Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. If you are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man relations, please exit this page.
TALES FROM THE RANCH Copyrightc 2003 by Tulsa Driller 7. All rights reserved.
This is a story of men who have two common interests. You will see that they love the land where they live and work, but it is also the story of young men who love other men and their coming of age in a culture of prejudice and misunderstanding. It is a story, which deals with difficult and often disturbing issues but, nonetheless, issues which must be confronted in today's world.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. This work is copyrightedc by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
PLEASE: In a perfect world AIDS doesn't exist. My characters have unprotected sex. I hope you use proper precautions because I'd like you to be around the read the last chapter of this story.
Tales from the Ranch Chapter 41: A family weekend
No one arose early on Saturday. Joey woke up because Mitsy wanted to go outside. He pulled on his shorts from the previous day, along with his Levis and followed her down to the lawn. The rain had abated, but was drizzling lightly. Mitsy took care of her needs, and then ran past Joey and up the stairs. She was waiting in front of the door as if to say, "What took you so long, slowpoke?"
Joey went to the bathroom, then followed his dog to the kitchen so he could feed her. He pushed the switch for the coffeepot, then crawled back in bed. Mitsy joined him on the foot of the hide-a-bed after she ate.
Craig was aware of the front door opening and closing a couple of times, but Joey had kept the noise to a minimum. He got up to go to the bathroom and after peeing, he brushed his teeth. He crawled back in bed and snuggled against his lover's chest. The warm fur felt good as it tickled his bare back. He was just starting to go to back to sleep when Dale came to and eased himself out of bed to go to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, also.
As Dale crawled back into the bed, Craig rolled to meet him and they exchanged a passionate kiss, which had the predictable results of making both of them hard. Dale worked himself around so they were on their sides, facing each other. He nudged Craig's thighs apart and stuck his hard dick between his legs so Craig's balls were resting on his pubic bush.
"You feel so good," Craig whispered.
"Ummm. so do you," Dale said quietly.
Each would have loved to be able to crawl inside the other's body, but this was almost as good. They could kiss each other and slide their hands and chests against the other. There wasn't any urgency to do anything further. It was just a great, rainy morning to lie there and enjoy being with the other.
Finally, they heard people talking in the living room. Everyone else must be up and around. Reluctantly they got up and went through the shower, skipping the shaving process. They didn't play around, although it would have been a lot of fun, but decided they should put in their appearance since they had company.
"We were just about to call you to see if the rain made you sleep as well as the rest of us," Frank said.
"Boy, did it," Dale replied. "I love storms and the patter of rain on the window sure made me sleep well."
"Us, too," Frank said.
Doris was in the kitchen and with Joey's help they were putting breakfast together. Doris had gotten the ingredients for Eggs Benedict and fresh asparagus spears. Joey was cutting up fruit that was going to be steeped in champagne, the rest of which they would drink themselves.
Craig thought, 'How gay, this was something that a bunch of queens would do.'
"This is a simple shortcut for you fellows," Doris said. "I'm using powdered Hollandaise sauce and all you have to do is add it to milk and melted butter and heat it, while whisking it to avoid lumps."
The rest of the dish would be prepared in the microwave except for toasting the English Muffins. She had individual ramekins that had been buttered, then broke the eggs in them. Careful microwaving would ensure perfect poached eggs.
"Mom, you're going to spoil us," Craig said. "We'll expect this every Saturday from now on," he teased.
"Sorry, you'll have to depend on Joey to do this from now on. My days off start after breakfast in the morning," Doris laughed.
"Well, son, I hope you grammaw done teach y'all right, because y'er on y'er own from nows on," Dale said while laughing.
The others joined in.
"I think this is neat. A lot better than a piece of toast and cereal," Joey said.
"Okay, okay," Doris said. "If we are ready to sit down, it will only take a couple of minutes to finish putting this together and be ready to eat.
"What can I do?" Craig asked.
"Put this bowl of fruit on the table and pour the champagne. The coffee is for later," Doris told him.
Craig debated about pouring champagne for Joey, but decided that a moderate amount wouldn't hurt him. After all, wine was commonly served to all in Europe. They just needed to make sure no one overindulged.
The breakfast was wonderful. It was a simple meal, easy to prepare, but elegant in that it was a rare treat. Everyone dove in, as they were hungry.
"This is great," Dale said, between mouthfuls.
No one disputed that statement.
Joey and Frank cleared the table after they ate, then Craig poured coffee for everyone. It was the wonderful, warm atmosphere of a family gathered around the table, exchanging stories and enjoying a relaxing time.
Eddie wouldn't have run this morning anyway, since it was Saturday and he certainly wouldn't have run in the rain. It was too dangerous with a person driving a car splattering him with water. Also, people driving in bad weather seemed to concentrate on the road immediately ahead of them and not see runners until it was too late.
He and Tom had both been up before 6 o'clock to pee, then had gone back to bed, Tom spooned in front of his lover. Their bedroom was cool so it felt good to snuggle against each other and both went back to sleep.
When Eddie came to about 7:45, he started stroking and petting his lover, who slowly woke up, then turned so they were facing each other. They exchanged kisses, rubbing their chests against each other, kissing the other all over their faces, ears and necks. They were both hard, so pressed against each other's groin.
Finally after about 10 minutes, Tom said, "Will you fuck me? I want you inside me."
Eddie pulled away from Tom and turned him on his back. Then, with no further foreplay, went down on his cock, taking Tom to the balls in one stroke. This produced the first of the "Tom noises" this morning. Eddie loved to hear those.
He worked Tom's cock to where it was producing a flow of precum, which he used to lubricate first one, then two and finally three fingers. Tom was moving around on the bed as the stimulation of his cock and prostate was almost too much. He was making noise, and Eddie loved him for it. It seemed to stimulate him to do even better. He had to be careful of Tom's prostate, as sometimes it didn't take much for him to erupt a geyser of cum. Sometimes Eddie could get him to cum again, but it was rare. He wanted to bring them off together today.
Finally Eddie decided he was ready and folded his pillow in half, sliding it under Tom's buttocks. Using his own precum that he stripped out of his cock, he spread it on his shaft, then added a large amount of saliva to completely lube himself. Carefully, he positioned himself and breached the sphincter with no problem. He could feel more precum being discharged from the tip of his penis and that served to further lube Tom's hole. He was trying to be careful, but Tom was impatient, wrapping his legs around Eddie's hips and pulling him in all the way. Eddie's cock hit his prostate and slid on past. Another "Tom noise". He felt Tom's sphincter grip his cock and thought for a minute that it was all over for him, but he managed to relax and Eddie waited until he was sure Tom was okay.
He started stroking slowly, but that wasn't Tom's plan this morning. There was no communication except their urgent kisses and Tom meeting each thrust with his own. Tom needed this and he didn't want to prolong the act. Eddie would have been content to try to make this last an hour, but although he was the top, Tom was in the driver's seat this morning.
Eddie could feel Tom becoming slicker in his ass channel and wondered if he was still producing precum. Lots of times when his dick got really hard, the flow stopped. They exchanged kisses and were pinching each other's nipples. Shortly, Eddie felt Tom's ass start to spasm and knew the end was near. He wanted to make this good for each of them and knew he wasn't far from his own orgasm.
He started thrusting extra hard into Tom and that's all it took for them. The eruption seemed like about a 6.8 on the Richter scale for each of them. Tom's asshole was pulsing, almost in time with the cum shooting out his cock. This triggered Eddie as it felt like Tom was using his sphincter to milk him. He didn't think they'd had that experience before.
The cum acted as a lubricant on their stomachs and chests and it felt good when they slid around on each other. With mouths locked together and tongues dueling for supremacy, they prolonged the sexual high as long as they could.
They slowly returned to normal, exchanging little kisses, rubbing each other lightly, looking at each other, enjoying being together.
"You were fantastic," Tom said. "You really made me feel good."
