Chapter 20 

Karl motioned for the others to remain as quiet as possible. Tony's voice on the phone sounded so weak and soft that Karl had difficulty hearing him.

"Tony. Please. What's the matter. Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying."

"You are, Tony. I can hear you. Please tell me. What's happened?"

"Your father fired me last night. Please don't be mad."

"Tony, why did he fire you?"

After a long pause, Karl asked again, "Why did he fire you? Don't tell me that after he warned you about it six months ago, you did it again?"

"No."

"Tony, tell me the truth. Who was it this time? And where did you get caught?

"Well, I drove your mother and father to the club for dinner and then went and parked the car in the parking garage. I was about to go down and wait for them in the chauffeur's lobby of the club when I saw one of the other chauffeurs looking at me. We started talking and then one thing led to another . . . ."

"Alright, Tony, tell me what happened."

"Well, he just said he'd like to fuck me, so we got in the back seat of my limousine and just when he got his cock all the way into my asshole, your father appeared. He had come up there to the garage to get your mother's shawl since she thought the dining room was unusually chilly. We both had our pants off. Apparently your father knew who the other chauffeur was and knew his employer. So the other chauffeur pulled out of me and got his pants on real quick and ran. He was so scared."

"Never mind him, Tony. So he fired you on the spot, is that it?"

"No. He told me to wait in the car. Then when they were ready, I drove them home. After your mother went inside, he asked for the car keys and told me I was fired. He told me to get off his property and he didn't want to see me anymore."

"Oh, Tony, I might have known you'd get yourself in trouble again. You were just lucky he didn't fire you the first time he caught you fucking somebody in the car. You'd better start looking in the employment ads. I'm sure there are others who are looking for chauffeurs. But you've got the problem now that father will never give you a recommendation. And since you worked for some time once as a cook, you'd better look at the cooks want ads, also."

Tony began to cry again. "Karl. Please. Can you bring me down to Texas with you. My rent's due and I don't have enough to pay it. And your father never gave me any severance pay. He just told me I was fired and that was it. Please, Karl."

"For one thing, Tony, there's no work down here for you. You're too small and slight to do any heavy work with the rest of the hands down here. And there's another important thing, Tony."

Karl tried to speak very kindly, not harshly. He knew that Tony was a very sensitive young man, and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt him in any way. So he spoke very gently. "You know that you've always been special to me. But the kind of relationship you and I had is over. You know that. I have someone here in Texas who I'm with now. And we love each other very much. So the kind of relationship we once had can't happen anymore, Tony. If you came down here, I think it would be very hard for you."

"No, Karl. I wouldn't be any trouble to you. I wouldn't bother you." Then with a tearful voice, he said, "You're my only friend. I have no one else to turn to. Please! Oh, Karl, please."

It was true that Tony had always been very special to Karl. It was almost unthinkable that Karl would now abandon Tony when the young man needed his friend more than ever. Karl tried to stifle his own tears, but his eyes filled with them anyway at the thought of Tony up there alone in New York.

"Tony, I assume you're in your apartment. I have your phone number. Just stay there for awhile. I'll call you back very shortly."

"Okay. Love ya, Karl."

"Love ya, too, Tony."

As soon as Karl hung up, he reached for his napkin and held it up to his eyes. Then wiping the tears from his cheeks, he said to the others. "I don't know what to do. He's a very dear person, and I hate to see him in trouble like this."

Michael put his hand on Karl's forearm and said, "Why can't you bring him down here, at least for a little while. Maybe we could find some work for him. If not here, maybe in town. I got the gist of your conversation, and I don't think you should turn your back on a friend, no matter what."

The others nodded in agreement.

"That's very charitable of you. But there's something I don't think you understand. Tony and I were lovers once. We loved each other, although we never lived together. I don't think that would have ever worked. I still feel that we're good friends, but the sexual affair between us is over for me. I would put money, though, on the fact that the attraction he had for me is not over. I don't know that I can deal with that—or if I should be made to deal with it. You know, Michael, Tony has hardly no skills. He can drive a car pretty good and he's a really good cook, but that's about all. And he really needs someone to take care of him. He's twenty-four years old, but in many ways, he's like a child. I was not only his lover, I think I also filled the role of a father figure."

Maggie spoke up. "You say he can cook?"

Karl said, "Yeah, but don't worry, Maggie. He wouldn't be coming down here to put you out of a job. You might be an asshole sometimes (weak laughter) ,but no one can cook a great meal like you can."

