome. They said you and your daddy slow danced. Is that right?"
       "Yeah, we did. It was fun, too," Kyle said. "A lot of men were slow dancing together."
       I couldn't imagine my father ever dancing with me. Or hugging me, for that matter.
       "Did Mr. Gene pop a woody?" Philip asked.
       "Naw, I told him not to," Kyle said. He and Ryan laughed hard at that.
       "What's going on out here?" Justin bellowed. "What's all this racket?"
       He and Brian came into the kitchen of the clubhouse where we were getting the leftovers ready.
       "Hey, Bubba!" Philip and Ryan said in unison. Then the four guys hugged each other.
       "Have you guys been hunting?" Philip asked.
       "Yeah," Justin said.
       "Did you do any good?"
       "The dogs flushed two small coveys, and we hit a few. We put 'em in the freezer in the house. We played with the dogs more than we hunted," Justin said.
       "Where's the lease?" Philip asked.
       "It's up in Washington County, near Vernon," Kyle said. "If you got any time, we can go. Do you hunt, Todd?"
       "I've never been hunting. I've never fired a gun, either," I said.
       "We'll teach you," Ryan said. "Do you like being outdoors?"
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Well, it's a lot of fun, especially with these two," Justin said, pointing to the dogs. "Brian's got 'em trained so good."
       "Did my daddy go with y'all?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. He was up there," Brian said. "Him and another man. Mr. Stout. He's from Destin. We didn't ride together, and we didn't know they were going to be there, either."
       "The man's name was Mr. Stout?" Kyle asked. "Fat chance."
       "Ugh, that was bad, Kyle. It's going to stink into next week," Philip said.
       "So, are we going hunting or not, Philip?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. I reckon we could go tomorrow. Can you go tomorrow?"
       "Yeah, I can go tomorrow. Let me go inside and get Tim and the rest of them," Kyle said.
       *****
       "So, where you from, Todd?" Philip asked after Kyle left the room.
       "I'm from Texas. Houston," I said.
       "Are you gay?" Ryan asked. "All the rest of 'em around here are gay."
       "Yes," I said. "Two days ago I would have told you 'no,' but here it seems so natural."
       "Ryan and I go to FSU in Tallahassee, and we don't hesitate to come out to people, if the subject comes up, which it really doesn't very often. I think more and more, people just don't give a shit. Except the closet cases who are scared to be gay. Some of 'em even marry women," Philip said.
       "So I take it you're not out," Ryan said.
       "Only to my parents, grandmother, and two little sisters. Well, and to all of you now. I came out at home last August, and it's been pretty rough since then at home with my dad. My grandmother knows Kevin and Rick and the guys, and she's the one who suggested I might be better off living here for a while," I said. "So far it's been fantastic."
       "You won't find better people than the people in this house," Philip said. "Have you met Kyle's parents yet?"
       "They're in New York," Brian said.
       "Oh, that's right. They always go on a trip after Christmas. They just about raised me," Philip said. "They're some of the greatest people on this earth. They had another son, Clay, who died. He was also a very good friend. I still think about him a good bit."
       "Kyle does, too," Justin said. "Hey, do you fellows want a drink before we eat?"
       "That sounds good," Ryan said. "What you got? We've been drinking beer, but I'm ready to switch to whiskey."
       "What you want? I think we got just about every kind of liquor there is," Justin said.
       "Do you think you could make a Presbyterian? Kyle was talking about that before," I asked.
       "A what?"
       "Presbyterian. I've heard of that. That's what Kyle's daddy drinks," Philip said.
       "I'll get a recipe," Brian said.
       He went to the computer in the main room of the clubhouse and came back with a printed recipe in a couple of minutes.
       "Here it is," he said, handing the sheet of paper to Justin. Justin read it aloud.

           Ingredients:

           1 oz Blended Whiskey
           Coca-Cola
           Ginger ale
           1 slice Lemon

           Mixing instructions:

           Pour blended whiskey into a highball glass filled with ice cubes.
           Fill with equal parts of cola and ginger ale and stir well.
           Add the slice of lemon and serve.

       "Does anybody know what blended whiskey is?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah, I do. Let me find a bottle of it," Philip said.
       He went to a cabinet that was crammed full of liquor of all kinds. He came back with a bottle.
       "Use this, Jus. This'll be good. I hope y'all got ginger ale and a lemon," he said.
       "Yeah, we got that."
       Justin and Philip made the drinks, and Justin handed me one. I tasted it, and it was very good. It was much better than that beer had been.
       "This ain't a bad drink," Justin said.
       "Let me taste it, Buddy," Brian said, and he took a taste.
       "You're right. It's real sweet, but it's sort of lemony at the same time," Brian said.
       "You want one?" Justin asked.
       "Naw. I just wanted to taste yours," he said.
       "This is a day of firsts for me. First beer, first game of strip pool, first taste of whiskey, first time I've seen guys bet on a pool game. It's so ironic. I'm in a totally gay environment, and I feel more like a real man than I ever have in my life," I said.
       "How about the first cigarette? Have you had one yet?" Justin asked.
       "No," I said.
       "Here, have one of mine," Justin said.
       I knew it was totally stupid of me, but I had wanted to try smoking a cigarette for a long time. I knew there were freshmen at my old school who smoked, but I had never been in a situation before where I had the opportunity. I took one of Justin's cigarettes. He showed me how to light it and how to smoke it. Needless to say, I coughed my head off. They all laughed, but I knew it was because it was funny and not because they were making fun of me.
       "You sucked the smoke in too deep, Todd. Just a little until you get used to it," Ryan said.
       I tried it again, and that time I didn't cough. In a couple of seconds, I got this full-body tingle, and my head got a little light. I didn't like that feeling, although it wasn't really unpleasant. I took another puff, and that one was much easier. I was getting more lightheaded, though. I went ahead and put it out.
       "Now, see. You've smoked a cigarette. You don't ever have to do that again, if you don't want to, but you've done it," Justin said. "Now we just need to get you laid and tattooed, and you'll be just like the rest of us."
       "Do you have a tattoo?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Right down here," he said, pointing to the same general area as Kyle's tattoo. "Brian's got one, too, and both of them's got 'em," he said, pointing to Philip and Ryan.
       "I think tattoos are really cool," I said.
       "We do, too. But not too many. I might get one on my arm where theirs are, but that would be it for me. What about you, Little Buddy?" Justin asked Brian.
       "Yeah, I could stand one on my arm, but it would have to be high up, like Philip's and Ryan's," Brian said. "I might get one when I graduate from medical school. I want it to mean something. The one I have means I'm in love with Justin. But just random stuff on my body? Naw."
       "Do you want to go to medical school?"
       "Yeah. Tim does, too. We want to go to Tulane University and then Tulane Medical School," Brian said.
       "Cool. My parents are both doctors," I said.
       "Kevin's parents are both doctors, and Tim's dad is an oral surgeon. He's a dentist, though, not an M.D.," Brian said.
       Every little bit like that I picked up sort of changed my perception of where I was, and maybe who I was. I had already figured out that the kids in the house were basically pretty smart, although the grammar of Justin and Kyle, and to a lesser extent, Rick, wasn't very good.
       We had studied a unit on the theme of illusion versus reality in literature in my English class first semester, and I now wondered if that was what I was caught up in. I made a mental list.
       Illusion Reality
       All gay guys are effeminate little fairies that don't like sports and like to shop all the time. The gay guys in the house are very masculine, or most of them, anyway, and they like to hunt and shoot pool. And drink, of course.
       All gay guys are depressed and isolated from the people around them. The gay guys in the house are happy and have tons of friends.
       Almost no one is gay. Tons of people are gay.
       All gay guys are on the outs with their families. Most of the gay guys in the house who have families have great relationships with their families.
       All fathers of gay guys hate their sons. The father of at least one gay guy in the house did a slow dance with his son in public.
       All gay guys are promiscuous and can't commit to a life partner. Six gay guys in the house are in committed, long-term relationships, and four gay guys associated with the house have just made a public commitment to their partners.
       All gay guys love cats. The gay guys in the house love dogs. Hunting dogs.
       The parents of all gay guys hate their sons' boyfriends. The parents of Philip and Ryan are putting pressure on them to make a public declaration of their love for each other.
       I had read on the "Car Talk" Web site that the Volkswagen Jetta is the ultimate "gay" car. The guys I met drive Jeeps and pickup trucks and Toyota Land Cruisers and Mazdas and Suburbans and Celicas and Corollas.
       All gay guys want to be hairdressers or interior decorators. Brian and Tim want to be doctors.
       My mind was being blown by the minute.
       The rest of the guys came into the clubhouse just then.
       "Is the food ready?" Kyle asked, rather loudly, to be heard.
       "What have you been doing, Kyle? It doesn't take forty-five minutes to wake somebody up," Phillip said.
       "None of your business, that's what," Kyle said. "Are we ready to eat?"
       "The food's all out. Have at it. I'm having another drink, though, first. We're drinking Presbyterians, and that's a good drink," Justin said.
       "Oh, yeah? You figured out how to make 'em?"
       "Brian got the recipe from the Internet. Do you want me to make you one?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah, please. I know it's a good drink. I've tasted 'em before," Kyle said.
       Kevin and Rick hugged up Philip and Ryan big time when they came into the room. It was obvious they were friends. Philip and Ryan shook hands with Denny like they knew him, and Kevin introduced Murray and Sean to them.
       Justin made drinks for Kyle, Sean, and Kevin, but he gave cokes to the other boys. Kyle went over to the thermostat and adjusted it. Then he went outside and brought in an armload of logs for the fireplace. He lit a fire, and we all sort of gathered around it.
       One by one we went into the kitchen and fixed our plates. The fire was our focus, and we talked of this and that. Florida State was going to play in the Fiesta Bowl that was coming up in a few days, and that got a lot of attention. I'm more of an Oklahoma fan than a Florida State fan, but I kept my mouth shut. I was in Florida, in the home of two Florida State graduates, so I didn't dare voice my support for Oklahoma.
       As the evening was winding down, Kyle said,
       "Eagles, stand up."
       I wasn't sure I knew what he was talking about.
       "Hands up, Eagles," and Philip, Ryan, Tim, Brian, and Kyle raised their fists above their heads. They were all standing up.
       "Round about the council fireside," Kyle intoned. He seemed to have the perfect pitch of that song.
       I knew that song. I jumped to my feet and raised my fist. I'm an Eagle Scout, and I knew what that meant. I was the youngest Eagle in my troop, but my brothers were here with me. Tears were streaming down my face. I was so happy.
       "We have met in comradeship tonight," I sang.
       We finished that song, and all of us were crying.
       Then Kyle started singing Taps. He sang it by himself.

           Taps

           Day is done, gone the sun,
           From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
           All is well, safely rest,
           God is nigh.

           Fading light, dims the sight,
           And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
           From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.
           Thanks and praise, for our days,
           'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, 'neath the sky;
           As we go, this we know,
           God is nigh.

           Sun has set, shadows come,
           Time has fled, Scouts must go to their beds
           Always true to the promise that they made.
           While the light fades from sight,
           And the stars gleaming rays softly send,
           To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend.

       "That was fucking beautiful, Kyle," Philip said, and he kissed Kyle on the forehead. "When you started singing 'Round About,' that was our whole childhood, man. And when you made the Eagles stand up, that was more than I could handle. I'm too emotional right now. And Todd stood up with us. He's an Eagle, too. He knew."
       "Kyle, I'm a fucking basket case," Ryan said. "All the years of friendship and fun kind of came together for me tonight. I love you, Kyle."
       I noticed Kevin and Rick, and Denny, Murray, and Sean slip out. It was as though they were leaving the Scouts alone in the clubhouse. Justin isn't an Eagle Scout, evidently, but he stayed with Brian, who is. I had a couple of more Presbyterians that night, and we all slept in the clubhouse, mostly on the floor. I knew I had truly come to where I belonged.

Chapter 03

(Jeff's Perspective)
       Our wedding was unbelievable. Ty actually got some of the food, and he said it was delicious. I was too nervous to eat, plus I really didn't have time because of all the people there were to greet. Ty and I danced the traditional first dance as a married couple, but I danced a bunch after that. I slow danced with Rita and Sonya and Beth and Cherie, and I fast danced with my brothers, too. I danced with them both individually and collectively.
       "Rita, this is the nicest party I've ever been to, and I've been to some really nice ones. Mostly at your house and Beth's house," I said. "Thank you for doing this for us."
       "Gene and I are happy to do this, Jeff. You're like our son, you know," Rita said.
       "Yes, and I consider myself very fortunate to have the two of you," I said.
       "I'm glad your brother and his partner could be here. It's too bad your parents couldn't make it," she said.
       "Yeah, well . . . "
       "I saw that their names were on the invitation list. Did they respond in any way?" she asked.
       "No, and I really didn't expect them to. The same with Tony's parents," I said. "It's too bad all parents of gay men can't be like you, the Murphys, the Foleys, and the Joneses."
       "You're right. Jeff, it's their loss, not yours. I mean, I don't know your parents, but I just don't understand how they could cut off both of their children, as your parents have done. By the way, the Joneses are delightful people. Of course, I'm not surprised, knowing Tyler," she said.
       "Yeah, they're pretty neat people. I wish they lived closer so we could see more of them," I said.
       "Maybe they'll wise up and retire here to Emerald Beach. Surely living in Minnesota must be difficult in the winter," she said.
       "They've actually talked about it, and it's a definite possibility," I said. "Ty and I definitely won't be moving to Minnesota."
       "Jeff, changing the subject . . . when are you going to graduate?" she asked.
       "In May. Ty has another year to go after this one, and then he'll be finished, too," I said.
       "That's marvelous. I know Kevin or Rick will have something lined up for you in the business. They'd better, anyway, or Gene will have a fit," she said.
       "I think we'll be well taken care of," I said.
       "Any thoughts on graduate school? Gene says you don't need an M.B.A. to run a hotel, but they seem to be so popular these days," she said.
       "That's a possibility down the line, I guess, but not right away," I said.
       "Mama, come dance with me," Kyle said as he came up to us.
       "Kyle, I'm talking to Jeff, Son," she said."
       Oh, sorry," Kyle said.
       "That's all right, Rita," I said. "There are still quite a few people I haven't spoken with yet, so I should probably circulate."
       "Yes, you should, Son," she said, and she and Kyle went off to dance.
       "So, Babe, what do you think?" Ty asked me when Rita left.
       "This is the happiest day of my life," I said.
       "Mine, too," he replied. "Jeff, I can't believe how lucky I am to have found you. And on the Internet, too. It's remarkable, isn't it?"
       "Do you remember our first date?" I asked.
       "Yeah. I was so nervous I could barely keep from trembling. I got a hard-on as soon as I saw you, and I was scared to death you'd notice it," Ty said.
       "I did notice it, and I had one, too," I said.
       "I remember thinking about it later and realizing that a hard-on under those circumstances is a pretty big compliment, and I noticed yours, too," Ty said. "Thank God these pants we're wearing are as baggy as they are."
       "I know; me, too. Do you want to dance?" I asked.
       "Are you kidding? If we did that, we'd flood the dance floor," he said.
       I chuckled. "You're right. Maybe we'd better go off in different directions for right now."
       "Okay," he said, and we kissed and split up.
       * * *
       One aspect of the wedding that took me by surprise was the number of gifts we received. Rita had insisted that each couple pick out sterling sliver flatware, china, and crystal patterns, as well as everyday tableware.
       "What are we going to do with this crap, if anybody gives any of it to us?" Tony had said when we were picking it out.
       "Use it, I guess," Chuck said. "But I doubt that we'll get much of it. This shit is expensive."
       "Yeah, but one day you'll be glad you have it," Kevin said. "We're sure glad we have our stuff."
       "Who gave it to you?" I asked. "Since you didn't have a big wedding and all?"
       "I actually inherited it from my grandmother on my father's side. Really, my dad inherited it, and he gave it to me," Kevin said.
       "Did Craig get some, too?" I asked.
       "Oh, yeah. There was a ton of it," Kevin said.
       "Is Ed an only child?" I asked.
       "No, he wasn't. He had a brother, but he was killed in Vietnam. His brother wasn't married, so my dad was the sole heir of his parents' estate. His father was a doctor, too. Did you know that?" Kevin said.
       "No, I didn't," I said. "Do you think we're going to get any of this stuff?"
       "Probably. Some of the people on that guest list are pretty high rollers, so y'all might end up with quite a bit," Kevin said.
       Kevin's prediction turned out to be quite accurate, and both couples got a lot of the things we had picked out. Since every bit of it was "open stock," we could fill in whatever we didn't get at some point in the future. We got other things, too, of course, but we each got enough tableware to host a very elegant dinner party.
       Another thing that surprised me was how highly organized the "wedding industry" is. About 99.9% of the stuff you can buy is all about "the bride," but we bought some of it and used it anyway. For example, we each bought a set of file cards so we could record the name and address of the people we invited, on individual cards. There is a place to write in what the gift is from the people whose names are on the card, and a place to check when you send the "thank you" note. Then, for added convenience, there is a place to check when you send a Christmas card every year. I had never seen anything like that before, but it looked like it would be really useful for the wedding and in the future, too. The directions that came with that recommend you write it all in pencil, so it can be erased when addresses, and names, too, change.
       Something else that was news to me was the number of parties that were given in our honor before the wedding itself. Rita and Gene are members of "high society," if you can even call it that in Emerald Beach, and they have entertained in honor of many couples through the years. Rita did something pretty damn clever, I think, to make sure her friends knew just what was going on. She personally sent out "save the date" cards.
       This was something none of the four of us had ever heard of, but apparently it's done all the time. Right after we decided on a date for the wedding, she had these cards printed up saying that her "honorary son, Mr. Jeffrey Martin" would be getting married on December 26th, and the people who got cards knew they would be invited to the wedding. It amounted to putting the good citizens of Emerald Beach on notice that it was time to start reciprocating for all the parties she and Gene had been giving for so long. And it worked. There were four large dinner parties and three cocktail parties in our honor, and there was a brunch for out-of-town guests the morning of the wedding. These were each hosted by as many as eight couples. We were writing "thank you" notes fast and furiously, but that's just the way it was done.
       * * *
       The reception was supposed to be over at 8:30, so the four grooms left at eight o'clock. We were staying in the hotel that night and would be leaving from there the next morning to drive to Ft. Lauderdale, where we would meet our cruise ship.
       As soon as the four of us got on the elevator, Tony grabbed Chuck and laid a major lip lock on him. Tyler, not to be outdone, did the same to me, and we rode up to the tenth floor in one continuous kiss. Quite naturally, all four of us got super turned on.
       We were staying in the Presidential Suite. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a small kitchen, and a large sitting room. The furnishings in that place were unbelievable. As soon as we got inside, each couple went to their bedroom. I don't know what Tony and Chuck did, but Ty and I were all over each other in an instant. He and I made the most intense, the most passionate love of our lives that night. Several times.
       Two hours later, we were thoroughly drained, literally and figuratively.
       "Jeff, I don't know how many times we've done this since we've been together, but it's never been as good for me as it was tonight," Ty said.
       "I know. For me, too. God, I love you, Mr. Jones."
       "And I love you, Mr. Martin," he said.
       I got up to peek into the living room, and Tony and Chuck were in there opening a bottle of champagne. Chuck saw me.
       "Come on out and let's drink a toast," he said. "If you can still walk, that is."
       I laughed.
       "Did you hear him?" I asked Ty.
       "No. What did he say?"
       "They want us to drink a toast," I said.
       "Okay," Ty said.
       Ty got out of bed and reached for one of the terrycloth robes that came with the room.
       "They're not wearing anything," I said.
       "In that case, I won't, either," he said, and we joined our friends, naked as the day we were born.
       Tony handed each of us a glass of champagne.
       "Here's to love, commitment, fidelity, and undying friendship," he said.
       We all said "here, here."
       We took a sip of the wine, and each couple kissed.
       When we broke our kisses, after several minutes, Tony stepped away from Chuck with a semi-erection. The rest of us were as limp as cooked spaghetti.
       "Look at him. Can you believe this shit?" Chuck said, flipping Tony's penis up and down. "You might as well take a cold shower because I can't do it again tonight."
       We all laughed.
       "I can't help it if you turn me on, Baby," Tony said. He was cute in the way he said it.
       "Baby, I'm flattered, and maybe a little later, okay, but I'm exhausted right now," Chuck said.
       "I know. I am, too. I honestly don't know where this came from. Besides, it's at ease now," he said, and his penis was totally flaccid.
       "Guys, this whole thing has been un-fucking-believable to me," Ty said. "I have never in my life even imagined feeling the way I do right now. I never, ever thought I'd be this happy or have friends that I love as much as I do you guys. We've got it good, don't we?"
       "I'll say. When my mom died and our house burned down, I thought that was the end of my life," Chuck said. "But you know what? I wouldn't have what I have right now if that hadn't happened. I doubt that I would have ever come out or dated guys, as long as she was alive."
       "Was your mom homophobic?" I asked. I had a hard time believing she would have been.
       "Oh, no. Not at all. I was just terribly ashamed of being gay, and I could never have admitted that to her. Or to anyone, really, if it weren't for the time I spent with Kevin and Rick. They're fucking miracle workers. You know that?"
       "I know they worked one on me. Probably more than one, if the truth were known. Them and Kyle," I said.
       "Did you notice him tonight? He was having a good time, that's for sure. Those four boys are like us, you know? I hope all five couples can stay together and stay close," Tony said.
       "I don't see any reason we won't," I said. "Eventually, we might each want our own place, but I see us living in houses next door to one another when that happens. I see us working together, going on vacations together, hanging out and partying together. I think we're in for some very happy lives, guys."
       The four of us settled into a companionable silence. I was thinking about how incredibly lucky I am and about how much I love Tyler. It had been an exhausting five or six days, and we were tired. Tony was the first one to nod off to sleep, and his empty champagne glass slipped from his fingers onto the thick carpet, with a gentle 'plunk.' Chuck noticed, woke him up, and led him off to bed. Ty and I went to bed, too, then, and we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

(Tony's Perspective)
       When we first started making honeymoon plans, nobody could agree on where we should go. Since we hadn't had to put out a dime for any aspect of the wedding, we knew we could afford pretty much anything we wanted to do. Not only that, but Kevin and Rick's gift to each couple was a check for $5,000, and we could have a grand honeymoon with that.
       Tyler had suggested we go to Vermont and have a Civil Union ceremony as part of our honeymoon. I liked that idea, but Chuck and Jeff both thought that going to Vermont in December and early January is crazy.
       Chuck thought a trip to Europe would be fun. Jeff loved that idea, but Ty reminded us that he and Jeff had to start the second semester shortly after New Year's. Ty thought the trip was a great idea, but he wanted to postpone it until we had more time.
       "I've never been on a cruise. Have any of you guys?" I asked.
       They hadn't.
       "I hear those things are fabulous, especially in the winter. I wouldn't mind going on a Caribbean cruise," I said.
       They all liked that idea, and, since it was my idea, I was charged with the responsibility of getting that organized. The next day I gave my secretary the assignment of getting information about Caribbean cruises.
       They say an executive, if that's really what I am, is only as good as his secretary, and I have one who is fantastic. By the end of the day, she had a packet of information that she printed off the Internet that was a good half inch thick. She gave it to me in a manila envelope as I was leaving for the day.
       "I put those in what I thought might be priority order, with the best ones first," she said.
       "Thank you so much," I said.
       "No problem. I think what you guys are doing is so incredibly romantic. If I can help in any way, please don't hesitate to ask me," she said. "And I don't mean just during the work day, okay, Tony?"
       "Thank you, sweetie. I wish you were a guy," I said.
       She giggled.
       "Get out of here. Go home to that stud of yours," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said, and I left.
       After we ate, we cleared off the coffee table and I spread out the packets in the order that she had put them in. The first one was a seven-night cruise of the eastern Caribbean on the Celebrity Millennium, a ship that had gone into service on July 1, 2000. The dates of the cruise were perfect for our schedule, and it sailed out of Ft. Lauderdale. It was about $1,500 per person, which was well within our budget, and, maybe best of all, it was being billed as "all gay."
       "Whoa! Listen to this," Jeff said.
       We had each picked up one of the first four, and he had happened to get number one. He read from the printout all about the luxury of the ship, the itinerary, and all about the activities that were available.
       "Here's the schedule," he said. "December 28th: Leave Ft. Lauderdale at 4:00 PM. December 29th: At sea. December 30th: San Juan, Puerto Rico, 1:00 PM till 2:00 AM. December 31st: St. Thomas, Virgin Islands, 8:00 AM till 6:00 PM; special New Year's Eve party on ship. January 1st: Casa de Campo, Dominican Republic, 8:00 AM till 6:00 PM. January 2nd: Labadee (private island), 9:00 AM till 6:00 PM. January 3rd: At sea. January 4th: Ft. Lauderdale, 8:00 AM."
       "Damn! That sounds like a perfect schedule for us. Our second semester starts on Monday, January 11th. Guys, this is too good," Ty said.
       "I kind of like the fact that it's 'gay only,'" I said. "I mean, I know we can all hang out with straight people all day long, but, guys, this is our honeymoon. There probably won't be any kids on it, for one thing, and I think I'd just feel more comfortable in that kind of environment. This one gets my vote."
       "Mine, too," they all said in unison.
       "It's seven nights on the ship. I guess that's when they do most of the sailing. At night. There's nothing bad about this," Chuck said. "And there's a hell of a lot good about it."
       "Do you think we can get a flight from here to Ft. Lauderdale?" I asked.
       "No. I know we can't. I mean, I'm sure we can, but it would be through Atlanta or Memphis, probably, which is bullshit. We'd have to drive, which would take us what? Eleven or twelve hours? That's not bad, considering. And it doesn't leave until the twenty-eighth. We've got the twenty-seventh to get there. Coming back, we can take our time. We can even stop off in Orlando for a day, do the Magic Kingdom. Or whatever. You know what I mean?" Chuck said.
       "Do you guys want me to get Sheila to book it tomorrow?" I asked.
       They all said they did.
       "And have her book a couple of nights in Orlando at the ass end of it, too," Chuck said. "It's been a hell of a long time since I've been there, and I'd like to do Disney World again."
       "I've never been there," I said.
       "Me, either," Tyler added.
       "Okay, guys. That's what it's going to be. I think we got this thing knocked," I said.
       * * *
       The morning after the wedding everybody was up and ready to leave by eight o'clock. The hotel was all complimentary, even room service, if we had ordered any, so we didn't have to fool with checking out. Our sheets were a total disaster with dried cum, and I was sure Jeff and Ty's were, too. We left housekeeping a $100 tip for that very reason. And then we took off.
       We took Jeff's car because it was the best one we had, and we made surprisingly good time. In fact, we got there in ten hours.
       "Are you going to call your parents?" Tyler asked Jeff.
       "No," Jeff said. "They don't have sons anymore, remember? They only have two boys they gave birth to and raised. They're not interested in my brother and me. We're both fags, remember?"
       "That's right. You grew up in Ft. Lauderdale, didn't you?" Chuck said.
       "Yeah. We can go out tonight, if you guys are interested. There's a huge gay community here, and some of the clubs are pretty awesome," Jeff said.
       "I wouldn't mind," I said. "I've only ever been to a couple of gay bars, and you and I have never been to one together, have we, Baby?"
       "Nope. I've never been to one. Period," Chuck said.
       "Neither have I," Ty said. "I'd like to check it out just to see what it's like."
       "All righty, then. It sounds like we've got a plan for the night. The ship doesn't leave until four tomorrow, so we don't have to be up at the crack of dawn. I can't tell you guys how happy I am right now," I said, and happy tears started streaming down my face.
       "I think we're all in the same boat as you, Tony," Jeff said. "I know I am."
       * * *
       I had only ever been on one vacation before in my life, and that was just a four-day camping trip with my mom and her then-boyfriend when I was about eight years old. We had the best time on that trip that I think any four guys have ever had. As far as I could tell, there were no women on the ship at all. It was all guys, and couples were holding hands, kissing, hugging each other, and maybe even doing a little stand-up dry fucking all over the place.
       Every place we landed was totally different, and they had different excursions at every one of them, too. The first place we landed, San Juan, Puerto Rico, was the biggest city, and the nightlife there was fabulous. We took a two-hour bus tour of San Juan and saw all the major sights. My second favorite place was that private island. It was a huge resort, and it was totally a beach day. All nude. We snorkeled and even did a little SCUBA diving under close supervision. I knew Kyle loved to dive, and I decided I was going to work on my certification when I got back to Emerald Beach. That was fun.
       The food on the trip was unbelievable, and any drink you wanted was right there for the asking on the ship. We spent time in the hot tubs, and all four of us took a cooking class for men. That was cool, and we needed that. One night we went to the casino on board, but that really wasn't our cup of tea. They had several theaters, and we saw several "gay" movies. I knew those would never make it to Emerald Beach, and I enjoyed them.
       "I didn't think anybody could do as much as we have in seven days," I said after we landed back home in Ft. Lauderdale. "It was unbelievable."
       "I know. This was the best," Ty said. "Thanks for organizing it, Tony."
       The rest of them thanked me, too.
       "And the thing is, we've still got Disney ahead of us," I said.
       * * *
       Disney World was fantastic, as I knew it would be. All my life I had dreamed about going to that place, or to Disney Land in California, and I wasn't one bit disappointed. Kevin and Rick had taken some of the kids to Gay Days the previous June, and I knew that one day Chuck and I were going to be there for that, hopefully with Jeff and Ty.
       "You really like this, don't you?" Chuck asked me.
       "I love it," I said. "I've wanted to come here all my life, Baby. Thank you so much for suggesting it."
       When I said that, he smiled at me in a way that all but melted my heart. I wanted so bad to kiss him just then. I didn't, though. Instead, I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. He knew what I meant.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       "What you reckon they're doing?" Kyle asked.
       Justin glanced at his watch. "At right this minute? Probably fucking," he said. "I know I would be."
       "Okay, guys. That's enough speculation, okay?" I said.
       "Kevin, I think you're the most up-tight guy in this house. You know that?" Jus said.
       "Justin . . . "
       "What, Kevin? You know we smoke. You know we drink. You know we fuck. What is it with you and Rick, Kevin? Huh? We can do it; we just can't talk about it," Justin said.
       "Jus, Rick and I are trying to create a world here where it's safe and acceptable to be a gay teenager. But, Justin, there are laws that we have to at least pay lip service to. Take you and Brian. You're nineteen and he's seventeen. If you had sex with Brian, that would be a felony. It's totally fucked up, but that's the way it is, man. That's why you can't talk about it. Think about Rick and me. We would be put under the jail if we did anything with these younger guys," I said.
       "Yeah, but you're not going to do that, anyway," Justin said.
       "You're right. We're not. But the people around town don't know for sure that we aren't doing it right now. I know it's hard to understand and confusing, but we really can't talk about what we do in private," I said. "Or what anybody does in private. If Rick and I make love, orally or anally, that's against the law. They never go after people like us, but every time Rick and I make love we're committing a crime."
       "That is way too fucked up, man," Justin said.
       "I know it's fucked up, Justin, but that's the law, man. So just keep your big, fat mouth shut, okay?" I said.
       Justin chuckled.
       "Kevin, I would cheerfully kill for you and Rick, and for what you're doing here, and you know it," Jus said.
       "We know that, Bubba," I said. "So, are you guys ready for the second semester? Tim and Brian, it's your last one as high school boys."
       "I guess I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be," Brian said.
       "Me, too, but Brian and I don't have cushy schedules like somebody had last year," Tim said.
       "Who you talking about, l'il boy? Me?" Kyle asked, his grumble very evident.
       "Who do you think? Justin?" Tim said. His Emerald Beach Grumble wasn't as good as Kyle's or Justin's, but it was pretty damn good.
       "All right, Babe, you got the Grumble down," Kyle said. He and Tim high-fived.
       "I know. I've been listening to you for three damn years, and I can grumble with you anytime you want to," Tim said.
       We all laughed.
       "Yeah, you can grumble, but can you grapple?" Kyle asked.
       "What do you mean?" Tim asked in his normal voice.
       "That means, can you wrassle me?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, I can. Later in bed. Not here, though," Tim said.
       "I know. It's gotta be skin on skin," Kyle said.
       We all laughed. It was funny, but it was getting close to being too personal.
       "Guys, that's probably as far as we want to go with that, okay?" Rick said.
       "Okay, I hear you," Kyle said.
       * * *
       The second semester at Beachside High School and Emerald Coast Community College started on Tuesday, January 4th. There was some speculation in town that they set the return date on a Tuesday because the bowl game FSU was in was on Sunday night. But we figured they give the same number of holidays every year, and every year the day of the week of Christmas determines what the Christmas break will consist of. Besides, they didn't know about the bowl game when they made out this year's schedule.
       "I don't know about this college shit," Justin said the night before the second semester started.
       "Justin, this is your fourth semester of college. Are you still scared, Bubba?" Rick asked.
       "I'm terrified, Rick," he said.
       "What's your overall GPA, Bubba?" Rick asked.
       "I dunno," Justin said.
       "I know. It's 3.725," Brian said.
       "Justin, that's a fabulous GPA," Rick said. "That's the highest honors, man."
       "I know it is, but this time I'm probably going to flunk everything," Justin said.
       Brian grabbed his chin.
       "Justin. Look at me. Shut up about flunking. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Flunk. Anything," Brian said emphatically.
       "I know that's what y'all say, but that ain't necessarily what it's going to be," Jus said.
       "Davis, you're so full of shit, you stink from here," Kyle said. "You ain't going to flunk nothing, and I ain't, either. You and me got the exact same classes, and we ain't going to flunk 'em. You and me are both going to graduate from Emerald Coast in May, and I guarantee that, son."
       "You're really both going to graduate from Emerald Coast this semester?" I asked in surprise.
       "If I pass it all, I will. Which I doubt," Justin said.
       "You, too, Kyle?" I asked.
       "Yes, sir. And we'll pass it all. I guarantee," Kyle said.
       "Justin, that's pretty amazing, for you, especially. I know Kyle had a bunch of college credits through dual enrollment courses in high school, but you didn't have any when you started," I said.
       "I know. That's the miracle of it all," Jus said. "I can barely read and write, and here I'm fixing to graduate from a damn college. If I pass it all, that is."
       I thought about the boy--the man, really--sitting across from me, and all of a sudden I was filled with emotion. Tears came to my eyes.
       "What the hell's wrong with you?" Justin demanded.
       "I don't know, Justin. I guess I'm just pretty damn happy and proud right now. Is that okay with you?" I said, in my lame attempt at the grumble.
       "Yeah, it's okay with me. You l'il pussy," he said, grinning.
       "Come here, guys," I said, meaning Justin and Kyle. "Sit on either side of me so I can hug you."
       They did as I said.
       "How gay is this?" Kyle said.
       "Shut up, you little prick," I said. "Guys, I don't tell y'all this often enough, but I love you very, very much."
       "We love you, too, Kevin," Justin said. "We never talk about it, but we do. And Rick, too. You guys have given me life, and I mean that."
       "Kevin, I love you, too, and I know you're just being affectionate and all," Kyle said. "But this position is uncomfortable as hell."
       I laughed, but I also turned them loose. It was pretty uncomfortable for me, too.
       "I guess you'll be going up to the high school tomorrow with Todd, right?" Rick asked.
       "Yeah. I wonder if the fax of his birth certificate came in. Surely Mary Ann would have called if it had," I said.
       "She did call, Babe. I erased the message because I assumed you had heard it. I'm sorry, Kevin," Rick said.
       "That's no big deal. I'll just have to swing by the office to get it before we go to school to register tomorrow," I said.
       "Just fax it to the school," Kyle said. "Make the technology work for you, Bubba."
       "Yeah, I guess I could do that. Why do they even need a birth certificate?" I asked.
       "They don't. Just to start kindergarten," Brian said. "You don't have my birth certificate, do you?"
       "No. You're right. We don't. But you know what? If you guys are serious about going to Europe this coming summer, you're going to need a passport. And to get a passport, you definitely need a birth certificate. I know we've got yours, Justin. Tim and Kyle, you guys have birth certificates, don't you?" I said.
       "I must have one somewhere. I've got a passport," Tim said.
       "I got one, too," Kyle said. "They're good for a few years, aren't they?"
       "Ten years," I said. "Brian, take care of that, would you? You can order them on line. If there's a fee, get Justin to give you the household credit card he has, to pay for it."
       "Okay," Brian said.
       * * *
       The next morning Justin had his usual back-to-college jitters at breakfast. I don't ordinarily think of Justin as being "cute," but he really is. In appearance and demeanor, he is this big, tough, macho guy, who is totally self-confident and self-assured. In reality, though, deep down, Justin is a pretty vulnerable little boy.
       "Shut up about being scared to death about college, Justin. Every time you start a new semester, it's like it's the end of the fucking world or something. Every damn time, you're so scared you're about to shit your pants. Have you ever done that? Huh?" Kyle grumbled.
       "No, but that don't mean it can't happen," Justin said.
       "It's not going to happen, Davis, so shut the fuck up about it, okay?" Kyle said.
       "No," Justin said. "Why are you picking on me, Kyle? Huh?"
       "I'm not picking on you, Bubba. But look at the facts. You're a fucking honor student, man. I'm not. Your GPA is summa cum laude. You said last night that you can barely read and write. That is such bullshit . . . I can't even say how much bullshit that is. Stop putting yourself down, okay?" Kyle said, rather adamantly.
       "Okay. I'm shutting up. I'm not saying another word," Justin said.
       "Why are you so scared of school?" Todd asked.
       "'Cause I never went before, that's why. I kinda like dropped out at the end of the seventh grade. I didn't go to high school like you guys are doing," Justin said.
       "Really? Why not?" Murray asked.
       "It's a long, ugly story, Bubba, and you don't want to hear it," Justin said.
       "Guys, Justin's . . . life before he came here was . . . very difficult," I said. "Denny, I know you had it pretty rough, and so did Brian, but Justin had it very rough."
       "Let's don't talk about me. Kyle, pass the biscuits and the gravy, please," Justin said.
       "There's no more gravy here, but I got some more in the kitchen. Let me go warm it up for you," Kyle said. "It'll only take a second."
       "All right. Thanks," Justin said.
       "Can I say something?" Todd asked.
       "Sure," Rick said. "Say whatever you want."
       Todd was extremely serious, and the rest of the boys stopped eating to listen to him.
       "Guys, I've only been here a few days. At home, I was in a very bad environment because of my dad. This is just my ninth day here, but I have never been happier in my whole life than these nine days. Rick and Kevin, thank you for taking me in. I was scared to death of being gay before I came here, but now I know that being gay doesn't mean I can't be happy. I'm very happy, and thank you," Todd said.
       There was kind of an awkward silence after he said that.
       "You're a gift to this family, Todd, and you're welcome to stay here for as long as you need to or want to," Rick said.
       Tears were streaming down his face. He used his napkin to wipe them up, and then he blew his nose into the napkin. I was glad we used paper napkins at breakfast.
       "Here you go, stud. Sausage gravy for the boy with the big sausage," Kyle said, coming back into the dining room.
       He looked around, and it was obvious on his face that he realized he had missed an important family moment.
       "What'd I miss?" Kyle demanded.
       "Nothing. I'll tell you later. Does nobody else want one of these biscuits with the hot gravy?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah, I'll have one," Rick said.
       "Me, too," Sean added.
       "Do you make these biscuits fresh every day, Kyle?" Todd asked.
       "Hell, no. They're frozen. I cook 'em, but I don't make 'em," Kyle said.
       "Well, they're as good as any I've ever had," Todd said.
       "Thank Miss Mary," Kyle said.
       "Who the hell is Miss Mary?" Jus asked.
       "I don't know, but her name is on the package. I reckon she makes 'em. Freezes up the dough. They are good, though, aren't they?"
       "They're sublime," Justin said. "Go look it up, Kyle. Under 'S,'" Justin said.
       Tim and Brian were laughing their asses off, as usual, at the antics of those two.
       "How you spell that?" Kyle asked.
       "S-u-b-l-i-m-e," Justin said.
       "They're 'under the lime?' 'Sub' means under, right?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, that's right, Babe," Tim said. He was laughing.
       "Under the lime tree or the lime fruit? A lime's a fruit, ain't it?" Kyle said.
       "You should know. You know a lot of fruits," Justin said.
       "I reckon I do. I know ten at this table, just for starters," Kyle said.
       All the boys were laughing, but Todd and Sean seemed to be especially tickled.
       "I can't keep it up, Bubba. You won this one. Besides, my gravy is getting cold," Justin said.
       * * *
       I took Todd to Beachside High School and got him registered and scheduled. He was in all honors classes, except PE, which was swimming. I figured he knew how to swim, but I didn't make a "thing" of it. There wasn't any reason for him not to take that. Given his dimensions, I didn't think there would be any issues with the size of his "man land," like there had been with Chip Rooney the year before.
       "I can't believe he's only a freshman," Sally Ortega, the principal, said when she and I were talking after she met him.
       "Everything's big in Texas," I said.
       "What do his parents do, do you know?" she asked.
       "Yeah. Plastic surgeon and pediatrician, dad and mom, respectively," I said.
       "Oh, bless his heart, Kevin," she said.
       "I know," I said.