"You were the one who was fantastic. You really did a job on my cock, different than anytime before. We'll have to get that patented," Eddie teased.
"I just love to have your big, hard pole in me. It makes me feel complete," Tom told him.
"Me too, it's as if we were one person when we're joined like that."
Unfortunately, Eddie's dick was becoming soft and neither had any control, it slipped out of Tom.
"Do you think you could do it again?" Tom giggled.
"Give me an hour to recharge and I'll be willing to try," Eddie told him.
"The bed is a total mess. I even managed to shoot some cum up on my pillow beside my face," Tom said.
"Sheets are made for washing," Eddie said, rolling over and pulling Tom toward him so they could get out of bed.
"I love you," Tom said. "You are terrific."
"You're not too bad yourself, for a history teacher," Eddie said with a smirk.
"Yeah, but you're the 'coach stud'," Tom told him.
By this time they were in their bathroom, ready to clean up and start the day.
Things were starting to return to a more normal state at the Jenkins' house. They had appointments for three counseling sessions the next Tuesday evening. Bret Senior was to see a counselor for anger management and to help him understand his homophobic obsession.
Bret Junior was to see a different counselor to help him better understand about what Rev. Jimmy Bob Jones had done to him.
The family, individually and all together were to talk about Bret Senior's hostility and how Jimmy Bob had disrupted their family life.
It would be a formidable task for all of them to sort out their feelings, try to throw the old away and accept the new ones that, hopefully, would be better for all of them.
After Tom and Eddie had breakfast, Eddie called Bret Jenkins, Senior to find out how he and his family was getting along and if anyone was having any problems they could help with.
Beth answered the phone and visited with Eddie for a short time. Bret was at the kitchen counter, drinking his last cup of coffee and looking at the morning paper, so he had figured out who was calling.
Beth handed her husband the telephone.
"Hello," he said guardedly.
"Bret, this is Eddie Thompson. Tom and I were wondering how things were going at your house and if you needed to talk to us about anything?"
"Well, I got a new cast for my arm on Thursday and it really feels good not to have that elastic bandage around my arm like with the old cast."
"How long are you going to have to wear it?" Eddie questioned.
"Probably about six weeks, but the doctor said that it's showing signs of knitting, so maybe I'll get lucky and be able to shed it before they think."
"I hope so. I've never had a broken bone, but plenty of bruises and problems from running and they were painful until they healed."
"I should have called you and thanked you for watching out for my son the other night. What I did was totally irrational, but I was really mad by the time you brought him home. I was mad at Jimmy Bob for getting me into that situation and I was mad at myself for being there, and I was really mad at Bret Junior for going behind my back and trying to warn you of what we were doing."
"Don't worry about it. You have some things to learn."
"In a way, I'm glad you called. Our family starts our various counseling sessions next Tuesday night."
"That's a good move for all of you. Maybe you can put all of this behind you and get on with your lives. I just wanted to tell you that Tom and I are going to be certified to work with teens that are having problems with their sexuality and also with parents who aren't able to accept the possibility their child might be gay. It looks like we are going to be working with the Family Services Department in Austin and we may have boys living with us from time to time as they are placed under our care."
"You mean that they would place young boys in your home. even though you are queer.? Excuse me; I guess that's the wrong word.
Eddie laughed. "We all know what it means, but thank you for trying to be 'politically correct' and using a better term. We prefer 'Gay'."
"Do you think that what Jimmy Bob did to Bret Junior has made him gay - excuse me, is that the right term?"
"Yes, that's right. I don't know because we didn't talk to him that much about his experience, but I honestly think he was more concerned that he was going to hell if he told anyone about this than anything else. Now he realizes that somebody like Jimmy Bob can't just send a person to hell. It doesn't happen. Listen to what his counselor has to say. If we can help by talking to him, we'll be glad to do so."
"So, you fellows are being honest when you say that you have no sexual interest in him or other boys his age?"
"Bret, I haven't been interested in 16-year old boys since I was sixteen, myself. Sure, some men are attracted to young boys and young boys are attracted to older men. It's no different than a man being attracted to a woman who has blond hair, or black hair or red hair. We can't help that attraction. But, I'll tell you this; it makes it darn hard on people like Tom and I, who are a gay male couple, when we catch the flak for things that people like Jimmy Bob do."
"Well, it's too bad this had to unfold the way it did, but he will get his just reward and we're hopeful that our congregation will gather itself up and pull together. This might actually turn out to be the best thing for everyone concerned except Jimmy Bob," Bret said.
"You can only hope so. If not, you and your family are welcome to worship with us at St. James. It's a lot different than what you are used to, but it's a beautiful, uplifting service. Come try us out," Eddie said.
"We might just do that. Bret Junior went there one Sunday, as you know, and he's still raving about the beauty of what he saw and heard," Bret told him.
"We'd be glad to have you visit. Meanwhile, if there's anything Tom or I can do to help you or your family, please feel free to call on us," Eddie said.
"Thanks. I can't believe that you called to see how we are getting along, but I really appreciate your concern. I think that after Beth and I were at your house the other evening, we now have a better understanding of some things."
"You are most welcome. Take care," Eddie said.
Bret told him goodbye and hung up the telephone.
"I sure didn't expect to hear from him," Bret told his wife.
"They seem like nice people. I only heard your side of the conversation, but it sounded to me like they are willing to forgive you for what you did the other night," Beth said.
"Yes, that's how I read it, too. They are going to be certified to be counselors and actually provide a home for troubled boys."
"Our son seems to think they are good people. He was impressed that they had a nice home and were willing to put themselves on the line for him, when they didn't really know him or us," Beth said.
"I just don't understand Jimmy Bob. The guy twisted things around to suit himself and anybody he thought was a treat immediately became his enemy. He never thought it through to see if they might be right, or at least try to understand where they were coming from," Bret said.
"I really have my doubts that I want to be treasurer for that congregation anymore. All I was doing before was rubber- stamping what Jimmy Bob was doing. Nobody dared challenge him about anything. And then there is the deal with the cash. That's just outrageous that happened. Why was I so dumb as to not see what was going on?"
"Because you were trying to please him and support him. You were too close to him to think that he might be wrong. The thing that bothers me about this whole mess is that he was so quick to condemn everyone else for being sinful and he was the biggest sinner of all and hurt so many other people while doing it. It's bad enough that he hurt Bret Junior and all the other young boys, but then he went after people who weren't even bothering him or weren't a threat to him," Beth told her husband.
"Maybe that was his way of keeping them at arms length, so they didn't expose him for what he was," Bret said.
About that time Paul, Terry and Sally came into the kitchen, ready for something to eat.
"I guess we can finish talking about this later," Bret said.
"Dad," Paul said. "Are we going to church tomorrow?"
"Yes, why shouldn't we?"
"Isn't Rev. Jimmy Bob still in jail?"
"Yes," Bret answered.
"Then who is going to preach?" Paul questioned.
"Good question. I think we will just have some music, some testimonials and some prayers. We don't have to have preaching to have church, you know. There is supposed to be a covered dish dinner after the service."
"Well, I'm glad he's gone. He always made me feel creepy, and especially now since Bret finally told me what he had to do when he was with the Reverend."
"Okay, too much information," Bret told him. "I don't think you boys should talk about that," he said.
"Dad, isn't this part of the problem, that he didn't think he could talk to anybody about what happened?" Paul asked.
"Yes, you are right about that."
"Would you have believed Bret if he'd told you about that when it was happening?" Paul questioned his father.
"I don't know. Probably not."
"Why?" he questioned. "I knew about this happening a long time ago, but didn't know it had happened to Bret. I tried to find out, but he wouldn't talk about it. I avoided being with Rev. Jimmy Bob unless there were other people around and I was concerned about Terry because he's just now the age that the other boys."
"Do you know any of the other boys that he. molested?" Bret choked out.
"Sure there were four that I know about, six now that I know about my brother and Sammy Murdock."