Maggie pulled up a chair and, putting her elbows on the table, she said, "I'm not worried about that. But this brings up something I've been thinking about for quite awhile now. But I never thought it would be possible. You know, cooking three meals a day for you guys and all those ravenous ranch hands seven days a week is no picnic for me. I have a friend in Goliad who has been after me to consider working for Meals-on-Wheels about two days a week. It would only mean my being away from here for just two supper meals a week. It would give me a kind of break each week that I think I really need. Michael, would you be willing to hire this Tony person as kind of an assistant to me? Even when I'm here, I really need someone to help me put on these big meals. But if he's as good a cook as you say he is, maybe he can handle the two evening meals when I'm in town delivering meals to the elderly."

Without hesitation, Michael said, "You're on, Maggie!"

Karl smiled faintly and said, "That would be great, Michael, if you would do that for Maggie, as well as Tony. But there is still the problem of Tony and his attraction to . . . or his wanting to be with me."

Michael said, "He's your friend, Karl. There can be nothing more important than to be there when a friend needs you. If our love is solid, Karl, there's nothing saying we can't deal with the other thing . . . you know, his feeling for you.

Both Jeff and Paul agreed. Putting his arm around Karl's shoulders, Jeff said, "Now you pick up that phone again and call Tony back. Tell him we'll send him the plane fare or, better yet, we can make the reservations from here and all he needs to do is to show up at the airport at flight time."

Karl bent his head over and kissed Jeff's hand as it rested on his shoulder. "I knew there was another reason why I wanted to start my life over down here on this Texas ranch with you guys. There ain't no better friends on the face of the Earth than you!" Wiping his eyes one more time, he said, "I love you guys more than you can ever know. And you, too, Maggie."

Karl called Tony back and told him that it was decided that he could come down to Texas. He was informed about the arrangements that would be made for him to assist Maggie in the kitchen and that he would be called upon to prepare a few meals by himself each week. Karl told him that plane reservations would be made and he would notify Tony of the flight number, date and time. It would be an electronic ticket, and all he would have to do is show up at La Guardia with a picture I.D.

Several days later, Brian Hovis drove on to the ranch to assume his new job of taking care of the animals. Now that he had earned his Bachelor's degree and finished his pre-veterinary program, he decided to delay his entry into the School of Veterinary Science at the University in Austin for no more than a year to give him time to experience a Vets job first hand. He was given a room of his own in the bunkhouse, with the idea that another ranch hand may be assigned to share it with him as time goes on. Brian always considered himself an only child, even though there were other children in some of his foster homes. But he always had a room of his own. Even at the University, he always roomed alone. He valued his privacy and could not imagine what it would be like to share with someone else what he believed should be his private space. He made very few friends at the University. In fact, he shied away from those persons his age who tried to be friendly. He was so frightened that he would reveal something about himself that would make people think he was gay. The thought that anyone would consider him as a gay person terrified him.

There was something about Josiah, however, that was different from all those pushy and preppy guys at school. Brian felt so in tune with Josiah, somehow. There was nothing threatening about him, as there always seemed to be with other guys he'd known. He and Josiah had so much in common. It seemed as though they understood each other completely the moment they met—even before any words were spoken. Here was the friend—perhaps a soul mate—who Brian had searched for, but never thought existed.

Even though both had busy days, Josiah and Brian always made an effort to get together as often as possible. In the late afternoons after their work was done, they would frequently saddle up horses and ride out to the stream where they had gone on the first day they met. Josiah had never talked to anyone about his years in foster care, but somehow it felt so natural to tell Brian about them. Brian, by and large, had a considerably better experience with his foster families than did Josiah, but at the same time, he had an understanding of Josiah and the life he had led better than any other person could have.

To Brian, amazing things were happening in his life. Not long before, he had met a man to whom he was able to freely pour out his feelings about his homosexuality. Mario was the first man Brian had ever met who seemed like a father to him. There was nothing about himself he would not tell Mario. He would share his deepest feelings with Mario. Who could dream of having a father more wonderful and loving. And now, Brian looked upon Josiah as a brother. If not a real brother, a brother nonetheless. They didn't look alike, but Brian felt that they somehow shared the same genes, the same thoughts, just as he heard that twins did. Thoughts of both Mario and Josiah gave him a wonderfully warm and secure feeling.