Chapter 04

(Rick's Perspective)
       I got to the office at the usual time on Tuesday, January 4th. Kevin and I had both taken off the full Christmas holidays that the boys had off from school, as had many of the top management people. At this time of year, the business is relatively dormant, so it's easy to take time off. Kevin's secretary, and mine, both know to call us if there were any major crises, and there hadn't been any.
       "What's on tap for today, Cheryl?" I asked after we had "visited" a bit about the holidays.
       "You've got an appointment with Andrew Callaway from Gift Shop Number 13. I don't know what he wants," she said.
       "Okay. That one is open all year, isn't it?" I said.
       "Yes, sir. It's the second biggest, after the one in this building," she said.
       I had a vague mental picture of what he looked like, but I really didn't know him well at all. He is an assistant manager, and I don't have very much contact with people at his level.
       "Okay. Just let me know when he gets here," I said.
       I went into my office. I had actually shut down my computer over the holiday, which I don't usually do, even over the weekend, and I must have had sixty-five emails. Most of them were from listservs I belonged to. I scanned the subject lines and read two or three of them. I chuckled at a couple of funny ones my mom had sent me, but they weren't good enough to forward to anybody.
       Promptly at nine, there was a knock on my door. I got up to answer it. I figured it was Andrew Callaway. He is in management, and I could surely do him the courtesy of answering the door.
       "Andrew? Come in," I said, shaking his hand.
       "Refreshments?" Cheryl asked.
       I nodded to her.
       "Have a seat, Andrew. Did you have a good Christmas?" I asked.
       "No, I'm afraid I didn't," he said.
       Oh, shit, I thought.
       "I'm sorry to hear that," I said.
       "Mr. Mashburn, I'm going to get right to the point. You know I'm gay, right?" he said.
       "Well, no, actually I didn't," I said. I wondered where that was going.
       "Well, I am. And my partner of eight years is dying of AIDS," he said.
       Oh, shit, I thought.
       "Do you have any idea of how much time he has?" I asked.
       "The doctor says a month, but I think it's probably much less than that. The thing is, I've used up all my sick days and all my 'personal time off' days, too. I came to beg. I'm desperate, Sir. I can't afford to not have my salary. His medical bills are outrageous, and on Friday we got an eviction notice from our landlord. I want him to die with dignity at home, and I don't know where to turn," he said, and then he dissolved into tears.
       I got up from behind my desk and sat next to him on the sofa that is across from my desk. I put my arm around him. He was trembling and sobbing. I held him like that until he calmed down.
       "Do you know that I'm family?" I asked.
       "Family?" he asked.
       "I'm gay, too, Andrew. And please call me Rick," I said.
       He looked at me like he was shocked.
       "Really?" he asked.
       "Yeah, really. And so is Kevin Foley. Do you know who he is?" I asked.
       "The hotel guy?"
       "Yeah. Exactly. He's my husband," I said.
       The look on his face was unbelievable. I almost wished Kyle were there with his camera.
       "Ohhhh," he said. "Ohhhh. This is such a relief."
       "Yeah, and Mr. Goodson had two sons, both gay. Kyle, the younger one, lives with us, along with seven other gay boys," I said. "The older son is dead."
       "AIDS?" he asked.
       "No. Some kind of medical accident. What's your guy's name?" I asked.
       "Trey. Trey Hudson," he said.
       "Andrew, we have a room for you guys in our house," I said. "Is it 'Andrew' or 'Andy?'"
       "'Andy,'" he said.
       "Andy, this is going to sound crass as hell, but I want you to think about this. Kyle has a fantastic penthouse condominium, and I know you guys could stay there free for as long as you need to. He also has a bunch of rental properties that I know he'd let you stay in, rent free. But I would really like for you guys to stay at our house. I think our boys would benefit from knowing you and Trey, and I think they need to be at his bedside when he dies. I hope you don't think that's morbid," I said.
       "You said, but I don't remember. How many gay boys are in that house?" Andy asked.
       "Ten, counting Kevin and me," I said.
       "That could be Trey's legacy to the world, Rick. Don't expect a speech from him, though, okay? He can barely talk to me, and not every day. We would love that, though. Thank you so much," he said, and then the tears took over.
       Andy and I worked out the details of the transfer to our house. I ordered a hospital bed from a local medical supply house, and I had them set it up in the study, downstairs. I checked it all out with Kevin, of course, before they moved in.
       "You knew, didn't you?" Kevin said.
       "Knew what?" I said.
       "That our house is the perfect place for them," he said.
       "Well, they're being evicted," I said.
       "You said 'yes' for the kids, didn't you?"
       "Yeah, I did, Kevin. I don't want them dying of AIDS," I said. "Maybe seeing Trey will put the fear of God in them." I was weeping.
       "Come here," he said.
       I walked over to him, and he grabbed me up in a big hug.
       "Rick, you did exactly what I would have done. And you know it. You project this tough, macho, Ironman exterior, but inside there's nothing but a heart of gold, is there?" Kevin said.
       "I don't know, but I can't stand the idea of one of my brothers dying in a hotel room, or someplace worse. The kids are going to be freaked out by a man dying of AIDS in our house, but they need to be freaked out. Trey is only thirty-two years old. That's very young to die, to me. I hate it for him, but if it does our boys some good, then maybe his life will have a little more meaning," I said.
       "Yes, it will," Kevin said.
       * * *
       The week after Trey and Andy moved in with us was sort of surreal. The hospice people were there every day, and they took care of bathing him and shaving him and all of those kinds of things. Andy was in there with Trey all the time, and there was at least one of our boys in there with Andy and Trey almost every minute. We gave permission for Tim and Brian to miss some school because of the importance we placed on their being there. The month the doctor had predicted was really only a little more than a week. When we knew the end was near, we all gathered in his room. Andy was in the bed with him, holding him.
       It was almost over.
       Kyle started the song.

               "Be not afraid,
               "I go before you always,
               "Come, follow me,
               "And I will give you rest."

       There were enough of us who knew that song from church that we were able to sing it through to the end.

               "And if wicked men,
               "Insult and hate you,
               "All because of Me,
               "Blesséd, Blesséd are you."
               "Be not afraid,
               "I go before you always,
               "Come, follow me,
               "And I will give you rest."

       With the final word of the hymn, the monitors that were hooked to Trey started beeping, and he was gone.
       I'm not a religious guy at all. I was raised Catholic, but I more or less don't believe much of whatever they believe. I just go to church because Kevin wants to, and I put up with being Catholic because Kevin is and his family is. I want to be a good person, and I've never known any better people then them. I guess I'm kind of a Catholic by default. That song that night moved me deeply, though.
       The boys all looked terribly confused and concerned when the beeping started. A hospice worker was in the den, and she came in and turned off the noise. Andy kissed Trey gently on the lips, and he got out of bed.
       * * *
       Andy had had plenty of time to make all the funeral arrangements. There wasn't going to be a viewing, and Trey was to be cremated. All we did was call the mortuary to come and get the body.
       I had a kind of stunned feeling, and Andy just sat and stared blankly into space. He wasn't even crying.
       "What can we do, Andy?" Kevin asked.
       "My God, you've done so much already," he said. "I won't ever be able to repay you."
       "Don't even think about that," I said.
       "He's at peace now, and so am I. I've had a few months to become reconciled with what was going to happen. Now it's just a question of putting my own life back together. We lived together for eight years. Rick, when I went to see you, you told me that Kevin is your husband. Trey and I never had a formal commitment ceremony or anything, but he was my husband, too. We were soul mates, just as the two of you are," Andy said.
       "How long had he been sick?" I asked.
       "He's been HIV positive since he was nineteen. At first the drugs worked well, but about six months ago he went from being positive to full-blown AIDS. He's been in a steady decline since then," he said.
       "Nineteen?" I said, looking at Justin and Kyle.
       "Yes. He was infected by his first boyfriend. He was just a sophomore in college at the time," he said. "The doctors aren't sure exactly what happened for the condition to develop into AIDS, but evidently it happens that way sometimes."
       Kyle got up to make coffee and came back into the den.
       "The coffee will be ready in a few minutes," he said.
       I knew he was desperate to do something, but there just wasn't anything to do but wait for the people from the funeral home.
       I glanced at my watch, and it was five o'clock in the afternoon.
       "Well, guys, again, thank you for all you've done. I'll be out of here in a day or so, if that's all right," Andy said.
       "No, I'm afraid it's not all right. You're going to stay here until you can get your head above water. Where are you going to go?" Kevin said.
       "I don't know, but I can't impose on you any more than I already have," Andy said.
       "Andy, look. Be realistic. There are ten of us here already. Do you honestly think eleven is going to be an imposition?" I said.
       "What about your furniture? That's still in your apartment, right? Or where is it?" Kevin asked.
       "We were living in a furnished apartment. We sold all our furniture a few months ago. We brought all of our clothes and personal effects with us. Most of that stuff is still in the trunk of my car," Andy said.
       "Well, bring that stuff inside because you're not going anywhere but up to the third floor of this house," I said. "Around here, we consider all gay people to be our brothers and sisters, especially the ones who live here. You're our newest brother. How old are you, by the way?"
       "I'll be thirty-one in about a month," he said.
       "He's too old to be your little brother, Rick," Justin said. "You and Kevin ain't the only grown-ups around here anymore."
       "Does Trey have family that need to be notified?" Kevin asked, ignoring Justin.
       "He hasn't had any contact with his family since I've known him. He has a cousin, who's also gay, and Trey asked me to call him when it was time. I've never met the man. I'll call him later, if you don't mind," he said. "I'll need to call my parents, too."
       "Feel free to make yourself completely at home," I said. "You're not alone, and don't ever forget that. We're your family now."
       He set down his coffee cup, and, for the first time since we were in my office the week before, he cried.
       "It seems like we ought to do something, but I don't know what to do," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, why don't a couple of you guys give Andy a hand with the stuff that's in his car. They should be here for Trey any minute," Kevin said.
       "Okay. Sure," Kyle said. "Give me your car keys, and we'll get the stuff, Andy. Does the room he's in matter?"
       "Put him in the new one that's empty," I said.
       * * *
       The people from the funeral home called twice from the hearse to ask for directions to the house. The second time I almost got annoyed and told the guy off, but I kept my cool. Maybe the guy was like Kevin and really didn't know the difference between north and south.
       The boys drifted away, and Kevin and I went into Trey's room with Andy when the funeral home people got there. It was rather emotional for all of us. Andy held up better than Kevin and I did, though, and we hadn't even known Trey.
       "Are you going to ride into town with them?" Kevin asked.
       "No. Absolutely everything's been done that can be done. They're going to fly him to Jacksonville for the cremation, and I should have his ashes in about a week," Andy said.
       We walked Trey to the front door, and Andy had his hand on Trey's chest the whole time. As the men were gliding the body into the hearse, Andy, tears coursing down his face, whispered, "Goodbye, my love." The driver shut the door, and they were gone in less than a minute.
       "Andy, I wish I had the words to . . " Kevin started to say. He got choked up, though, and couldn't finish.
       "I know, Kevin," Andy said. "Do you think it all had any effect on the boys?"
       "I don't think there'll be any unsafe sex among those guys," I said.
       "Lose one to save eight? That helps me," Andy said. "And I know it would have helped Trey, too, if he had been able to comprehend what was happening."
       "Tomorrow I'll have my secretary call the newspaper to see what has to be done about an obituary," I said.
       "The funeral home will take care of that. That was part of the pre-need arrangements. It was just an option, but, since he was so close to the end, I went ahead and did it," Andy said. "But thank you, Rick. Thank you for everything."
       "That's the last time I want to hear you say that, okay?" I said as gently as I knew how.
       He smiled shyly and nodded.
       "Let's go see your new abode," Kevin said.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       The night Trey died, it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop around our house. Tim and I stayed in our room. I had just started back to school, and I really didn't have any school work to do. I looked through my comparative religions textbook. It actually has pictures in it, and some of it is pretty cool looking. Tim was on the computer.
       "It's pretty sad about Trey, isn't it?" I said.
       "Yeah. I'd never known anybody who had AIDS before, had you?"
       "Nope. He's the first, and I hope he's the last one, too," I said.
       "Kyle, I know you believe as strongly in monogamy as I do . . . " Tim started to say something, but stopped.
       "Don't worry, Babe. It's never happening to us. I don't doubt I'd enjoy sex with another guy, probably, but every part of me belongs to you, and to you alone," I said. "I don't think I'm as horny as I used to be."
       "You couldn't prove that by me," Tim said, kind of laughing a little bit.
       "Oh, I know I am with you. I meant in general," I said.
       "I don't get what you mean," Tim said.
       "Okay, here's a 'for instance.' I used to get hard just by looking at guys on the beach. They didn't even have to be cute, either. That doesn't happen anymore. Or maybe I don't let it happen or something. I don't know. I just know it doesn't happen like it used to," I said. "All you have to do is touch me, or just look at me like you do sometimes."
       "How do I look at you that makes you aroused?" Tim asked.
       "Like you're doing right now, that's how. Cut it out, Tim. You're boning me up," I said.
       "What if I came over and did this?" he said.
       He crossed over from the computer to the bed and started rubbing the inside of my right thigh.
       I moaned a little bit.
       "You think it's right for us to do this? With Trey and all, I mean?" I said.
       "To tell you the truth, I don't think Trey cares," Tim said.
       "Well, get in bed, then, before I shoot in these clothes," I said.
       We made love a lot earlier that night than we usually do, and that's exactly what it was. Making love.
       * * *
       "Hello," I said, answering my phone.
       "Kyle, it's Cliff Andrews."
       "Hey, Mr. Cliff. What's going on?" I asked.
       "We rented your first property for you, Kyle," he said.
       "Really? Which one?"
       "One of the condos. The one on the fourth floor," he said.
       "Cool. Snow Birds?"
       "Yeah. They're going to be in it through the second week of March. We're fixing to start running ads in college newspapers for Spring Break, too, so we ought to have 'em all booked solid for the seven weeks of Break, at least."
       "Did you meet the people?"
       "No, one of my associates showed the place. They're people from Michigan, and one of their sons and his friend are going to be coming down for the month of February. I wonder if the son and his friend are like you guys," Mr. Cliff said.
       "What you mean? Gay?" I asked.
       "Yeah," he said.
       "Could be. We're everywhere, you know," I said.
       He laughed. "Kyle, when I was your age, if somebody had said I'd some day be proud of my gay sons, I'd have called him a damn liar. And knocked him down, too, probably. I guess we all change, though," he said.
       "Sons? Who else is gay?" I thought I had stumbled on a scoop here.
       "Ryan," he said.
       "Oh, him. I thought you meant one of your other boys is gay," I said.
       "Not that I know of. I think they both pretty much like the ladies. But it wouldn't matter if they were, that's for damn sure."
       "Mr. Cliff, changing the subject, do you think I ought to go see the renters? Just to say hello, and all?"
       "That's not a bad idea, Kyle, especially with these Snow Birds. You won't have time to do that for Break or the summer 'cause it'll be too many, but the Snow Birds tend to come back year after year, for several weeks at a time. Any little thing you can do like that to make them feel at home and welcome is good. It'll help with your repeat business, that's for sure," he said.
       "I might make 'em a coffee cake. I can make some pretty good ones," I said.
       "That's a great idea. 'Course, that's the South. That's the way we do. You ought to get all the money you need for three months' payments out of these people, on that one, at least. We'll rent those other two condos, too. Probably not the houses, though. Of course, I can't make promises . . . "
       "Oh, yes, sir, I know about that, and I don't expect you to," I said.
       "Speaking of the houses, have they started the painting on that one?"
       "Tell you the truth, I don't know."
       "Swing by there when you get time, just to make sure it's underway and all. You know those guys, don't you?"
       "I know the youngest son . . . "
       "Well, he's in college, but it's his older brother and his daddy. If you don't know them, you know the family, and you know pretty much everybody they know," he said.
       "Did the older brother go to Beachside? Could he have been in Clay and Ronnie's class?" I asked. Ronnie is Mr. Cliff's middle son.
       "He might have been in Clay and Ronnie's class at some point, but he dropped out of school pretty young. He's not the sharpest pencil in the box, if you know what I mean," he said.
       I laughed.
       "The younger one is kind of dumb, too. Mr. Cliff, I hate to break this off, but I've got to get to class. Thank you for everything you've done for me on this deal. I really appreciate it," I said.
       "Kyle, you realize I'm making money on this thing, don't you?"
       "Yes, sir, and I want you to, but do you call everybody who rents a property?"
       He laughed.
       "No, you're right. I only call the ones who spent as much time in my house as they did in their own house when they were growing up. By the way, Philip told me y'all got some awesome bird dogs. Ryan said Brian and Mack Mixon trained their Springers, too. I'd like to see those dogs work," Mr. Cliff said.
       "I'm going Saturday. You want to go?" I said. I had no more plans for going hunting Saturday than I did for sucking Mr. Cliff's dick, but what could I say?
       "I can make it. Are you sure that's okay?" he asked.
       "Oh, hell, yeah. My daddy's going, too, and that damn Justin has just about turned into a huntin' fool. That's all he and Brian want to do. I'll get back to you about the details. I'll call Philip, but you call him, too. That boy doesn't check his messages, and he don't read his email, either. I hate to break this news to you about your son, Mr. Cliff, but that's the truth," I said.
       He was laughing his ass off at me, and I was sort of laughing, too.
       "Kyle, you've got to go, and I do, too. You get your ass to class, you hear me? Bye, and I love you, son," he said.
       "Bye, Mr. Cliff, I love you, too."
       Driving to class, I thought about that conversation with Mr. Cliff. I'd have to call the renters to see when I could come over. I'd have to make a coffee cake. Naw, I'd make two. I'd have to go see them. I'd have to go check on the painting at that one house. I'd have to call Philip, or try to. I'd have to call my daddy to make sure he'd go hunting. I'd have to talk to Tim, Justin, and Brian about going hunting, but that would be easy to do. I'd have to call Mr. Pat Pettis, Ryan's daddy, to invite him to go hunting, with his Springer spaniels. I thought Springers were just duck dogs, but I guess I was wrong.
       Well, I reckon I better get started, I thought.
       I had Philip's Tallahassee number on speed dial, so I pressed the number.
       "Hello." Damn, it was Philip.
       "I ain't fucking believing I actually got you on the fucking phone," I said.
       He laughed.
       "Believe it. What do you want?"
       "I just had a long phone call with your daddy. He had some very nice things to say about you and Ryan, too," I said.
       "What'd he say?"
       "I ain't telling you," I said.
       "Goddamn it, Kyle, tell me what he fucking said," Philip said, close to screaming.
       I laughed, but I didn't say anything.
       "Goodson, if you don't tell me what he said, the next time I see you, I'm kicking your fucking ass. And you can take that all the way to the bank," Philip said.
       "What he said was . . . hold on." I needed two hands to drive the damn truck right at that point, so I put my phone in the shotgun seat. I heard him screaming my name from where the phone was.
       "I'm back. The traffic's a bitch, and I needed both hands. Sorry," I said.
       "What'd he say?"
       "He said that when he was my age, if some guy had said he would one day be proud of his gay sons [and I really emphasized that word], he would have kicked the guy's ass. Then he said, 'I guess people change.'"
       "He said that? For real?"
       "Yeah. Then I thought maybe one of your brothers had come out over Christmas or something, so I asked him about that. He said, no, 'sons' meant Philip and Ryan. Is that too cool, or what?"
       There was only dead silence for a few seconds.
       "Philip? You there?" I asked.
       "Gimme a minute," Philip said.
       "What the hell's going on, Philip?"
       When he came back on, I could tell he was crying.
       "Are you crying, you little pussy?" I asked.
       "Yeah, I'm crying . . . because my father . . . just told you . . . "
       I heard him sobbing. I wished I was in his apartment right then so I could put my arms around my best friend.
       "He's proud of his sons, Philip and Ryan?"
       "That's what the man said," I said.
       There was a big pause.
       "Yes!" Philip said. "He thinks of you as a man because of that shit you bought. I really didn't know how he thought about Ryan and me till just now. He's never said that to us, Kyle. Thank you, my brother. Thank you," he said.
       "Well, that ain't why I called. I thought you knew that shit already," I said.
       "No, I didn't. Why did you call?"
       "'Cause we're going hunting Saturday at my daddy's lease in Vernon. Can y'all go?"
       "Is my daddy going?"
       "Yeah. That's the whole reason. I'm going to call Mr. Pat, too. And my daddy. I want to see Mr. Pat's Springers. I don't think there's a better dog in the world than a Lab, but I want to see what those Springers can do," I said.
       "They're damn good dogs, Kyle. I think Brian helped train 'em," Philip said.
       "Yeah, I know he did. I've just never hunted Springers before. We'll see. Look, I'm getting close to the end of the bridge, so I'm going to need to go. See you Saturday, eight o'clock, sharp. Okay? And remember, Vernon's in Central, not Eastern."
       "Yeah, we'll be there," Philip said.
       "Do you know how to get to the lease?"
       "Yeah, I think so, but keep your cell on, okay?" Philip said.
       "Will do. Bye, Philip. I love you, Buddy," I said.
       "Bye. I love you, too," he said, and we hung up.
       I went to my class, and it was boring as shit. All I could think about was hunting on Saturday with my friends. Mr. Cliff had kind of tricked me into setting that up, but I was very glad he did because that was going to be fun.
       After my class, I went to the cafeteria in the Student Union to get some more coffee and to hang out until my next class. I called my daddy.
       "Hello," he said.
       "Hey, what you doing this Saturday?"
       "From the way you said that, I reckon I'm doing something with you."
       "That's right. You're hunting," I said.
       "Who's going?"
       "Well, so far, Mr. Cliff, Philip, Ryan, and me. Probably Tim, Justin, and Brian, too, but I haven't talked to those last three, yet."
       "What about Pat Pettis? I understand he's got some excellent Springer Spaniels that are awesome bird dogs," Daddy said. "I think Brian helped Mack Mixon train them."
       "Yes, sir. He's on my list to call, and Brian did help train them. We're going to meet at the lease at eight. Do you want to ride with us?" I asked.
       "No. There's a guy here I've made friends with, Kyle. I want to invite him. He's my first real friend here in Destin," Daddy said.
       "That's cool. Is that Mr. Stout?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Dick Stout. Do you know him?"
       "No, sir, but have you thought about his name?"
       "Thought about his name?" Daddy said.
       There was a longish pause.
       "Oh, God! No, I hadn't thought about that. You are so gay, Kyle," he said.
       "Have I ever denied it?"
       "No, and you know I don't care. He won't either, if he wants to be my friend. I don't know how I got two gay sons. I guess it was just luck," he said.
       "They say it might be in the genes, Daddy," I said.
       "But I don't wear jeans. Never have," he said.
       I laughed.
       "It's your mother's side, Kyle. Tainted. Charleston. You know," he said.
       "Daddy, have you been drinking?"
       "No, I haven't touched a drop. You know that. I'm still at work."
       "I never touch a drop, either, Daddy," I said.
       "Unless it's Christmas Eve," he said.
       "You saw that?"
       "Hell, Son, we were standing next to each other at the bar, ordering drinks," he said.
       "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," I said.
       "Kyle, I need to go, okay?"
       "Me, too. I love you, Daddy," I said.
       "I love you, too. Bye," he said. "See you Saturday."
       This thing was starting to shape up.
       I called Mr. Pat's office, told him what was up, and he was all about going.
       Justin came up just then and plopped down at my table.
       "Where you been?" I asked. We have all the same classes, but I lost him when my last class let out.
       "I was talking to somebody," he said.
       "Who were you talking to?"
       "Paul Womack. I hadn't seen him in a while. He laid out last semester. This is his third year here," he said.
       "You want to go hunting Saturday?" I asked.
       "Yeah. I was already planning to. Me, Brian, and Tim. Tim didn't say anything to you about that?"
       "No. When were y'all going to tell me? Friday night at eleven o'clock?"
       "Look, don't get pissed off at me. I ain't your boyfriend. If you're going to be pissed off about it, be pissed off at Tim," he said.
       "He must have forgot," I said.
       "You refuse to get pissed off at Tim, don't you?"
       "I get pissed off at him sometimes," I said.
       "This is a stupid conversation, if you ask me. But, yeah, we're all going hunting on Saturday," he said.
       "Good," I said, and I told him who else was going.
       "I've got to go check on one of my houses after our next class. Do you want to go?" I asked.
       "Sure," he said. "What's wrong with it?"
       "Nothing. I just want to see if they've started painting it yet," I said.
       "Oh, okay."
       They had almost finished painting the outside, and it looked 100% better than it did before. The inside was next. Mr. Cliff was right. I know the whole damn family. The boy working there is usually trifling as shit, but he was doing a good job painting the house.
       * * *
       I called the people who are renting the condo, and they said it would be cool for me to come over. The night before the visit, I made two coffee cakes for them and two for us, too. Tim went with me to meet them.
       "Hi, I'm Kyle Goodson. I called last night about coming over," I said.
       They are really nice people, and Tim and I stayed and visited with them for about thirty minutes. They live in the Detroit area, and they have two sons. One is "happily married" and has two children, and the other one is "happily partnered."
       "Is the second one gay?" I asked.
       "Yes, he is. He and his partner will be here in a couple of weeks," the man said.
       "Cool," I said.
       They really liked the coffee cakes I took them, or at least the idea I had made them and brought them over. They said they'd freeze one of them for when the other two guys got there. I wondered why they wanted a three-bedroom instead of a two, but I didn't ask. It turns out, though, the other son and his family were coming down, too. That's when they would need the three bedrooms.
       "Kyle, may I ask you a personal question?" the man said.
       "Sure. I don't know if I'll answer it, but you can ask it," I said.
       "How old are you?"
       "How old do you think I am?" I asked. I wanted to play with him a little bit.
       "I don't know. Twenty-three, twenty-four?"
       I looked at Tim, and I was grinning big.
       "You're going to give him a swelled head," Tim said.
       "No, sir. I'm nineteen," I said.
       "And you own this place?" he asked, kind of like he was surprised.
       "Me and the bank. Mostly the bank, at this point," I said.
       "I have a premonition that you're going to turn into a smart businessman, son. Congratulations," he said.
       "That's my goal, I guess. To be like my daddy. Ain't that every boy's goal?" I said.
       "Kyle," he said, real serious like. "I'm afraid not every boy has a daddy that would be worthy of emulation. You're one of the lucky ones, son. Make this boy happy." He put his hand on Tim's shoulder when he said that.
       "You know about us?" I asked. I was almost speechless, and I could tell Tim was surprised as hell, too.
       "I can see the love between you boys, son. I've been in love with my wife for over thirty-five years, so I know what it looks like. I see that same look of love with both my sons and their life partners. It's universal, for those with eyes to see it. Good luck, young men, but I have the distinct impression you've already had plenty of that. We'll call you when our two gay sons get here. I think you'll like them," he said.
       "If I'd have known we'd get this, I sure would have made a lot more than a couple of damn coffee cakes," I said.
       "Kyle, no landlord welcomes renters with a personal visit and coffee cakes. Nobody," the lady said. "This means a great deal to us. Believe me."
       "Well, I'm glad you like 'em. I hope they're fit to eat," I said.
       "She might just have to have one of them bronzed," the man said.
       I didn't know what that meant, but the lady laughed, so I did, too. So did Tim.
       "Well, I guess we need to go, so y'all can get on with unpacking and whatnot. Everything in the house works good, so you shouldn't have any problems with that. And I really would like to meet your sons," I said.
       "And we'd like them to meet you. Goodbye, boys," the man said.
       "They knew we're a couple," Tim said, once we were in the car.
       "Tim, we do NOT act gay. People have told me that repeatedly when they found out about us," I said.
       "They didn't say we act gay, whatever the hell that means. They said they could see the love between us. Do you know what that means to me, Kyle?" Tim said.
       "No. What?"
       "Everything."