"And you kept this a secret?" his father asked. He was having a hard time believing this.
"Well, who would have believed me? Fred Moxley tried to talk to his parents. I don't know if they believed him or not, but they did start going to another church," Paul said.
"I always wondered why they stopped attending Victory Temple. They wouldn't give me a real reason when I went to see them about paying the rest of their pledge."
"Who were the others?" Bret asked Paul.
"Doug Edlin, they moved away from Williamsport. Then there was Dennis Vroden and Ryan Dearborn," he said.
"All of those people quit attending Victory Temple and wouldn't tell anybody why," Bret said. "Paul, I want to talk to you and Bret later this morning. Some things are just starting to become a little clearer to me. So, you tell him that for the good of all of us, he needs to tell what he knows about all this, okay?" Bret asked.
"Sure, Dad. I think he feels a whole lot better about this now because those guys he went to stay with last Sunday night told him it wasn't his fault about what happened. They tried to make him understand that he was too young to be exposed to the things that happened, but that he didn't have a choice - like he was a prisoner in Rev. Jimmy Bob's office. They also told him that Jimmy Bob didn't have the power to send anybody to hell."
Bret was sitting there with tears in his eyes. Why was his thirteen-year-old son able to reason things out better than he could?
"I still want to talk to both of you - together - so I can find out as much about this mess as I can. Then we'll make a decision about what our family is going to do about this. Okay?" he asked Paul.
"Sure Dad. I think we can help," Paul answered.
Doris decided that since the family didn't have any definite plans for the day, she was going to be the Major Domo of the Kitchen and her troops had some things to learn. She decided that the first lesson was going to turn their kitchen into a bakery. Craig had a KitchenAid stand mixer she and Frank had given him the previous Christmas and this would make the job easier. They would learn to handle dough so they would make two loaves of whole-grain bread and a batch of cinnamon rolls.
The next things would be meatloaf, then a rolled and stuffed pork loin roast. The meatloaf was for lunch and the pork roast was for their evening meal.
Although they wouldn't make them today, she brought her recipe for baked meatballs and Marina Sauce that could be served with spaghetti or other pasta. She was especially proud of the meatballs as she had worked that recipe out by herself and they were light and tender as opposed to the hard ones you got as a result of frying them.
Her boys could learn how to bake a pie as well as she could. Her "secret" piecrust recipe was flour and lard. Others could turn up their noses if they wanted, but it made for the best flaky crust and that fat wasn't any worse than Crisco or vegetable oil and certainly was easier to work the dough when rolling it out and preparing the pies.
The other lesson was for potato soup to go with the meatloaf.
Her three students knew they were in for a treat when Doris announced the "du jour" lesson for Saturday.
Dale and Craig thought Doris should have been teaching the classes at Wyler's. By the time they were ready for lunch, they had learned more and had a better feel for the kitchen than the three sessions with Mr. Andrew combined. Or, maybe it was his lessons that made Doris' job easier. Naw.
Father George's usual habit was to spend part of each Saturday in service to the community. This he did in several ways. Speaking to various groups around Williamsport, ministering to the sick, either in the hospital or at their residences whether at home or in care homes. This also included visits to the local shelter for the homeless, the city/county jail and several other places where the needy gathered.
This ministry was sponsored by the local Ministerial Alliance, which in turn was sponsored by the Council of Churches. Several clergy were on call to comfort and counsel those in need. Fr. George's assignment for the day was to visit those in prison. He worked his way through the main cellblock and found none who wanted his spiritual counsel. The deputy in charge of the jail was the one who had taken Rev. Jimmy Bob a Bible and several paperback books. He escorted him to his cell.
Although Fr. George was not a large person, he looked formidable in his black cassock and biretta. The only sign of color (if it could be called that) was his white clerical collar, showing as a tab under this throat and a purple stole that he wore when hearing confessions.
Jimmy Bob looked like he had just seen a ghost. Could this be the same man who he had encountered just a week before at the ill-fated confrontation with the faggots?
Fr. George was very businesslike, ignoring the fact they had previously met.
"I'm Father George Tikker, rector of St. James Episcopal Church. I'm here to visit with you if you have anything you want to discuss. It doesn't have to be of a religious nature. If you want to talk about personal problems, I'll be glad to talk with you and hear your confession, if you want to give it."
You would have thought Fr. George had just slapped Jimmy Bob. How could this pervert, this faggot, this man who had caused all of his problems come to him and offer comfort? He had some nerve coming here after getting him put in jail and probably making him lose his church and congregation.
"Why are you here?" Jimmy Bob wailed. "Haven't you done enough damage to me? What else do you want? Get the hell out of here," he yelled, getting louder with each outburst.
"Reverend Jones, I don't mean to intrude on your thoughts. Sometimes clergymen are known to talk to others about their problems. Many times another person has a different perceptive of the problem and can help solve it. The load is lighter if you share it with someone," Fr. George suggested.
"Don't bother me. You've caused me enough problems and I don't need you heaping a bunch more on me," Jimmy Bob said.
"Very well," Fr. George said. "I'll remember you in my prayers. Just remember that God loves you and hears your prayers. We are lucky that our God is a loving God, full of compassion and forgiveness. He will absolve you of your sins if you make a sincere confession and ask Him for forgiveness."
That gave Rev. Jimmy Bob something to think about. He'd never heard that thought before, or if he had, he had ignored it.
"May I pray for you now?" Fr. George questioned.
"I guess it won't hurt anything," Jimmy Bob sincerely said.
"Then let us kneel together," he said, getting down on his knees.
Jimmy Bob had a hard time getting down on his knees, but did so, even though the hard concrete floor was painful to them.
Fr. George made the sign of the cross while starting, "Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." Since Jimmy Bob didn't know the response he continued with the preface to the prayer, then said, "Let us humbly confess our sins unto Almighty God."
He continued with the confession, ending with the Lord's Prayer, and then saying the Hail Mary. "Amen," he intoned after the prayer was complete. Then he continued with the blessing, another short prayer with the sign of the cross being made over Jimmy Bob.
Jimmy Bob was listening carefully. He had never heard such a sincere prayer. It had everything covered and was still short.
Fr. George stood, offered his hand to Jimmy Bob, saying, "The peace of the Lord be always with you."
Again, Jimmy Bob didn't know the response, but Fr. George added, "And with thy spirit."
"If you would like to visit sometime, I would be glad to talk to you," Fr. George said, then started to turn away.
"Wait a minute," Jimmy Bob said. "That was a nice prayer. Is that written down anywhere? It seemed like you said it from memory."
"Yes, it's out of our liturgy, a part of the prayers of the mass."
"Could I get a copy of that? It sure seemed to have covered all the bases."
"Sure, I'd be glad to share with you. I'll bring one by later this afternoon," he said thinking that there were paperback copies of the Book of Common Prayer at the church.
He bade Jimmy Bob goodbye. For some reason Jimmy Bob felt better about this whole mess, almost like he was relieved because someone really seemed to care about him.
"Thanks," he told Fr. George as he left.
Doris was enjoying having her personal army in the kitchen. Giving them instructions, then assigning tasks had made it simple. She was there to help each of them and made sure they all tried each other's tasks so if one had trouble later, hopefully, the others would be able to help them out. They had a wonderful lunch consisting of the meatloaf; spinach salad, potato soup and everyone had a small slice of both the apple and cherry pies they had made. A scoop of vanilla ice cream with the pie finished the meal.
After lunch was over, Dale called Jerome Robinson at Crawford GM to find out if they would appraise Joe's Oldsmobile for him. Jerome referred him to Mike Adams, who was their used car manager. Jerome had talked to Mike and told him not to charge them for an appraisal since the Bar-W was a good customer of the dealership.
Mike met with them and looked the car over, giving them two prices. The first was what he would pay Dale if he were selling the car to the dealership. The second was what the dealer would ask if they were selling it from their lot. They thanked Mike and drove back to the condo.
"I'll write you a check for the lot price," Frank said.