Brian talked to Josiah about Mario and what a gentle, fatherly person he was, and what a revelation it was, for the first time in his life, to open his heart and soul to him. Josiah was amazed at the parallels. He told Brian what Jake had come to mean to him since that day when he unknowingly aborted Jake's suicide. Like Brian, he had never known what it was to love and care for someone—a father, a brother, a mother—until Jake came into his life

Josiah also felt as though he had found a brother in Brian. During their visits to the stream, Josiah taught Brian how to skip stones over the water. He taught Brian all the things that Jake had taught him about guns and hunting. They spent hours in target practice. One particularly warm afternoon, Josiah suggested they strip down and go in for a swim. He had always felt self-conscious taking showers with the other guys at the ranch. But somehow, being naked with Brian didn't bother him. Brian had been going without a shirt, so his skin was well tanned to match that of Josiah. The water was still very cold, and they stayed in for only several minutes. When they climbed back onto the grassy shore, they both had very stiff erections. When they looked at each other, they laughed.

Josiah said, "I always get a hard dick when I get cold. Let me ask you. Do you ever play with your dick?"

Brian was a little stunned at the question, but answered, "You mean jerk off? Yeah, all the time."

Josiah said, "Well, Jake told me that a lot of guys like to play with their dicks . . . or rather jerk off . . . together."

"Did you ever do it with Jake?" inquired Brian.

"Yeah, he's the only one I ever done it with."

"Well, I only did it with one other guy myself. And that was Mario. So our first time for both of us was with an older guy. I guess we could do it together, couldn't we?"

"Okay. We both got hard dicks. Jake says whenever guys have hard dicks, they should jack off."

Lying about five feet apart, they both started vigorously stroking.

Josiah said, "You know, Jake told me not to go so fast and slow down. But I just can't ever slow down."

Brian chuckled. "That's just what Mario told me, too. But it really is hard to slow down, isn't it?"

Brian and Josiah watched intently each other jacking off. In about three minutes, Brian began to stiffen up and, with his hips bucking, shot several streams of thick white sperm onto his stomach. Seeing this, Josiah also came, depositing his own load onto his stomach. Josiah licked the sperm off of his fingers as Jake always did, and Brian did the same, as he had seen Mario do.

After they lay there for several minutes staring at the clouds above, Brian said, "Josiah, this was fun. We should do this all the time up here."

"Yeah, all the time! You know, I wish we could go away for a few days up to a place I know on the Pecos River where we could do some really fun Quail hunting. Jake and I went up there once. There ain't very much Quail down here on the ranch, but we bagged a bunch of them up there on the Pecos. That would be a lot of fun, don't you think?"

"Oh yeah. When do you think we could go?"

"We can talk to Jake about it."

That night, after Jake and Josiah went to bed, Jake said, "Josiah, are you asleep yet?"

"Not yet, Jake."

"Why don't ya come up here on my bed and join me. I kinda feel like whackin' off. How 'bout you?"

"I don't feel too much like it tonight, Jake. I already jerked off just before supper time."

"Ya did?"

"Yeah, me and Brian did it together up by the stream just like me and you did it that one time."

"Ya did? Does he do it as good as I do it?"

"No, we just did it to ourselves, not to each other."

"Oh. Ya like Brian a lot, don't ya?"

"Yeah, I really like Brian a lot, Jake. I never had a friend like him before. He's like if I had a brother. I don't know what having a brother is like, but if I had one, I'd want him to be just like Brian. I hope he never leaves here."

"Well, Josiah, he's gonna have to go back to school probably next year."

"I know, I hope we can keep staying friends."

Jake surprised himself. He stayed remarkably calm. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't upset. He actually felt a kind of happiness for Josiah. He knew that Josiah had never been happier in his life than he was there on the ranch, and he knew that it never would have happened if he had not brought Josiah back to the ranch and gave him a new life. Yes, he should be happy for Josiah. Don't wish otherwise. Jake will always survive. But it's Josiah's happiness that counts.

"Jake, remember when me and you went up to that place on the Pecos River and hunted Quail? I'd like to take Brian up there for a couple of days sometime. We've been doing target practice and Brian is pretty good now. Don't you think he would enjoy some real Quail hunting?"

"I think he would, Josiah. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

As Josiah lay with his arms up under his head, staring at the ceiling and thinking about going Quail hunting with Brian, he could hear the sound of lubricant on Jake's hands as he masturbated alone in his bed. Soon, he heard several muffled grunts from Jake and then silence.