Chapter 05

(Justin's Perspective)
       I don't know what has come over me about bird hunting this fall and winter, but I have fallen into it big time. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Brian helped train Trixie and Krewe to be top-notch bird dogs. Plus, it's just fun being in the fields with Brian and the dogs. Don't get me wrong. Brian and I love being at home with all of our brothers, but sometimes we just like to be alone, just each other. You know? Sometimes he and I make love out in the field, and the dogs seem to know not to mess with us when we're doing that. But mostly it is about being alone with my boy, in his element. Just being together without the others around.
       Sometimes Mr. Mack goes out with us, usually in the afternoons, after Brian's school day is done. He gets off at 2:30, so we have plenty of time to hunt. Mr. Mack brings out some new dogs that he is training, and Brian keeps Trixie and Krewe back while the new dogs work. He goes off with Mr. Mack to train the new dogs. It's like Mr. Mack is training Brian how to train the new dogs. That damn boy of mine is getting a skill he'll have for a lifetime. How to train dogs to hunt. Brian loves it, too. There are some very cute moments with those dogs, and I can see how Brian and Mr. Mack could love them so much.
       Kyle put together this hunting trip for the weekend that was smack dab in the middle of January. We got us a new boy--Todd--right after Christmas, and then Andy and Trey came to our house right after that. Trey's dying has been a pretty damn big eye-opener for all of us, and I guess, for the first time in my life, I have gotten the full impact of what AIDS can do to a person. Andy is in a hell of a lot better shape than I would be in if I lost my Brian, but he didn't go hunting with us. It was basically just me, Brian, Kyle and Tim from our house. But that wasn't all, by a long shot.
       Mr. Gene and his friend, Mr. Dick, and Mr. Dick's son went, too. Philip and Ryan and their daddies went. Doc--Tim's daddy--went, but he was just along for the fellowship. He doesn't hunt.
       "I'm sorry. We ain't waiting for 'em," Kyle said.
       It was ten minutes to eight, and Philip and Ryan weren't there yet. They had to drive about a hundred miles to get there from Tallahassee.
       "You don't want to wait for your best friend, Kyle?" Mr. Gene asked.
       Mr. Gene had a little grin on his face when he said that, so I knew that was fun fixing to happen.
       Just then, Kyle's phone rang.
       "What?" he shouted into the phone.
       His phone has a speakerphone function, and he turned it on so we could all hear.
       "Don't you dare fucking leave us, you son of a bitch," Philip screamed into the phone.
       "Well, if you ain't here on time, what are we supposed to do? Wait all day?"
       "You better wait for us, you mother fucker. If you don't, Ryan's Springers are going to have a feast on your ass tonight. I mean that, Kyle," Philip said.
       "Philip, I hate to tell you this, but the male Springer is licking my balls right now through my camos," Kyle said. "Those dogs will never eat me up, Philip," Kyle said.
       All three Springers were still in the truck.
       "I hate you so bad, I wanna kill you, Kyle," Philip said.
       Mr. Gene, Mr. Cliff, and Mr. Pat were laughing so hard at them they could barely breathe. I think Doc and Mr. Dick and Mr. Dick's son didn't know what to think.
       "Where are you, anyway?" Kyle demanded.
       "I don't know. Some Godforsaken country road. I don't know where I am," Philip said.
       All of a sudden, this pickup truck slammed to a stop right behind where we were, spreading dust and gravel everywhere.
       "Oh, now I see where I am. I'm up your ass. Got you last, Kyle," Philip said.
       I saw Kyle check his watch, and I checked mine, too. It was three minutes to eight.
       "Shit, he made it," Kyle said. "He did get me last."
       We all laughed.
       That's the way the weekend started. Kyle and Philip gave each other big hugs, and then everybody hugged and shook hands and all of that, all around. That was a damn joyous group of men and boys that morning. The first thing Philip and Ryan did after they got done greeting everybody was step off to the side to piss. They must have unloaded a gallon, and they probably drilled six-inch holes in the ground, from what it sounded like.
       Mr. Dick brought his son with him. His name is Sammy, and Mr. Gene introduced us all to him. His full name is Sammy Stout, but he told us his name was Sam Stout, when we shook hands with him.
       Somehow, a day's hunting had turned into a weekend of hunting since Kyle had first set it up, and we were going to camp out that night on the lease.
       About four o'clock in the afternoon of that first day, two boys showed up, one black, one white. Their job was to dress the birds for us. Every other time, I had dressed every bird me and Brian had ever shot, and I figured Kyle and Tim had, too. That was a real luxury, though. Not to have to fool with doing that shit.
       At one point, when they didn't know anybody was looking, they turned to each other and gave each other a little kiss on the lips. Whoa!
       When I turned around, Mr. Gene was right behind me.
       "Did you see that?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Did it look familiar?" he asked.
       I'm sure I blushed.
       "Mr. Gene, I . . . "
       "Shut up, Justin. Those are local boys, and they don't get a chance to spend much time together. You know what that's all about, don't you?" Mr. Gene said.
       "Yes, sir, I reckon I do," I said. "Come on, Brian, let's dress some birds."
       "What?" Brian said.
       "I said, come on, let's dress some birds." We walked to the table where the guys were working. "Y'all take about a thirty minute break, okay," I said to them. "In private."
       They grinned so big I just about saw their stomachs. They scampered off. They didn't know I wasn't the boss.
       "What am I doing here?" Brian asked.
       He hadn't ever done that before because I always did it. He had watched me a bunch of times, but he had always watched like he was watching a biology experiment or something. He wanted to dissect the birds, not clean 'em.
       "You peel the skin off the bird. Watch me," I said, and I showed him how to do it. "This ain't school, Brian. This ain't biology lab."
       He laughed.
       "Shut up," he said.
       I cut one of the toes off a quail and held it up.
       "You see this? You know what it is?" I asked him.
       "No. What?"
       "It's his dick. It's about the size of yours," I said.
       He was laughing so hard he couldn't stand still.
       "But mine's bigger than yours, remember?" he said.
       "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."
       Brian screamed with laughter.
       Kyle saw us having fun, so, naturally, he came over to the table.
       "What the hell are y'all doing?" he demanded, full grumble.
       "Dressing these birds. What the hell does it look like?" I grumbled back.
       "My daddy hired two boys to do that. Where are they? Did they quit?" he asked.
       "They're taking a break. They're in the woods, fucking," I said.
       "For real?" he asked.
       "Well, I don't know for real, but they sure looked like they wanted to. I saw 'em kiss," I said. "One's black and the other's white. Your daddy said they don't get to spend too much time together."
       "Damn, y'all, that's mighty nice of you all," Kyle said.
       "I know. There's another knife. Get busy," I said.
       "Okay. Let's do an assembly line," he said. "One cuts off the head and feet, one skins 'em, the last one guts 'em and washes 'em. We really need a fourth guy to make this go fast." He whistled that shrill whistle of his. "Philip. Get over here. Now."
       "What's up?" Philip asked.
       "Lend a hand," Kyle said.
       "Where are the guys they hired to do this?" Philip asked.
       "They're in the woods, fucking," Kyle said.
       "Say what?"
       "You heard me. They're in the woods fucking. Philip, you gut. Brian, you wash. You're too slow gutting, Brian. This ain't the science lab, Bubba. You're going to have plenty of time to do that in college. You should see how slow he guts fish. This is production work right here, not learning," Kyle said.
       "How do you know what those guys are doing, Goodson?" Philip asked.
       "Look, they're a little gay couple, okay? Thirteen, fourteen years old. They don't have much time alone together. The white boy can't say, 'Hey, Mama and Daddy, I'm going down to the Quarters to have sex with my boyfriend, okay?' And the black boy can't knock on the white boy's front door and say, 'Hi, Mr. and Mrs., your boy and I have a date tonight. Is he ready?' It just can't happen in a place like Vernon, Florida. That's why we're helping 'em out," Kyle said.
       "I don't mind dressing these things. God knows I've done enough of 'em. In fact, I kind of like it. Especially when I get one that's still warm, you know?" His voice got real sexy like. "Feeling those soft, warm, gushy guts in my hands. I'm about to come in my pants right now, and I've only done three so far," Philip said.
       I glanced over at his crotch, and there wasn't even a sign of a hard-on. In those tight camos he was wearing, I could have told easy, too, if he had had one.
       "You are a sick motherfucker, Philip," Kyle said.
       "I know, and they say it's contagious, too, Kyle. You better watch out," Philip said.
       Brian and I were laughing so hard we could barely do our jobs, but those two had totally straight faces.
       The other boys had done more than half of the birds, and we finished it up before they got back.
       "Let's let them pack 'em and ice 'em down," Kyle said. "They need to count 'em, anyway. They get fifty cents a bird, and they probably need the money."
       Mr. Gene came over to the table when we were finishing up.
       "What are y'all doing? Where are those two boys?" he asked.
       "They're off on some private business for me, Mr. Gene," I said.
       "Private business? What kind of private bus . . . ?" Then his face lit up in a big grin. "Okay. Are they coming back?"
       "Yes, sir, in fact, here they come right now," I said.
       "Y'all count these birds up, bag 'em, and ice 'em. Y'all coming back tomorrow?" he asked the two boys.
       "Yes, sir," they said together.
       "Three thirty," Mr. Gene said. "We want to get away from here before dark tomorrow. Let me know when y'all are finished here, and I'll take you home."
       "Yes, sir," they both said.
       "Okay. Y'all get busy. I haven't had a drink yet, and I'm dying for one," Mr. Gene said, and he walked off.
       "Thanks, y'all," the black kid said. "We needed that break."
       He didn't talk like black people usually do. He sounded more like Tim and Brian. He was a little bit girlish, though.
       "We knew you did, and we were happy to do it," I said.
       "You from around here?" Kyle asked the black kid.
       "Yes, unfortunately," he said.
       "Do y'all ever get down to Emerald Beach?" Kyle asked.
       "Not very often, but sometimes," the black kid said.
       "Who's got paper and pencil?" Kyle asked.
       "Why? You want to take notes?" Philip asked.
       "No, dumbass. I want to give 'em my name and phone number, so they can give us a fucking call the next time they're in Emerald Beach. God, Philip, you are so . . . "
       "I've got some," Brian said.
       He took off at a trot to Kyle's car. I watched him go through his backpack and come back with a little pad and a pen. He gave them to Kyle, and Kyle wrote something on the pad. He tore off the top sheet and then tore that in half. He gave a half to each guy.
       "Y'all hold on to that and call me when you come to town for fun. That's my cell number, and I always got it on me," Kyle said.
       The white boy took out a wallet and put the paper in there. The black boy just shoved his in the pocket of his jeans.
       "Y'all better get going on this stuff so my daddy can have him a drink when he gets back from taking y'all home," Kyle said. "We'll see you tomorrow, okay? Oh, and by the way, every one of us is just as queer as you."
       It was already dark, of course, but we had a Coleman lantern we were working by. When Kyle said that, they both grinned so big their teeth just about blinded us in the reflection from the lantern.
       * * *
       That night we ate steak and grilled lobsters that Kyle and Philip had caught. And potatoes and corn and shit like that. Salad. Kyle was in charge of the food, so you know it was good and plentiful. I think the corn had been blanched and frozen from last summer, and it wasn't quite as sweet as fresh corn usually is. But he had finished cooking it on the grill, and it was good. It was my favorite, in fact.
       Trixie and Krewe had done awesome that day in the field, so Kyle cooked 'em up a couple of steaks each. I don't know what the Springers ate, but they were already in the dog box in Mr. Pat's truck. Those Springers are very good dogs in the field, but they aren't as tame or well trained as our dogs are. Ours stayed with us; the others got the kennel on the truck.
       "Watch this," Brian said.
       He held up an ear of corn to Trixie, and she started eating it off the cob, just like a person would.
       "Whoa! I've never seen a dog eat corn right off the cob like that," Mr. Gene said. "Did you teach her to do that?"
       "Yes, sir," Brian said.
       Then he did the same thing with Krewe. Everybody was amazed, and ole Flash Goodson was getting every bite they took on film.
       "Brian, I think you have a career as a dog trainer ahead of you," Mr. Dick said.
       Brian just grinned at him.
       "No, sir. He and Tim are going to be doctors. Me and Kyle are going to be businessmen," I said.
       Mr. Dick just kind of smiled. He didn't know how smart Brian and Tim are. Or how determined, either.
       "Okay. Y'all want to play charades tonight?" Kyle asked.
       "Sure," we all said.
       We had played that game at campouts before, and it was pretty much fun.
       "Okay, y'all make 'em as dirty as you can but still being real songs or movies or stuff like that," Kyle said.
       "What do you mean by 'dirty,' Son?" Mr. Gene asked.
       "He means suggestive, not really dirty," Tim said.
       We pulled straws to see which teams we would be on, and we played that silly game for a long time. We were around a campfire, and we had fun.
       By the time it was over, we were all half asleep. The old guys, and some of us younger ones, too, had been drinking whiskey a good bit. Everybody but Tim and Brian, of course, and we were sleepy.
       "One song, before we go to bed," Kyle said, and he started up "America the Beautiful."
       His voice was so pure and so clear that I just wanted to listen to him sing. But I joined in with the rest of them in a minute. What an unbelievable group of guys!

(Dick Stout's Perspective)
       Shortly after he moved to Destin from Emerald Beach, Gene Goodson transferred his membership and joined our Rotary Club. That club is more or less for the leaders of the community, and Gene certainly fits in because of his ownership and personal management of the largest hotel in town. He is a hell of a nice guy, too.
       I sat at his table at his first weekly luncheon meeting with us. He already knew a couple of the guys at the table, but he told the rest of us about himself.
       "I had two sons, but one of them died when he was twenty years old. In Shands Teaching Hospital at the University of Florida. Now, I just got the one, and he's nineteen," he said. "Both gay, by the way."
       That brought about a very awkward pause, as everybody stared at their plates.
       Finally, Tom Sanders spoke up.
       "My younger daughter is a lesbian," he said. "Did your son die of AIDS, Gene?"
       I was stunned. I have known Becky Sanders since she was two years old. Tom lives next door to us. Becky is a lesbian?
       "No, Tom. Clay died as a result of a medical accident. He had an allergic reaction to a drug they gave him for a migraine or something. But that was a couple of years ago," he said.
       That evening at dinner I asked my younger son, who is a high school senior, if there was anything out of the ordinary about Becky Sanders.
       "Out of the ordinary? What do you mean, Dad?" he asked.
       "Well, strange. Or different," I said.
       "She's a lesbian, if that's what you mean, but she's cool. She's one of my best friends," he said.
       "You're not, er . . . gay, are you?" I asked him.
       "No. You'd know it, if I was," he said. "Did Mr. Tom tell you Becky is queer?"
       "Son, please don't use that awful word in this house," my wife said.
       "What word? 'Queer?'" he asked.
       "Yes. That's derogatory. It's an insult," she said.
       "I know it used to be, but it's not anymore, Mama. That's what all my gay friends say about themselves," he said. "Pass the potatoes, please."
       "You have gay friends?" I asked him.
       "Of course I do, Daddy. You do, too, but you might not even know it," he said. "Unlike you guys, we don't care if they're gay."
       I have some catching up to do, that's for sure.
       Over the weeks and months, Gene and I have gotten to like each other. Our wives are active in local organizations, and they became friends independently. Rita Goodson is still pretty active in Emerald Beach, raising money for children's charities, but she and my wife hooked up and became friends.
       I knew of Gene Goodson's reputation, of course. I mean, Emerald Beach is only thirty minutes away from us, and the business people in both places know of one another, even if we haven't met in person.
       "Any of you guys hunt bird?" Gene asked at one of our weekly luncheons.
       "Birds? Shit! I go after the bucks," Mike McGuire said.
       "Well, I've got a lease on some bird land up in Washington County this year. If anybody wants to hunt bird, let me know," he said. "I've got access to two incredible Black Lab birddogs, too."
       "I can go," I said.
       "All right," Gene said, and we grinned at each other.
       I have a couple of Black Labs, too, but they're only fair hunting dogs. They are much more family pets, than anything. Gene and I went hunting several times that fall on his lease, and I know my dogs missed as many as they got. I had tried to train them myself, but I don't really know how to do it. I think their retriever instinct got us a lot more birds than my dog training did.
       One time Gene and I went up to his lease, and we met up with two boys who had dogs. Gene knew those boys very well, apparently, and we got us a mess of birds that day, thanks to those dogs.
       "Hey, it's me. Gene," he said, when I answered the phone in my office.
       "Hey. What's up?"
       "My son's organizing a hunting trip up to the lease for this weekend. Can you go?" Gene said.
       "Hell, yeah," I said.
       "Your boy, too, if he wants to," he said.
       He gave me the details about time and meeting place, and then he rang off.
       * * *
       I have a construction company and a land-development company in Destin. Unlike Gene Goodson, who inherited a lot of his stuff from his parents and grandparents, I started very small. I took some very big risks twenty years ago, when Destin wasn't anything more than a fishing village, and I have done very, very well. It would take three or four generations for me to be Gene's financial equal, probably, but I'm not a poor boy, by any means.
       Gene picked us up at six o'clock that Saturday morning.
       "Gene, this is my son, Sammy," I said.
       "Sam Stout," Sammy said, as he shook hands with Gene. I have to remember that. He's Sam now, not Sammy.
       "Nice to meet you, Sam. My boy's going to be there with us. Kyle Goodson," Gene said.
       "Why is his name familiar to me?" I asked.
       "I don't know. He and his boyfriend, Tim Murphy, saved a woman and her baby a couple of years ago during a hurricane. They got a good bit of publicity from that," Gene said. "Could that be it?"
       "Daddy, don't you remember? There was a story about them in Boy's Life Magazine. I showed it to you because their act of bravery happened so close to us," Sam said.
       "I do remember. As I recall, you were pretty excited about it, Sammy. Er, Sam. Didn't you call him up?" I said.
       "I didn't call him. I sent him email. His email address was in the article," Sam said.
       "Did that stinker write you back?" Gene asked.
       "Yes, sir, he sure did. I'm excited about meeting him," Sam said. "I hope he and Tim are still together."
       I was amazed at my son's attitude. He knows Kyle is gay. I mean, Gene had just referred to the other boy as Kyle's "boyfriend." I don't know how or when things changed, but it sure is different between his generation and mine, it seems.
       "Oh, yeah. They're still together. Those two are in it for life, I believe. And I couldn't be happier for Kyle," Gene said.
       "Gene and Sam, y'all are way ahead of me on this gay thing," I said. "Y'all are going to have to help me out a little bit, okay?"
       "I was the same way as you, Dick. That's the way we were raised. We couldn't help it. We didn't know any better," Gene said.
       "What made you change your attitude?" I asked.
       "Well, when two of the three most precious things in my life turned up gay, what was I going to do? Turn my back on my boys? I don't think so," Gene said.
       "When you put it that way, I can see your point," I said. "What made you so gay-friendly, Sam?"
       "My friends, Daddy. People I've known and loved all my life turned out to be gay. Like Mr. Gene said, you can't turn your back on those people. They mean too much to you," Sam said. "Besides, Kyle and Tim are heroes."
       "Who are some of your gay friends, Son?" I asked.
       He hesitated a few seconds. "Becky. Ander. Steve. Scott. Robert. Others, too. The names just aren't coming fast enough. Every one of them is out, too. I don't know how many of my friends are gay and not out."
       Whoa! I thought. Those are some of his oldest and closest friends. And the thing is, I would never have guessed it about any of them.
       "Is Matt gay?" I asked. Matt has been his best friend and soul brother since they were in preschool.
       "Oh, shit, no, Daddy. Matt ain't gay," Sam said.
       "Hey, watch the language, okay, boy?" I said.
       "Sorry," Sam said.
       "Dick, if you've got a problem with language, I gotta warn you, man. You're going to hear it this weekend from my boys, I'd bet," Gene said.
       "Your boys use bad language, too, Mr. Gene?" Sam asked.
       "Of course they do. They're boys, aren't they? And unless I'm badly mistaken, your daddy did, too, when he was y'all's age," Gene said.
       "I still do," I said. "I only corrected him just now because you're here, Gene."
       "I gave up doing that years ago. I will say this, though. Kyle's usually pretty good around his mama and other ladies, and I appreciate that. Every now and then something will slip out, but in an all-male environment? There won't be any holding back on this trip," Gene said. "How old are you, Sam?"
       "Seventeen," Sam said.
       "Are you a junior or a senior?"
       "I'm a senior. I'm going to be eighteen in February," he said.
       "Kyle and Justin are nineteen, and Tim and Brian are seventeen. Tim's a senior and Brian's a junior, but he's graduating this year with Tim. Philip and Ryan, who'll also be there, too. They're a little bit hazy. They're either eighteen or nineteen, anyway. They're both freshmen at FSU. Justin's a sophomore, I think, at Emerald Coast. Anyway, they're all around your age, Sam," Gene said.
       We turned off the highway onto the gravel road that leads to Gene's lease. We bounced along that thing for about another twenty minutes.
       "Damn. Look at that. They beat us here. I'm sure Kyle had 'em up at the ass crack of dawn," Gene said.
       "What took you so long, old man?" a stunningly handsome boy shouted to Gene.
       "It's only 7:30," Gene said. "You said eight o'clock." The two of them hugged. In fact, Gene hugged the other three boys who were there, too.
       "Daddy, that's Kyle. I recognize him from the picture in the magazine. God, he's good looking, isn't he?" Sam said.
       I glanced at my son.
       "Daddy, don't look at me like that. I'm not gay. I'd tell you if I was. I wouldn't be ashamed of that. Don't you think Kyle's good looking? In fact, they all are. Look at that other dark-headed one," Sam said.
       "Sammy, hearing you say that is making me real uncomfortable, Son," I said.
       "Why is it making you uncomfortable, Dad? Huh? You don't think those guys are good looking?"
       "You're not supposed to notice that kind of thing, Son," I said.
       "Why not, Daddy? You need to lose the phobe, okay?" he said.
       "'Lose the phobe?' What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.
       "The homophobia. These guys are going to be our friends, I hope. Maybe for the rest of our lives," he said.
       He got his pack out of the car and walked over to meet the Emerald Beach crowd. I knew he was right, and I knew Gene was right, too. I could never turn my back on my two boys, even if they were mass murderers, much less gay. I made a resolution right there on that spot. From that moment forward, I wouldn't care if a guy was gay or not. I prayed to God I could keep my resolution and my mouth shut.

(Sam's Perspective)
       Goddamn! What an awesome hunting trip. I have been hunting since I was a little boy, but I never had as much fun as I did that weekend. Everybody in the party got the bag limit each day, but the real fun was the guys. That Philip and Kyle were hilarious, and throw Justin into the mix, and I was laughing almost nonstop. Ryan and I both cracked off a good one a time or two, but we weren't anything like them. Tim and Brian were pretty quiet compared to the others, but they laughed a lot. After about a half hour, I felt like I had known those boys my whole life. They were so easy to be around.
       And the dogs! Whoa! They were fucking incredible. We had two Black Labs and three Springer Spaniels. The Springers were competent and good. No question about that. But those two Labs were spectacular. They are retrievers, of course, but they also flushed out coveys of quail that the Springers didn't even know existed. We have two Black Labs, too, and I love them with all my heart. But they are nothing as bird dogs, compared to those two.
       "Who trained your dogs, Kyle?" Daddy asked.
       "Mr. Mack Mixon and Brian," Kyle said. "They're good, ain't they?"
       "Son, I've hunted these dogs once before with Justin, Brian, and your daddy, and they were damn good that day. Today, they're superb," Daddy said.
       "Yes, sir, I know. They're in competition with the Springers. That's why," Kyle said. "It's like they know that me and Tim are much better hunters than Philip and Ryan, so they know they got to be better dogs than the Springers."
       "Goodson, when was the last time you had a bowel movement?" Philip asked Kyle.
       "I had one this morning. What the hell kind of personal question is that?"
       "Because you're so full of shit, I didn't think you'd had one in a month," Philip said.
       "Fuck you, Philip. How many damn birds you got in your bag?" Kyle asked.
       Kyle and Philip were talking real gruff to each other, but I knew what that was all about. I know some other guys from Emerald Beach who talk to each other that way, just in fun.
       "Not as many as I've shot, that's for sure. The goddamn Labs bring 'em all to you guys," he said.
       Things were getting pretty tense between them, and I almost expected them to go at each other.
       "Then chew the fucking dogs out, Philip. Not me. You dumb son of a bitch," Kyle said.
       My dad handed me his shotgun so he could break up the fight. Their dads were just standing there, grinning, though. And, in a second, Kyle and Philip started laughing. I knew exactly what was up. They were just two good friends teasing each other.
       "These two have been best friends since they were five years old, and they have never touched each other in anger," Mr. Cliff, Philip's dad, said.
       "One time we had a fist fight, Mr. Cliff. In the sixth grade. You remember that, Philip?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. I beat the shit out of you," Philip said.
       "No, sir. I beat the shit out of you," Kyle said.
       "Maybe we beat the shit out of each other," Philip said. They both laughed.
       "What caused it?" I asked.
       "Do you remember what caused it?" Philip asked.
       "Hell, yeah. You stole my dessert in the school cafeteria. It was a big ole brownie, with pecans in it," Kyle said. "I had gone up to get another milk to drink with my brownie, but, when I came back, it was gone. Vanished."
       "Kyle, you never eat dessert," Mr. Gene said.
       "I did then, though, Daddy. I was so hungry, I used to buy two lunches. Remember?" Kyle said.
       "Philip did, too," Mr. Cliff said.
       "This one still does," my daddy said, nodding toward me.
       I'm sure I blushed a little bit, but I do buy two.
       "That was the best brownie I've ever eaten in my whole life, Kyle. It was better than two orgasms happening at the same time," Philip said.
       I looked at my dad when Philip said that, and he was laughing his ass off at them.
       "Okay, Philip. You and me. Right now. Step out," Kyle said.
       "Step out? What? You want to dance with me?" Philip said.
       "You shit," Kyle said, and he and Philip laughed hard. Everybody else did, too. "You got me last on that one, asshole."
       "Don't mess with a pro, Kyle," Philip said.
       I was kind of dizzy. The fact that all the guys who knew those two were laughing off and on sort of made me know they weren't going to fight, but, from the way they acted, I thought we were going to see blood in the field.
       "Sam, if we scared you, I apologize, man," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, me, too, Sam. Me and this guy have been best friends since we were little boys, and we love each other. We'd never lay a hand on the other one," Philip said.
       "Like you could," Kyle said.
       "Shut up, Goodson, you asshole," Philip said.
       Kyle laughed.
       "Philip's right. That fight in the sixth grade is the only time we had a fist fight. We've had plenty of verbal fights, but never fists since then. I reckon we'll always have verbal fights. We're too much alike not to have 'em. Ain't that right?" Kyle said.
       Kyle threw his arm around Philip.
       "Get off of me, you queer," Philip said.
       I was confused.
       "Philip, I thought you were queer, too," I said.
       "I am. Just not for him. You can't be queer for your brother. How perverted is that?" Philip said.
       "It ain't beyond you," Kyle said.
       "You guys never stop, do you?" I said.
       "Nope. But it's all words between us, you know? We both got the ones we love," Kyle said.
       * * *
       That was a fantastic weekend. I think probably the weekend I got laid the first time was the best, but that weekend was a close second. The whole thing was incredible.
       "Did you have fun, Son?" my daddy asked me, once we were home.
       "Daddy, that was probably the second best weekend of my life," I said.
       "What was the first one?" he asked.
       "Daddy, I'm going to keep that one in confidence for a while, okay?"
       He grinned big.
       "Those boys don't act gay at all, do they?" Daddy said.
       "I know what you mean by 'act gay,' Daddy, but most gay guys don't. They're just guys, Dad," I said.
       "I see that now," he said.