"Nothing doing. You'll write me a check for the price the dealer would give me for it," Dale said.
"How about halfway between?" Frank said, still not satisfied that Dale was getting enough money for it.
"No, we're all part of the same family. If I'd taken it to a car lot in Houston to sell it, I probably wouldn't have gotten as much as they offered here, so that's what you are paying for it." Dale was emphatic about it.
"Okay, if you insist, but I want to be fair about it," Frank said.
"That's fair to me and besides, you drove to Houston and were a big help to us. The three of us couldn't have gotten it done in three days time," Dale said.
"Okay, okay. I won't argue with you because you break people's arms when you twist them," Frank laughed.
Dale joined him. "You know I feel really bad about that, but he started it."
"I don't know how Craig was lucky enough to find you, Dale. I don't know a lot about the gay lifestyle, but I know that many men are no more faithful in a gay relationship than a conventional marriage. It's easy to see that you and my son are committed to each other and Doris and I've seen a big change in Craig the last two times we've been with him. I can tell that both of you are in love."
"Frank. Dad." Dale started. "Craig pulled me out of my shell, too. I wouldn't say that I was depressed, but I was feeling sorry for Dale Richards and didn't know what to do about it. There were a lot of things that happened to me all at once. I met Craig, I got promoted, we decided to share our lives with each other, I sold my house, and now Joey has come along. For the first time ever, I feel that I have a family and I can love them and know it's returned."
"Dale, Doris and I love all three of you. The little family that you and Craig have is super and maybe after you get settled and Joey gets to the end of high school, you might want to consider adopting a younger child and raising it. You are both young enough and certainly have good jobs. You would be excellent in that role."
"Thanks. Dad. I guess you want another grandchild?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yeah, Doris and I can spoil them to death, then send them back to you to straighten out the problems we'll cause by overindulging them," he laughed.
"Gee, thanks a lot," Dale laughed. "It is something to think about, though."
"I don't want to get personal, but I know that Joey has a large trust fund and that Joe signed his house over to you to help you provide a nice home for Joey. Are you and Craig serious about finding a larger place?"
"Yes, but we haven't really sat down to discuss it in any detail because we haven't had time. There has been too much going on the last two weeks," Dale said.
"Look, take the money and invest it like the fellow in the Trust Department told you, then use that money to finance the project. Rather than trying to buy a house and remodel it, you have a good architect, build what you want. Joey will benefit as much as the two of you and he will always have a nice place to come home to visit."
"I understand, I just don't want to be accused of mishandling his money."
"You won't be. All three of you will benefit from it and the principal will still be there. You're just using the principal to guarantee your loan and the interest you will pay yourselves will be less than the principal is earning. It's a win-win situation for all of you."
"I hadn't looked at it like that. I'm glad you pointed these things out to me because it really helps me to understand what Leland Stanton was telling me," Dale said.
"Well, I'm not an attorney, but I certainly could do about as well as the ones I work for. You can't help but learn all about the law business when you manage the company."
Dale laughed. "Right. Thanks for the advice. Dad." It felt good to be able to call Frank that. Craig's parents were wonderful people and he knew they were supportive of his new family.
After the Jenkins family ate lunch, Bret told his two older sons that he wanted to talk to them. Paul had already tipped off his older brother that their father wanted some answers to questions he had about what had happened with Jimmy Bob.
Bret Junior thought he had already told his story, and he had - the night at Eddie and Tom's house. At first he thought his father wanted details - details he had tried to block from his mind, but he was really trying to find out about Jimmy Bob's involvement with other boys, either before, at the same time or after Bret.
"Boys, I'm still trying to sort through this mess with Jimmy Bob. It doesn't look as if he's going to get out of jail before his trial and if he doesn't have a good lawyer, he'll probably serve a long sentence in jail.
"Now, Bret, I know we discussed some of this the night your mother and I went to pick you up at Eddie Thompson's house. We are trying to determine how many boys were involved and get their names if we can because, like you, they need to be able to talk to a counselor about what happened.
Bret was able to provide his father with the names of two additional boys, who may or may not have been involved, but they were the same age as him and helped with meaningless jobs, so it was possible that something might have happened.
"I'm sorry that your mother and I didn't realize what was going on. We were proud that Jimmy Bob was interested in you, but we thought that this was some special Sunday School lesson and that you had been chosen to help him. We had no idea that these improper things were happening."
"Dad, I was so confused. All of a sudden he didn't want to talk to me or see me. Then about that time you made me get involved in little league. I didn't want to be there to begin with, but you insisted. I always had a hard time following where the ball was. Somebody would throw the ball and I'd see it leave their hands, coming toward me. The next thing I knew it was right in front of me and it was too late to catch it. I thought you were ashamed of me, too, because I wasn't a good player." Tears started running down his cheeks.
"Bret, your mother and I didn't know you had problems with your eyes until your teacher told us you couldn't read what was written on the blackboard when school started that fall. We took you to the eye doctor and that's when you got your first pair of glasses."
"I know, but I thought you were ashamed of me, too, because I'd failed you. I started reading a lot and really trying hard to study so I could make good grades and you would be proud of me," Bret Junior said.
"And we were - and we still are, for that matter - but we really were frustrated because you quit talking to us. I guess with everything else that was going on, we thought it was just a phase you were going through."
"No, I felt dirty because of what had happened with Jimmy Bob. Then he told me that I'd go to hell and I was scared about that and wasn't about to tell you what had happened. Then I was ashamed of myself because I couldn't play baseball and make you proud of me. Then, you never made a big deal out of me being on the honor roll - like some of the other kid's parents did."
Paul interrupted. "Yeah, bud, you got the standard for grades up so high that I couldn't please dad and mom then because I only got B's."
"Paul, that's not true."
"Dad, it is. If I got a C, then you were unhappy because it wasn't a B. If I got a B, you gave me trouble because it wasn't at least an A-minus."
Bret thought about it. "Yeah, I guess maybe we compared the two of you and we should have just encouraged each of you to do your best."
"Well, I thought it was unfair because Bret is three years older than me and yet you always treated us as if we were the same age." Paul was a little hostile about this.
"Guys, I'm sorry. These last few years haven't been very good for me, either. I took the job as treasurer of the church, but all I was doing was "rubber-stamping" what Jimmy Bob had already done. I didn't have a say in the matter. He expected me to be the arm twister to get people to pay their pledges and give more money. I realized too late that I was doing his bidding and people resented me for it. It was all very confusing and a big headache for me," he told his sons.
"Dad, what's going to happen now? I mean with Jimmy Bob being in jail and all?" Bret Junior questioned.
"Who is going to take Jimmy Bob's place?" Paul asked.
"I don't know. I don't think there will be any preaching tomorrow, just some music and hymns. There is to be a congregational meeting after the service."
"Dad, I don't want to make you mad, but can I go to St. James in the morning? I really like their service. It's so majestic and awesome. And, there are a lot of kids in my class who go there, too. I can still go to Sunday School at Victory Temple and walk over there after that. if it's okay with you?" he questioned.
Who was he to deny his son going to church where he was comfortable - especially after what had been happening at the Victory Temple.
"I'll tell you what. You go ahead and go there if you want. The rest of us will go see what is going to happen to our congregation. Who knows, maybe we'll all go with you the next Sunday. My boss attends church there and others have invited us to visit, so maybe we will."
"Thanks, Dad. I think you would like it, too. The music is just wonderful and sometimes the choir sings in Latin, but the English words are printed in the service folder, too."
"Bret. and Paul. thanks for talking to me. I understand a little better about what both of you have gone through and I'm sorry that your mother and I weren't better attuned to what was going on and to both your needs. I won't promise that we will do better but we sure will try, and you have to tell us if we are wrong, okay?"
"Okay."
"We will," the boys echoed.