"Good night, Jake. I love you."

"Love you, too, my dear boy." Jake could tell from Josiah's breathing that he had quickly drifted off to sleep. He thought how different Josiah had become. He thought back to the day the two had met and the days and weeks following. Josiah was so withdrawn and untrusting and, in some ways, so mysterious. Now, as Jake looked down on Josiah's sleeping face, sweet and dear in the rays that came into the room from the yard lights, he saw Josiah as a child, with the eagerness and enthusiasm of a young boy, innocent and full of life and expectations. Jake reached over and touched Josiah's cheek. As he lay back and stared at the ceiling, he had visions of Josiah, scrawny, pale, and hungry with sadness and years of pain etched on his face, framed by his dirty, stringy blond hair. He pictured Josiah on the highway, hitchhiking to El Paso with hundreds of drivers passing him by. He could see Josiah walking and walking and disappearing over the horizon into oblivion. He looked over at Josiah again and smiled. He thought that if should die tonight and never awaken, his greatest legacy would be the life of that beautiful boy, Josiah.

The day finally came when Karl and Michael drove to San Antonio to meet Tony as he got off the plane from New York. When Tony arrived and spotted Karl, he was disappointed that Karl was not alone. Karl and Tony hugged each other and Michael extended his hand to Tony.

"Tony, I want you to meet Michael Walker. Michael is the friend I talked with you about."

Tony shook Michael's hand rather coldly and looked away. Michael looked at Karl with a slight smile as though to say he understood. Michael knew that Tony would like to be alone with Karl for a while, but Karl had insisted that he come along to the airport.

When they arrived at the ranch, Maggie had a pitcher of cold lemonade and freshly baked cookies waiting for them on a tray on the front verandah. Maggie poured the drinks and passed the cookies and then joined them since she wanted to meet and get to know Tony. Tony was strangely untalkative and Maggie had a hard time drawing out the information she wanted in order to see what kind of cooking experience he had.

Maggie finally said, "Tony, if you would join me later in the kitchen when I'm working on supper, perhaps we can talk then about what you will be doing to help."

Tony said nothing, and with a wink to Karl, Michael said, "I've got to go and see to something. I'll leave you two alone to catch up after not seeing each other for several months."

Karl was clearly irritated. "Tony, I was afraid it would be like this. I told you before you came down here that things were different. You'll always be a friend, Tony, but Michael and I are now together. He is now my partner both in business and in life. You've got to understand that and you've got to accept it. I am not going to have you down here moping around acting like a spoiled child whenever you see me with someone else—or with Michael, specifically."

"I'm not acting any way, Karl," said Tony in the most pitiful voice he could manage.

"You are, Tony, and I want it to stop. If it doesn't, I'm putting you on a plane and sending you back to New York. And don't think I won't do it. I have established a whole new life for myself down here with Michael, and I am not going to tolerate your whining and sniveling over it."

Tony continued to look pitiful and sad. It was obviously calculated to move Karl to put his arm around him and comfort him, which is exactly what Karl did. "Tony. Oh, Christ, Tony! Don't act like this. You're down here where you wanted to be. Now make the best of it and just think about what I said. Okay?"

Tony agreed, but Karl was not convinced that Tony would really make an effort to behave.

Maggie and Tony apparently got along well, with the both of them seeing very much eye to eye on kitchen matters and on their cooking habits. About five days later, Maggie told Tony that the kitchen was his for the Sunday dinner, and that would be a final exam of sorts that would prove or disprove Tony's ability as a cook. Tony took the truck into Goliad to purchase some of the food supplies for the dinner he had planned. The dinner turned out to be an enormous success, far more elaborate than anyone expected, and far more expensive than would be allowed in the future.

The dinner was the same for everyone—ranch hands and family alike. It began with a large shrimp cocktail served artfully in a bed of lettuce and chopped celery with a rather hot cocktail sauce. The next course was a Caesar Salad with a creamy dressing that Tony made with egg, olive oil, and parmesan cheese. For the main course, a choice was offered: medium rare prime rib with Yorkshire pudding or a fine rack of lamb. There was also a choice of twice baked or mashed potatoes, and a choice of vegetables, including, asparagus, green beans, corn on the cob, and buttered carrots. Also served were a variety of hard rolls and bread. To drink, everyone got their choice of white or red wine. For dessert was a large bowl of peach cobbler with heavy cream. And then, of course, coffee, either American or Mexican style.