Chapter 06

(Tim's Perspective)
       Brian and I had started working on our college applications in October because we wanted to go for "early decision" at Tulane University. That basically meant we would know before Christmas if we had been accepted. It was a little more complicated for Brian than it was for me because he had to send transcripts from Beachside High School and from Emerald Coast Community College. It wasn't that big a deal, but it was one more step he had to take.
       Just as we had been hoping, our acceptance letters were at the house waiting for us when we got back from New Orleans on Christmas Eve. He and I opened them, of course, but there were so many people, and so much going on, that we sort of put the acceptances on the back burner. Everybody congratulated us and all, but it wasn't that big a deal.
       When second semester started, we were all set for college, but we still didn't know whether either, or both, of us would get one of the coveted and highly prestigious Dean's Honor Scholarships that we had applied for. They only give thirty of those a year, but they basically constitute a full free ride. They don't include books, room, board, or other expenses, but we have all of that covered. Brian has made so much money training the dogs that he probably could pay full tuition, at least for the first year, if he had to. Not only that, my dad and Mr. Gene have guaranteed that we don't have to worry about paying for college.
       "This is a lot of work filling out these scholarship applications, isn't it?" I said to Brian.
       We were in his room working together on them. I mean, we were each doing our own, but we were doing it at the same time and in the same place.
       "Yeah, but it's a lot of money," he said. "The tuition alone is $29,810.00 a year. It says on the Web site that for people who live in a dorm it's $39,051.00. I sure hope it's worth that much."
       "Damn, I didn't realize it was that much. That's like $120,000 for four years, in round figures, just for tuition," I said.
       "I know. That's why it's so hard to get the Dean's Scholarships. Those are the only scholarships they give where you don't have to show any financial need. I doubt you would even be eligible for need-based financial aid because Doc and Sonya make so much money. The parents have to submit their income tax return along with the application," he said. "I don't know what they'd do in my case."
       "I feel just a little bit guilty, though, about even applying. I mean, you and I are guaranteed support from my dad and Gene. If we get them, we'll be taking the place of some poor kid, maybe," Tim said.
       "Maybe, maybe not. If we don't get them, they could just as easily go to somebody like Kyle," Bri said.
       I laughed.
       "What are you laughing at?" Brian asked.
       "I'm laughing at what it would be like if Kyle tried to fill out this application. He'd never get it done," I said.
       "Don't sell your boy short. You know he's smart," Bri said, defending the love of my life in his absence.
       "Of course I know he's smart, but can't you just picture his attention-deficit-disordered self fooling with all of this?" I said.
       Then it was Bri's turn to laugh.
       "Yeah, I think you're right," he said.
       * * *
       We weren't supposed to hear anything about the scholarships until mid-January, right after the weekend hunting trip. After we got home from school on Monday of that week, Brian and I walked together out to the mailbox on the street to see if we had any news. They had said we would know something that week, but we didn't know the exact day the letters would come.
       We get a ton of magazines and catalogues every day in the mail, and that day was no exception. I started going through the mail, handing each piece to Brian for him to hold while I looked for something from Tulane. Finally, near the bottom of the stack were two envelopes with the return address of Tulane University. One was addressed to me, and one was addressed to Brian. All of a sudden, my stomach turned to water and my hands started shaking.
       "That doesn't look too encouraging," Bri said.
       "I know. I thought it would be a big packet, like we got when we were accepted," I said. "Let's go inside and open them."
       Denny, Murray, and Todd were all still at school, and I'd have to go pick them up later. Sean was probably at Scott's house, having sex or something. Kyle and Justin were still at college, and Kevin, Rick, and Andy were still at work.
       "Are you scared?" Bri asked me.
       "I'm terrified," I said. "Look how bad my hands are shaking."
       "I know. Mine are, too, and my stomach's a nervous wreck right now," he said.
       "Well, I guess we ought to do it," I said.
       "Okay. Let's do it together on three. One, two, three," he said, and we tore into the envelopes.
       "Oh, my God," Brian said. He was breathing so hard, I thought he might hyperventilate.
       Then I saw the first word of my letter. "Congratulations!" it said.
       "Oh, Brian. Me, too," I said.
       We jumped up and hugged each other so hard that it hurt. We were dancing around the room, crying major happy tears.
       "Let me see yours," he said.
       I handed him my letter, and he gave me his. Yep. Identical, except for the inside address.
       "Let's call Justin and Kyle," he said. "They're on their way home by now, aren't they?"
       "Yeah."
       I called Kyle, and Brian called Justin. We told them our news.
       "All right! Babe, I'm so damn proud of you. I love you so much," Kyle said.
       "I love you that much, too," I said.
       "I'll be home in a minute. I've got to get off right now, though. I'm about halfway to a full hard-on," he said. "But don't worry. I won't fool with it. It's yours. I love you. Bye."
       I started laughing.
       "Did Kyle say he's got an erection?" Brian asked.
       "How'd you know?" I asked.
       "Because Justin's got one, too, and they're not even in the same vehicle," he said.
       Bri and I laughed together at the foolishness of our guys.
       "You've got to love 'em," he said.
       "I know," I agreed.
       After I talked to Kyle, I called my dad and told him the good news. He was beside himself with excitement for both of us. Then I called Rita and Gene, on three-way calling, and they were very excited for us, too.
       "Let's wait till tonight to call the Foleys. They're too hard to get up with during the day," I said.
       "Do you think we should call Kevin and Rick?" Brian asked.
       "No! We've got to wait and see their reaction in person," I said.
       "That's what I thought, too," he said.
       We heard Justin drive up, and I figured Kyle would be right behind him. He wasn't, though.
       When Justin came inside, he dropped his backpack on the floor and flew into Brian's arms. He picked Brian up around the waist and danced him around the room. Then he planted a kiss on Brian's mouth that definitely would not have been allowed if Kevin and Rick were home. He did the same thing to me, only the kiss was fraternal.
       "I knew y'all were going to get it," he said. "Y'all are the two smartest ones I ever knew."
       "Where's Kyle?" I asked, after we had calmed down.
       "He had to stop at the grocery store. He wants to have a party tonight for y'all. I'm supposed to call the Townhouse Boys and invite them," he said.
       "Just call Jeff and tell him to bring the others," I said. "I hope it's just for the family."
       "Yeah, that's all it is. Really, just a nice dinner, I think. You know how he is. He couldn't possibly let this pass without doing something special for you guys," Jus said.
       We both said we agreed.
       "Brian, I got a little something I want to talk to you about upstairs, okay?" Justin said.
       "Don't put yourself down, Buddy. It's plenty big enough for me," Brian said.
       "You little cutie. How do you know what I'm talking about?" Jus asked.
       "It wouldn't be this thing right here, would it?" Brian asked, rubbing Justin's erection through his jeans. I had felt it when he hugged me.
       "Let's go before you make me shoot in my jeans. I've had this thing for twenty minutes already," he said, and, laughing and clowning, they went to their room.
       Kyle got home in about fifteen minutes, and he hit the horn of his truck coming into the driveway. I went outside to help him bring in the groceries. When I got to the truck, he and I repeated what Justin and Brian had done inside, only we did it in the front yard, passionate kiss and all. I could feel his erection, too, and I was getting one of my own.
       It's good having gay neighbors, I thought.
       We took the groceries into the kitchen, and he put a couple of things in the refrigerator.
       "Where are Justin and Brian?" he asked.
       "Justin had some little thing he wanted to talk about with Brian in private," I said. "They're upstairs."
       "I've got a little something of my own to talk to you about upstairs, too, if you're interested," he said.
       "Have I ever not wanted to talk about a little thing with you?" I asked.
       He grinned. "I know, you little sex monkey. Let's go. God, Tim, I'm so happy, I could bust," he said.
       Some people complain that "monogamy" is a synonym for "monotony." I suspect those people are not in monogamous relationships, though, because what Kyle and I do in the bedroom is anything but monotonous. In fact, it seems to me that every act of lovemaking is different. We might do the same things, since there's an obvious limit to what two guys can do together, but our sex life is full of surprises, good surprises.
       There are so many factors that go into it. Mood is a major factor, but so are things like setting, time of day, degree of arousal, and length of time since the last encounter. That afternoon we hadn't made love since the previous Friday night because of the camping trip, so that was definitely a favorable factor. We were in our bedroom, so setting didn't enter in, but we rarely make love at 3:30 in the afternoon, so that was a plus. The biggest factor that day, though, was mood, and neither of us could have been in a better one.
       We jumped at each other as soon as we locked the door. We were so desperate for contact that we started undressing each other as soon as our lips touched, standing in the middle of the room. When I finally got Kyle's underwear off, I saw that his dick was a wet, sticky mess. A hair of pre-cum leaked off the end of it and made it all the way to the floor without breaking. The boy was very aroused. I dropped down and took his dick into my mouth. The taste was unbelievably good, and the aroma that arose from his crotch was like the finest perfume to me, the essence of maleness.
       "Not too much, okay?" he said. I knew he wanted to fuck me, and he didn't want to come before we got in bed.
       I backed off and led him to bed.
       I got on my back, and he got between my legs. He started licking my nut sack, which always drives me crazy, and he worked his way down to my hole. After several minutes of incredible rimming, I was desperate for him.
       "Put it in me, Kyle. Now," I said, gasping for enough air to make my voice work.
       With a little lube on him and me, he entered me. He communicated with his penis all of his happiness, excitement, joy, and love, and he did it over and over and over, slowing down occasionally to make it last. I didn't time it or anything, but that had to be one of the longest fucks we had ever had. When we came, pretty much simultaneously, I almost blacked out from the pleasure. He slumped down on top of me and gently sucked on my neck.
       He didn't move for a long time, and I wondered if he had gone to sleep. In a minute, though, his penis had softened to the point that he could no longer keep it in me, and he rolled onto his side of the bed when it came out.
       "That was incredible," he said.
       "I know. For me, too. I love you," I said.
       He responded to that with a tender kiss.
       "Let's get up," he said. "Do you want a shower?"
       "Not really," I said. "Let's go in the bathroom and clean up, though."
       "Okay," and so we did.
       Justin and Brian were coming out of their room just as we left ours. Kyle ran up to Brian, lifted him up in a big hug, and kissed him. Then Kyle and Justin hugged, also with a brotherly kiss.
       "Can you believe these two?" Justin asked.
       "Don't got to believe nothing. They proved it, Bubba," Kyle said. "It's a fact we're married to the two best guys in the world. I don't know what y'all were doing in that bedroom, but, son, what we were doing was un-fucking-believable."
       "What'd y'all do? Have sex or something?" Justin teased.
       "You damn right," Kyle said, "and y'all did, too. I hope it was as good for y'all as it was for us."
       That's the kind of conversation we would never dare have in front of the others but that we have among ourselves all the time.
       "I don't think it could get any better, Kyle," Justin said.
       All four of us were grinning, happy to be brothers, happy to be gay, and happy to be in love.
       "Did y'all call everybody already?" Kyle asked.
       "Shit, I forgot to call Jeff. I been thinking with the wrong head," Jus said.
       "No, Buddy, it was very much the right head," Brian said. "But you do need to call him. Don't say why, though, okay? Tim and I want to see their reactions when they hear the news."
       Justin made the call, and I could tell Jeff wanted to know why we were getting together on a Monday night.
       "Tell him Monday Night Football," Kyle said.
       "Hold on," Jus said into the phone. He held it away and covered it so Jeff couldn't hear what he was going to say. "Hell, no, Kyle. He won't come, if he thinks it's for football. Jeff, it's a surprise."
       They finished the conversation in a couple of seconds.
       "They'll be here," Jus said to us.
       "Let me see the letters," Kyle said.
       Brian and I handed him what he asked for. When he realized they were identical, he handed Brian's letter to Justin. They both read them quickly.
       "I can't believe how much money's involved in this," Jus said. "I hope UNO don't cost that much."
       "It don't. UNO's a state school; this one is private. They're always more expensive. Besides, what do you care? You're covered," Kyle said.
       "Oh, I know, but that's thirty thousand dollars a year, just in tuition. That ain't books, apartment, food. Nothing," he said.
       "I know. Tulane is a fancy school, though. UNO is for working stiffs like you and me," Kyle said.
       "Where do you suppose that term 'working stiff' comes from?" Brian asked.
       "I know the answer to that. Years ago, they started working the boys when they were around thirteen, and they'd be stiff all the time, like any thirteen-year-old boy," Kyle said. "They'd be working stiffs."
       We all laughed.
       "Kyle, I think you ought to major in linguistics and specialize in etymology," Brian said.
       "Ain't that bugs and shit like that?" Kyle asked. "I don't like bugs."
       "The study of insects is entomology. Etymology is the study of the origins of words," Brian said. "You'd be so good at it. You could write the funniest dictionary ever created, and you'd probably have a good time doing it."
       "I ain't majoring in anything but Hospitality Administration. Speaking of hospitality, we're going to have a good dinner tonight to honor our two scholarship boys," Kyle said. "Did y'all call Grandma and Grandpa? And Craig and Cherie?"
       "No. We wanted to wait until they're all home tonight. We can do a three-way with them on the speakerphone. Besides, half the time they keep their cells turned off," Tim said. "What are we having for dinner?"
       "Shitake mushrooms instead of steak," he said.
       "What?!" Justin said. "I hate mushrooms. You know that, Bubba. This is supposed to be a celebration for our boys, and you bought stuff I can't even eat."
       "They taste just like beef," Kyle said.
       "Not the ones I've tried. Plus, they grow in shit, Kyle. Literally. Cow shit," Justin said.
       "I'm going to wash 'em before I cook 'em," he said.
       "Well, that's a comfort. You changed my whole mood, just like that," Jus said, snapping his fingers. "Why'd you do that, Bubba?"
       I was shocked. Justin got this real disappointed and hurt look on his face. I was a hair away from telling Kyle to go back to the store and buy some real meat. Filets or something.
       "I did it to get your ass last," Kyle said. "Justin, you don't think I would dare not serve steak at something like this."
       "Yeah, well, I guess that's what you think of me, after all this time," he said.
       "Justin, I was playing with you, Bubba. I thought you knew that. I would never hurt you. I love you, Jus. Please don't be mad at me," Kyle said. He was upset.
       Brian and I looked at each other in near panic. What were we going to do? Kyle and Justin were staring at each other, and, all of a sudden, they burst into laughter.
       "Goddamn you, Davis. You miserable cocksucker. I hate everything about you," Kyle said, pretending to be angry. That was obvious.
       "No, you don't," Justin said.
       Kyle and Justin were laughing so hard they could barely breathe.
       "How you know I'm a miserable cocksucker, anyway? I think I'm a pretty damn good one," Justin said, between laughs and gasps for breath.
       By then, Brian and I were over our shock, and we were laughing, too.
       "I shouldn't have said that about your cocksucking ability, Jus. I didn't really mean it that way, anyhow. I saw what you did with that golf ball and that garden hose. That was awesome. No question about it," Kyle said.
       "That was nothing. Next time it's going to be a golf ball and a soda straw," Jus said. "I might even branch out and take on a basketball and a garden hose."
       We all laughed at their antics. In fact, we had the best time just making word play and being silly that afternoon. We didn't have a care in the world, and we were four pretty clever guys who loved one another and who loved to laugh.
       We waited until all fifteen guys were in the den around 6:30. Kyle had put out hors d'ouevres, and he and Justin had made drinks. That's when Brian and I announced our scholarships, and the place went crazy, especially when they found out their value in dollars and cents.
       "Do you have to pay tax on that?" Chuck asked.
       "I hope not," Kevin said. "That's major money, right there. Do you know, Babe?"
       "Yeah, I do know, and you don't. That's one of the few things you can 'win' and not have to pay tax on," Rick said. "I didn't have anything that good, but I went to college on a scholarship. It was called the Florida Academic Scholars Award, and it paid every dime in tuition at FSU."
       "I didn't know that, Rick," I said. "That's commendable."
       "Thanks, Tim. They weren't that hard to get, though; believe me," Rick said.
       "Yeah, but don't think his high school and college records weren't outstanding," Kevin said, "because they were."
       "Aw, shucks, Kevie," Rick said.
       "Rick, that scholarship you had is now called the Florida Bright Futures Scholarship, and I have one of those," Jeff said. "And you're right. They're not hard to get."
       "Do you guys know about the Goodson Scholarships at Emerald Coast Community College?" Kevin asked.
       Everybody in the room looked at Kyle.
       "Don't look at me. I don't know a thing in the world about 'em, and I damn sure don't have one," Kyle said. "Those are for the smart ones."
       "They're based on a combination of need and achievement, and they pay all tuition, fees, and books," Kevin said. "There are thirty of them every year, for two years each. They're endowed, which means they'll never go away."
       "Damn, that's pretty nice," Tyler said. "That's a great gift to the community, isn't it."
       "You guys have no idea what the Goodson family does for this community every year," Kevin said.
       "Kevin, please don't go there, okay? Because if you do, I'm leaving," Kyle said. He was dead serious, and, of course, if he left, I would leave, too.
       There was a really uncomfortable silence for a few seconds.
       "I'm sorry, Bubba," Kevin said. "I won't go there."
       "Who wants another drink?" Justin asked.
       "I need to get busy on that grill out there. Who's coming? If you want your steak well done, raise your hand. Otherwise, it's going to be medium rare," Kyle said.
       Nobody raised a hand.
       Kyle went into the kitchen, just as Jus was returning with fresh drinks. Brian, Justin and I followed Kyle.
       "That upset you back there, didn't it?" I asked Kyle. The four of us were standing around the grill just looking at it.
       "Yes, it did, and Kevin knows better than that. He's so fucking starry-eyed over my damn family. He wants to brag about us. I have never done a goddamn thing for this community. Not one fucking thing, but Kevin wants to give me credit for what my grandpa and my daddy have done. It's like I'm a good guy, just because I have the last fucking name of Goodson."
       "I ain't arguing with you, Kyle, but I happen to disagree. You're only nineteen years old, and you've already done a hell of a lot. Beachside High School is a model of tolerance for gay people in the South. Why? Two words. Kyle Goodson. Beachside High School is an A+ school. Two words. Kyle Goodson. Do I need to go on?" Justin said.
       "No. Shut up and gimme a smoke," Kyle said.
       He hadn't had one of those in a long time, so I knew he must really be upset. He coughed when he lit it, too.
       "Kyle, you need to calm down, okay?" Brian said. "The four of us are going to be together for the rest of our lives. We all love one another, and we'll support you to the death. But Kevin loves you and will support you to the death, too. And you know that. I can certainly understand why you don't like to talk about your family's money and fame and achievements. But let me tell you something, Bubba. I am so fucking proud that you love me and that you're my brother, I can't stand it sometimes. I've seen you and Justin argue so hard about your not being able to accept compliments that I've thought you guys were going to come to blows. This isn't really the same thing, but it's kind of related. We think Kevin and Rick are gods because they've done so much for all of us and the others. But they're not gods, Kyle. They're just ordinary guys, and they sometimes make mistakes."
       The four of us were quiet when Brian finished talking. Brian had said "fuck," and I think we were all a little stunned by that.
       "Hey, what's going on?" Rick said, as he came out to where we were. "I hope those steaks haven't been on the grill all this time."
       "We've been talking. I haven't put them on yet," Kyle said, his mood much brighter than it was when we had first gone outside. "Seven more minutes."
       He started slapping those steaks on the grill.
       "Are you okay, Kyle?" Rick asked. "You seemed pretty upset inside."
       "I'm fine, Bubba. It's just some stuff I need to work through," Kyle said.
       "You don't hate Kevin, do you?" Rick asked.
       "Rick! I love Kevin, and I love you. You guys are two of the most important people in my life. Is Kevin upset?" Kyle asked. "Because of the way I reacted, I mean?"
       "No, I don't think so. I think he's fine. I think he needed to hear what he heard tonight, but he's fine. He's in there laughing and joking with the others," Rick said.
       "Well, thank God for that," Kyle said. "These are about ready, I think." He started taking the steaks off the grill.
       The rest of the evening was pure fun. The food was delicious, and everybody was in a great mood to celebrate. We had to bring in a table and some chairs from the clubhouse so everybody could eat together in the dining room, but that wasn't a problem. We called the New Orleans relatives, and they were ecstatic. We tried to call Chris and David Uhle, too, but their line was always busy. We got through to Seth and Curt, and they were stunned at the news. We haven't really stayed in touch with Alex Stewart and Cody Mitchell, so we didn't call them. We did call Ron Grisham, but he wasn't home. We told his mother, though, and she said she'd tell Ron the news. She said she's getting married soon.
       "What about the cousins in Boston?" Kyle asked.
       "I'll let my dad tell them. He'll get a kick out of bragging. The same with my grandparents," I said
       Everybody went home around 9:30 because of work and school the next day, but it had been a great evening, on several fronts.
       * * *
       I was still basking in the glow of having won that scholarship when, later the same week, the rank-in-class listings came out. Kyle had never had a clue about his rank in class, and he wasn't interested. He wasn't anywhere close to the top anyway, so why would he be? But guys like Brian and I are very interested because we both want to be Number One in our classes.
       In fact, at the end of the previous year, we were. I prayed I was going to be valedictorian. They base it on the first seven semesters of high school for two reasons. First, because of the block schedule we use, a good many people have all the credits they need to graduate by the end of the first semester of their senior year. It's kind of tricky to get that, and it all depends on when in the year you have senior English. If you have it first semester, as half the seniors do, you can finish high school in January. If you have it second semester, you can't finish until May. Believe it or not, people actually pay one another to make schedule swaps so they can finish in January. Why? Jobs, of course. If you finish in January, you can have a full-time job second semester and during the summer, thereby making a lot more money for college or whatever. The ones who don't work full time go to community college. Some even start at a university.
       The second reason they only count the first seven semesters is that the second semester ends like a day or two before graduation. The valedictorian and salutatorian need time to write and rehearse their speeches. You can't do that very effectively if you find out for sure you are valedictorian or salutatorian the day before graduation.
       "And for all you students who care, or who even know what this means, the rank-in-class lists are now available in Guidance," Joey Constanza, the SGA president announced that morning.
       Joey is a friend of mine. He's no Kyle when it comes to being SGA president, but he is a really good guy.
       "Tim. Come here."
       I was in Mike Lawley's AP Calculus BC class. He handed me a pass.
       "Go to Guidance and find out," Mike said.
       "Thanks, Mike," I said.
       "What are brothers for?" Mike said, and he and I grinned at each other.
       I hustled my ass down to the Guidance Office, and there was already a mob of people in there. The lady at the door who was supposed to be checking passes just waved me in. She knew that the people in there at that moment were the best students in the school and that we weren't skipping class to check our ranks.
       In the past, you had to see your counselor to find out your rank in class, and you still do, but that day they had four easels set up, and the top ten in each class were hand-written on the pads, identified by Social Security number. I looked at the senior pad, and there I was. I was the fucking valedictorian! I let out a little "whoop!," and everybody laughed.
       "You're still Number One, aren't you?" Pat Kennedy, my friend and closest rival, said.
       "Yeah, but you're Number Two, aren't you?" I asked.
       He and I embraced in a hug.
       "I heard about the Tulane thing. Way to go, guy," he said.
       "I heard you got Stanford on early decision. Is that right?" I asked.
       "Yeah, but it's going to be UF for me, probably. Both of my parents are teachers, and they can't afford Stanford. I've got a Bright Futures sewed up, so that's where I'm probably going to go," he said. "There, or Emerald Coast."
       We both laughed.
       I saw Brian, so I elbowed my way into the junior list crowd.
       "Which one is yours?" I asked.
       "Number One," he said.
       "I figured it was," I said.
       I turned to him, picked him up, and hugged him. Brian was taller and heavier than I was, so I didn't do it long.
       "You're the val, right?" Brian asked.
       "Yeah. And you would be, too, if you were going to be here next year," I said.
       "I know. But you know our priorities," Brian said.
       "Brian, you are so incredible to me," I said. I'm sure he noticed the tears that were forming in my eyes.
       "Cut it out, Tim. Let me go. This is for home, okay?" he said.
       "Okay," I said quietly, and I broke the hug.
       I have never before had friends like Kyle, Justin, and Brian. With them, it's like it is real life. I mean, our collective friendships are going somewhere. I know there are probably going to be some rocky roads ahead, but I have an intuitive feeling that those three guys will be with me for life.
       I floated back to my class that day, happy in the knowledge that I am the valedictorian, but happier in the knowledge that Kyle, Justin and Brian will be with me forever.

(Justin's Perspective)
       Brian and Tim came home from school on Wednesday all excited because Tim is going to be the valedictorian. I didn't know exactly what that meant. I mean, I have been to exactly one graduation in my life, and that was Kyle's the year before. It was in a stadium, and I had spent most of my time scoping out the kids on the field with a pair of binoculars Kyle had lent me. That was all new to me.
       "Were you the valedictorian?" I asked Kyle.
       "Shit, I wasn't nothing," Kyle said.
       "You gave a speech," I said.
       "Yeah, but that was because I was SGA President. I don't hold a candle to those two," he said.
       "Is Tim going to give a speech?" I asked.
       "Yep. And so is Brian. Me and Miss Sally worked that out today. Alternative graduation. Wave of the future. Look, Brian was going to be the valedictorian of his class, no question. There are about thirty juniors doing what Brian is doing. I convinced her that Brian needs to give a speech, too. As the valedictorian of the people in his class graduating this year," he said.
       "For real?" I asked.
       "Yeah, for real. Miss Sally loves my ass, Justin. You know that. Well, I put it on the line today. Brian's going to be the val for his class, a year early. They'll have another val at graduation next year, too. Times are changing," he said.
       "Does Brian know this?" I asked.
       "Yeah, he knows," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, that was mighty nice of you to do that," I said.
       I got a little misty-eyed when I realized how much he cares for Brian. He hadn't had to do that for Brian, but I guess it showed how much he loves him. And loves me, too. I was truly touched.
       "It wasn't nice of me. It only makes sense. Why not do what makes sense?" he said.
       "Okay. It just makes sense," I said.
       "I'm doing it again, ain't I?" he said.
       "Yes, you are, Kyle. That was a damn nice thing for you to do, and you need to take credit for it. Don't play it down. It means everything to Brian, and it means a hell of a lot to me, too," I said.
       "Okay, Bubba. You're welcome. How's that?"
       "That's just fine, Kyle," I said.

(Brian's Perspective)
       When I came to Emerald Beach, I was only fourteen years old, and I was scared to death. I had been kicked out of my home, been put in two different foster homes, and been brought in by the cops for sleeping in the dugout at the ballpark after I had run away from the second foster home because the guy tried to rape me. I literally had nothing but the clothes on my back when I got to Kevin and Rick's house, and it had been two days since I had eaten the Big Mac and fries the trucker who gave me a lift had bought for me. I knew I was attracted to boys and wanted sex with them, and not with girls, but I had no idea of the implications of that fact for my life. Above it all, I had no hope for the future. I was nothing but a throwaway.
       Then Kevin and Rick came into the picture. Tim, Kyle, and Justin were already on the scene, and together the five of them made me feel like I was real, that I really existed as a person. I felt safe for the first time in a very long time, and I knew they loved me.
       It didn't take me long to adjust, either. I had a lot to overcome, and some people believe that it takes years of therapy and nurturing to get over a background like mine. That might be true for some people, but it wasn't true for me. As soon as I figured out they weren't going to rape me or be mean to me, I got happy.
       I came to North Lagoon Drive about nine weeks into my freshman year of high school. Now, two and a half years later, I'm all set to graduate at the top of my class, a year early, and I have a full scholarship to college. I'm in love with the most wonderful guy in the world, and he and I are committed to each other forever. I have friends that I know would cheerfully give their lives to save mine, and I would cheerfully do the same for them. I don't have the world, but I have everything I could ever want.
       "What are you thinking about? You look mighty serious," Justin said.
       He and I were in our room. I had been trying to do my calculus homework, and he had been reading something for school.
       "I'm thinking about my life," I said.
       "What about your life, Little Buddy? Are you unhappy?" he asked, his concern obvious in his voice.
       "Just the opposite, Buddy. I don't think I could be any happier than I am right now," I said. "That's what I was thinking about."
       "Me, either," he said. "You and I are an unlikely pair, aren't we?"
       "Not really, Jus. I'm totally turned on by tough masculinity, and that's you. You're good looking, smart, funny, kind, generous, affectionate, and the muscles don't hurt any, either. I take it you go for the more intellectual type," I said.
       "Yeah, I guess I do. You're very masculine, too, though, Brian. I can't analyze things the way you and Tim can, so I can't say exactly why I love you. I just do. That's all. And I'm so damn proud of you I can't stand it, okay?"
       His voice broke, and tears started streaming down his face. I knew those were happy tears, and that made me start, too. He got up from his chair and got on the bed with me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me gently. I don't think it is possible to feel closer, safer, or more loved than I did at that moment. We kissed, but that evening wasn't about sex or a union of bodies. It was about a union of souls.