After lunch Joey was restless. Being a teenager, he had to be doing something. He really wanted to unpack some of his models and other things, but since his grandparents were sleeping in his room for another night, he didn't think he should ask to go get the boxes from storage. Besides, the big TV set was right in the front of the unit and they would be moving that home so the TV and some other components would be moved to his room, too. Craig had already indicated they would purchase an entertainment center unit to contain all the electronic equipment for his room.
The other thing that Joey wanted, but would wait to ask for - after he found out what some of the local kids had - was a computer. He and his dad, Joe, had discussed it last spring, but never got around to checking out the possible purchase of a system for Joey.
Craig sensed Joey's restlessness so said, "Need something to do with your time?"
"Yeah, I don't have anything to do and I don't know how to find any of the local kids that I met at the party last week."
"Why don't you get your bicycle out and do some exploring? Maybe you'll run into some kids playing basketball or doing something else and you can hang out with them?" Craig asked.
"That might be fun. Why don't you get your bike out and ride with me? Maybe you can show me some more of the neat old buildings."
"That might be fun. Mom's resting and I don't know how long Dad and Dale will be. I don't have anything else to do either. If you run into some kids you want to hang with, then I'll come back home."
"Neat," Joey said, anxious to be doing something.
Craig left a note on the kitchen counter, telling Dale he had his cell phone with him and to call when they got back.
Going down the stairs they saw there was some activity in Mrs. Ernst' apartment. There was a man that appeared to be in his 60's coming up the stairs. He stopped Craig and Joey, introducing himself.
"Hello. I'm Vernon Ernst. My mother lived in this unit," he said.
"I'm Craig Bastian and this is my son, Joey," Craig told him as all of them shook hands.
"I believe that you may have been the last person so have seen mother alive, at least that's what I understood from the police report."
"It's very possible, I spoke to her before going to lunch and when we came back, the EMS people were here," Craig told him.
"I appreciate your concern and that you took the time to call Mr. Dunn. He called me. I can't believe that my sister hadn't checked on her for several days, but I guess she and Mom had an argument about something on Monday. So she decided to ignore her for a few days, not realizing that there might be some health problems."
"I'm sorry about that," Craig told him. "I didn't know her very well, but had spoken to her several times in the last week." He didn't tell him why they had spoken to each other, as that wouldn't solve any problems or make it any easier for Vernon to deal with his mother's death.
"Is there anything my family can do to help you?" he asked.
"Not right now. My sister and I are going through some of her things and will keep items that mean something to us. Then we'll find someone to have an estate sale."
"I can recommend two women here in Williamsport. They held a sale for us last month and did a terrific job. We made more money off that sale that we thought possible," Craig told Vernon.
"I'll definitely want to get their names from you. It looks like you are leaving right now, but I'm going to be sleeping here for two or three more nights. Mom's funeral will be at 10:30 Monday morning at the Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd. I hope you might be able to attend, at her age she didn't have many friends left and there may not be many at the service."
"I think I can be there. Again, we're sorry this had to happen."
"Thank you. Which unit do you fellows live in?" he asked.
"In 5-A," Craig said.
"Okay, fellows. I'll make sure I get those names from you later," Vernon said.
Craig and Joey shook hands and went on downstairs.
They were just bringing the bikes up from the storage lockers when Dale and Frank drove in. Frank decided that he would go on upstairs to read the paper and rest for a while. Dale got his bicycle out and the three set off on a ride around Williamsport.
Tom and Eddie left for Austin about 3:30 so they would have some time to shop before going to Jeremy Houser's home for their dinner with him and Charles Stephens. Their first stop was the Williams-Sonoma store at the large shopping center, close to where Jeremy lived. Tom loved kitchen gadgets and also the condiments the store carried. It didn't take long to accumulate a couple hundred dollars worth of goods. After putting their purchases in the trunk of Tom's car, they wandered up and down both levels of the mall, buying a few things here and there that caught their eye.
They enjoyed shopping together; looking independently, then catching the other's attention to look at something they thought was interesting.
Finally it was time they should be starting to their dinner engagement. They had stopped at a liquor mart on the way to the shopping center to purchase 3 cases of wine and a couple of cases of liquor, as prices were much cheaper than in Williamsport.
When they arrived at Jeremy's house, Tom pulled a bottle of cabernet wine out of the box to give to their host.
They heard footsteps as soon as they rang the bell. Their friend, Charles Stephens, from Houston answered the door. He welcomed them, giving each an embrace and a kiss on the cheek.
"Guys, it's wonderful to see you again. I'm glad that Jeremy was able to catch up with you and that you were free to join us for dinner this evening," Charles told them.
"Thanks, it's good to see you again, too, Charles. How is the world treating you?"
"The only way I can get away from it is to either come visit Jeremy or turn off my telephone," he laughed.
Jeremy Houser appeared in the door of the living room about that time. "Well, are you going to introduce me, Charlie, or do I have to do it myself?" he said, grinning.
"Jeremy Houser, these are my friends Eddie Thompson and Tom Bryant."
"I'm pleased to meet both of you. Eddie, it was good to talk to you on the telephone the other day and it's nice to meet both of you in person. Thanks for joining Charlie and me this evening."
Eddie and Tom shook hands with Jeremy, exchanging greetings.
Tom handed him the bottle of wine.
"Guys, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. If you don't mind, I've already opened a bottle of white wine for dinner."
"Put it in your reserve stock," Tom said. "We hope you will enjoy it for another meal."
"I'll do that. Now, what can I fix you to drink? I think my bar is pretty well stocked - at least it was before Charlie arrived last evening," he laughed.
Tom and Eddie immediately liked Jeremy. He was one of those rare persons you felt that you had always known when you first meet them. Both Charles and Jeremy wanted to know more about the "Jimmy Bob" story, so Tom and Eddie told everything they knew over drinks.
Finally Jeremy excused himself to finish in the kitchen, but refusing any help. "This is a simple meal, just needs several things done at the last minute. You three go ahead and catch up on all your friends in Houston."
Charles brought them up to date on several old friends they had in common. Several had moved away from Houston, one couple had split up, each taking a new partner, but still remaining friends. They visited for about 15 minutes when Jeremy appeared in the living room door.
"Hey, Guys, I think we are ready to sit down. My food taster died a couple of months ago, but I think this batch came out okay," Jeremy told them.
"I'd wondered what had happened to Bruno," Charles laughed. I thought maybe you had him locked in your dungeon again.
All of them laughed, Tom and Eddie wondering if Jeremy really had a dungeon.
Jeremy served a wonderful spinach salad with slices of Mandarin oranges, cranberries and walnuts with Balsamic vinegar dressing. It also had bean sprouts and water chestnuts in the mix.
The visit continued with Jeremy asking a lot of questions of the men as there were several things he wanted to clarify, even though Charlie had filled him in on some details.
"Do you guys miss the hustle and bustle of Houston?" he asked.
"No, not on your life," Tom said. "We've gotten used to the slower pace of Williamsport and we have a lot of supportive friends there, both gay and straight. We both like our school and the students are mostly good, with few problems. Certainly, we don't have the exposure to drugs and other bad influences as in the larger cities."
Eddie agreed. "That's not to say we don't have problem kids, but it's largely because their parents shouldn't have ever had kids to begin with, or they are ignored and don't fit in, so make life tough on everyone else, too."
"What about the community? What's their attitude toward those of us who have 'alternative lifestyles'?" Charles asked.
"You mean other than Jimmy Bob Jones?" Tom asked.
All of them laughed.
"We've not really run into any out and out bigotry. That's not to say that it's not out there, but the school board has hired several of us who are gay, although that's never been a question in an interview. There are several clergy who are supportive and, at least, have published notices of our Dignity/Integrity chapter meetings in their church bulletins. Our own priest is gay and he and his partner, who also is the organist/choirmaster, have helped us start this group. The congregation knows they are gay - it's never been a secret - everybody thinks they are great and the parish has grown by about 200 members since they came to Williamsport about three years ago," Tom said.