Everyone agree that Tony had passed his exam with perfect marks. In fact, this little Italian fellow with the New York accent who had been viewed initially with a bit of suspicion by the more rugged members of the work force, now became the darling of the ranch jockeys—darling in the sense that he now represented the promise of gourmet dining for all, and for all time. Maggie was quick to warn them, however, that this meal was to be considered something special, not as a signal of things to come.

Since Tony was now considered a member of the household staff, he was given a room of his own in the main house. He had come to enjoy the job of cooking again more than he thought he would, and he enjoyed the recognition that he received for his work. He had never received so much as a word of thanks from Karl's father.

During the week following the great gourmet Sunday dinner, Maggie began her volunteer work in Goliad with Meals on Wheels. She would be working each Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for the evening meal only. Beginning at 4:30 in the afternoon, she was provided with a van from which she would need to deliver ten meals each evening. On her first day on the job, everything went very smoothly as she delivered the first nine meals. There were five quite elderly women and four elderly men, all living alone in rooming houses and apartments.

The last person to which she delivered a meal was a rather sour old man whose name was Homer Kesselring. Maggie had been warned about him. None of the other volunteers would deliver a meal to him after their first visit. He lived in a fairly respectable and well-cared-for building with four apartments, two on the ground floor and two on the second floor. He occupied one of the upper floor apartments. Homer was eighty-three years old and had suffered a stroke three years before. It had not affected his mind, but he was left with slight paralysis on his left side. He was no longer able to drive, nor could he do much walking. He remained house bound in his apartment where he pushed himself around in a wheel chair by the strength of his right arm.

It was about 6:45 p.m. when Maggie knocked on his door. She could hear Homer shouting that the door was open. When she entered, she came face to face with Homer, who sat scowling at her.

"I suppose you're the new one who's going to deliver my evening swill every night. Just put it over there. I'll try to eat it later."

Maggie glanced about the room and was amazed. Everywhere she looked there were beautiful antiques-furniture, vases, Victorian picture frames and Turkish rugs. A large Governor Winthrop desk with its front panel lying open stood against the far wall. It was strewn with papers and several open books. Large floor to ceiling bookcases lined the wall opposite the large double windows, which were hung with carelessly tied back damask drapes. A large crystal wine decanter and a half-filled glass of red wine sat on a low table beneath the window. The late afternoon sun cast an orange glow on a pile of unread newspapers on the floor. On the wall next to the desk hung a pastel water color portrait of an attractive young girl, perhaps in her teens. On a chair near the desk was an open, but empty violin case. Glancing around, hoping to see the violin, she noticed that Homer was clutching it in his lap. The bow had fallen to the floor beyond his reach.

Maggie stepped over and leaned down to retrieve the bow for Homer, but he swatted at her arm and said. "Leave it!"

Straightening up, Maggie said, "I saw that you had your violin and thought that you had dropped your bow. I was just . . . ."

"It's no concern of yours," shouted Homer. "You came here to deliver that swill you call a dinner. Now get out!"

As Maggie opened the door to leave, Homer shouted, "Wait a minute! Come back here. What's your name?"

"My name is George." Maggie preferred to give her real name. She figured that giving the name Maggie would be just a little too provocative with this man. "It's George Peterson."

"Hmmm. Peterson, eh? Where you from?"

"San Antonio."

"Go over there, Peterson, and look to see what kind of shit they sent me tonight to choke on."

Opening up the carton, Maggie said, "Well, you've got a nice big slice of ham with a raison and pineapple sauce, a half of a sweet potato, green beans and a roll. For desert, it looks like you've got a piece of apple pie."

"Okay, Peterson, cover it up again. I'll think about eating it later."

Maggie stood, continuing to take in the sight of all the beautiful antiques in the room until Homer shouted, "What are you waiting for? Now get out!"

As Maggie drove the van back to the Meals-on-Wheels office, she decided that she would give them notice that she would not return to Homer Kesselring's apartment a second time. As she entered the office, she made this known to the manager, who pleaded with Maggie to go back at least one or two nights since there was no one else willing to do it. Maggie agreed, but for no more than two nights.