Chapter 07

(Kevin's Perspective)
       I was exhausted. It was the third week of January, and I felt as though I had been on the move since Thanksgiving. First it was the holidays, then it was the wedding, then it was Todd, and then it was Trey. Some of the kids had gone on a camping trip the previous weekend, but Rick and I just stayed home and relaxed.
       For the last couple of years, we had used the long weekend of the Martin Luther King Birthday holiday to go skiing in North Carolina. This year, though, the holiday came and went without much notice. The kids had been off school, but Rick and I had worked, like it was an ordinary day.
       My cell phone rang, and I noticed the number on the caller ID thing was Gene's.
       "Hi," I said.
       "Hey. What's up, Kevin?" Gene asked.
       "Not much, for a change. I was just thinking about how incredibly busy we've been these last few weeks," I said.
       "That's exactly why I called. Have you gotten the material on that restaurant trade show in Denver next week?" he asked.
       "Yeah, I got something about it. I didn't pay any attention to it, though," I said.
       "Well, you should have because I want you and Rick to go to it. Just the two of you. No kids," he said.
       "Gene, that show is only two days long. Don't you think it's rather extravagant to go all the way to Denver for that?" I asked.
       "When was the last time you and Rick had anything like a vacation? Just the two of you?"
       "Gosh, I don't even remember. It was before Tim came to live with us, though," I said.
       "See? That's my point. I know y'all love those kids, Kevin, but they're going to wear y'all out. They're important, but so are you and Rick. And your relationship," he said.
       I wondered if he knew something about our relationship that I didn't know. I didn't speak for a second or two, thinking about what he had just said.
       "Have you picked up something I don't know about?" I asked.
       He chuckled.
       "Well, just what Rick's girlfriend told me," he said.
       I laughed, and he did, too.
       "I know that's not true," I said.
       "I know it, too," he said. "I haven't seen or heard a thing to even hint that you guys have any problems, but I know relationships, Kevin. A couple needs time alone. Away from the damn kids."
       "When would we go?" I asked.
       "This is pretty short notice, I know, but you leave on Sunday and come back the following Saturday. You'll be staying at a new Sheraton, downtown. The room's comp, of course. So is the rental car, a brand new Buick Park Avenue. I've got the airline tickets in my hand," he said.
       "Gene . . . "
       "What, Kevin?" I could "hear" him grinning.
       "This is a setup," I said.
       "That's right. I have never pulled rank on you before, but as the CEO of Goodson Enterprises, I am ordering my two Executive Vice Presidents to go on this vacation. That's it. Over and out," he said.
       "Gene, sometimes you can be pretty damn wonderful, man. Thank you," I said.
       "By the way, y'all are going to need to at least stick your head into the trade show. In fact, if I were you, I'd go to the cocktail party Sunday afternoon right after y'all get there and say to hell with the rest of it," he said.
       "Rick is going to shit a brick when he hears this news," I said.
       "Why would he shit a brick?" Gene asked.
       "Oh, I meant that in a good way. He's been talking about going skiing in Colorado for years, and this year we didn't even make it up to North Carolina." The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. "Gene, this is fabulous. Thank you so much."
       "Kyle's going to have a fit when he finds out that y'all are going and he isn't. Tell him his daddy said, 'TOUGH SHIT.'"
       I laughed.
       "I'll tell him he's in charge while we're gone. That'll help compensate," I said.
       "He thinks he's in charge anyway, doesn't he?" Gene said.
       "Pretty much. He's an incredible kid," I said.
       "Oh, I know. I know how much you think of him, and I'm damn proud of all the boys. Anyway, go tell Rick, and y'all start packing. I gotta run," he said.
       "Okay, Gene. Well, bye, and thanks again," I said.
       "Okay, Kevin. Y'all have a good time and a safe trip. Bye." He hung up.
       I rushed down to Rick's office. Cheryl, his secretary, said he was on the phone but she didn't think it would be much longer. I just went into his office and took a seat.
       Rick smiled when he saw me. He wasn't saying anything, so I assumed his party was doing all the talking. He has to put up with many, many salespeople, and sometimes they can be aggressive as hell. He rolled his eyes and touched his fingers together to indicate that the person he was talking to was longwinded.
       "Well, listen, I'll take a look at the samples and get back with you, okay?"
       Evidently it wasn't okay because the person had more talking to do.
       "I've got a very important appointment waiting, Glen, so I really need to get off the phone," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Nice talking to you, too. Bye."
       He turned his phone off and set it in the cradle.
       "God almighty! I've never known anybody who could talk as fast or as much as he does," he said. "What's up? You look like you're in a good mood."
       I told Rick about my conversation with Gene.
       "Oh, Kevin! I can't believe it. Do you know how long I've wanted to go to Colorado?" he asked.
       "Yeah, I do know," I said.
       "Do you think we'll be able to ski?" he asked.
       "I hope so. Why wouldn't we be able to?" I asked.
       "No snow, for one thing. That happens sometimes," he said.
       "Yeah, but not this year. I heard something on ESPN this past weekend. They've had a drought for several years, but it's over now. Or at least starting to get over. They have plenty of snow in the upper elevations," I said.
       "Oh, this is going to be so good, Babe," he said.
       I hated to break the mood, but I had something else on my mind that Gene had mentioned.
       "Rick, Gene was talking about the boys. He said they're important but so are you and I. And our relationship. That took me by surprise. You're not holding back on me on anything, are you?" I asked.
       He got very serious instantly.
       "No. Of course not. Why would you say that?" There was obvious concern in his voice.
       "Because nothing means as much to me as you do. If there's a problem between us, we need to work on it," I said.
       "No. There's no problem. Did he say he thinks we have a problem?" he asked.
       "No, just the opposite, in fact. It's just that we never talk about our relationship," I said.
       "We don't have to. We just live it. People only talk about relationships when there's a problem," he said. "I swear, Kevin. You worry too much. If I ever have a problem with you, I'll tell you. Our relationship doesn't mean any more to you than it does to me, and I think you know that."
       Just then, Cheryl tapped on the door.
       "Rick, I'm going to lunch. Can I pick anything up for you?" she asked without opening the door.
       "No, but thanks. Kevin and I have lunch plans," he said.
       "Okay. See you later," she said, and we heard the door to her office close.
       "You and I have lunch plans?" I asked.
       "Now that she's gone, we do," he said with a sly smile.
       He got up, locked the door to his office, and came over to me. We grinned briefly, kissed, and proceeded to have a very fine protein drink for lunch.
       "God, that was good, Kevin. Have you noticed that we almost always come at exactly the same time?" he asked.
       "Yeah, I have. I wonder how many couples do that as consistently as we do. We'll have to run a survey," I said.
       "Kevin, as satisfying as that taste of you was, I'm still hungry. Let's you and I go have some lunch and take the rest of the afternoon off. Gene's right. We don't get enough time alone," he said.
       I tried to picture my calendar for that afternoon, but I was drawing a blank.
       "Let me check on something," I said.
       I called Mary Ann, my secretary, and she said my calendar was empty for the rest of the day. I told her that Rick and I were going to be out of the office until in the morning. She and Cheryl knew to call us if there was a crisis of any sort, but, short of something catching on fire, we'd be free to play.
       We drove across the bridge into town in my car but with Rick at the wheel. We had a great lunch at our favorite restaurant east of the bridge.
       "What do you feel like doing?" I asked.
       "I don't know. Have you ever been downtown to the arts district? Do you know what I'm talking about? I hear it's pretty nice," he said.
       "I've heard that, too. Let's do it," I said.
       We had a great time that afternoon. There were a lot more galleries and shops than I had thought there were, and several of them appeared to be under the proprietorship of some of our more overt brothers.
       "You reckon that dude's gay?" he asked me right after we left an antique shop that specializes in china and sterling silverware.
       I laughed. "You sounded exactly like Kyle just now," I said.
       "Kyle who? I don't know no Kyle. Not this afternoon, anyway. Today I only know one boy, and his name is Kevin. And I'm in love with him. So fuck you, if you don't like it," he said.
       I was laughing even harder.
       "You are Kyle. He's taken you over," I said, trying rather unsuccessfully to sound like Kyle grumbling, too.
       "I know. I'm haunted. Let's go get a snack," he said.
       "Okay," I grumbled back. "You're really good. I didn't know you could imitate him that well," I said, back in my own voice.
       "I didn't know I could do it that well, either," he said, once again in the voice of Rick.
       After coffee and pastries, we visited a furniture store that our friend Larry runs downtown. He and his wife are members of the running club we used to belong to before we got the kids, and we like both of them. We visited with Larry for a few minutes, but he had customers who needed his attention.
       "What do you say we go to a movie?" I asked.
       "How long has it been since we've done that? Just the two of us?" he asked.
       "Too damn long. Let's go," I said.
       * * *
       The movie started at 4:30, and it was a long one, Gangs of New York. It was after seven by the time it was over. I called the house to let the kids know we were okay and that we were on the way home.
       We stopped at a Subway sandwich shop and bought fifteen seven-inch subs to take to the guys.
       Rick kissed me when we got back into the car.
       "I had a great time today," he said. "I'm glad I thought of it."
       "I am, too, and I had a great time, also. You and I need to do this more often," I said.
       "I second that motion," he said.
       "Yummy! Subway food," Kyle said when we got into the house.
       "I know y'all have probably already eaten, but you can save it till later if you aren't hungry," I said.
       "I can always eat a little sandwich like this," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, he can always get seven inches in his mouth," Justin said.
       "Like you can't?" Kyle said. "Where'd y'all get these?"
       "At the Subway shop," Rick said.
       "I know, but there's none around here. Did y'all go to town or something?" Kyle asked.
       "Yep," Rick said. "All afternoon. Lunch, gallery hopping, and a movie."
       "Say what?" Kyle asked.
       "You heard me," Rick said.
       "What'd y'all do? Have, like, a date or something?" He was astonished.
       "Something like that. Is that all right with you?" Rick asked. Rick was teasing Kyle, and I wasn't sure Kyle even knew it.
       "Yeah, it's nothing to me. It just seems kind of strange, is all," he said.
       "Don't you and Tim have dates?" Rick asked.
       "Yeah, but we're kids," he said.
       "So are we," Rick said.
       "Yeah, right. Anyway, thanks for the subs," he said, and the others all echoed him.
       "Oh, and Kyle, we're going to Colorado on Sunday," Rick said offhandedly.
       "We are!? Oh, man, I can't wait!" he said.
       "Not you. Kevin and me. We'll be gone a week," Rick said.
       "Why are you going to Colorado?" Brian asked.
       "It's just a little vacation. If we like it, we're going to move there," Rick said.
       When he said that, all movement in the room stopped. The looks on their faces were tragic, and I knew Rick was sorry he had said that.
       "Guys, I shouldn't have said that. I was just teasing. We are going to Colorado for a week's vacation, but we're not thinking about moving--there or anywhere else," Rick said.
       "Jesus Christ, Rick. You scared the shit out of me, man. I saw my whole fucking world coming to an end," Justin said.
       "I know, Jus. I didn't think before I spoke. I'm sorry, guys," Rick said.
       "Really, why are you going to Colorado? It can't be just for vacation," Kyle said.
       "Your dad called me this morning and pulled rank. He ordered us to go to a restaurant trade show at the Downtown Sheraton in Denver," I said.
       "See, I figured it was something like that," Kyle said. "I knew y'all would never just go on vacation. Especially without us."
       "We have to put in an appearance for about an hour at a cocktail party right after we first get there. That's all for the trade show," I said.
       "What are y'all going to do the rest of the time?" Kyle asked.
       "What would you do for a week in Colorado, stud?" Rick asked Kyle.
       "What would I do? I'd have fun. I'd go skiing. Denver's got every kind of professional sport there is. I'd see some sports. I don't know what else there is to do there, but I'd sure be finding out," he said.
       "We'd do some shopping, too, wouldn't we, dear?" Tim said.
       Kyle smirked him when he said "dear."
       "Maybe a little, but it would be under duress," Kyle said.
       "Under what? Where'd that come from?" Justin said.
       "Shut up. The word's in the dictionary," Kyle said.
       "I don't doubt it. I just never thought it would be in your head," Jus said.
       "I think we're going to do all the things you just said," Rick said. "We're going to have fun, too."
       "I bet y'all will," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, you sound like you're jealous," Tim said.
       "I'm sure I do. 'Cause I am," Kyle said. "But I do hope y'all have fun."
       "That's more like the right attitude, don't you think?" Justin said.
       "Yeah, it is. I'm sorry I was acting like a spoiled brat," Kyle said. "I think you all are going to have a great time, and I'm excited for you."
       "Kyle, look at me. Let me tell you something. The most fun Kevin and I ever have is with the boys who are in this room right now. If Kevin and I had planned this trip to Colorado, it would have been for all of us, not just for him and me. The fact is, it wasn't our idea, and we're not paying for it. Another fact is that Kevin and I are capable of having fun when it's just the two of us," Rick said.
       "I know. I'm sorry for how I was acting," Kyle said.
       I didn't think he was acting out of line. He and Rick were playing with each other, and I knew Rick was purposely trying to make him jealous to tease him. Oh, well.
       * * *
       Rick and I had just gotten in bed. We were both reading when we heard a faint tap at the door. It was so faint, in fact, I wasn't sure that's what it really was.
       "Is somebody at the door?" I asked loud enough for whoever it was to hear.
       "Yeah. It's me. Can I come in?"
       "We're already in bed, Kyle," I said.
       "It's important," he said.
       One of the things that Rick and I insist on with the boys is that our bedroom is strictly private. In fact, I was pretty sure that some of the newer ones had never even been inside it. I knew that if Kyle wanted to come in at that hour of the night, whatever he had to say was, indeed, important, at least to him.
       "Okay. Come in," I said.
       I wasn't quite prepared for what I saw. He seemed very agitated, his eyes were red, and his face was streaked with tears. He was in his bikini briefs.
       "Come here. What's the matter?" I asked.
       "Kevin and Rick, I feel so bad," he said, and he started crying.
       "Are you sick?" I asked. He didn't appear to be sick, but he certainly wasn't well, either.
       "No," he sobbed. "I just feel like total shit over the way I acted tonight. I'm soooooo sorry, and if y'all want me to move out, I will tomorrow."
       Rick patted the bed to indicate that he should get in between us.
       "Kyle, what on earth would ever make you think we want you to move?"
       "Tim said he bet y'all will be glad when we're gone so you can have more time for each other. He and I had an argument, which is something we never do, and that upset me bad. And then he said that, and I got to thinking we really are a pain in the ass to you guys. Especially me. I could be living someplace else. The others couldn't maybe, except Tim, and if I move, he will, too." He was sobbing so much he could barely talk, and it was hard to follow what he was saying.
       "Let's calm down, okay? Because you're not seeing this rationally at all, Son," Rick said.
       "Okay," Kyle said, voice quivering.
       "First of all, are you and Tim okay now?" Rick asked.
       "Yeah. We didn't really have a fight. He said something to tease me, and I didn't realize he was teasing. I overreacted a little bit, but we got it worked out," he said.
       "Kyle, the way you reacted tonight was exactly the way I wanted you to react, and I apologize for leading you on," Rick said. "I might have been showing off a little bit, and I'm sorry."
       "The whole time you and I were talking, I thought we were teasing each other," Kyle said.
       "And that's exactly what I was doing," Rick said. "It just sort of took a wrong turn somewhere. I was trying to make you jealous, Kyle, and that was stupid and wrong."
       "I knew that's what you were doing, but then Tim said that about me acting jealous, and that hurt my feelings. That's what started the argument. He said that to tease me, but I didn't think he did. And then Justin said I had a bad attitude, and that's the last thing I ever want to have, especially toward you guys," Kyle said. He was sobbing again, and he was rubbing at his face with his hands.
       "Are you mad at Justin?" I asked.
       "No, sir. He said that teasing, too. I just misjudged it all. That's why Tim and I were arguing," he said.
       "Does Tim know where you are now?"
       "No. He's asleep," he said.
       "So, did you guys really make up?" Rick asked.
       Kyle smiled. "Yeah, we made love."
       "Good. That's what I wanted to hear. So, what made you so upset after that?"
       "I went right to sleep, like I always do, and I had a dream that y'all were putting me out," he said. "It woke me up, and I got scared that you really wanted to. I know it was stupid, but I couldn't help it. I didn't want to wake Tim up, so I went outside. That's when I started thinking you might really want me to leave, and I couldn't stand that." He started sobbing again.
       "Is it clear in your head right now that we don't want you to leave?" I asked.
       He nodded.
       "I'm a little concerned about why you reacted so strongly to all of this," I said.
       "I've been down ever since Christmas. Well, really, ever since the semester started. First it was Trey, and that really got to me. Then I found out Justin and I can both graduate this semester. And then Tim and Brian got their scholarships. It's final for sure, now," he said.
       "What's final for sure?" Rick asked.
       "That we're going to be leaving here," he said.
       All of a sudden it dawned on me what might be going on with him.
       "Let me tell you a little story, and see if this makes sense to you, okay?" I said.
       "Okay," he replied.
       "Do you remember how excited you were last year to start the second semester of your senior year?"
       He nodded.
       "I was the same way in high school. I think everybody is. I couldn't wait to graduate, to be on my own, so to speak. I had finally accepted the fact that I was probably gay, or at least not straight, and college was going to be the time when I proved I was bisexual and could have a sexual relationship with a girl. And that's what I did my freshmen and sophomore years. I dated a lot freshman year but no sex. Sophomore year, I met a girl I really liked, and we eventually had sex a half dozen or so times. By the end of my sophomore year, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was fully gay and would never have any kind of relationship with a woman beyond friendship."
       "Where's this going?" Rick asked.
       "Sorry. I got a little off track," I said. "Anyway, after Christmas my senior year, I started realizing that it was almost over. All I had ever really done was go to school, and that was about to end. I got depressed. The weather was bad, cold, rainy, and dreary. The guy who had been my roommate had graduated at the end of the first semester and moved out to take a job in Tampa, so I was lonely. But most of all, I felt sad because I was going to leave it all behind. As much as I looked forward to graduating from high school, that's how much I dreaded graduating from college."
       "I can definitely relate to what you're saying, Babe. We've never talked about this before, but you're telling my story. Except the bisexual part. I never did any of that," Rick said.
       "So what do I do about it?" Kyle asked. "Go to the doctor?"
       "They say you need medical help for depression if you get depressed, it lasts a long time, and there's no reason to explain it. It hasn't been very long, and I think you have a lot of reasons to explain it. So, let's wait and see what happens before we run to the doctor," I said.
       "Why is it doctors' kids hate doctors?" Rick asked.
       "I don't know, but I don't want to get into that right now," I said.
       All three of us were quiet for several long moments.
       "I feel a lot better," Kyle said. "Thank you, and I'm sorry about being such a pain in the ass."
       "Kyle, I only wish we had more pains in the ass like you," I said.
       "And I agree," Rick said.
       "Well, I'll go on back to bed and let y'all get to sleep," he said. "Thank you for loving me."
       He reached over and kissed my cheek, and he did the same thing to Rick. Then he left.
       Rick made a noise like he was letting out breath he had been holding a long time.
       "What's the matter, Babe?" I asked.
       "You just never know with him, do you?" he said.
       "We take him so much for granted, but there are times when he needs us as badly as any of them do," I said.
       "I know. It had been a long time, though, until tonight. I kind of think he made a breakthrough, though. I doubt he'll be the least bit depressed, now that he understands what's probably going on. Goodnight, you awesome stud, you," Rick said.
       "Goodnight, Babe," I said.
       We kissed and turned off the lights.
       * * *
       The next two days were days of packing and excitement about our trip to the Rockies. Our flight Sunday morning was at 10:35, and, of course, it was through Atlanta.
       "Are you excited?" I asked Rick when we were seated next to each other in the plane.
       "Yeah, I am. It's like the honeymoon we never had," he said.
       "You're right. This is the first time we've been anywhere without the kids since we got married. I hadn't thought about that," I said.
       "I hope everything will be all right at home," he said.
       "I think it will. I talked to Kyle last night for a few minutes," I said.
       "Oh? What did he say? How's he feeling?"
       "That's what I asked him, and he said he hasn't been depressed, or 'down,' as he put it, a single second since our talk Thursday night," I said. "I think you were right. He's on the mend."
       "Let's don't talk about them, okay?"
       "Babe, how can we not?" I asked. "They're such an important part of our lives. They're our children."
       "Just kidding," he said.
       He took my hand in his, not caring if flight attendants or other passengers saw us. In a few minutes he pulled at the crotch of his pants.
       "Don't tell me you're . . . "
       He grinned sheepishly and nodded. "I'm sorry, but that's the effect you have on me, Kevin. Deal with it."
       I grinned back. "Me, too," I said, and he laughed.
       * * *
       I have been in mountains in the eastern portion of the country all my life, but they're as different from the Rockies as a beach is from a forest. I was very surprised to discover that Denver proper is just about as flat as Emerald Beach or New Orleans. The difference, of course, is that it's pretty much surrounded by gigantic mountains that are breathtakingly beautiful when the weather is clear. That, and the fact that the whole city is a mile in the sky.
       Our hotel was new and very, very nice. We got a smoking room because of my nasty habit, and it was on the tenth floor, the hotel's highest. The view from our window was magnificent, and we were both eager to get out in the snow that covered the peaks in the distance. We had been alerted to the fact that weather conditions in Denver change faster than just about anywhere, so we were prepared for bitter cold or moderate temperatures, rain or snow, good weather or bad. The one climate factor that seemed to remain constant was the humidity, or the lack thereof.
       "Have you been just terribly thirsty?" I asked, as I opened my third bottle of water of the morning. We had driven to Breckenridge and were taking a break from skiing.
       "Yeah. This is my fourth bottle," Rick said. "I'm not sweating one bit, either."
       "Where are you guys from?" one of the other skiers asked us. He was a young guy around our age. Pretty nice looking, too.
       We told him.
       "What's the humidity like there?" he asked.
       "Rarely under 90%," Rick said.
       "See, here it's rarely above 20%. That's why you're so thirsty. Your body isn't used to the lack of relative humidity. It'll get better the longer you're here," he said.
       "Thanks. I hadn't thought of that," Rick said.
       "Another thing you might notice is having to take deep breaths from time to time. There isn't as much oxygen in the air this high up, and you're probably not used to that, either. Some people get nose bleeds, too," he said.
       "I know. I noticed that about the deep breaths last night in Denver," I said, "and today it's even worse.
       A second guy, also around our age and also nice looking, came up to us.
       "Hi," he said. "Did you make some new friends?"
       "Well, we haven't introduced ourselves yet, but . . . " the first one said.
       "I'm Kevin Foley . . . and I'm Rick Mashburn," we said in turn.
       "I'm Tim Simmons, and this is my partner, Dave Curry," he said.
       "Partner?" I asked.
       "Yes. We're a couple. You two are also, aren't you?" Tim asked.
       "Yeah, as a matter of fact we are," I said. "How could you tell? Did one of us drop a hairpin or something?"
       They laughed.
       "No, not at all. It's just that this particular resort is very popular with gays and lesbians. You two are together, so I naturally figured you were a couple," Tim said.
       "We had no idea this place caters to family," I said.
       "It's not exclusive. There are straight families here, too, but probably half the people here are gay," he said.
       "Leave it to you to pick out a gay place," Rick said.
       "Have you guys had lunch yet?" Dave asked. "I'm starving, and I'm cold."
       "Where is there to eat around here?" Rick asked. "And, yes, I could go for some lunch, too."
       "Back up top, where you rented your equipment. It's not fancy, but it's not bad," Dave said.
       "Let's go," Tim said.
       We were at the bottom of a run, so we had to get the lift back to the top. That's the only part of skiing that I find the least bit scary, but it only ever bothers me the first couple of times I do it. We had skied down about six times by then, so the trip back to the top was a piece of cake.
       Over lunch we got to know our new friends a little bit. They are, in fact, also both twenty-seven, and they have been together for two years. Dave had gotten married to a woman when he was twenty-two, and he divorced her after six months. No children. Tim had had the same boyfriend for nine years, ages sixteen through twenty-four. The guy one day decided he really didn't love Tim after all, so he just left him. Tim and Dave live right outside of Chicago, and they both work in the home office of an insurance company. When they got home after their vacation, they were going to sign the final paperwork on a house.
       We gave the basic rundown on ourselves, but we didn't really bring up the kids. That was pretty complicated, and there were far too many names and relationships involved to handle during a forty-five-minute lunch.
       We skied the rest of the afternoon, but we called it a day when the lights on the slopes came on. It wasn't that we didn't like night skiing; it was that we were exhausted. Tim and Dave quit then, too.
       "Where are you guys staying?" I asked.
       "Way the hell downtown, at a Sheraton," Dave said.
       "So are we," I said. "What a coincidence. We're officially here to attend a trade show that's at the hotel. That's why we're there. Are you going to ski every day?"
       "I saw the signs for that show. Restaurants, isn't it?" Tim asked. "And we'll probably ski another day, but there are lots of interesting places to go around here. Have you guys ever been over to Golden?"
       "No, this is the first trip to the Rockies for both of us. Golden is where Coors is, isn't it?" I asked.
       "Yeah. You ought to take the tour. It's pretty cool. I wouldn't bother with the Air Force Academy, though, over in Colorado Springs. The town and some of the attractions around it, yes; the Academy, no," Tim said.
       "Maybe we'll run into each other again. If we don't, it's been a great day," I said, and we shook hands all around.
       "Those are nice guys, I think," Rick said, once we were in the car and on the way back to our room at the Sheraton.
       "Can you believe Tim's boyfriend left him after nine years?" I asked. I didn't understand how that could happen.
       "It happens, Babe," Rick said.
       "I know, but still."
       Rick and I are both shower guys, basically, but occasionally we enjoy a hot bath, especially if we can take it together. The tub in our bathroom at home is big enough for two or three men, and the one in our hotel room, while not that big, easily accommodated both of us at one time.
       "It feels so good in this hot water," Rick said. "My feet have been like ice for hours."
       "Ummm," I said, purring with pleasure as I stretched my legs over his. We were facing each other, and it did feel good to be in that tub.
       I had taken my text from Kyle and had brought a bottle of whiskey with us. I had made myself a drink for the tub, and, surprisingly, Rick wanted one, too.
       "This is a good drink," he said. He likes his whiskey with Coke or 7-Up; I like mine with water.
       "When was the last time you had one? Do you even remember?" I asked.
       "It's been a while. I think probably the last one was at the Christmas party at your parents' house the night before we got hitched," he said.
       "So, I see you're turning into an alcoholic," I said.
       He smiled.
       "Do you want to go out to a restaurant or order room service?" I asked.
       "Babe, room service sounds really good to me. Aren't you tired?" he asked.
       "I'm very tired. We did a lot today, and the altitude, humidity, and lack of oxygen didn't help," I said. "So, let's do room service and order a now-playing-in-theaters movie."
       "That sounds good," he said.
       We stayed in the bath long enough for the water to cool, and then we showered to get clean.
       "Are you in the mood tonight?" I asked, after we were dressed.
       "I'm always in the mood for you, but I'm pretty tired," he said.
       "Good because I'm too tired, too. Besides, we have a lifetime," I said.
       "You got that right," he said, and smiled.

Chapter 08

(Kevin, Continued)
       It was a little colder when we woke up on Tuesday morning, but the chill was invigorating. The sun was out, and the sky was the deepest, darkest blue I had ever seen. The lack of humidity made that possible, and I knew that from hearing Kyle or somebody talk about it.
       We were both sound asleep Monday night long before the movie was over, so we woke up fairly early that morning. Rick and I were in the restaurant in the hotel by 6:30. They had a free continental breakfast for hotel guests, which is something we also do at ours, but we ordered a more substantial meal of bacon, eggs, potatoes, and toast from the menu.
       "Do you want to hit the slopes again or do something else?" Rick asked during breakfast.
       "I'm a little sore from yesterday, but I hate not to take advantage of the nice weather. We could have rain or snow tomorrow," I said.
       "That's true. Let's ski for a little while and then try snowboarding. How about it?" Rick asked.
       "That's great," I said. "Same place as yesterday?"
       "I've always wanted to ski Vail. Let's go there," he said.
       "Yeah, that's kind of one of those legendary places, isn't it? How far is it?" I asked. He always knew stuff like that.
       "It'll take us about two hours to get there. It's a little closer than Breckenridge," he said.
       The drive to Vail was, just as the drive to Breckenridge had been, spectacular. Since these were major ski resorts, the highways, while not necessarily Interstates, were Interstate quality.
       "Did you see that?" Rick asked, all excited.
       "What?" I had some brochures of things to do in Vail, and I was looking at those while Rick was driving.
       "Two big-horn sheep going up the side of the mountain," he said.
       "Damn. No, I didn't see 'em," I said. "Let me know in advance if you see anything else like that."
       "I'll try to, but I didn't notice them until we were passing them," he said. "Is there other stuff to do in Vail besides ski and snowboard?"
       "Yeah, there's a lot, in fact. Snowmobiling sounds like fun. Listen to this." I read him the description. "It's $75 for one hour for two riders, and $128 for two hours."
       "And this trip is costing us . . "
       "Well, nothing, really, except for the fun stuff," I said.
       "Exactly. The kids will still be able to get shoes and get their teeth fixed if we go on the damn snowmobile," he said.
       "I know it, but that just seems like a lot of money for a ride," I said.
       "Don't think of it as a ride. Think of it as an experience. An adventure," he said. "I'd really like to do that. And you know what? For two full hours, Kevin. And I might even want to get my own and race your ass. How much does that cost?"
       "That would be $93 each, so $186 for both of us," I said.
       "Let's do that. You and I can have a 'chicken' race on the snowmobiles," he said.
       "Very funny," I said. "I'll ride with you, but I'm not riding by myself."
       "Okay. What else is there to do?" he asked.
       "There's a dogsled tour, but it's a half-day long. It costs $210 for two adults, and you have to drive the damn thing yourself," I said.
       "What time is it?" Rick asked.
       He has a watch that he always wears, and there was a clock on the dashboard, too. Why was he asking me the time?
       "It's a little after eight, and we're about halfway there," I said.
       "Perfect. Let's snowmobile this morning and do the dogsled tour this afternoon. Are you up for that?" he asked.
       "But it's expensive," I said.
       "So is skiing. Look, Babe. How much do you make a year?"
       "Rick, you don't have to do that. I know we make a lot of money. I know we don't have a mortgage or car payments. I know we have a very good investment program. I know that most of the kids are contributing, in one way or another," I said.
       "All of the kids except Sean are contributing," Rick said. He handles all of the household finances, so I don't know much about the money.
       "Kyle and Tim are contributing, too?" I asked. I was surprised.
       "Oh, yes. In addition to what Kyle charges to Goodson, and only God knows how much that is, we get a thousand dollars a month from both Gene and George. And we don't have to give those two an allowance," he said.
       "Really? That's news to me," I said.
       "Oh, yeah? I'm sorry you didn't know that. It must have slipped my mind or something," he said.
       "Or, you could have told me that five times, and I just forgot. Sean's parents don't send us any money?" I was sort of appalled that they would have that little regard for him, especially since I knew they could afford it.
       "No. Are you surprised? I'm not. He has an American Express and a Visa, so he has money. I guess he gets cash advances or something. Or maybe he borrows from the other kids and pays them back by charging stuff for them. But his parents don't have any contact with us in any way."
       "That makes me sick enough to want to throw up," I said.
       "I know. Me, too. And Sean knows it, too. Every month he asks me if the check has come yet, and every month I tell him 'no.' A couple of times I've been tempted to lie and say something like, 'Oh, yeah, Bubba. I just got a check for $10,000,' but I haven't done that. I don't think there's any point in making him believe a lie," he said.
       "No, you're right. One day he'll discover the truth, and we'll come across as being untrustworthy. What about Todd's parents?"
       "It's only been a month, but they're giving us $1,100, and they pay his allowance, too. I think that will continue. The mother seems to be the bookkeeper in that family, and she won't forget," Rick said.
       "Does Justin give us anything?" I asked.
       "The month after Justin went off official foster care, he gave me a check for $500, which is what we get from the state for the others. I called him in and sat him down. I said, 'Look. You can't afford this every month. Besides, we've never given you an allowance because you've always worked since you've been with us. If anything, we owe you money.'"
       "Was he cool with that?" I asked.
       "No, not a bit. He pointed out that we had given him all of the money we had gotten from the state for him, 'And I, by God, want to carry my weight,' he said."
       "You sounded just like him just then. I could hear him say that," I said. "What did y'all work out?"
       "What we worked out is, he handles his own personal spending money, his 'allowance,' as it were, and he gives us $180 a month. That's the difference between the $500 we get from the state and the $80 a week the rest get as an allowance. He thought that was fair. So, on the first of every month, I get a check from him. He's more regular than a thirteen-year-old boy's wet dreams," Rick said.
       "What about Denny? We spend more on him than on the others because of debate, don't we?"
       "Oh, yeah. Denny's way over the top. He's definitely red ink. But, we're getting a lot of money from Kyle, Tim, and now Todd, so they subsidize him. Murray, too. Would you want them not to do what they're doing because the state won't pay for it?" he asked.
       "Of course not. I've never really been interested in any of this, but I knew you had it figured out," I said. "I knew we were in good shape, so I never worried."
       "I can't believe you passed up an opportunity to worry," he said. He was grinning and laughing at me.
       "Shut up," I said. "I can't help worrying."
       "I know you can't, but that's why you've got me. Together we make close to a half-million dollars a year, plus bonuses, gifts, trips to Denver, and shit like that. You know the Goodson Family Foundation?" he asked.
       "Yeah. What about it?"
       "If we went belly-up financially tomorrow because of those boys, or for any reason, we'd have a grant from them the next day that would so totally bail us out that we could probably retire," he said. "And Gene is so diversified, we'd have to have fucking Black Tuesday, Pearl Harbor, and September 11th all on the same day for him to feel so much as a ripple in the stream. And that's all it would be, too. A ripple."
       "Gene told me we needed to get away from the boys, but I'm thinking now we needed to get away because of the boys. He's a wise man," I said.
       "Did you ever doubt that?" he asked.
       "No, not really. And I think you're a pretty wise man, too," I said.
       "Well, be that as it may. Here's something that's been on my mind that we haven't had time to talk about. Rental property. I figured Kyle had about $100,000 to invest, and he was able to buy five rentals. We could get twice that many tomorrow, if you're interested," he said.
       "How did Kyle get that much money?" I asked. I was shocked.
       "He started getting a small percentage of the revenue of his trust fund when he turned eighteen. He hasn't spent any of it because he hasn't had to. He spends what he made during the summer. And so do Tim, Brian, and Justin. I don't know for sure that that was the amount, but I think it was. Anyway, I think we need to get some rentals," he said.
       "Will you take care of it for us? You know I hate doing stuff like that," I said.
       "Yeah, I know you do, and of course I will. Look at that. You see 'em?" he said, pointing right.
       I did see them. Four big-horn sheep scampering up the mountain.
       "God, they're awesome," I said.
       "I know. Baby, look at me, okay? I can't look at you because I'm driving, but I want you to look at me. I feel so much closer to you right now than I did when we left home on Sunday, Kevin, I can't even express it," he said.
       I didn't say anything for a few minutes.
       "We really are a team, aren't we?" I said.
       "Yeah, we've always been. But we're more a team now than we were when we left Emerald Beach," he said.
       "Absolutely," I said, and it was true.
       * * *
       We walked around Vail for an hour or so when we first got there, and it was pretty cool. The altitude was high, and we gasped for breath a few times on some of the steeper streets. Vehicular traffic was at a minimum, but there were lots of pedestrians out. The temperature was in the teens, but we didn't really feel cold.
       "Have you noticed there's no wind here, and no humidity, either?" Rick asked me.
       "I know. It's pretty pleasant, isn't it? And it's in the teens, too," I said.
       "I know. We probably need to head over toward the snowmobile place," I said.
       We caught a shuttle bus, for a mere $6.50 each for ten blocks, and met up with the snowmobile guys. It was a "guided" tour, which actually meant that somebody who had been on the trail at least once before headed us out. That was fun, though, and Rick and I alternated driving the thing. He was more adventurous than I was, but I had full confidence in him and enjoyed it when he drove fast.
       The dogsled tour that afternoon was the best outdoor activity I had ever done. At least in the snow. It was totally quiet, unlike the snowmobiles, which had engines, and the scenery was magnificent. I had this image from movies and TV of a dog team barking its way down the trail, but the dogs were running too hard to bark. The only sound we heard was that of the runners sliding across the snow. It was blissful, hypnotic, and so beautiful.
       We got back to our room around eight, and the message light was blinking on the phone. I accessed the message, and it was Kyle.
       "Hey. It's me. We all hope y'all are having fun and doing good, but why the fuck haven't you called? What is this? Some kind of honeymoon or something? Bye. I love you. Call soon."
       "Listen to this message," I said to Rick. He listened and grinned.
       "We ought to call them, don't you think?" I asked, after he had heard the message.
       "Yeah, but let's get a bath first, and order room service. We can call Kyle on his cell, if we have to. You know he's got it on his nightstand, if not on the pillow between him and Tim," he said.
       That night the bath was no less relaxing than it had been the night before, only that time we made love in the tub. Like the night before, we each had a drink, and that helped relax tight muscles, too.
       The bell service brought our food, and we settled into it. When we were through eating, Rick said, "Hand me that phone."
       It had a speakerphone function, so we both talked to them. We told them everything we had done that day and the day before.
       "That sounds awesome," Justin said.
       "It was, Jus, and we're all coming here next year, one way or another," Rick said.
       "I can go," Kyle said. "I can be on a plane tomorrow morning, in fact."
       "Don't even think about it, Kyle. You asked in your message if this was some kind of honeymoon, and, yes, it is. And we don't want you all here," Rick said. "This is our time, not yours."
       "We know it is, Rick, and we respect that," Kyle said. "We miss you because we love you. Both of you."
       "Night, guys," Rick said. "We miss you because we love you, too."
       * * *
       The snow stuff was fun, but my God! We aren't Olympic athletes. Rick is in excellent shape because of all the running he does every day, but I'm not in nearly as good shape as he is. By Wednesday morning, I hurt everywhere.
       "Have you had enough snow? Because I damn sure have," he said, as we were waking up. It was around nine o'clock, and we had really tucked it away.
       "I'm so glad to hear you say that. Besides, look at the weather. I think this is an indoor day."
       It was pouring rain outside. I had no idea how widespread in the area the rain was, but I was ready for museums and that sort of thing, anyway.
       On Wednesday and Thursday, the weather was rainy in Denver, and we went to museums: Art, Science, Colorado History, the Denver Mint. We went to the Unsinkable Molly Brown House, as well as several other houses of Victorian vintage. Wednesday night we went to a Denver Avalanche hockey game that was pretty cool, and that team actually has some standing in the NHL. Thursday night we went to a production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, and it was fabulous. If anybody writes better music for the stage than Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber, I don't know who it is. Tim Rice's lyrics in that play are pretty amazing, too.
       On Thursday we braved the rain and went to Golden to visit the Coors brewery. It was awesome, and the town of Golden was pretty good, too. That same day we went to Boulder. That's where the University of Colorado is. It's a beautiful town, but it seemed totally artificial to me. I mean, they have ordinances banning smoking in certain parts of town. Outside. Huh? I mean, I can see people not wanting you to smoke in their house, or even in a restaurant, but outside?
       Florida has the same fucking thing. You can't smoke in a stadium seat because of the Florida "indoor clean air act," but you can smoke in the passageways under the various levels of the stadium. Hello! Stadium seats? Indoors? Stadium passageways? Outdoors? Okay. Whatever.
       Friday was gorgeous, and that's the day we drove down to Colorado Springs. We had lunch at the Broadmore, for which we had made reservations, and that place is incredible. First of all, the place itself is unbelievably beautiful. Second, I finally saw what a five-star restaurant is like. A lot of it has to do with the sophistication of the diners.
       For example, there was a table near us that must have had fifteen people at it, half of whom were thirteen and under. The youngest one was maybe eight. Those kids were so incredibly well behaved that nobody noticed there were kids in the room. In even our best restaurants in the hotels back home, people bring in their kids, and they scream and cry and carry on. I love to death kids the age of our boys, but I hate those little ones in restaurants. People want "no smoking" areas in restaurants? I want "no toddler" areas, and so does Rick.
       Before we went to the Broadmore, though, we went to the Cliff Dwellers' Pueblo in Manitou Springs. The thing about that was it had authentic Native American dancers, and those guys were excellent.
       "This is something the Scout guys would love," Rick said.
       "I'm sure," I said. "I like it pretty well myself."
       Then we went to the Cave of the Winds. Whoa! That is the biggest cave I have ever been in, in my life. It was fascinating, too.
       "This was a pretty good vacation, wasn't it?" Rick asked me when we were flying home on Saturday.
       "Yeah, it was pretty damn good," I said. "I'm ready to get home, though."
       "You miss those boys, don't you?"
       "Yeah, and you do, too. Don't tell me you don't," I said.
       "Yeah, I've missed 'em bad. I'll admit it. But I want us to go away for at least a week, at least once a year in the future, okay? I feel much closer to you than I ever did before, Kevin," he said.
       "I think we should do it twice a year. Let's go to Vancouver next fall. Okay?"
       "Okay. I just want to have you totally to myself for at least a week. It doesn't matter where it is. No kids, though, okay?" he said.
       "No kids. Just you and me," I said. "And I mean that."