Charlie took up the salad plates while Jeremy plated the main course for serving. It was chicken thighs that had been boned, sauteed, then finished in the oven, baked in an Italian tarragon and tomato sauce and served on a bed of noodles. Accompanying that was steamed broccoli with a sour cream sauce and fresh English Peas. Charlie poured a white chardonnay wine and there were dinner rolls to go with the meal.
Of course, everything tasted good and Jeremy shared his recipe ideas with the others.
The conversation continued, asking about their hobbies, home life and involvement in other activities in school, church and the community. Other questions were about their home, location, number of rooms and floor plan.
Both Jeremy and Charlie had a lot of questions for the men and, in turn, answered a lot of questions they had.
Finally, over dessert, Jeremy asked, "Would the two of you be willing to go to two Saturday workshops to see how our program works and then take a couple of tests for certification?"
"Yes," they answered, almost together.
"I don't have the final decision on your becoming certified," Jeremy said, "but I can assure you that I will give you a good recommendation to my boss. He will be leading the workshops and I'll have to call you about the dates, as I don't believe they are set at this point in time. But, we need more people like you fellows and I'm sure this will work out for us and for you."
After they left the table, they spent another hour visiting and getting to know each other.
Eddie and Tom's offer to help with the dishes fell on deaf ears, Jeremy telling them that was the reason Charlie came to visit.
Driving back to Williamsport, Eddie and Tom held hands. Both were excited at the possibility of a new venture in their life.
"Are you okay with this?" Tom asked Eddie.
"Very definitely. I'm glad society has made progress in the last ten years in recognizing gay people and their needs. I just wish I'd had someone to talk to when I was in high school. We can do some good, regardless of being a counselor or providing a stable atmosphere for a young boy, or maybe boys, to grow up in," Eddie said.
"Me too. I agree with what you said. Dale and Craig lucked out with Joey. He seems to be a responsible kid, smart and looks to me that he's going to be a leader. They could have gotten a hostile boy to deal with," Tom answered.
"Let's be honest with each other about this. I don't think we are going to luck out like they did. If we get a boy, chances are he's already been abused by his parents and shunned by other students. We can make a difference in his life, but it's not going to be a case of getting a new roommate like Dale and Craig did," Eddie said.
"I understand, and I'm prepared for the worst - at least I hope so," Tom answered, squeezing Eddie's hand.
"These workshops sound like they cover about every situation. But, we're not dealing with a 'routine' situation, unless we get really lucky. I mean, look at Bret Jenkins, Junior. His father tossed him out, but he was under a lot of pressure to do the bidding of a bigot. He realized that he'd made a mistake and I think with counseling that family will probably do okay. At least it looks that way right now."
"I sure hope so. He's an honor student and his parents aren't dumb by any means. His father just needs to be 're- directed' in his focus," Tom said.
"I'm just wondering how many boys are going to pop up that have had a bad experience with Jimmy Bob?" Eddie asked.
"Not enough. at least not the ones who should. Some of their parents will deal with it through denial, ashamed to tell anyone what happened because they think it reflects badly on them, or that their boy did something 'dirty' and there a stigma that might hang over him. Unfortunately those feelings get suppressed and often don't surface again for many years," Tom stated.
By this time they were on the outskirts of Williamsport. Eddie reminded Tom that they needed some breakfast rolls and coffee from the grocery store.
That night when Dale and Craig crawled into each other's arms after going to bed, they realized that neither had shaved that day. Rubbing their faces against each other felt like they were being rubbed by sandpaper.
Dale still hadn't noticed that Craig had been allowing his mustache to grow since Wednesday. However, when Craig had looked earlier in the day, it just looked like he had a "dusting" of hair on his upper lip. Maybe it was going to be as light as his hair and not show up very well.
But surprisingly, the little bit of stubble they had made reaching new erotic highs easier, as it tickled when rubbed in the right areas of their bodies. Each was horny to begin with as their playing around that morning had been cut short because they heard their guests making noise and talking in the living room.
Joey was lying in his bed and could hear muffled noises coming from Dale and Craig's bedroom. He'd really like to know more about what they were doing. Was one of them - or both - getting a blowjob? Or, were they doing something else?
The thought made him hard, so it was back to using the socks he'd worn in his athletic shoes all day. The combination of sweaty socks and horny teenage cum was a pungent smell no one passing through the room could have missed.
Sunday morning Joey woke up about 7:30. Mitsy wanted to go out, so he pulled on his briefs, remembering the paperboy had caught him without any clothes several days before. He let Mitsy out to relieve herself. He ducked into his bathroom from the door in the hallway, then pulled on his Levis when he came back. Mitsy was right back upstairs, ready to come inside. Although the weather had cleared, it was cold this morning.
He let her back into the apartment, following her to the kitchen to feed her and turn on the coffeepot. He remembered to take his socks with him and put them in the laundry hamper.
He was just going back to the living room when Frank came in from the hall. He was wearing pajamas and for some reason Joey thought that strange. He had slept in the nude for several years, ever since finding out his father did the same. He was pretty sure that Dale and Craig slept that way, too.
"Morning grandpa," Joey greeted him.
"Good morning to you, Joey. How's my favorite grandson today?"
"Grandpa, I'm your only grandson," Joey said, laughing.
"That may be true, but you're still my favorite," Frank said as he walked past and gave him a squeeze about his shoulders.
"Is the coffee ready, yet?" he asked.
"Probably won't be long. I'll get cups out. Do you want some orange juice or milk? The milk comes from the ranch and is real milk instead of that blue, watery stuff they sell in the grocery store."
"I'll have a half glass of milk. All you fellows keep raving about it and I haven't had a good glass of milk since they used to deliver it to our doorstep in glass bottles."
"Glass bottles?" Joey questioned.
"Sure, we used to be on a milk route. The salesman who drove the route left the milk on our doorstep and took the empty bottles each day, or whatever frequency we wanted it delivered. We could order cream and butter, too."
"That's neat. I didn't know they ever did anything like that," Joey said.
"Oh yeah. We never had an icebox where the iceman came around everyday. You had a card you put in your window for however much ice you wanted and the man would bring it in the kitchen and put it in the box. The ice kept things cool and drained into a pan under the box as it melted. We always had a refrigerator, but it was only a few years before I was born that my parents and grandparents had an icebox."
"Cool," Joey said, and then laughed. "I guess it really was 'cool', wasn't it?"
"You've got that right," Frank laughed.
By this time the coffee was ready. Joey poured each of them a mug, along with a glass of milk.
He had picked up the newspaper when he let Mitsy out, so it was spread out on the counter where they could both look at it.
They enjoyed their time together, commenting about articles in the paper and visiting about whatever came to mind. This was the first day since last Monday Joey couldn't find a mention of the "Jimmy Bob" scandal.
Dale and Craig had already shaved and showered and partially dressed when they arrived in the kitchen. They wanted a glass of orange juice before their coffee. Craig remembered the cinnamon rolls they had baked the previous day, so got them out and put them on small plates. He set the butter out for anyone who wanted it and said they could warm their rolls in the microwave if they wanted a warm roll.
The rolls, of course being homemade, were good. Craig couldn't wait for them to try to make some without the supervision of his mother. He wondered what kind of mess they would end up with.
Doris came into the kitchen wearing a caftan. She had been through the shower and it wouldn't take her long to dress when they got ready to go to church.
Craig started a second pot of coffee after he filled a mug for Doris, and then topped up each of the other mugs.
"What's our schedule this morning?" Frank asked.
"Somebody needs to make sure Joey is at church by 9:55 so he can put on his choir vestments and be ready for the choir rehearsal at 10:05," Dale told them.
"The mass starts at 10:30, but we like to get there early so we can hear the organ prelude before the mass starts," Craig said, "so we need to leave here by 10:10."
"That works for us," Frank said.
"I can take Joey to church," Craig said.
"Doesn't make any difference. Anybody that's dressed and ready to go can take him," Dale said, "because there isn't time to dress after they get back here."