The heat of summer was now descending upon the ranch. The night was still and humid. Michael had been at his desk most of the evening going over the month's bills and figuring orders for supplies. It was about 10:00 p.m., and Karl sat on the front verandah hoping for a breeze. He had stripped off his shirt and sat only in a pair of shorts smoking a cigarette. His father had sent him a box of King's Pride, his favorite English cigarettes. He would smoke one in the late evening occasionally, but the box would always last for several months, causing him to discard the last five or six for being too stale to smoke.

Tony appeared at the door. "Are you getting any breeze out here? You ought to come on in where it's cool. There's a good movie just came on. It's "Casablanca" with Bogart. It's on the classic movie channel."

"I saw that movie years ago, Tony. And, yeah, it is a good movie. The acting's kind of old-fashioned, but you'll enjoy it."

"Karl, why don't you come in and watch it with me."

"No, Tony. I just want to sit alone for awhile and listen to the coyotes off there in the distance. It's so peaceful out here."

Tony walked over to Karl and sat down on the floor in front of him. "Karl, I miss being with you. We never see each other. You're always off doing something and I'm always stranded in that fuckin' kitchen."

Tony laid his hand on Karl's ankle and moved it slowly up over his calf, pulling gently on the soft hair that covered Karl's leg.

"Tony, stop it. Do you want me to make good on my threat to put you on a plane and send you back to New York? I'll really do it, you know."

Tony's hand had moved up over Karl's knee and thigh and was now inside of the leg of Karl's shorts.

"Tony, I mean it. Now, stop it!"

Karl could feel his penis expanding rapidly into a full-sized hard-on. As Tony fondled Karl's balls with one hand, he rubbed Karl's sizeable bulge with the other.

Tony put his lips on Karl's thigh and ran his tongue down over his knee. "I love the dimples in your knees, Karl, and to run my tongue over them."

Karl felt the blood rushing to his head. He ripped open the top of his shorts and allowed his gorged penis to spring out into the open. With both hands, he grabbed Tony's head and pushed it down onto his throbbing cock. "Suck it, Tony," he whispered. "And hurry!" Tony took Karl's hard penis all the way down to Karl's pelvic bone. Karl could feel Tony's tongue swirling around the head of his penis. "Oh, my God, Tony, suck it harder! Faster!"

"Oh, excuse me, Karl. I'll talk to you later." Michael had suddenly appeared at the door. When Karl heard his voice, he started cumming. Tony pulled off quickly and fell backward onto his back, while streams of Karl's sperm landed on the floor of the verandah.

Karl didn't bother to clean up. He just pulled his shorts up and went inside. He walked down the hall to Michael's room. Opening the door, he found Michael standing at the window looking out.

"Michael. Oh, God, Michael. I'm so sorry. I just couldn't help it."

Still staring out the window, Michael said, "I know."

Karl stammered, "Tony pushes me so hard. We used to be lovers. I mean, we're not anymore. He doesn't leave me alone."

"I know."

"Michael, please. I've got to talk to you." Slumping down on the side of the bed, he said, "I'm not a good person. I'm a terrible person. I try to be a good person, but I can't. I love you, Michael. You're all I want."

"I know." Turning to look at Karl, Michael said calmly, "It's alright, Karl. Really. It's alright."

"No, it isn't. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't want anyone but you. I think of you day and night. But I can't help myself sometimes. I try, but I just can't help myself."

Sitting down on the bed and putting his arm around Karl and pulling him close, Michael whispered, "I said it's alright, Karl. We'll work it out."

They both undressed, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. Michael held Karl's head against his chest, while Karl lay still with his arms around Michael's waist. Karl hated the thought that he had this unwholesome addiction to sex wherever and whenever it presented itself. As he lay with his head pressed against Michael's chest, he felt relief—relief that Michael was now aware. There would be no more quick episodes of sex with others with the thought that it would be the last time and Michael would never know. He thought it must be a feeling similar to that felt by homosexuals who finally out themselves to their parents and are relieved to discover their parents are understanding and supportive. He thought now that Michael knows about this problem, it won't be so hard to beat it. An enormous and overwhelming feeling of love for Michael suddenly overcame Karl, and he began rubbing Michael's body vigorously and nibbling on his chest. His penis suddenly became hard and he rubbed it against Michael's leg.

Michael shook Karl lightly, holding onto his arms firmly. "No, Karl. Not tonight. I need to sleep. You need to sleep. I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you, Karl, that you have handed me something tonight that I need to deal with. Right now I need to sleep, if I can. I can't do anything else. I know everything will be alright. But right now, we can't do anything. We have to sleep."