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I went through some real bad days at the start of second semester. Trey Hudson came to our house to die of AIDS. I knew what that was, of course, but seeing him laying up in that bed just a vegetable really brought it home to me. That depressed the hell out of me. Then I found out Justin and I can both graduate from Emerald Coast this May. Shit, I never for a minute thought either one of us was that far along in college. I don't know how people keep up with stuff like that, but when that lady told me I only need fifteen hours to graduate, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Justin, too.
       "You can easily take fifteen hours, Kyle," she said. "Or, you can take twelve and then the other three during summer school."
       No two words are worse to me than "summer school," so I went ahead and signed up for the fifteen hours. Justin did, too.
       The final blow, though, was when Tim and Brian found out about their scholarships to Tulane. I was as happy as I could be for them because I knew how much they wanted them, but that meant there was absolutely no turning back. I would be hauling ass to New Orleans in August, and there were no two ways about it. I was really confused. I wanted to go, but I didn't want to go, all at the same time. I love my life the way it is, and all I could see in the future were big question marks. That depressed the shit out of me.
       Then Tim and I had the one and only fight we've ever had. It was over a damn misunderstanding on my part. We made up right away, but I felt like total dog shit when it happened. Then I made a fool of myself with Kevin and Rick. They were so cool and so nice to me, but, when that was going on, I hated myself. The good thing, though, was they helped me to see what was happening to me because the same thing had happened to them, more or less. I felt a whole lot better after that.
       Andy Callaway lived with us for a few weeks after Trey died. He is a nice guy, but he didn't really participate in family life all that much. He wasn't dating or anything, but I guess he just didn't feel comfortable around a bunch of teenagers. The one good thing that happened to him while he was with us was he got an insurance payout for Trey.
       Andy works for Goodson Enterprises in a gift shop. I don't exactly know what he does, but he's some kind of assistant manager or something. Anyway, GE has this benefits package for management-level employees that includes health insurance and life insurance for the employee and for his or her "significant other." The rule is the couple has to be together in a committed relationship for at least three years, which Andy and Trey definitely met. They can be straight or gay. That doesn't matter. The health insurance is okay, but it doesn't pay for everything. That's why Andy didn't have any money. The life insurance, though, gives the survivor $50,000 when the other one dies.
       Andy got his insurance money from Trey right at the end of January. It was enough to put him back on his feet, and he moved out. One good thing is he rented one of my houses. In fact it was the one that had just been painted. I wasn't all that sad to see him go, though. I mean, I like him and all, but I just don't feel like I know him all that good. Anyway, he rents the house for ten dollars a month more than the payment, so that's good. Like all vacation rentals, the house is furnished, even though the furniture is pretty shitty. At least I have a tenant I know, so that's good.
       There was all kind of drama with Sean. He had been dating Scott pretty much since he got here, but Scott finally got tired of Sean's bullshit and kicked him to the curb. Sean deserved what he got. Don't get me wrong about that. For a while Sean had been pretty good about being faithful to Scott, but that only lasted a couple of months. Before long Sean was back to having sex with anybody who was willing, and Scott just finally said, "fuck it."
       One night I was in our room by myself. I didn't know where Tim was, but I had been working hard. I finally had all the damn Spanish I could stand, and I was reading some email from Chris Uhle out in Montana. That boy is doing so good, and he is fixing to graduate this very semester. I was debating about whether to write email or call him when Todd knocked on the door. The door was open when he came in, but he closed it.
       "Have you got a few minutes to talk to me?" he asked.
       "Sure. Come on in. I was just trying to decide if I should answer this email or call the guy who sent it to me," I said.
       "If you're busy, I'll come back," he said.
       "No. Have a seat. What's on your mind?" I said.
       "Well, to be blunt. Sex," he said.
       "Oh, no!" I said. "That's on my mind about 95% of the time, too," I said kind of joking.
       "Really?!" he said, like he thought he was the only one who ever thought about it.
       "Well, that might be an exaggeration, but I do think about it a good bit. Everybody does," I said.
       "Everybody does? Really?"
       "Of course they do. Why? You thought you were the only one?" I asked.
       The thing about Todd is he looks a good bit older than he really is. He's only fourteen, and it is easy to forget he isn't nineteen or twenty because of how he looks. My experience is limited, of course, but I think thirteen and fourteen are about the hardest ages for a young boy. It seemed like I stayed hard the whole time I was those ages. Twelve, too.
       "I mean, I know people think about sex, but, Kyle, it's really bothering me. I mean, that's all I think about," he said.
       "I bet you stay hard a lot, too, don't you?" I said.
       "I haven't worn a dry pair of underwear in over two years," he said.
       He's a cutie, for sure, and I laughed when he said that.
       "Just know this, Bubba. That part is going to get better as you get older. I was the same way when I was fourteen. Thirteen and twelve, too. Maybe even eleven. I don't really remember," I said.
       "So you don't think it's abnormal?" he asked.
       "Hell, no, it ain't abnormal. It would be abnormal if you didn't," I said.
       "Whoa! That makes me feel a lot better," he said, and I could see him kind of relax a little bit.
       "Nobody's ever talked to you about this before?" I asked. "Not your dad or anybody?"
       "My dad never did, that's for sure," he said. "He stays real busy all the time."
       Yeah, I thought. Mine does, too, but he still talks to me, and he talked to me about sex when I was younger.
       "Have you got some questions or something?" I asked.
       I could tell he was troubled.
       "I don't understand why I feel the way I do."
       "Like what?" I asked.
       "Well, why I'm always so horny. And why I like boys and not girls," he said.
       "The horny part I know. It's called puberty, and there's nothing you can do about it," I said. "It happens to everybody."
       "I know, but I already did that," he said.
       "You might have started it a while ago, but it doesn't all happen overnight. It's like a process of transforming your body, and it takes a few years. I guess you have hair and all that down there, huh?" I said. I had never seen him naked so I didn't really know.
       "Yeah. Isn't that puberty?"
       "That's part of it, yeah, but that ain't the most important part." I thought for a second. "Okay, let me see if I can explain this right. Everybody's totally sexual, okay?"
       "What do you mean?"
       "Everything I do, I do as a male. The way I sit, the way I walk, the way I talk, the way I gesture. When you see or hear me, you can tell it's a male doing it, right?"
       "I can sure tell you're a male," he said.
       "Okay. I've been a male all my life, but when I was a little kid, there wasn't nearly as much difference in how I acted or talked than a little girl. I mean, I always liked to do 'boy' things, whatever the hell that means, like sports and shit, but I wasn't as male then as I am now. Does that . . . "
       "Yeah, I think I see what you mean. I used to watch my little sister play with the little boy next door, and there really wasn't much difference between them. Now there's a lot of difference," he said.
       "Okay. That's the basic concept. Puberty is sort of the dividing line, though. It's when you physically become a man. You're capable of reproducing. You might not want to, but physically you can. Your body starts making sperm. I guess yours does, right?" I asked.
       He sort of laughed a little bit.
       "Yeah, it does," he said.
       "Have you ever poured dye or ink into clear water?" I asked.
       "Yeah," he said. I could tell he had no clue where I was going with this.
       "What happened?"
       "It colored the water," he said.
       "All at once, or what?" I asked.
       "Not all at once. At first the dye was dark, and then it gradually turned all of the water a color as it spread out," he said.
       "And the color was more intense when you first poured it in, wasn't it?" I said.
       "Yeah, and then gradually the whole thing got an even shade, but it was lighter than the pure dye," he said.
       "Okay. Think about puberty that way. When it first starts, you got all these hormones in your body all of a sudden, like when you first pour in the dye. Gradually, though, just like the dye, the hormones even out in your body. When it first happens, the hormones are real intense, just like the dye. So you get these real intense sexual feelings at first. Gradually, though, the hormones spread out, and they affect different parts of your body. You start growing pubic hair first, and your dick and balls get bigger. Then your voice changes, and you start sounding like a man. Then you get hair on your legs and ass. Then under your arms. Are you with me so far?" I asked.
       He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and he kind of jerked a little bit, like when you get a chill or something.
       "I see what you're saying. Then I guess you get a beard, right?" he said.
       "Yeah, that, and if you're part ape, like me, you get hair on your chest, too," I said.
       "I like the hair on your chest," he said, like he was in heat or something.
       "You've seen my chest?" I asked. Has he been sneaking peeks at me, somehow?
       "Yeah, when you, Philip, Ryan and I played strip pool the first or second night I was here," he said.
       Then I got to thinking about it. We hadn't been swimming since he had been here, and it was too chilly not to wear a shirt around the house. I guess he hadn't had any chance to see anybody else's chest.
       "Brian has chest hair, too. It ain't that big a deal, believe me. Unless somebody like Justin tries to pull it out. Then it hurts like hell," I said.
       For some reason, that made him laugh.
       "Okay, back to the dye. Gradually, the dye mixes evenly in the water, but it takes a while to do it. You can stir the water to make it happen faster, but there's nothing you can do to the hormones in your body to make them mix faster. Just like the dye's real intense at first and gradually gets less intense, so do the hormones and the feelings they cause," I said.
       "Do you like sex less now than you used to?" he asked.
       "That's a very good question, and the answer is 'no.' I like it more because now I can control it better. When I first started jerking off, for instance, I could last maybe a minute, at the most. I don't really jerk off anymore, but if I did, I could last a pretty good while, like fifteen or twenty minutes, or longer, if I wanted to. Or, I could come in just a few seconds, if I wanted to," I said.
       "You don't jerk off?" I knew he couldn't believe that.
       "Every once in a great while I might, but I'm having sex on a regular basis with Tim, you know? That's all I really need or want. I know it's hard to believe, and I didn't believe it when my daddy told me the same thing a few years ago. But it's true," I said. "A lot of guys jerk off when they have regular sex, too, though. You'll work it out for yourself, when the time comes."
       "Wow!"
       "Another thing. I can control when I get aroused now, and I know you can't. I used to get 'em all the time, and I used to shoot in my pants sometimes without really doing anything to make it happen," I said.
       "That sounds familiar," he said.
       "Well, it ain't at all unusual, that's for sure. It's embarrassing as hell, but it happens to a lot of guys," I said.
       "That's so good to hear. I thought I was a freak because of that," he said.
       "You ain't a freak at all. That's just part of being a guy," I said.
       He got pretty quiet, and I could tell he was thinking.
       "Kyle?" he said in a low voice. "I did it."
       "You did what?"
       "I shot in my pants. About ten minutes ago while we were talking."
       I grinned at him. He was so damn cute!
       "Ain't no shame in that, Bubba. We've been having a pretty intense talk about sex, you know? There's nothing to be ashamed of," I said.
       "Can I ask you a personal question?" he said.
       Sure, why not? I thought.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Do you have an erection right now?"
       "I have, umm . . . kind of a partial erection right now," I said. "And, no, you can't see it."
       He laughed.
       "I wasn't going to ask you to see it," he said.
       "I know. I was just teasing you." Yeah, but you wouldn't shut your eyes if I took it out, I thought.
       Tim opened the door to the room.
       "Oh, sorry," he said.
       "No. Come on in. Are you ready for bed?" I asked.
       "Well, it's 10:45," he said.
       "Yeah. Bedtime. Todd, we're going to talk about your other question another time, okay? Are you feeling all right, Bubba?" I asked.
       "I feel so much better than I did. Thank you," he said. "Thank you."
       "You're welcome. Goodnight, Bubba. See you in the morning," I said.
       "Goodnight, Kyle. Tim," he said, and he left.
       "What were you doing? Working miracles again?" Tim asked after Todd was gone.
       "No. Come here, you little monkey. I'm going to work a miracle on your ass," I said. I felt real playful because I was pretty damn horny after that talk.
       "I was hoping you'd say that," he said, grinning.
       "Get those clothes off and get in that bed right now," I said.
       "Wow! I don't know what you guys talked about, but I sure like the effect," he said.
       That wasn't all he liked that night, either.
       * * *
       A couple of days after our first talk, Todd wanted to talk to me again.
       "What's on your mind? Sex?" I asked.
       He laughed.
       "Of course," he said. "Now I don't feel like a pervert about it, though."
       "Good, 'cause you're not. You're just a normal, healthy boy is all," I said.
       All of a sudden, he got this real dark look on his face.
       "What's the matter?" I asked him.
       "See, that's just it. I'm not normal," he said.
       "What do you mean by 'normal?'"
       "Well, you know. Like everybody else. For sex," he said.
       "I thought you're gay," I said.
       "I am. That's my point," he said.
       "Well, you're just like everybody else in this house, so you must be normal, right?" I said.
       "But they're not normal, either," he said.
       "Now wait a minute. Let's don't play little word games here, okay?"
       "Okay," he said, "you don't think being gay makes you not normal, do you?"
       "It makes me different from some other people, but it's normal for me. Don't you get it? I didn't do anything to make myself gay. Hell, for years I prayed to God every day not to be gay," I said.
       "Really? Me, too," he said. "He didn't answer my prayers, though."
       "Yes, He did, Todd. The answer was, 'No. I want you to be gay, and that's the way I made you.'"
       He got quiet, and I knew he was thinking.
       "I never thought about it like that before," he said.
       "There's no other way to think about it," I said.
       "But why does He want me to be gay?" he asked.
       "Now that I can't answer. I don't know why He wants me to be gay, either. I just know He does," I said.
       "Do scientists know why some people are gay?" he asked.
       "Well, there are different theories, but nobody knows for sure," I said. "Do you like to use the Internet?"
       "Yeah, why?"
       "Do some reading on the Internet about being gay. There's a lot out there, and you can learn a hell of a lot from it," I said.
       "Do you like the Internet?" he asked.
       "Yeah. It's all right," I said. I like it for certain things, especially for trips, but I can't spend hours at a time on it, like some people.
       "Do you ever look at the dirty pictures? Of guys?"
       This poor kid has had no guidance whatso-fucking-ever, I thought. He needs to be right where he is, right now.
       "I used to do that a good bit, and download movies, too. And I'd get my keyboard all sticky, too," I said.
       He giggled.
       "You been there and done that, ain't you?" I said.
       He giggled some more.
       "There ain't no shame in that, Bubba, and I know straight guys who do the same thing. With pictures of guys, too," I said.
       "Really? How can they be straight if they do that?" he asked.
       "Looking at those pictures ain't what made you gay. Those boys are just curious; that's all they are. That's just natural. You check out the boys in the locker room and the shower, don't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah, but I'm . . . "
       "Stop. You were fixing to say, 'Yeah, but I'm gay,' weren't you?" I said.
       He nodded.
       "Well, I've got a surprise for you. Everybody does it. Gay. Straight. It don't matter. We're all curious, and we all want to see what the other guy looks like," I said. "It's a competition thing. The straight boy knows that he's in competition with all the other straight boys to see who gets the girl. He wants to know what the competition looks like."
       "I never thought about it that way before," he said.
       "I know you haven't. That's why you got big brothers. To help you along," I said.
       "Do you think gay guys can change and become straight?" I asked.
       "Not if they're really, truly gay, I don't," I said. "You know there's a scale, don't you?"
       "A scale?" he asked. He didn't know what I was talking about.
       "Yeah, like the number line or something. Let's say one to ten. One is totally gay and ten is totally straight. There are people on every one of those numbers in between," I said. "The sixes and the sevens might be able to 'turn straight,' but not the ones and the twos. The ones and the twos might fuck a girl now and then, but that don't make 'em straight. I mean, a ten might take it up the ass and enjoy himself, but that don't make him gay," I said.
       He jerked on the bed, just like he had the last time.
       "You just came again, didn't you?" I asked.
       "Yes," he whimpered.
       "Did it feel good?" I asked.
       "Yes," he whimpered again.
       "That's all that matters, then. That and the mess you're going to have to deal with later on," I said.
       "Why do you always make me come?" he asked.
       "Me? I didn't make you come. Don't be telling people I make you come, because I don't. We were sitting here having a serious conversation about an important matter, and you had a spontaneous orgasm. That's all it was. When I make somebody come, he knows it, and I do, too," I said. I was talking loud.
       "Please don't be mad at me." He started tearing up.
       Oh, shit, I thought. But I was mad. I knew I had to calm down quick so I took a few deep breaths.
       "Okay, Bubba. Don't cry. I'm not mad at you, but I will be very mad at you if you tell anybody I made you come. Because I didn't, okay? We talked about this last time, remember? Tell me you won't tell anybody I made you come. Say it," I said.
       "I won't say you made me come," he said.
       "Eagle honor?"
       "Eagle honor," he said.
       "Okay, now. Where were we? Oh, the gayness scale and can gays turn straight. Do you understand what I was saying?" I asked.
       "Yes," he whimpered again.
       He needed more time before he could discuss this.
       "I don't feel good about this at all, Todd. You think I'm mad at you, don't you?"
       He didn't answer. Instead he looked down at his lap.
       "Bubba, I'm just getting to know you, and the more I get to know you, the more I like you. You're big, you're handsome, you act cute as hell. Think about what I said, and let's get together to talk another time, okay? But just know this. I am not mad at you," I said.
       He stood up to leave, and there was a big ole wet spot on the front of his jeans. He was still stiff as a board in there, too.
       "Can I have a hug?" he asked, just like a little kid would, after his daddy got through with him for being bad.
       That put me over a barrel. I didn't think I could deny the boy a hug under the circumstances, but I didn't want his cum all over me, either. I figured he was probably ready to shoot another load, too.
       "A quick one," I said, and I wrapped my arm around just his shoulders from the side.
       "Thank you, Kyle. I love you," he said.
       Oh, shit, I thought. Not another one.
       "We're brothers, and I love you, too," I said.
       "That's not what I mean," he said.
       "I know it's not, but that's the way it's going to be," I said. "I'm in love with Tim, and I will always be in love with Tim."
       "That's what Denny said you'd say."
       I didn't want to go there. That is another can of worms. Denny. Murray, too. Possibly Sean, as well. Shit. At least Sean knows how to get laid.
       "Goodnight, Todd. See you in the morning," I said.

Chapter 09

(Todd's Perspective)
       I've always gotten along well with older guys. I look a lot older than I am, and I guess that's part of the reason it's easy for me with them. The older guy I like the best is Kyle, and a lot of times I can't even be in the same room with him without getting an erection. You might not think that's such a bad thing, and it isn't. But the thing about me and erections is that mine just don't go away. A lot of times mine fire without me even touching myself or thinking about touching myself, and that's embarrassing if somebody notices it.
       "Kyle, can I talk to you?" I asked him one day.
       "Sure, Bubba? What's up? Your dick?" he joked.
       "Yeah, that's exactly it," I said. "Kyle, please don't joke or tease me about this, okay?"
       "Okay, Bubba. I won't. Sit here next to me on the bed," he said.
       "I don't want to do that," I said.
       "Todd, I thought we were friends, man. What's up with that?"
       "We are friends. I think the world of you, and I don't want to hurt your feelings. It's just what you do to me," I said. I hope that sounded right.
       "What do I do to you? I'm never done anything to you," Kyle said. He sounded offended.
       "You don't do it on purpose. You can't help doing it, but you do it to me," I said.
       "Todd, this isn't making any sense," he said.
       "I know. I feel so dumb," I said.
       "Well, you're not dumb. Can you tell me exactly what it is I do to you by accident?" he asked.
       "Don't laugh, okay? But you make me have an erection," I said. "I can't help it, and it's bothering me."
       He didn't say anything right away. He stuck his thumb nail between his bottom middle two teeth and just looked at me. Maybe he was thinking or something.
       "I'm not doing . . . " he started, but then he stopped.
       "What?" I asked.
       "I started to say, 'I'm not doing anything to cause that,' but then I realized you already said that," he said.
       "I know," I said.
       "I don't know what to say," he said.
       "I know. That's why I feel so dumb," I said. "I can't live here and not be around you, at least some of the time, but every time I am, I get hard and a lot of times I shoot."
       "Yeah, I know about that. I thought you knew that was normal," he said.
       "It might be normal, but it's a pain in the butt," I said. "I'm constantly having to change clothes. Plus, it's embarrassing."
       "Maybe you could wear a rubber," he said.
       "Huh?" I said.
       "To catch the cum when you shoot," he said. "That might work."
       "Do you mean a condom?" I asked.
       "Yeah. A condom. I call 'em rubbers, but yeah."
       "I'll try anything," I said. "Do you have some?"
       "No, but Justin and Brian do. Let's go borrow one," he said.
       "I don't want them to know," I said. "Please don't tell anybody."
       "Okay, I'll go get one," he said.
       Justin and Brian's room was next door. I could hear the conversation from where I was in Kyle's room because both bedroom doors were open.
       "Hey, Bubba. Y'all got a rubber I can have?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah. In the nightstand. What are you doing?" It was Brian's voice.
       "I'm going to do an experiment," Kyle said.
       "What kind of experiment?" Brian asked.
       "I really can't tell you, okay? It's for one of the other guys," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, please don't tell me . . . "
       "No, of course not, Bri. Sheesh! Gimme some credit, Bubba. He asked me not to say anything to anybody about it."
       Brian laughed.
       "Are you ever going to be able to tell?" Brian asked.
       "I don't know, but I need to go. Thanks, Brian," Kyle said.
       "No problem. We've got plenty," Brian said.
       "Yeah, I see that. What do y'all do? Buy 'em by the gross? I know you guys are hot and sexy, but . . . "
       Brian laughed. "A gross lasts us about a week."
       They both laughed, and then Kyle came back into his room.
       "Did you get it?" I asked.
       "Yeah. He about gave me the third degree, though," he said. He tossed three of them on the bed. "You know how these things work, don't you?"
       "In theory I do, but I've never even seen one," I said.
       I had seen pictures of condoms, and of guys wearing them, on the Internet, so I thought I could figure out how to put it on.
       "Well, I ain't putting it on you. Make sure you leave a little room at the end to catch the cum, you hear? Otherwise, it'll just backwash out the top," he said.
       "Thanks for doing this, Kyle," I said. "Let me go take care of business."
       "Good luck, Bubba. I hope this works. Remember, you've got to be hard to put it on," He said.
       "That won't be a problem," I said.
       He chuckled and grinned at me. God, I love him.
       * * *
       I went up to my room to put on the condom. I made sure my door was locked, and I dropped my pants to the floor. I pulled my underwear down far enough for me to get to my penis, but I didn't take them off. I had a little trouble getting the wrapper off, and then I remembered seeing a picture of a guy tearing it with his teeth. That worked fine.
       The shape of the condom was strange, and it was a lot smaller than I thought it would be. I unrolled it a little bit to leave a reservoir at the end like Kyle said to do, and I put it at the head of my penis. It felt soft. I pushed it back, but it didn't go over the head. It got away from me, and it fell on the floor. I picked it up and tried again. I wondered if I had the right size, or if they even came in different sizes. On the third try, I got it over the ridge at the base of the head, and it stayed put. I carefully unrolled it the rest of the way. I didn't want to put too much pressure on it because that would have made me shoot.
       Finally, I had it on. I really couldn't feel it. It was just there. I pulled my pants back up and went down to the den.
       Everybody was in there, talking about somebody named Chris who doesn't have to have physical therapy anymore.
       "Who are we talking about?" I asked Sean.
       "I don't know. Some friend of theirs," he said.
       I sat down next to Kyle on purpose. He looked at me and winked, but that was all. I felt confident that I'd be safe if anything happened. I stayed hard, as I knew I would, and, in a little while, what I thought might happen, did. I came. Kyle noticed me jerk a little when it happened, and he brushed the side of my thigh that was nearest him with his hand. Of course, I don't know if he did that on purpose or not.
       "Excuse me," I said, and I went upstairs.
       "Open up," Kyle said. He was at my bedroom door.
       "Just a minute," I said. I had gone into the bathroom to clean up, but I hadn't had time to get started. I let him in my room.
       "You had one, didn't you?" he asked.
       I nodded.
       "Nobody but me noticed anything," he said. "Is your dick soft? 'Cause if it ain't, leave it on. Sometimes I get soft right away, and sometimes I stay hard for a while."
       I wanted to tell him that his telling me stuff like that was going to keep me hard the rest of my life, but I didn't say anything. I knew he didn't realize what kind of effect what he was saying was having on me.
       "I'll leave it on. It worked, though. Is there a limit to the time you can wear one?" I asked.
       "I don't know," he said. "I guess your dick could rot off if you left it on too long. It'll come off by itself when you get soft, though. You do get soft sometimes, don't you?"
       "Now and then," I said.
       He laughed.
       "We're going to need to buy you some rubbers. Any favorite colors?"
       "No," I said, laughing. "When can we get them?"
       "Let's go right now. I need to get a few things at Publix, anyway. We won't take anybody else," he said.
       "I need to get some stuff in produce. Ask 'em at the counter where the rubbers are," Kyle said, after we had gone into the grocery store.
       "I can't do that. I'd be too embarrassed," I said.
       "Why? They'll just think you're practicing safe sex. They won't know why you want 'em," he said.
       "But still," I said.
       "God, almighty! All right. I'll ask 'em," he said. "I tell you what, son. Raising a houseful of boys is a pain in the butt sometimes." His voice was gruff and grumbly, but I knew he wasn't mad at me. He was just being cute.
       We got the condoms, some fruit in produce, and Kyle asked for a carton of cigarettes.
       "Are those for you?" I asked, meaning the cigarettes. I didn't think he smoked.
       "No. They're for Sean. He can't buy 'em himself," he said.
       "Why? Too young?" I asked.
       "Yeah. There's nothing in the law that says he's too young to smoke 'em, as far as I know. They just can't sell 'em to him," he said.
       We paid for the stuff, went home, and I felt as though I had solved a problem. A sticky one, at that. I was starting to sound like Kyle and Justin, I thought, and I laughed quietly at myself.