Dale took Joey to the church, then upon returning home it seemed that he barely had time to put his jacket on before all of them were ready to leave.
Doris thought all three of her men looked sharp and told them so. They rode in Frank's new car, as it was easier for Doris to get in and out of. Frank parked in the lot and the four of them walked up the sidewalk together, Craig holding the door for everyone to enter.
Dale led them down the long aisle of the nave, genuflecting and entering the fifth row. Doris sat on his left, then Frank and Craig was on the aisle. Each knelt for their prayers and were finishing just as the organ prelude started.
Paul had chosen to play the "Litanies" by Jean Alain for the prelude. It was a wonderful piece of music for a prelude and really showed off the organ.
Joey couldn't wait to get to the narthex so he could watch the choir, clergy and acolytes assemble themselves for the procession. Everyone had their proper place in the lineup and there was no joking around after arriving at the front door of the church.
The choir was to sing an introit, prior to the processional hymn, from the back this morning. Although the feast day had been a couple of days earlier, this was a celebration of St. Luke the Evangelist and the vestments were red and gold instead of green as the previous Sunday.
Joey wondered what all this meant and knew he wanted to talk to either Fr. George or Paul about the different colors used.
The choir took its place just inside the nave, standing in the walkway behind the last row of chairs. The assistant director, Mark Roache, gave them their starting note with a pitch pipe, and then intoned, "Right dear, O God, are thy friends unto me, and held in highest honour."
Immediately after the introit, Paul introduced the processional hymn, "For All the Saints", using the trompette en chamade to play the "Alleluias" at the end. As the choir and congregation started singing the first verse, the thurifer moved into position with the young boy carrying the incense boat on his left. The acolytes carrying the processional cross and candles took their place behind them. At the beginning of the second verse, the procession started moving with the choir falling into place behind the cross and candles. After the choir came the clergy cross with the other acolytes, readers, deacon, sub deacon and celebrant behind it. Father George was resplendent in a red and gold cope this morning.
It took all 8 verses of the hymn, plus Paul's usual improvisation before the last verse, including liberal trumpeting with the big en chamade reed over the west door to get everyone in place in the choir stalls and around the altar.
While the altar was being censed, the choir sang a second introit: "What thanks and praise to thee we owe, eternal God and Word divine, for Luke, thy saint, through whom we know so many gracious words of thine."
Craig happened to glance to his left as this ceremony was taking place. Tom and Eddie were across the aisle, one row ahead and Bret Jenkins, Junior was standing between them. 'Wasn't that interesting?' he thought.
Since this was the celebration of a major saint's feast day, the choir sang an English translation of a Schubert mass, without the participation of the congregation. Everyone always looked forward to hearing the excellent choir sing something like this.
The assistant rector gave the short homily this morning. He told the story of St. Luke, his life and of the Gospel book attributed to him. Dale felt the whole service was worth attending just to hear this.
Finally it was time for communion. Paul played the organ quietly while the choir went to the rail, then returned to their seats. He had arranged several hymns for the choir to sing and it wasn't until after Dale's family was back in their seats that the choir started on the second hymn. It was "Picardy" (Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence) and Joey sang the second and third verses as a solo with the choir humming in unison on the second verse and humming a counter melody on the third verse.
When Joey started his solo, Dale leaned over to Doris and whispered, "That's Joey singing."
She looked startled, then listened, a big smile covering her face. Craig did the same, whispering to Frank. Truly, they were proud grandparents.
Things almost got out of hand at the service at the Victory Temple on Sunday morning. Riley and Lois Boyd had arranged for an evangelist friend of theirs to come preach to the congregation, paying his expenses themselves and had provided a place for he and his wife to stay at their house.
It was a small congregation that gathered to worship. Many of those who regularly attended were trying to decide if they wanted to be associated with the congregation anymore, as they felt Jimmy Bob's problems were a direct reflection on them and that they were ashamed.
So instead of the usual crowd of around 150, there were 47 there and they were not happy campers. They felt that Riley and Lois Boyd were pushing their own agenda and when the guest minister got up to speak, it became very clear he was expecting to be called to preach to this group.
He heaped criticism on Jimmy Bob, which was okay with most of those attending, but when he started berating the congregation for "hiding under a bushel and not letting their light shine forth", several got up and walked out. This infuriated those who were still sitting in the pews and someone yelled, "boo" at those leaving. Unfortunately, the minister thought the catcall was intended for him and he unleashed a barrage of words on those remaining.
One of the men who had always been a good supporter of the church stood to interrupt, saying, "Just who do you think you are to come here this morning and say what you've just told us? Can't you see that we are trying to figure out what happened and regroup so we can deal with the events of this past week? If you are campaigning for the job, I'm withdrawing my support and will vote against you."
As he sat down, most of those left started applauding, yelling, "Amen!!" and "Right On, brother!!" This demonstration lasted a full five minutes.
Finally, Riley Boyd walked to the pulpit, trying to silence the congregation.
Another person yelled, "Sit down, Riley."
Still another stood up to speak, "You've encouraged Jimmy Bob to get involved in areas where he shouldn't have gone and I have it on good authority that you were the one who leaked the story of Marlene and her boyfriend. To me, that's about as unchristian as you can get, hitting a person when they are down."
More applause.
"Another person stood to ask, "Have you actually taken the time to go to the jail and visit with Jimmy Bob?"
Riley was standing there with his head bowed, not knowing what to say.
The man continued. "That's what I thought. You've been his supporter ever since he came here and at the first sign of trouble, you turn your back on him. I'm not saying that he's innocent or guilty, that's not for me to decide, but it's pretty uncharitable on your part to bring in another minister this quickly and try to secure your position with him, then force him down our throats."
More applause and "Amens" from those still there.
The music director was trying to get the attention of the congregation to join in singing, "Blessed Assurance".
Bret Senior was sitting there thinking that this was the last Sunday he was going to be attending this circus. He would turn in his books this afternoon. He didn't want any part of this and was glad the cash they had found had already been deposited in the bank.
While half of the people were trying to follow the hymn, the other half walked out, gathering in the hallway outside the sanctuary.
At this point in time they didn't have a leader, but went into one of the classrooms to talk. One of the men got the attention of the 22 people in the room. "Does anyone know how this congregation is set up? By that I mean, are we incorporated and do we have a board of directors, or some such group?"
No one knew.
Someone else spoke up. "We had a meeting on Wednesday night, but nothing was decided. Riley and Bret announced that they had found about $115,000 stashed in file folders and other places. What happens to that money?"
A woman stood up. "I remember when we got the incorporation papers, it was when Dr. Arnett was still here. But I don't think there has been an official church board for some years. Jimmy Bob pretty much ran things his way and told people what he wanted to do."
"Yeah, and he got by with it, too," a man said loudly.
"I think we'd better call for another meeting and pay an attorney to look everything over and tell us where we stand. There is no use losing this building if it can easily be saved, but we need responsible people running this place and if we call a minister, he should be responsible to the board."
"Amen," was shouted by several.
About that time those who had stayed in the sanctuary joined them. Although there had been words earlier, the animosity didn't carry over into this impromptu meeting. They all wanted to resolve this and needed answers to their questions.
Since Bret Jenkins was the only apparent officer present, he finally agreed to go to the jail to visit with Jimmy Bob to see what he could find out about the legal status of the congregation and if there was an attorney who was the legal counsel for the corporation. It was agreed that they would meet again on Wednesday night at 7 p.m.
The few members who stayed shared their covered dish meal. About half of those who had brought dishes had left without taking picking up the dishes they brought. There was plenty of food for everyone.
After mass was over, most of the congregation made their way to the parish hall for the punch and cookies offered. As they were on their way to the hall, Doris spoke up.
"You didn't tell us what a wonderful voice Joey has, or that he was going to sing a solo this morning."
"We wanted to surprise you. Dale and I were surprised last week because he sang a solo in the offertory anthem and we didn't know anything about it ahead of time, either," Craig told them.
Frank and Doris had attended church with Craig several times before when visiting Williamsport. Many people told them hello and gave Dale and Craig kind words about Joey's singing again this morning.
Bret Junior was elated with the service, telling Tom and Eddie thank you for allowing him to sit with them.
The choir arrived in the parish hall several minutes later. Of course, they immediately made their way to the food table, like all young men. It takes a lot of energy to sing a service like the one they had just finished.
Doris and Frank latched on to Joey, giving him praise and a hug. He was enjoying being the center of attention again because as soon as his grandparents were through, other parishioners surrounded him.
Bret Junior, of course, remembered Joey from the previous Sunday night's meeting. He wanted to join Joey's fan club, too, so stood in line to talk to him. Joey told him he would be starting school the next morning. They discovered their lunch hours were the same, so agreed to meet in the cafeteria.
Shortly after that, Fr. George and Paul arrived in the parish hall greeting everyone in the room, it seemed all at once yet individually. Dale was amazed at the way he worked the room. No wonder St. James was the fastest growing church in Williamsport.
Dale had seen the notice in the church bulletin about the Inquirer's class starting that evening, so asked Craig about it. When they had a chance to speak to Fr. George they asked him about it. He told them they were welcome to attend and to bring Joey since he had expressed an interest in knowing more about the Episcopal Church.
"There should be about 23 people in this session tonight," Fr. George told them. We'll have Evening Prayer in Founders Chapel at 5:30, then meet in the small parlor on the second floor of the parish hall."
Fr. George spotted Bret Jenkins, Jr. in the crowd and made a special effort to talk to him. "Welcome back, Bret. Did you enjoy the service today?" he asked.
"Yeah, I sure did. Why were the robes red and gold today? When I was here the last time they were green and white."
"Today we are recognizing St. Luke, one of the apostles who was martyred. Because his blood was spilled for the church, we honor him and other martyrs by wearing red."
"Neat," Bret said. "I really would like to know more about this church. Can I come ask some questions later?"
"You are welcome to do that. This evening we are having an Evening Prayer service in Founders Chapel, that's the old building on the other end of the complex. The service is at 5:30 and we will have an 'Inquirer's Class' afterward that will last about an hour. A lot of what you want to know will be covered in that class, however, this is just the first in a series of classes which lead to membership for those who desire to seek it."
"I'll have to see if I can attend, but I'd like that," he said.
"I hope to see you there, Bret. Now, if you'll excuse me I have other people I need to tell hello."
"Okay, thanks Fr. George. I hope to see you later."
Fr. George greeted Frank and Doris, remembering their names, and told them he hoped they would be back again soon. Both wished their own parish priest had a personality like Fr. George.
Joey checked with Craig to make sure which of the men were Tom and Eddie before going over to talk with them.
"They had been talking to another person and greeted Joey warmly as he walked up. They introduced him to Doug Waters, who was a senior at Davy Crockett High School. All three of the men had nice things to say to Joey about having him in the choir and hearing him sing a solo two Sundays in a row.
"Thank you. Paul is an awesome director, isn't he?" Joey said.
"Oh, he certainly is. And a great organist, too. I just wanted to sing at the top of my voice on "For All the Saints" this morning, Eddie said.
"Well, I'm glad you didn't, I'd been embarrassed that people would have thought it was me standing there singing," Tom teased.
"You're just jealous because you can't read music," Eddie said.
"Obviously, you can't either," Tom retorted.
Joey was enjoying this repartee. It was like being with his two Dads.
"Tom, when we were in Houston last week, I visited my old school to turn in my assignments and to tell some of my teachers and friends goodbye. My history teacher there was Vince Marshall and he told me to tell you 'hi' when I saw you."
"That's a surprise. We taught together for two years at Horace Mann, then he transferred to Remington and I moved to Williamsport."
"He said you had taught together, but I didn't know where. He's a good teacher."
"Yes, I always thought Vince was very dedicated. He really enjoys teaching and, like me, loves history."
"I just wanted to let you know that he asked to be remembered. I see Dad Dale waving at me, so I think they are ready to leave. Bye," Joey said. "I hope to see you again soon."
"Goodbye, Joey. Hope you have a good first day at Davy Crockett tomorrow," Tom said.
"Take care, Joey. Tell your Dads that we need to get together sometime soon, now that we know our meetings have police protection," Eddie teased.
"Will do, see ya, guys," he said as he started toward his family.
"Isn't that neat, the way he refers to both Dale and Craig as his 'Dads'?" Tom said, watching Joey walk off.
"Do you think we will be so lucky?" Eddie asked.
"We can only hope," Tom told him.
Dale and Craig took their family to the "Skillet House" for lunch. Their specialty was fried chicken, served family style. New platters and bowls of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn in cream, coleslaw and dinner rolls kept appearing as the old ones emptied. If you left there hungry, it was your own fault. Then there was "home-made" ice cream for dessert.
After they arrived back at the condo, Doris and Frank changed their clothes. Their boys helped load the two cars for the return trip to Arlington. Amid kisses and hugs, they insisted that Dale, Craig and Joey come to their house for Thanksgiving and to stay for a couple of days. They agreed they would all arrive on Wednesday night and stay until Sunday afternoon. Dale and Craig could show Joey some of the neat things to see and do in Ft. Worth and Dallas.
Tom and Eddie had a great day on Sunday. They had been surprised when Bret Junior called to tell them his father had given permission for him to attend church at St. James and wanted to know if it was okay for him to sit with them. They were also surprised to find out that the entire Jenkins' family might visit the following Sunday.
After arriving home, they decided to pack a picnic lunch and find a nice place to eat. They debated about riding their bikes, but decided a cooler was easier to pack and take in a car, so got Tom's TR-6 out and put the top down.
They rode out to the lake close to the power plant. It was a beautiful day to be out in the sun and they took their time getting there, riding clear around the lake. Tom picked a spot on the sandy beach and they sat on the shore, enjoying each other's company and talking about their dinner with Jeremy and Charles the evening before.
"I hope those workshops are soon. They just about have to have them in the next couple of weeks, or wait until after the Christmas holidays," Tom said.
"You know how government agencies are and how slowly things move. Then all of a sudden the paperwork is cleared and they want it done yesterday. But it will be interesting to attend the workshops to see what they address and how they expect us to deal with their idea of how things should be," Eddie answered.
I have the feeling that Jeremy Houser will be great to work with. I sense that he really has the best interests of the boys at heart and is willing to see to it they are safe and secure rather than following the regulations to the letter," Tom told him.
"I agree. We'll just have to wait and see what happens,"
"Wasn't it interesting to hear from Vince Marshall, and through Joey?" Tom asked.
"Certainly was. We haven't heard anything of him for a couple of years. He took it pretty hard when his friend, Lance, left with the male stripper that was performing at that big bash they went to in Galveston. Lance barely left with the clothes on his back because Vince wouldn't allow him back in their house," Eddie laughed.
"I don't blame Vince a bit. Several of their friends claimed Lance had been running around behind his back, so it must have had some truth to it. If I'd been Vince, he wouldn't have even gotten his clothes," Tom said.
"What would you have done with them, given them to charity?"
"No, I would have burnt them on the front lawn and made sure he was watching," Tom said.
"Ouch, remind me to never get on your bad side," Eddie laughed.
"You bring out the best in me," Tom said, giving him a kiss.
"Hey fella, d'ya wanna mess around some?"
"Thought you would never ask," Tom said, unbuttoning Eddie's shorts.
(to be continued)
Author's Note: I would appreciate your comments, criticism, suggestions, and anything else that you would care to say. I try to answer all e-mail, but sometimes miss one or two. If you wish to receive e-mail notification of subsequent postings, please let me know by sending your request to the following e-mail address: TulsaDriller7@aol.com
My special thanks for proofreading help to Paul Daventon, who has taken time to help me catch obvious errors.