(Scott's Perspective)
       "Sean and I broke up," I said to Colleen and Jenny. We were at "our" table in the lunchroom at school on Monday.
       "Is that why he's not here?" Colleen asked.
       "Exactly," I said.
       "It's probably for the best. I've been hearing all kinds of rumors about him," Jen said.
       "Like what?" I asked.
       "Well, like he's really straight," Jen said.
       "What?! That's not true," I said.
       "I've heard that he sleeps around a lot," Colleen said.
       "That one is true," I said. "And with a lot of straight guys."
       "Maybe that's what I heard," Jen said. "Not that he's straight but that he likes straight boys."
       "Are you crushed, Scottie?" Colleen asked. "We'll always be here for you, you know."
       "I'm more depressed and pissed off about it than I am crushed. But, at least now I won't have to sneak around and hide it from my mom," I said.
       "I thought she knew you're gay," Colleen said.
       "She does, but she doesn't know he and I were having sex," I said. "She would never approve of that."
       "Let me get this right. She's okay with the fact that you're gay, but she doesn't want you having sex? I'm afraid that doesn't make sense," Jen said.
       "It's because of my age, not the sex itself, per se," I said. "She knows gay people have sex and that I will eventually. She's never actually said anything more than, 'I hope you'll wait,' but I know what she means by that. No sex until I'm older."
       "So what happened? Did you guys have a big fight?" Colleen asked.
       "Something like that," I said.
       "Will you tell us about it? Or is it too painful?" Colleen asked.
       "No, I'll tell," I said.
       * * *
       The first weekend in February, Sean and I went to the mall in town on Saturday to go to the arcade. Now that he had his car, it was easier for us to do stuff like that.
       "That guy's hot, isn't he?" he said.
       "Which one?" I asked. There were actually several boys in that place that I thought were hot.
       "The one at that machine over there. Look at him. Damn," he said.
       He was hot, all right. I wasn't getting anything on my gaydar screen from him, though.
       "Do you think he's gay?" I asked.
       "Does it matter?" he asked in return.
       "No, not really. He's still nice to look at, gay or straight," I said.
       I checked out Sean's crotch, and he had a hard-on. I didn't think it was for me, though. I was a little pissed off at him, but I also knew you really can't help those things.
       We got busy with the games, and I didn't pay any more attention to Sean or his hard-on. I saw a kid I know, and he challenged me to Final Destiny. Since I more or less live for that game, I got totally engrossed in playing him.
       "I hate to quit, but I've gotta take a leak," the kid said.
       "I'll stay here and hold the machine," I said.
       "Okay," and he took off for the restroom.
       He came back in a few minutes.
       "You won't believe this. There's a guy in the men's room giving blowjobs," he said when he came back.
       "Really? Who is it?" I asked.
       "I don't know. I didn't see him. He's in one of the stalls, and there were three dudes in there waiting in line for him," he said.
       "My God. You didn't want one?" I asked.
       "Naw. Scottie, you don't have to answer this, okay, but I heard somebody say they thought you're gay," he said.
       "Would it bother you if I am?" I asked.
       "Not a bit. I've known you since second grade. I don't care if you're gay. I've got a bunch of gay friends," he said.
       "Well, now you have another one," I said.
       "Cool," he said.
       That was it. We went back to playing the game. In a little while I noticed the "hot" guy come back in the arcade from the direction of the restrooms. He walked up to two friends of his and told them something that made them laugh.
       "No, shit!" one of the friends said loud enough for me to hear him. "I'm going. I want one, too."
       I figured it was the blowjob guy he wanted to visit.
       "How do you feel about that guy in the restroom giving blowjobs?" I asked my friend.
       "I think it's pretty sleazy. They bust people in there all the time for that. That's one reason I wasn't interested in one," he said.
       "It wouldn't make you gay, you know," I said.
       "Oh, I know. I'm just not that into sex, especially in public," he said.
       After a while, I got to wondering where Sean was. I didn't think he'd just leave me there, but I hadn't seen him in a couple of hours. My friend on Final Destiny had to leave, so I started looking around for my boyfriend. He was nowhere to be found in the arcade. I had to go to the bathroom, so I walked in that direction. When I got in there, the place was fumed up with cigarette smoke, and there was a guy waiting in front of a stall that had the door shut. As I was washing my hands, the door of the stall opened, and I saw in the mirror that Sean was in the stall. I almost crapped in my pants.
       "I'm next," I said to the boy who had been waiting.
       "Like hell, you are," that guy said. "I've been waiting twenty fucking minutes, and you just walked in."
       Sean had a look of terror on his face. His fly was open, but I didn't see his dick.
       "Let's go," I said to Sean.
       "All right," Sean said and started to leave the stall.
       "Wait a fucking minute, dude. I want a blowjob. You ain't going nowhere." He pushed Sean back into the stall, stepped in, and shut the door.
       "I've got to go, man. Another time, okay?" Sean pleaded.
       "Now, motherfucker. I've been hard for twenty fucking minutes waiting for this, and I want to get off," the guy said.
       "He needs to go home," Sean said in a pleading voice.
       "Yeah? Well, I need to get off," the guy said.
       "Ow," Sean said. I heard what I thought was a muffled punch. "Scott, wait outside. This won't take long."
       I was livid. I couldn't leave because he was my ride. Plus, we had to break up. That was the last straw. We hadn't seen much of each other since before Christmas. I knew he had a lot of family things to do, but he hadn't even called me, much less come around. I guess he was busy giving blowjobs to the boys at the mall.
       "I can explain," Sean said, after he followed the other guy out of the men's room.
       "No you can't. I want to go home," I said.
       "Scott, don't dis me like this, man," he said as we were walking fast toward the parking lot.
       "Dis you?! You're kidding, right?" I said.
       "I know what it looks like, but . . "
       "Sean, I've listened to your bullshit and your lies long enough. It's over," I said.
       "Just like that? After all this time? I thought you loved me," he said. "You said you loved me. Were you just lying?"
       "No. When I said I loved you, I meant it. But you don't love me, and I don't love you anymore, either," I said.
       We were at his car by then. He unlocked it using the remote, and we got in. He just sat there.
       "Start the fucking car, please," I said.
       "Can't we talk?" he asked.
       "No. Take me home," I said.
       The drive home was in silence. He pulled into my driveway.
       "Can I come in?" he asked.
       "No! What part of 'it's over' don't you understand?" I asked.
       "I think you're being unreasonable," he said.
       "I'm not being unreasonable. Look, I caught you red-handed giving blowjobs to a line of guys in the fucking mall bathroom. This is the first time we've been out in weeks, and you never call me. I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore. In fact, I don't even want to be your friend anymore," I said. "Goodbye." And that's how we left it.
       * * *
       "Oh, my God! The drama!" Colleen said.
       "You poor baby," Jen said. "I'm dying for a smoke. Let's go."
       "It's raining," I said.
       "Oh, shit," Jen said. "Let's go somewhere and be depressed."
       That actually brought a smile to my face.
       "Let's go to the drama room," Colleen said. "In fact, Scott, that's probably where you should have told that story. Buck up, Buckaroo."
       I laughed.
       "I'm going to miss going to Sean's house. I like his brothers, or whatever the hell they are," Jen said.
       "Yeah, I know. Those are really nice guys. Sean was a nice guy, too, for a while," I said.
       "Maybe we can still be their friends and just not his," Colleen said.
       "It could happen," I said.
       We were passing a boys' bathroom on our way to the drama room when Bill Harmon, the school policeman, was coming out. He had a drug dog and its handler, and a boy I don't know, in handcuffs, and Sean, in handcuffs, too. Sean saw me.
       "What happened?" I asked Sean.
       "No talking," Officer Harmon said.
       "Is he under arrest?" I asked.
       "Yes. No drugs, like we thought, though," Harmon said.
       "Where are you taking him?" I asked.
       "Sheriff's office," Harmon said, and he and the others were off down the hall.
       "I've got to do something," I said to Colleen and Jen.
       "What do you have to do?" Colleen asked.
       "I don't know, but something," I said. "He's going to jail."
       "I know. There's nothing you can do, except maybe tell Tim and Brian," Colleen said.
       I knew Tim and Brian go out every day for lunch, and there were still ten minutes left in the lunch period. They probably weren't back on campus yet, but that's what I had to do. Tell them. Not that they could do anything, either, but Sean is their "brother," after all.
       "Do you know where they are?" Colleen asked.
       "I have no idea where they are, or even if they're back from lunch," I said.
       "Let's go get passes from Maggie so we can be out of class," Colleen said. "It's time we lived drama, instead of just studying it."
       Jen and I both laughed. Colleen is fabulous, and I love her.
       Colleen got three passes from the student director of the current play, not Maggie Storm, the teacher. I didn't know if the administration would honor those or not, but we could always plead ignorance.
       "They must have cell phones," Colleen said.
       "Yeah, they do, but I don't know their numbers. I just know Sean's," I said.
       "Is anybody at home at the house?" Jen asked.
       "I have no idea. Kyle and Justin are both in college, so they might be," I said.
       "Let's try that. Do you know the number?" Colleen asked me.
       "No," I said.
       She dialed Information and asked for the number of Kyle Goodson.
       "No. Ask for Kevin Foley or Rick Mashburn. The phone's not in Kyle's name," I said.
       "What was I thinking?" she said, dramatically.
       She got the main house number and punched it into her cell.
       "Hi. This is Colleen Boyle. Is this Kyle?"
       Pause.
       "Okay. Thanks," she said.
       "I think it was Justin. He's getting Kyle," she said to us.
       "Kyle? It's Colleen."
       Pause.
       "Fine thanks. Well, sort of fine. Your brother's been arrested."
       Pause.
       "No. Of course not. It was Sean," she said.
       She covered the mouthpiece. "He thought Tim had been arrested." She did her face in a "go figure" expression.
       "No, but Scott's here. Do you want to talk to him?" she asked.
       Pause.
       "He wants to talk to you," she said, handing me her phone.
       "What the fuck's going on?" Kyle demanded.
       "I don't know. But he was arrested. Bill Harmon, the SRO, is taking him to the Sheriff's office. Kyle, he and another boy I don't know were in handcuffs. They had a drug dog with them, but Bill said it wasn't drugs, like they had suspected."
       "Well, thank God for that. What was it, then?" Kyle asked.
       "I don't know. He didn't say," I said.
       "Shit, this really fucks up my day. I've got two classes this afternoon. Fuck 'em, though. I'll bet I know what it was, and it ain't going to be pretty," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I have a theory, too," I said.
       "Where are y'all right now?" Kyle asked.
       "Right outside the drama room," I said.
       "Go back in the drama room and tell the student director y'all need passes. Then go up to the main office. I'll be there in ten minutes," Kyle said.
       The tardy bell to start fourth period rang.
       "Was that the bell?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Okay. Meet me in the front of school. Don't tell anybody, okay?"
       "Okay," I said.
       "Okay. Bye," he said.
       "He wants us to meet him in the front of the school," I said. "By the way, he told me to get passes from the student director, so maybe these things are good, after all."
       "Probably not, but at least we think like he does. That's encouraging," Colleen said.
       Kyle parked in the space reserved for the SGA president right in front of the school. He must just be used to parking there. Of course, it was empty, so maybe the president wasn't at school and Kyle knew it.
       "Thanks for calling, y'all. This is going to be bad. I just know it," he said, walking into the building.
       "Hi, Kyle! I want a hug," the receptionist lady said, kind of pouty.
       "Hey, girl," Kyle said, and he hugged her. "How's my best girlfriend?"
       "You look so good, Kyle," she said.
       "You do, too, Meredith. Would you call Miss Sally and tell her I'm here. I need to see her, and it's kind of an emergency," Kyle said.
       "What's the matter?" the lady said.
       "One of my little brothers just got arrested, apparently," Kyle said. "Sean Kelly?"
       Her face got real serious.
       "Yeah, he did. He's your brother?" she asked.
       "He's my foster brother. Or honorary foster brother. Something like that," Kyle said. "Just call Miss Sally, please, okay?"
       "Oh, sure. I'm sorry, Kyle," she said. "I don't think he's been in big trouble before."
       "Well, maybe not here," Kyle said.
       Mrs. Ortega, the school principal, came right out from her office after the lady called her. She and Kyle hugged, like they were long-lost cousins or something.
       "Come into my office, Baby," she said to Kyle, and the two of them walked off together.
       "Shit! Did you see that?" Colleen said. "I think she had an orgasm when she saw him."
       "What do you three want?" the receptionist asked. "Show me your passes, and you'd better have them."
       We showed her the passes from the student director.
       "Who is this person?" she asked, questioning the signature.
       "Oh, she's the student director. We're in drama this period," Colleen said. "We're the ones who called Kyle."
       "I don't know about a student writing passes," she said.
       "Oh, it's totally valid. Even Kyle said so," Colleen said. She was using her best acting skills at that moment, and they were considerable.
       "Okay. Well, go sit down or something. You can't stand here in front of the desk," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am," Colleen said. "I hate that bitch," she said, under her breath, after we had taken seats as far away from her as we could get. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall in Ortega's office right now."
       "You were awesome, girl," Jen said.
       "Thank you," Colleen said. "This is the point at which I should be lighting up a cigarette, but, of course, the children can't smoke. They may grow up to be like their parents, if they do."
       "Very bitter," Jen said.
       "Thank you," Colleen said.
       "And it was a fabulous line," Jen said.
       "I wonder what's going to happen to Sean," I said.
       "I don't know, but I'm on pins and needles," Colleen said.
       "Can you tell the difference between the pins and the needles?" Jen asked.
       "Oh my God, yes," Colleen said. "The needles are much sharper."
       Jen and I both laughed.
       We cooled our heels for about fifteen minutes, and then Kyle came out, followed by Mrs. Ortega.
       "I'll keep him in my thoughts and prayers, Kyle," she said, and she actually kissed Kyle on the forehead.
       "God, what a suck-up he must be," Colleen said when she saw that.
       Kyle walked over to us.
       "Thanks for calling me, y'all," he said to the three of us.
       "So what went down?" Jen asked.
       "He did, apparently. On at least three boys. They only arrested the one he was with at the time they went in there. The other two had hauled ass," Kyle said.
       "Why did they arrest him for that?" I asked.
       "Well, it's lewd and lascivious conduct in a public place. Apparently, if you do it in a school, it's a double whammy. There go his nuts, right there," Kyle said.
       "So, he's fucked?" Colleen said.
       "Exactly," Kyle said. "They got the whole damn thing on tape. I saw it. No mistaking who it was. They're going to get those other two, too, if they can identify them. I didn't recognize anybody except Sean, but there's no mistaking him."
       "How can they get that on tape? That's outrageous. Taping people in the bathroom? Have they no shame?" Colleen said.
       "That's what Miss Sally said, too. She's been against the surveillance cameras in the bathrooms from the get-go, but it's out of her hands. It's a law enforcement thing, and a school board thing," Kyle said. "Evidently, they think they can get around the privacy issue because they only start taping when they see the beginning of a criminal act. Somebody monitors the cameras during lunches, and they only hit the 'record' button when they see something they're going to want for evidence. I might have to volunteer to watch the boys' bathrooms."
       "Oh, Kyle. That is so gay. So fabulously gay," Colleen said.
       He and Colleen and Jen were laughing. Those three really like one another. I, of course, was ready to get on my back, naked, downtown, if that's where Kyle would have me. Neither one of them would kick him out of their beds, either. The trouble is, he wouldn't ever want their beds, but he might some day want mine. Naw. Random fantasies.
       "So, what do we do now?" Colleen asked. "Surely not go to class."
       "Are your passes good for the whole period?" Kyle asked.
       "Yes, and there are only twenty minutes left," she said.
       "I'd go somewhere and chill. Or leave, if you have transportation," Kyle said.
       "We've got play practice after school, and all of us are in it," Jen said.
       "Well, go someplace and chill. I used to go to the TV production studio when I needed to," he said.
       "Yeah, but they knew you. They don't know us," Colleen said. "We'll find our way. Thanks for everything, Kyle."
       "No. Thank you for calling me. There's going to be a shitstorm at my house, and I can't imagine what's going to happen. Your boyfriend did it good this time, Scott," Kyle said.
       "He's not my boyfriend any more," I said.
       "Since when?"
       "Since Saturday afternoon. I'll tell you about it sometime," I said.
       "Okay. Hey, now listen. Just because those two are broke up, it don't mean the three of you can't come to the house to party and hang out with us, okay? Y'all are our friends separate from Sean, you hear. I mean that, too," Kyle said.
       "Okay. Thanks, Bubba," I said.
       He looked at me a little funny because I called him 'Bubba," and then he smiled at me.
       "See you later, Bubba. Girls," he said, and he was gone.
       "Oh, my God. My panties are sodden," Colleen said.
       "Sodden?" I didn't know that word.
       "Damp. Moist. Wet. I'm so horny right now, I would fuck an extra-long chili-cheese Coney, if I could get my hands on one," Colleen said.
       "Hmh. I ate one of those on my second date with Sean," I said.
       "Really? Was it his?" Jen asked.
       "No. It was a real one. From Sonic. Let's go," I said.

Chapter 10

(Kyle's Perspective)
       God, almighty! There was going to be hell to pay at our house that night. I was just hoping against hope they were going to release Sean on some kind of bond, or bail, or whatever the hell it was. I didn't know what any of that meant, but I knew you had to put up some money. I didn't know if they took a credit card or not. Most places do. I was prepared with credit cards and my checkbook, either way.
       When I finally got to the Sheriff's office, which is way the hell out from where we are, up in the town of Lynnville, which was kind of like an upper-middle-class suburban town right next to Emerald Beach, Kevin and Rick were already there. I guessed I wouldn't have to do this on my own, and that was good. I had only been to that town a few times, mostly for games at Crawford High School and to play paintball.
       "Hey. What are you doing here?" Rick said, when he saw me.
       "What am I doing here? My brother's in jail. I came to get him out, that's what," I said.
       "You know what happened?" Rick asked.
       "In general, yeah, but not the details," I said.
       "We don't know the details yet, either. We know it wasn't drugs, though," Rick said.
       "It could have been, you know?" I said.
       "I figured that," Rick said.
       "It was lewd and lascivious," I said. "He was giving boys blowjobs in the bathroom during lunch."
       "Whoa!" Kevin said.
       "I wish I was wrong, Kevin, but I'm not," I said. "Without breaking my word to him, he really likes Tearoom sex, especially with straight guys. He likes giving blowjobs."
       "God," Kevin said. "What do we do now?"
       "I don't know," I said. "Why are we in a courtroom? Is it the trial already? I thought that took a while."
       "This is first appearance. This is where he pleads guilty or not guilty. If he says 'not guilty,' he has to go to trial," Kevin said. "Otherwise . . . "
       Otherwise, he goes to jail, I thought.
       "Mr. Goodson, please approach the bench," the judge said.
       When he said my name, I just about shit. I didn't know what the fuck was going on. I looked at Kevin and Rick, on either side of me, and I didn't get anything from their faces. I almost lost my lunch.
       "What do I do?" I asked.
       "Go on up there, Kyle. He wants to talk to you," Rick said. "Do you know him?"
       "No, I don't know him, and I don't want to know him," I said.
       "Well, you better get up there," Kevin whispered to me.
       God almighty! What the fuck was this all about? The damn judge wants to talk to me.
       I walked up to the bench.
       "I'm Kyle Goodson, Judge," I said.
       "Hi, Kyle. I couldn't remember your first name. I'm Henderson Elliot. Nice to meet you. You don't know me, but I know who you are," he said.
       "Nice to meet you, too, but I'm scared to death here, Judge. I didn't do nothing, Judge. I swear to God on my Eagle honor," I said.
       He thought that was funny. I didn't think it was funny one bit.
       "Kyle, I've known your daddy since he and I were in the first grade together. Since I saw your picture in the paper and on TV a couple of years ago, when you and that other boy saved those people from drowning, I've wanted to meet you. That's all this is, Kyle. I spotted you out there, and I wanted to meet you, son."
       "Yes, sir," I said. You could have called me, I thought.
       "Did I scare you just now?" he asked.
       "Yeah, pretty good, Judge," I said.
       "I'm sorry, son," he said. "But you're one of my favorite local heroes. And you're every bit as manly as I was hoping you would be. This country could use more like you and your friend, son. That's all I wanted to say."
       "Thank you, Judge. Can I go sit down back again? I mean, sit back down again?"
       "Yes, and thank you for what you did, son. What's the other boy's name?" he asked.
       "Tim Murphy," I said.
       "If you see Tim, tell him 'thank you' for me, too, okay?" he said.
       "Okay, I will. Thank you, Judge," I said.
       I was shaking all over.
       "What did you do?" Rick asked me. He knew I wasn't in trouble with the judge, and he was just teasing me.
       "I didn't do anything. He just wanted to meet me for saving that lady and her baby a while back. He knows my daddy," I said. "I wish people would forget about that shit."
       "Yeah, well, you and Tim are local heroes, Kyle," Rick said.
       "Yeah, well, I don't like this whole thing," I said. "Are we going to be able to take Sean home?"
       "I think so," Kevin said. "He's with the lawyer right now. They're going to come back with a plea."
       "He's going to have to plead 'guilty,' 'cause that's what he is," I said.
       "Let's wait and see. Maybe not," Kevin said.
       "Who is his lawyer?" I asked.
       "Jimmy Spencer," Kevin said.
       "The neighbor?" I asked.
       "Yeah. The gay lawyer neighbor," Rick said, "who knows us."
       "I guess that makes a difference," I said. "But, guys, I know he did what they're saying he did. I saw the tape of it."
       "I don't have a doubt you're right, Kyle, but that's not necessarily how the law works," Kevin said.
       Sean and Jimmy came back into the courtroom just then.
       "Do we have a plea?" the judge asked.
       "Nolo contendere, your honor," Jimmy said.
       "What does that mean?" I whispered to Kevin.
       "It means 'no contest,'" he said. "There won't be a trial. It should lessen Sean's sentence, too. Let's listen," Kevin said.
       "The defendant has pleaded nolo contendere, and this court sentences him to a week in a correctional facility for juveniles, of the Sheriff's choosing, eight months' community service with a minimum of ten hours a week, and three years' probation."
       "Whoa, that seems like a lot for giving blowjobs to guys who wanted them," I said. "Does he have to go right away?"
       "Hush," Kevin said.
       "Confinement in the juvenile facility will begin at five o'clock tomorrow afternoon, pending space available. Next case," the judge said.
       "What does 'pending space available' mean?" I asked.
       "I guess it means if they have room for him. If not, he'll have to wait until they do have room," Kevin said.
       Jimmy Spencer and Sean walked over to us.
       "Let's grab some coffee at the Hardee's down the block. I think we need to talk," Jimmy said.
       "Hey, Sean," I said.
       He looked at me, but he didn't say anything. I knew he was embarrassed to death, but I couldn't help that. He did it, not me.
       In the restaurant, they got coffee, but I got a hamburger, fries, and a coke. Sean didn't get anything.
       "That went pretty smoothly. The judge never did say specifically what the offense was," Jimmy said. "And that's a good thing."
       "I thought juvenile cases were handled more privately than this," Rick said.
       "They are, but the judge treated it as though it were adult court. That may be grounds for an appeal, if you think that's worth it," Jimmy said. "He got off very lightly, by the way. I honestly expected six months in detention. And that's what he would have gotten, if there had been a trial."
       Damn, I thought. I knew he committed a crime and all, but they had to have been willing victims.
       "Only one count, too," Jimmy said.
       "What does that mean?" I asked.
       "That means they only charged him for the boy they found him with, not the other two," Jimmy said.
       "What's going to happen to him?" I asked. "The other boy, I mean."
       "I don't know, but probably the same thing," Jimmy said, "unless they also charge him with solicitation. Who knows?"
       "Sean, I don't know what to say," Kevin said.
       "Son, we've talked about this," Rick said.
       "I know," Sean said weakly. "I fucked up, and I know it."
       "Is that all you've got to say, Sean? That you fucked up?" Rick asked.
       "What do you want me to say, Rick? That I hate myself? Well, I do hate myself, but that's kind of old news, isn't it?" Sean said.
       "How about saying you're sorry?" Rick asked.
       "Okay. I'm sorry," Sean said, not much louder than a mumble.
       "Sorry you did it, or sorry you got caught?" Rick asked. That man was pissed off, and I knew it. I hoped Sean knew it, too.
       "I'm sorry I did it. It was wrong, and I knew it was wrong when I was doing it. I won't do it again," Sean said.
       "That's better," Rick said. "Where's your car?"
       "Still at school, I guess," Sean said.
       "Give me the key," Rick said.
       Sean looked at Rick like Rick had told him to put his dick on the table. He didn't make a move.
       "Give me the key, Sean," Rick said again.
       "What are you going to do with it? You have my spare key already," he said.
       "I know, and now I'm going to have both of them. You won't need it for awhile," Rick said.
       Sean slowly dug his car key out of his pocket. I thought Rick ought to check it for cum or something, but I kept my mouth shut. Rick handed the key to me.
       "You get his car," he said.
       "Yes, sir," I said. He and Kevin were in no mood for joking, and I knew that.
       "Any idea about whether space is available for him?" Kevin asked Jimmy.
       "No, none at all," Jimmy said.
       "Babe, Tyrone Williams might know something about that," Rick said.
       "He's with DCF, isn't he? Department of Children and Families?" Jimmy asked.
       "Yeah," Kevin said. "Do you know him?"
       "We've met a few times. I do a bit of family law, so our paths have crossed. His agency doesn't run juvenile detention facilities, but he might know somebody who would know. It wouldn't hurt to give him a call," Jimmy said.
       "Okay," Kevin said, and he took out his cell. He hit a speed dial button, and Mr. Tyrone must have answered it himself.
       Kevin explained the situation.
       "Tyrone, I'd really appreciate that, if you would," Kevin said.
       Pause.
       "Okay. I'll wait to hear from you. I'm on my cell. You've got that number, don't you?"
       Pause.
       "That's it. Okay, thanks. Bye." Kevin hung up.
       "He's going to find out and get back to us. He said he knew they were full last week, but he didn't know for sure about right now," Kevin said.
       "Where is it?" I asked.
       "It's the Regional Juvenile Detention Center on 11th Street. It takes kids from several counties around here," Jimmy said. "It's not a terrible place. It's a lot better than the Sheriff's Boot Camp, that's for sure."
       "What are they going to do to me there?" Sean asked.
       "Well, I know they have an educational program run by the school district. Beyond that, I really don't know," Jimmy said.
       "Does he have to report tomorrow, or will they pick him up?" Kevin asked.
       "That's a good question. In other juvenile cases that I've been involved in, there has always been a trial. They've just taken the kid from the court room. I suspect somebody from DJJ will be in touch with you," Jimmy said.
       "DJJ?" Kevin asked.
       "Sorry. Department of Juvenile Justice. I forget that you guys aren't as familiar with these different agencies as I am," Jimmy said.
       Kevin's phone rang, and he answered it.
       "Hi, Tyrone. What did you find out?" Kevin said into the phone.
       Pause.
       "I see," Kevin said. "Listen, we were just talking. Does he report to the place, or will somebody pick him up?"
       Pause.
       "Okay, he'll be there, and he will definitely be on time. Thanks, Bubba. I really appreciate it. Bye." Kevin hung up. "He said they're full right now, but they're turning several loose tomorrow. So, he's to report Wednesday afternoon at five. On time."
       "Does he go to school tomorrow and Wednesday?" Rick asked.
       "Oh, definitely," Jimmy said. "He's not sick, and there's really no reason for him to be out. We don't want to complicate this with truancy."
       "Oh, God, no," Rick said.
       "Do you have any classes with Reid or Wade?" Jimmy asked.
       "No," Sean said.
       "What about with Denny or Murray?" Kevin asked.
       "One with Denny. That's all," he said.
       "We've got enough people in the building to keep an eye on him," Rick said. "We can call Mike, too. He'll keep an eye on him."
       "I don't need anybody to keep an eye on me," Sean said.
       "That's what you think, mister," Rick said. "I know that that school is a very tolerant place, but what you've done takes it to a whole new level. Your brothers and your friends need to watch your back."
       Sean didn't say anything. I had finished my snack by then, and I was ready to go.
       "Kyle, on second thought, give me that key back. Kevin, you can just drop me off at the school, and I'll drive it home," Rick said.
       I gave him the key.
       "Where is it, Sean?" Rick asked.
       "It's in general parking in front of the school. There isn't a sophomore parking lot," he said.
       "The lot will be empty by the time you get there," I said.
       Technically, freshmen and sophomores aren't supposed to drive to school. That's why there isn't a sophomore parking lot. A lot of them do, though.
       "Anything else for us, Jimmy?" Kevin asked.
       "No. I'm just sorry the whole thing happened," Jimmy said.
       "We are, too. We appreciate your help, neighbor," Kevin said. "Make sure we get a bill, you hear?"
       "Don't be silly. I'm not going to bill my friends. Would you bill me, if the situation were reversed?" Jimmy asked.
       "Well, that's not why we called you, and we don't expect that," Rick said.
       "I know you don't, but that's what you're getting. Next time, you're paying," Jimmy said, with a little grin.
       "There damn sure better not ever be a 'next time,'" Rick said. "But thank you, man. We appreciate it."
       "Okay. See you in the neighborhood," Jimmy said.
       We all shook hands with him, and then we left.
       "Can I ride with Kyle?" Sean asked.
       "No. You're riding with us," Rick said. "Get in."
       * * *
       I got to the house before they did. I didn't know if Kevin and Rick had to swing by the office or not.
       "Where you been, Kyle?" Justin asked, as soon as I walked in the den.
       "With Sean," I said.
       "I figured that. Why didn't you tell me before you left the house?" he asked.
       "I should have. I'm sorry. I just got a little bit rattled when Scott called. How much do you know?" I asked.
       "They caught him giving blowjobs in the men's room, right?" Justin said.
       "Who'd you talk to about it?"
       "Brian. He said it's all over school," Jus said.
       "Shit. I was afraid of that. I'm not surprised, though. Good news travels fast, don't it?" I said.
       "Yeah. So what did they say?" he asked.
       "He's got to serve a week in detention, starting Wednesday afternoon. Eight months of community service, minimum ten hours a week, and three years' probation. Jimmy Spencer from next door was his lawyer. He said it was a pretty light sentence, and they only got him on one count and not the three he deserved," I said.
       "They had the trial already?" he asked. He seemed very surprised.
       "There's not going to be a trial. He pleaded 'no contest,' so there doesn't need to be a trial," I said.
       "'No contest?' Is that the same as pleading 'guilty?'" Justin asked.
       "Evidently," I said. "I don't know the technicalities. That seemed to make some kind of difference, though."
       "How's Sean doing?" Justin asked.
       "He's acting like a prick. What can I say? He is a prick," I said.
       Rick and Sean came in, and Kevin was right behind them.
       "Where is everybody? Y'all round 'em up," Rick said to me and Justin.
       "He's pissed off, ain't he?" Justin said under his breath to me as we were going upstairs.
       "He is very pissed off," I said. "Both of 'em are. There ain't going to be any joking in this meeting coming up."
       "I already figured that out. I'm keeping my mouth shut. The less they know I'm there, the better," Justin said.
       We all got together in the den, and nobody said a word. They probably already knew what had happened. If they didn't, they could tell by the look on Kevin's and Rick's faces that this was serious business.
       "How much do y'all know?" Kevin asked, to start it off.
       Everybody looked from face to face, nobody wanting to say anything. Finally, I couldn't stand it.
       "They've got the general idea," I said.
       "Okay. Well, your brother, Sean, is going to be gone for a week. Then, he's going to be doing ten hours of community service a week for the next eight months. We don't yet know the details about any of that, except that he has to be at the Juvenile Detention Center at five o'clock, sharp, on Wednesday. Sean, is there something you'd like to say to your brothers?" Kevin asked.
       "Just that I'm sorry," Sean said, real low.
       "A little louder, please," Kevin said.
       "I said I'm sorry," Sean said, loud enough for us to hear. There was a little edge to that voice, though, and I knew they caught it.
       "Look, I'm so fucking fed up with you right now, Sean, I could scream. Lose the attitude, you hear me?" Rick said.
       "Or what?" Sean said.
       Rick got red. I could see a vein in his temple just a-pulsing. Surely Sean has lost his fucking mind, I thought.
       "Sean, I think you need to get up to your room. And stay there," Rick said.
       I could not believe the control that man was showing.
       Sean got up slowly from the sofa, and he started walking to the stairs in the hall.
       "Wait a minute. Give me your cell phone. Kyle and Justin, y'all go up there with him and get the computer out of his room," Rick said. "Bring it down here."
       "What about the TV?" Justin asked.
       "He can have his TV. Just get the computer," Rick said.
       Sean gave Rick the phone, and then he started back. Justin and I were on his tail. Nobody said anything the whole way up to the third floor. I felt like a jailer taking the condemned man to the execution chamber. He had a laptop computer in his room.
       "I think this thing belongs to me, anyway," Justin said.
       "That's right. It does. That's the one Tim and I gave you for your birthday, ain't it?" I said.
       "Yeah. Now that I know something about it, I'm going to start using it," Justin said.
       "Well, have fun," Sean said, real sarcastic.
       Justin ignored what he said, and he and I went downstairs.
       "This is Justin's computer, you know. It doesn't belong to Sean," I said, once we were back in the den.
       "Well, it's back in your hands now," Rick said.
       "Why did you take his phone and his computer, Rick?" Tim asked, just as polite as you please.
       Rick got this real mad look in his face, like he thought Tim had defied him or something.
       "Rick, don't get on his case. He didn't do a thing but ask a question," I said.
       "You're right. I'm sorry, Tim. I know you didn't do anything, Bubba. This thing has gotten right on my last nerve, and I apologize to all of you for being upset," Rick said.
       "Rick, we understand that. I think we're all plenty upset," I said. "But why did you take 'em away?"
       "I took the phone and the computer because I don't know who he communicates with," Rick said. "He'll get them back, eventually. Or another computer, if Justin wants to use his own."
       "You think he might be part of a ring? In some kind of international blowjob conspiracy, or something?" Justin asked just as serious as he could be.
       Leave it to him to make us laugh, and laugh we did. I think everybody needed that. I know I did.
       "How did you find out about it so fast, Kyle?" Kevin asked.
       "Scott called here, and I talked to him. He saw Sean and the others come out of the bathroom with the SRO," I said.
       "SRO?" Rick asked.
       "School Resource Officer. Bill Harmon. I know him," I said.
       "I wonder why Sean wasn't hanging out with Scott," Rick said.
       "Colleen Boyle told me after school today that Sean and Scott broke up. Scott told her about it at lunch today," Denny said.
       "When did they break up?" Kevin asked.
       "Saturday. Scott caught Sean giving oral sex to some boys in the restroom at the mall. They had gone to the arcade," Denny said.
       Oh, shit, I thought. It gets worse.
       "Guys, we've got a very troubled young man on our hands," Kevin said. "I don't really know what Rick and I are going to do, but it's going to take a lot of patience and cooperation from all of you. I honestly thought we had him back on an even keel after the St. Augustine thing, but evidently not. Thank all of you for the love and support you've given him already, and please don't stop now," Kevin said.
       "Is it okay for us to talk to him?" Brian asked.
       "Oh, sure, Bri. I sent him to his room to get him out of here, not to put him in solitary confinement. I was afraid I was going to lose it, and I didn't want him anywhere near me, if I did," Rick said.
       "I thought you done good, Bubba," Justin said. "I wanted to wring his damn neck. Still do."
       Rick smiled.
       "No blood, broken bones, or broken teeth, okay, Jus?" Rick said.
       "Don't worry about that. I ain't touching him. Tell you the truth, I feel sorry for the boy. What he's doing ain't because he's gay. He's out of control, and that's a fact. I hope there ain't some pissed-off boys at his school that were next in line that he didn't get a chance to get to," Justin said.
       Everybody laughed a little bit.
       "What he just said is a good point, and we need to talk about that," Kevin said. "All of you who go to Beachside are going to need to keep your eyes and ears open for the next couple of days, you hear? By the time he gets back from detention, everybody will have forgotten about it, probably. For the next few days, though, everybody's going to be talking about it. If there's going to be any trouble, I suspect it will happen tomorrow or Wednesday."
       "Do you want me and Kyle to go to school with him?" Justin asked.
       "Thanks, Justin, but I don't think that's necessary," Kevin said. "But the rest of you, if you pick up any rumblings about kids wanting to beat him up or anything, let a teacher or Mrs. Ortega know immediately, okay?"
       They all said okay.
       "I hope he don't try to run away," Justin said.
       "That was one of the first things I thought about," Rick said. "I took his keys away from him, and he can't get to the spares. Those of you with vehicles, make sure you don't leave your keys lying around. Keep 'em in your pockets."
       "What about changing the code on the security system, so you'll hear him if he tries to sneak out at night?" I said.
       "That's a damn good idea, Kyle. They have to come out from the company to do it, though. I'll call first thing in the morning about that," Rick said.
       "Let's call 'em right now. Ain't it a twenty-four hour business?" I asked. "I'll call 'em."
       There's a little sticker on the keypad that has the company's phone number on it. I walked out to the front door and dialed the number. I got a recording saying their business hours were from 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM, Monday through Friday. They didn't even offer to take a message.
       "Any luck?" Tim asked, when I went back to the den.
       "Just a recording saying they're closed. I couldn't even leave a message," I said.
       "I think the twenty-four hour thing is just for responding to emergencies, like if somebody breaks in. Anyway, all they do is call the police, if that happens. They don't come out to investigate," Kevin said.
       "Guys, I'm about whipped," Rick said. "I think I'm going to go fill up that tub in there and soak awhile."
       "Okay, Bubba," several said, and we all drifted off to do our own things.
       * * *
       I woke up real early the next day. Tim was on top of me. He had his knee in my groin, and he must have jerked in his sleep or something. It hurt.
       "Babe, move over," I said.
       "Wha . . . ?"
       "Move over a little bit. You're hurting me," I said.
       "Sorry," he mumbled without even really waking up.
       I lay there for a few minutes, and I could not get back to sleep for love or money. I checked my watch, and it was 5:30. I decided to get up. I went ahead and took a shower and shaved. I closed the bathroom door all the way so I wouldn't disturb Tim, and the bathroom was a steam chamber when I was finished. I hated that.
       I got dressed for the day and went downstairs. I said good morning to the puppies and took the back off the dog door so they could get outside. The fact that they were still there meant Rick hadn't gone for a run. That thing with Sean must have worn him out.
       I went out the front door to get the paper. Sean's car was gone. Oh, shit! I thought.
       I hurried back inside. My first thought was to wake Kevin and Rick up right away to let them know. Then I thought, What if his car was stolen or something? I decided to make sure he was gone before I woke anybody up. I went up to the third floor as quiet as I could. He was still in one of those two big rooms that share the bathroom. I opened the door of what I thought was his room, and it was empty. In fact, the bed was still made. Must be the wrong room.
       Then I thought, How can this be the wrong room? I was just in here yesterday to get the computer. Maybe he uses both rooms. Sleeps in one and studies in the other.
       I went through the bathroom to get to the other room. The toilet was running, so I shook the handle to get it to stop. I opened the door into the other room, and that one was empty, too. Before I got too alarmed, though, I wanted to check every one of them. I opened the next door across the hall, and there was ole Todd, bare-ass naked, uncovered, with a hard-on that looked like a battering ram. That was the first time I had seen the goods, and I was impressed. Still not as big as Brian, though. He is a damn cute boy, I thought, and he's going to make some guy a fine man, some day.
       Finally, the last room. I looked in, and it was empty, too. Yep, Sean had run away. Somehow, he must have snuck into Kevin and Rick's room and gotten his keys. Unless he has a third key that nobody knows anything about.
       Then it dawned on me. "You dumb fuck, Goodson," I whispered. Of course he has a third key. You've got three to your car, too. The valet key. Shit! I had even suggested to Sean that he keep it in his wallet in case he ever loses his other key or locks it in the car. Shit!
       It was almost six o'clock. I decided to go ahead and wake 'em up. I knocked on their bedroom door.
       "Who is it?" Rick asked.
       "It's me. Kyle. Sean ran away last night," I said.
       "What?"
       "He ran away. His car is gone, and he's not here," I said.
       Rick opened the door. "Come in," he said.
       "How did he manage that?" Kevin asked.
       "Kev, Rick took away one key. He had two. I didn't think of that until this morning when I realized he's gone. He has a valet key, like for valet parking. He keeps it in his wallet, just like I keep mine in my wallet. I suggested he do that in case he ever lost his keys or locked them in the car. Evidently, he took the suggestion," I said.
       "God. What do we do now?" Rick asked.
       "It's a police matter, Babe. He's supposed to go to jail tomorrow. This is more than a simple runaway," Kevin said.
       "Do you want me to call the cops?" I asked.
       "Wait until everybody's up and dressed before we call them," Kevin said. "And one of us will do it. We may need to get Jimmy over here, too."
       "Why don't you go start on breakfast?" Rick said to me. "Kevin and I need to get ready. Did you let the dogs out?"
       "Yeah, I let them out. I'll get on breakfast," I said.
       Since I had more time than usual, I decided to make French toast, from scratch. That doesn't take all that long, but it adds about fifteen minutes onto cooking time. I had sausage set up on cookie sheets from the night before, so I fired up both ovens and put the sausage in. Then I made up the eggs, milk and sugar mixture for the French toast. I turned the griddle on. That is a restaurant stove, so it has a big griddle between the two sets of burners. It's great for cooking breakfast.
       Tim was the first one down. He kissed me good morning.
       "You must have gotten up early," he said.
       "I got up at 5:30. Somebody was crushing my nuts with his knee," I said, smiling.
       "Who could that have been?" Tim asked, playing with me.
       "I don't know, but whoever it was is going to have to kiss 'em tonight to make 'em better, that's for sure," I said.
       "I'll do it right now. Pull your pants down," he said.
       I laughed a little. He was so cute.
       "Naw, that's all right. Tonight, though, for sure," I said.
       "What's tonight?" Justin asked as he came into the kitchen.
       "None of your business, that's what," I said.
       "Oh. It must be something about S-E-X," he said, spelling out the word.
       "I discovered this morning when I got up that Sean ran away last night," I said. I was going to wait until everybody was in there to tell 'em, but I didn't.
       "What? Are you sure?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah. His car is gone. His stuff is gone. He's gone. Everything," I said. "The cops are going to have to do a manhunt. He's supposed to go to jail tomorrow, remember?"
       "Shit. That's pretty damn serious, ain't it?" Justin said.
       "Hell, yeah, it's serious," I said. "I don't know what they're going to do, if they even find him."
       "Maybe this will get his parents' attention," Tim said. "Has anybody called them?"
       "Not yet. It's too early," I said. "The first step is going to be to call the cops. And maybe Jimmy from next door."
       "Why him?" Justin asked.
       "He's the lawyer," I said. "I'm just repeating what Kevin said."
       "Oh, so they know he's gone?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah. I woke 'em up. Rick let me in. They were both still naked, and Kevin was still in bed," I said.
       "Did they have woodies?" Justin asked.
       "You know, I didn't even notice. Ole what's-his-name, ole Todd, he had him a monster one. That boy's hung. That was the first time I saw his dick," I said.
       "What'd you do? A woody check?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah, but I skipped you 'cause I didn't have my magnifying glass," I said.
       "That one was not bad, Goodson," Justin said.
       "Thank you. Would somebody set the table in the dining room? They're going to be stumbling in here in a few minutes," I said.
       "Sure. How many places?" Tim asked.
       "Nine. Sean ain't here to eat," I said.
       "I was thinking about Jimmy. If he comes over, won't he want to eat?" Tim said.
       "Yeah. Good point. Set an extra," I said.
       * * *
       After everybody was seated and we said the blessing, Kevin told everybody about Sean. He explained about the valet key.
       "What's going to happen?" Denny asked.
       "I don't know. I'm sure the police have to try to find him. Does anybody have any ideas about where he might have run to?" Kevin asked.
       "Maybe back to Virginia. Isn't that where he's from?" Brian asked.
       "Yeah, but that's where he didn't want to be in the first place," Justin said.
       "He'll be using his credit card. Can't they find people through that?" Tim asked.
       "They do it on TV all the time," Justin said. "The thing is, with something like this, you've got to wonder how much effort the cops are going to put into it, you know? I mean, it ain't like he's a murderer or something. All he did was give a boy a blowjob. I know that's bad and all, but it ain't murder."
       "That's a good point. Tracking somebody down who doesn't want to get caught is expensive. We may never see him again," Rick said.
       That damn sure made everybody think.
       "If they do find him, are y'all going to take him back?" I asked.
       Kevin and Rick looked at each other.
       "We haven't talked about that yet, Kyle," Kevin said.
       I figured that meant "no!"
       "I don't have class until eleven today, so I'm available if y'all need anything this morning," I said.
       "Same here," Justin said.
       The high school boys finished and left. It was just Kevin, Rick, Justin and me still at the table.
       "Kevin. Rick. I know this is a major pain in the ass for y'all, and it's definitely something you don't deserve. But please don't let this punk-ass prick make y'all stop doing what you're doing. It's too good for you to stop," Justin said.
       Damn! I hadn't even thought about that. This is the kind of thing that could set them off their feed, when it comes to foster care. Or the state might even take the kids away. Now wouldn't that be something, if they did? She-it!

Chapter 11

(Kevin's Perspective)
       I called the office and told my secretary that Rick and I would probably be in later but that we had family business to attend to that morning. I asked her to let Rick's secretary know, too.
       "Who do we call first?" I asked Rick. He and I were still at the dining room table.
       "Why don't you call Jimmy and see what he thinks?" Rick said.
       I dialed the number and one of the kids answered. Wade, I think it was. I thought, Son, you're going to be late for school, if you're going. Then I remembered the "senior privilege" of not taking a first-period class second semester of the senior year. Our little workaholic Tim wouldn't even consider exercising the privilege, and Kyle had been too wrapped up in Student Government to do that.
       "Jimmy, it's Kevin. Sean ran away last night," I said.
       "You guys were afraid he'd do that, weren't you? I noticed Rick took his car keys yesterday," he said.
       "Yeah. We thought we had the bases covered. We even called the security company about sending somebody out to change the code on our house so we'd be alerted if he tried to sneak out last night. Unfortunately, they were closed. Rick was going to call them this morning," I said.
       "Have you called the police?" he asked.
       "No. That's what I wanted to ask you," I said.
       "Yeah, and you need to call his social worker at DCF to let them know, too," he said.
       "We didn't get him through DCF. This is the one that just showed up after reading Jeff's diary about us on the Internet," I said.
       "Well, you don't have to worry about them, then," he said. "You probably need to call his parents right away."
       "Yeah. That was already on the 'to do' list for today, even if he hadn't run away. I'm really not looking forward to that one. They refuse to accept the fact that the kid is gay," I said.
       "I can see why you're dreading that," he said. "I'm trying to think if there's anybody else. The Sheriff's people will let DJJ know what happened, so you don't have to worry there. That's about it, Kevin. I can't think of anybody else. Sheriff and parents ought to do it.
       "Okay, and thanks, Jimmy. This is the part where I say, 'I'll talk to you later,' but, really, I hope I won't have to," I said.
       He chuckled.
       "But you know to call any time," he said.
       "Yeah. Thanks, Bubba. Bye," I said.
       Rick was sitting next to me, and he had heard my side of the conversation, at least.
       "I forgot about calling his parents, until I heard you say something to Jimmy about it. We'll do that call together on the speaker," he said.
       I called the Sheriff's Department and spoke with an officer who specializes in juvenile issues.
       "I'd like to come out to your house to talk to you," she said.
       "That's fine. Are you coming this morning, or . . . "
       "Yes, I'm on my way," she said.
       "Okay. We'll both be here," I said.
       "Either you or your wife can go in to work. I just need to talk to one of you," she said.
       "Male partner, not wife," I said.
       "I beg your pardon," she said.
       "The other half of my partnership is a man. I don't have a wife," I said.
       "Oh. Well. Whoever," she said.
       "We'll both be here," I said.
       "She's on her way," I said to Rick.
       The officer got there in about thirty minutes. She was young, probably not more than thirty, attractive, and very bright. She wanted us to call her "Patricia," and we, of course, told her our first names. After the introductions, we filled her in on our family in general and on Sean in particular. We included, of course, the incident at school the day before.
       "Kevin and Rick, I'll be straight with you." Then she paused. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything by that."
       "No, that's okay. You can be straight all you want, as long as we can be gay," Rick said.
       She chuckled. "Thank goodness you have a sense of humor. I do things like that all the time, like one time I told a man I'd give my right arm for something, and, of course, he was an amputee. You guessed it. No right arm."
       We laughed politely.
       "Anyway, on the issue of Sean, I've got to be upfront and tell you I don't think there's much chance of our finding him. This kid is smart, and he's resourceful, too. Does he have any money, do you know?"
       "He has a couple of credit cards," Rick said. "We don't supervise those, however. His parents pay those bills. So, yeah, he has money. Plus, he probably has cash on him, too. How much, I don't know."
       "Kevin, earlier you said they charged him as an adult, yet he was sentenced to juvenile detention and not adult jail. I'm afraid that doesn't really compute. Who told you he was being treated as an adult?" she asked.
       "I asked our lawyer why the proceedings yesterday were so public, and he said it was because he was being dealt with as an adult. Isn't that what Jimmy said, Rick?"
       Rick said that was correct.
       "He even said that might be the basis of an appeal," I said.
       "Well, your lawyer was right about it being too public to be juvenile. Who was the judge? Do you know?" she asked.
       "Judge Elliot? I think that's who it was," Rick said.
       "Yes, it was Judge Elliot," I confirmed.
       "I see. Judge Elliot is a wonderful man in a great many ways, but sometimes he plays by his rules, not the rules of the State of Florida, if you get my point. Anyway, if Sean were an adult felon, he'd be in jail right now. He wouldn't have come home, and he wouldn't have been able to escape. That's relevant because, quite frankly, tracking down a smart juvenile with a car and access to money is very costly and time consuming. If he had committed murder, say, or even armed robbery, as a juvenile, then, yeah, we'd really go after him. But oral sex in a men's room? Pretty iffy, I'd say," she said.
       "Then why did they arrest him?" Rick asked.
       "Well, it is against the law, and presumably the other kid is a minor. Of course, he's a minor, too. But it was at a school," she said. "How did they catch him? Did somebody complain?"
       "They saw it on the surveillance cameras," I said.
       "Oh, sweet Jesus! Excuse my language. You mean to tell me they're using surveillance cameras in the restrooms at school to catch kids? In my humble opinion, the judge should never have heard this case. Guys, it is so frustrating sometimes," she said.
       "I was wondering about that myself," I said. "Patricia, we have, or had, eight gay kids living here. Now it's seven, of course. And Sean was out of control. He was beaten pretty severely in October on a family trip to St. Augustine, and it was over the same thing. His former boyfriend broke up with him Saturday because he discovered Sean performing oral sex in the men's room at the mall. He 'borrowed' another boy's car, before he even had his license, to sneak out at night. He's snuck out other times, too. We had him in to see a psychiatrist, and she put him on medication for depression. We saw some improvement after that, but apparently he's back to his old tricks."
       "Is he still taking the medicine?" she asked.
       "No. After he improved, she took him off the medicine. I guess he needs to go back on it," I said.
       "It sounds like it," she said. "If we do find him, are you willing to take him back?"
       "One of the kids asked us that at breakfast this morning, and I told him Rick and I haven't discussed it. I'm personally leaning toward 'no' right now," I said.
       "I'm more than just leaning in that direction," Rick said.
       "I'm afraid I'm more than leaning that way, too," I said.
       "So, really, if we do apprehend him, it's going to be a stickier wicket than it might otherwise have been. Not that I blame you in the least. You've got too much at stake here with the other kids," she said.
       "That's my thinking, too," Rick said. "Things were so good here before Sean came on the scene. I don't know if we can go back to that, but that's what I'm shooting for."
       "Well, what you guys are doing is totally remarkable, as far as I'm concerned. You have a right to peace in your life, if not privacy. How did he get along with the other kids?" she asked.
       "He never seemed to find his place, so to speak. The kids in this house are very close to one another, and four of the older boys will probably end up as life partners. They look out for one another, help one another with school work, play together. We speak of them as being brothers, and that's the spirit we try to inculcate. Sean never was anybody's brother or best friend," I said.
       "You said Sean had a boyfriend. What's he like?" she asked.
       "His name is Scott, and he's a very nice kid. I think Sean took him for granted, pretty much. Used him for sex and to relieve boredom. Scott finally had enough of it, though," Rick said.
       "I'm curious to see what Sean looks like. Do you happen to have a picture of him?" she asked.
       Rick and I both smiled, and he excused himself.
       "We have a family Web site that's loaded with pictures of all the kids. One of the boys is quite a good photographer. In fact, this is his book," I said, picking up a copy of Kyle's book that was on the coffee table. We were in the living room.
       "He has a book out? My word," she said.
       "Sean's not in it because it was published before Sean got here, but yes. This is the quality of kid we're dealing with around here. Kyle, the one who did this book, was president of student government at Beachside High School his senior year, and this year, Tim, Kyle's boyfriend, is valedictorian. Tim, and another boy, Brian, just received full Dean's Honor Scholarships to Tulane University. They're each valued at $120,000," I said. "Kyle, Tim, and Brian are all Eagle Scouts."
       She made a soft whistle sound.
       While Patricia and I were talking in the living room, Rick was in the study printing a couple of pictures of Sean from the Web site.
       "This is what he looks like," Rick said, handing her the pictures.
       "Oh, my. He's adorable," she said.
       "On the outside, maybe," Rick said.
       "Well, yeah," she said. "May I have these?"
       "Sure," Rick said.
       "Kevin and Rick, I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, but I'm certainly happy we met," she said. "I'll stay in touch and keep you posted on everything I find out, but, as I said, I'm not terribly optimistic about Sean."
       "Thanks, Patricia. I think we feel the same way about you. Here's my card. It's got all of my numbers on it. My digits, as the kids say," I said.
       Rick gave her one of his, too.
       She looked at the cards and then at us.
       "Goodson Enterprises. Mary Ann Pennington is my aunt," she said. "Now I know who both of you are. I didn't know you had the kids, though."
       "The one who did this book is Kyle Goodson, very much of 'those' Goodsons," I said. "Like the heir apparent, even."
       "This is incredible. I thought I'd have to get far away from Emerald Beach to have my preconceptions shattered the way you guys have shattered them today. Thank you," she said.
       "Well, thank you," Rick said.
       That ended the interview, and Patricia was on her way.
       "Nice lady, isn't she? I can't wait to tell Mary Ann," I said.
       "She's very nice. I wonder if she has a brother," Rick said.
       We both laughed.
       * * *
       I had a feeling that was going to be the easy part. I didn't relish the idea of calling the Kellys and breaking the news to them.
       "Well, shall we get it over with?" Rick asked.
       "Yeah. We might as well. We'll probably have to leave a message and hope they get back to us," I said.
       I dialed the home number, and a man answered it on the second ring.
       "Hello," he said.
       "Hello? Dean Kelly?" I asked.
       "Yes," he said.
       "This is Kevin Foley," I said.
       "Who?" he said, as though he had no recognition of my name.
       "Kevin Foley. In Emerald Beach, Florida. I'm one of Sean's foster fathers," I said.
       "Oh, I see," he said. "Well, what can I do for you?"
       "Sir, if you don't mind, I'm going to put this call on speakerphone so my partner, Rick Mashburn, can participate," I said.
       He didn't respond, so I did it.
       "Hello, Dean Kelly. This is Rick Mashburn."
       "How do you do," Kelly said.
       "Fine, sir, and yourself?"
       "Fine, thanks. Is there some point to this call, gentlemen? I'm rather busy," Kelly said.
       "Yes, sir, there is. Your son ran away last night," Rick said. I knew he didn't like Dean Kelly's attitude, and I could tell he was trying very hard to keep his voice pleasant.
       "Oh, my. Where did he go?" Kelly asked.
       "We don't know. He ran away," I said. "That's what being a runaway is."
       "Don't take that attitude with me, young man. Weren't you supervising him?"
       "Of course we were. Did you know where he was when he ran away from your house?" I said.
       "We didn't even know he was gone until he called from there," he said.
       "Dean Kelly, sir, I'm afraid you're the one with the attitude. You didn't know your fifteen-year-old son was gone from your house for two days until he called from here to say he had run away, and you're trying to make us look like we weren't exercising proper supervision? Sir, you're fucked up," Rick said.
       "If you're going to use that kind of language, I can't continue this conversation," Kelly said.
       "Well, hang up if you have to. Just know, though, that Sean is scheduled for jail starting tomorrow afternoon at five o'clock," Rick said.
       There was dead silence, but we knew he hadn't hung up.
       "Jail?" Kelly said.
       "Yes, sir. Jail. Juvenile detention. Eight months of community service, and three years of probation. As of yesterday afternoon. For something he did at school yesterday during lunch," Rick said. "And no, Kevin and I were not at school every minute to supervise a sixteen-year-old boy. We were at work, earning the money to support him, since his parents contributed absolutely nothing to his support in this house. You're killing this kid, Mr. Kelly. He didn't have a family besides us, and now he doesn't have us anymore, either."
       I was so proud of my guy, I was to the point of bursting.
       "What did he do to get arrested?" Kelly asked. His tone was a lot different than it had been.
       "He had oral sex with three boys in a school restroom during lunch. And he was the suck-er, not the suck-ee," Rick said.
       "But he's not gay. He wouldn't do such a thing," Kelly said.
       "Look, Mr. Kelly . . . "
       "Dean Kelly."
       "All right. Dean Kelly. The school has it on videotape, okay? I mean, that's probably a gross violation of Sean's rights, but they have it, and one of our sons saw it," Rick said.
       "What kind of pervert would watch something like that?" Kelly asked.
       "GOD! Kevin, I can't talk to this asshole anymore. You take over," Rick said.
       "This is Kevin Foley, again," I said.
       "Mr. Foley, your father's reputation is quite sterling in academic medicine," Kelly said.
       "Look, Mr. Kelly. Dr. Kelly. Dean Kelly. Whatever the hell you are. This isn't about my father. It's about your son, and it's about the kind of pervert who would cut a college class to bail out your son. The same boy who served as president of the Student Government Association at his high school, elected by a landslide, even though he is gay and was fully out at the time. The same boy who published a book of photographs when he was eighteen. The same boy who is represented by a gallery in Soho in New York City. The same boy who has a picture hanging in a museum in Phoenix, fucking, Arizona. Oh, and did I mention he watched the video with the principal of the school in her office?" I was losing it fast. "That's the kind of pervert we're talking about. The same boy who has been with his partner for over three years. No wonder Sean hates you," I said.
       There was a very long pause.
       "What are you going to do about getting the boy back?" Kelly asked.
       Rick was calmer by then.
       "You take it, Babe," I said.
       "We called the police, and we're calling you. Our relationship with you, your son, and your entire family is finished with this phone call. We're tearing up the power of attorney you gave us. Your son is officially a fugitive from justice, and we want no part of him from here on out. I think we tried our best with Sean, but it's over now," Rick said. "We've got seven other kids to think of, and Sean has kept this family stirred up."
       Long pause.
       "You said Sean hates me. How can he possibly hate me? I'm his father," Kelly said.
       "I didn't say that. Kevin did, but I agree with Kevin completely. Sean never once, in my presence, referred to you and his mother as anything but 'my fucking parents.' Often, he would add, 'and I hate them.' That pretty much convinces me of how he feels about you. Look, we've told you the basics. We've told you what we needed to tell you. If the police find Sean, we'll let you know. If you get to a point where you really want to deal with the issues about your son, give us a call. You have our numbers, or your wife does, anyway. Until then, though, this is goodbye."
       Rick hung up.
       We both sat very still for a long time. I knew Rick was thinking about what had just happened, as much as I was. I couldn't believe that guy. What an arrogant prick.
       "I feel like I just took a beating," Rick said. "Like we both did."
       "I know. He is a piece of work, isn't he?" I said.
       "He's a piece of work, and I feel like the POW," Rick said.
       I thought about that for a second, and then I laughed. The initials.
       "It's after eleven. Are you going in today?" Rick asked.
       "Nope," I said. "I'm going to go change into jeans and a sweatshirt, and I'm skipping today. What about you?"
       "I'm doing the same thing. I've already worked a lot harder than I usually do. Let's go eat with the kids at the Starfish," Rick said.
       "Great idea," I said. "And you know what? I'm tired of being a grown-up. I'm wearing a baseball cap."
       Rick laughed his deep, personal laugh that he reserves for me, for the first time in a couple of days. I love that man so much.
       "Me, too. Let's be kids," he said.

(Sean's Perspective)
       There was no way I was going to be cornered, boxed in, in some detention center for a week. My ass would have been raw by the time I got out of there, and, believe it or not, I was saving that for the man I loved.
       When I had gotten my car in November, Kyle had suggested I keep that key that didn't have the fancy plastic top in my wallet because I might need it one day. Well, I was going to need it that night. Rick made me give him my regular key, the one with the remote door unlocker on it, and I did because I didn't have any choice in the matter. They already had my second key, also with a remote. But I still had the third one, only they forgot I did.
       Rick sent me to my room. That was okay, though, because I think he was about to pop me. He is a lot bigger than I am, and I pretty much figured he could have wasted my ass, if he had wanted to. I was in a very sour mood that night, and I started packing my stuff as soon as I got to my room. They must have told the others to stay away from me because none of them came to talk to me, even. I wasn't on the best of terms with the rest of them, anyway, and I was sure they were all against me now. All the more reason to leave.
       I had everything packed by ten o'clock. I set my watch alarm for midnight, and I took a two-hour nap on top of the bedspread. At midnight, I woke up, and I snuck out of that place forever. I felt sort of bad about leaving because I had wanted to be there so bad at first. At times, it was the best place in the world. At other times, I felt confined, captured by their whole fucking attitude of gay dignity, gay pride, gay normality, gay bullshit.
       I finally got on I-10, heading west. I never looked back.

(Rick's Perspective)
       Two days later, after our talk with Dean Kelly, Dr. Kelly, Sean's mother, called. You might know, I was home by myself without Kevin. I was working at home that day, in the study, because I had budget stuff I had to concentrate on. I didn't want the people at the office pestering me with questions, so I had stayed home. Cheryl knew where I was and what I was doing, and, of course, Kevin did, too.
       "Hello," I said, answering the phone. "This better be important." I assumed it was Cheryl or one of the kids.
       "Hello. I think it is. It's about a human life that we must save," a lady said.
       "I don't take calls from telemarketers. Sorry," and I hung up.
       I got back to work, and the damn phone rang again. That time I noticed the caller ID before I picked up. I didn't even recognize the area code, much less the number.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Don't hang up. It's Sean's mother," the lady said.
       "Mrs. Kelly?" I asked.
       "Yes. Is this Rick or Kevin?" she asked.
       "Rick. At least you act like you've heard of us," I said.
       "Yes, well, Sean has emailed me about you two. I routinely delete most of his emails without reading them, but I have read a few. He seems to think very highly of the two of you. My husband told me this morning that Sean seems to be missing. Have you done anything about that yet?"
       "He doesn't 'seem' to be missing, he is missing. He ran away. Do you know about the trouble he's in?" I asked.
       "No. Is Sean in trouble? Didn't you exercise proper supervision of him? How can he be in trouble. He's only sixteen. How could a sixteen-year-old possibly get in trouble?" she asked.
       "I don't know how a sixteen-year-old could possibly get into trouble, ma'am. It's never happened before in the history of the fucking world, but your boy sure did it," I said.
       "Your language is totally inappropriate, young man, and so is your attitude. If you want to talk to me, I insist you apologize and carry on civilly," she said.
       "See. I really don't want to talk to you, and you called me. I didn't call you, remember? Good bye," I said.
       I was so damn frustrated with those people, and with the way they thought about Sean, I was ready to kick butt. I walked out into the den, and Kyle and Justin were there.
       "Justin, give me a cigarette," I said.
       He looked at me like I was out of my mind, and, in some small way, I was.
       "Sure. Have one. Have the whole pack, if you want it," Justin said. "Here. Have a lighter, too. They really don't work that good without fire."
       That made me laugh, and Kyle laughed, too. And then I started to cry.
       "Rick! What's going on here, man? Why are you crying?" Justin asked. His tone of voice was kind and gentle.
       "I just got off the phone with Sean's mother, and she and her husband don't get a damn thing. They absolutely don't get it," I said.
       "Well, tell you the truth, I'm glad he's gone. And I'm glad you and Kevin said he ain't coming back, Rick. He no more fits in with us than the man in the moon," Justin said.
       "Have you and Kevin even had time to notice what an incredible kid that Todd is?" Kyle asked.
       "No, we really haven't, I guess," I said.
       "I think that boy is going to make varsity baseball as a fucking freshman, Rick. I been out there every day this week, and he is awesome. The coaches might want him to play JV this year so he can get some high school experience, but he's a hell of a lot better than most of the seniors, and that ain't no lie, Rick. I swear to God," Kyle said.
       "He's that good, huh?" I said.
       "You know he's a pitcher, right?"
       "No, I didn't know that, Kyle," I said.
       This was the kind of conversation I wanted to have with my sons. I never again wanted to have the kind of conversation I had had with Sean's mother.
       "Oh, yeah. He hums 'em across, Rick. And he's a good fielder, too. They tried him in center, and he pegged out two runners at home. That boy is fucking awesome. He's going to make varsity. If he don't, it'll be for training purposes only. I know that as sure as I know anything," Kyle said.
       "Baseball is Kevin's sport, you know?" I said.
       "I know it is, but you know enough about the game to know what I'm talking about, don't you?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I do. Kyle, why didn't you ever play sports in high school?" I asked. I had wondered that for a long time. Kyle was a natural athlete, in my opinion.
       "I didn't play because I'm not that good at it. I'm an athletic supporter. Sort of like a jock strap. I'm not an athlete," Kyle said.
       "Bull-shit!! Kyle, you're a great athlete. Pool? Darts? Ping-pong? Skiing? SCUBA diving? Swimming? Hunting? Pool volleyball? How many more do I need to name to convince you?" Justin was almost screaming.
       "You forgot surfing and skate boarding," he said. "But those aren't really sports, either."
       "Oh, my God! What do you think are sports? Huh?" Justin said.
       I love it when those two go at it on a topic, although this one was more personal than most. It was also totally stupid and irrelevant. Maybe that's why it was so much fun to watch them.
       "I don't know. Football, basketball, and baseball, for sure. Track, I guess, too," Kyle said. "But I'm kind of shaky on that one. That's the only one I actually did play for Beachside. Cross country for two years. I even lettered in it."
       "You think there are only four sports in the whole damn world? Jesus Christ," Justin said.
       "Maybe soccer, too, but I haven't played that for a long time. I really liked it when I played it, though. I was pretty good at it, too. Why are we arguing about this?"
       "Because this is all y'all have to talk about," I said, "and it's refreshing as hell to me. Here's your cigarette back. I really didn't want it."
       "I didn't think you did," Jus said.
       "Let me tell you something. I've lived and played with you two guys every day for almost three years now. And you're both very fine athletes. Trust me."
       "How would you know?" Justin asked.
       "Because I'm an Ironman, that's how I'd know," I said.
       "Ironman? What good is that? Does that make you an athlete?" Kyle asked.
       "No. But being an athlete let me be an Ironman," I said.
       "Very good, Rick. You know we're just teasing, don't you? You and each other? We know who the athletes are. It's the three of us," Justin said.
       "Don't forget Tyler," Kyle said. "And now Todd."
       "Oh, yeah, them for sure. Not none of the rest of them, though," Justin said.
       "I want you guys to try golf. I've been playing that some, and I really like it," I said.
       "I started playing golf when I was eight years old, Rick. I love the game," Kyle said.
       "Well, let's play," I said.
       "Okay, but you need to go hunting with us before the winter is over," Kyle said.
       "Absolutely, Rick. Great guys, too," Justin said.
       "Okay. Hunting, then golf. Gotcha," I said. "I've got to get back to work. I feel so much better from just talking to you guys. Let's see if I can concentrate."
       I wasn't back at the desk more than ten minutes when the phone rang again. It was Mrs. Kelly again, and I made up my mind to get through a conversation with the lady. Her son was in big trouble, and she had a right to know about it, no matter how rude she was.
       "Hello. This is Rick Mashburn," I said.
       "Rick, this is Barbara Kelly again, and I want to apologize for before. Look. I really do care about Sean, even if I haven't shown that very well. Talk to me, please."
       "Apology accepted, if you'll accept mine," I said.
       "I do. Tell me about Sean," she said.
       "May I call you Barbara?" I asked.
       "Yes, please do. You don't have any idea where he is?"
       "No, I'm afraid we don't. Here's what happened. On Monday of this week, Sean was arrested at school during the lunch period for administering oral sex in the boys' bathroom to three boys. They got the whole thing on videotape, so it's not really in question. He did it," I said.
       "I see," she said. "Is that legal? To tape people in the restroom, I mean?"
       "Probably not, but they did it. And Sean got caught," I said. "Anyway, there was an arraignment Monday afternoon. Kevin and I, and our son Kyle, were there. Sean, on the advice of our attorney, pleaded 'no contest' to the charges. Actually, it was only to one count. They didn't charge him for all three; only for the boy they actually caught him with. Anyway, the judge gave him a week in the juvenile detention center, to start today at 5 PM, eight months of community service, and three years' probation.
       "When we got home, we were talking with Sean and the other boys in the house. He was pretty obnoxious and arrogant. I sent him to his room. I didn't want him close to me because I was pretty angry and didn't want a physical confrontation. Anyway, that was really the last I, personally, saw of Sean."
       "How was he able to run away?" she asked.
       "Well, we confiscated his car keys, and I made him give me his cell phone and computer. I didn't know who he was in contact with, and we wanted to do everything we could to prevent him from running. We even tried to have the access code on our home security system changed that afternoon so he couldn't sneak out, but it was after business hours. We did everything we knew to do to prevent his running, believe me," I said. "The only trouble is, nobody thought about the valet parking key he had to his car. It was in his wallet, not on his key ring. We figure that's what he used to run," I said.
       "Well, it sounds like you did more than I would have thought to do to prevent it. Sean is a very headstrong and determined young man, when he wants to be," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am. He is that," I said.
       "What do we do now? Anything?" she asked.
       "I don't know what to do. We notified the Sheriff's Department, on the advice of our attorney. A lady from there came out to talk to us, but she wasn't very optimistic that they'll be able to locate him. She said that a kid as smart as Sean is, with a car and with money, is almost impossible to find, unless he wants to get caught. Sean has a whole lot more resources than other kids have when they run away," I said.
       "He has credit cards. I could cancel those. That would dry up his money," she said.
       "Yes, it would, but think about the alternatives. He'd still need money. How would he get it otherwise?" I asked.
       "What would be his alternatives?" she asked.
       "Theft. Prostitution. For starters," I said.
       "Oh, my." There was a long pause. "I feel so helpless. So hopeless, too."
       "I know you do. Kevin and I feel exactly the same way," I said.
       "Rick, I feel like such a failure. All my life, all I've ever known is success. First as a student; then as a professor. I've worked with thousands of students through the years, and rather successfully, too, I think. I've always thought I understood young people," she said.
       "I'm not sure how well you understand Sean, though," I said.
       "Obviously I don't," she said. "And the fact that he's gay doesn't help."
       "Yeah, but that fact doesn't have to hurt, either. Unless you want it to," I said.
       There was a long pause.
       "You're right. Do you know what an epiphany is?" she asked.
       "A sudden insight?" I asked.
       "Yes. I just had one. I have never seen myself as homophobic, and I've even befriended homosexuals. But deep down I was fearful and resentful of Sean's being gay. And my husband is, too. That's the root of this. It's how all of it started with Sean last summer. He told us he is gay, and we refused to believe him. We assumed it was some kind of phase or something. Some kind of adolescent confusion. We argued there is no genetic history of homosexuality in either family. We were too abstract, too academic, to understand our own son's feelings." She started crying.
       I didn't say anything immediately. I let her cry. What else could I do? Besides, she needed to cry. She needed to feel some of the pain and anguish Sean had felt.<