Karl put his hand on Michael's tear-soaked cheek. "I love you, Michael. I want to show you how much."

"I know. But not now. I can't talk about it now. Go to sleep, my love. We'll talk tomorrow."

Because the night was so warm, Enrique became restless and couldn't sleep. It was about midnight when he finally got up and went outside the door and sat on the step. There was a slight breeze, and it felt good and cooling on Enrique's naked body, which was moist with perspiration. The moon was almost full, its light making the landscape look lonely and ghostly. Enrique sat with his arms encircling his knees, which were pulled up close to his chest. He sucked idly on the soft hair that covered his thighs and knees as he listened to the far away howling of coyotes.

Corky soon came out and sat next to Enrique. "Ricky, what's the matter? You've been kind of moody all day. Can't you sleep? And you haven't come over to my bed in several days now. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," said Enrique with his lips resting on his knees and staring at the ground.

Corky put his arm around Enrique's shoulder and held him tightly. While he ran his hand over the shapely calves of Enrique's legs, he said. "We worked hard today, didn't we? I think we all got a lot done today. Everybody worked hard. I noticed that Jake and Josiah drove off really early this morning with the truck full of fence stakes, and they just barely got back in time for supper."

Enrique nodded, "I know."

Corky and Enrique sat quietly for awhile. Finally, Enrique looked up and said, "Corky, do you like Josiah?"

"Sure, I like Josiah. He's a whole different person from when he first got here. Jake's been a real Paw to him. And they work together so well."

Enrique looked down again. "I know. He used to be a real Paw to me too. But he doesn't talk to me much anymore."

"That's probably because he's got Josiah now." Corky regretted saying that the moment it came out of his mouth.

"Yeah, that's probably the reason."

Corky put his hand under Enrique's chin and raised it so they looked into each other's face. Then Corky said softly, "Ricky, do you miss Jake?"

Enrique turned his head away. "Naw. I don't miss him. He can do what he wants, I guess."

Corky said, "You do miss him, don't you?"

As tears began to roll down Enrique's cheeks, he sobbed, "Why doesn't he talk to me anymore, Corky? Don't I mean anything to him anymore?"

This was coming as no surprise to Corky. He had been aware that Enrique had never gone without wearing the gold chain that Jake had given him. He wore it even when they were in bed together. Corky had never felt that Enrique had completely committed himself to their relationship.

Corky pulled Enrique closer and pressed the boy's head against his chest. "Ricky, why don't you just go up to Jake and talk to him?"

"He's too busy all the time. Besides, he's got Josiah, as you said."

"Ricky, come on inside. I'll rub your back. It'll help you go to sleep."

"Okay."

Enrique willingly lay on his stomach on Corky's bed. As Corky began to move his hand lightly over the soft skin of Enrique's back, Enrique said softly, almost as though he were talking to himself, "And, you know, they sing songs together in their room at night. He never did that with me."

Corky ran his hands down over Enrique's round and firm little ass cheeks and down over the soft hair covering the backs of his legs. Corky's cock became so hard, it almost ached. It was like feeling fine silk as he ran his hands over Enrique's smooth skin. He leaned over and kissed Enrique's buns, running his tongue over them and then down the back of his slender legs, sucking lightly on the hair that covered them.

"I love you so much, Ricky. I always hoped you would come to really love me, too."

Enrique made no reply, but his breathing became more rapid, which meant that the feel of Corky's hands on his skin was beginning to have its erotic effect. Corky gently spread Enrique's ass cheeks apart and slowly lowered his face into the trench where he lightly ran his tongue over Enrique's pink little hole. Enrique let out a sudden grunt of pleasure. Corky could feel on his tongue that Enrique was relaxing the muscle around his hole, which Corky knew was always meant as an invitation to enter it. Enrique raised his hips slightly as Corky's tongue slipped into his rectum.

Soon, Enrique rolled over on his back, revealing an erection that was throbbing and bobbing visibly. Enrique smiled sweetly at Corky and, putting his hands on either side of Corky's head, pulled him down so they could kiss deeply. Then kissing Corky's large dark and sensuous eyes, he said, "I do love you, Corky. But I just get so confused sometimes."

Enrique raised his legs and held his knees tightly against his chest. It was the signal that Enrique wanted to be fucked by Corky's cock. Once again, Enrique's asshole muscle was thoroughly relaxed and Corky's gorged cock slipped easily through it and was completely swallowed into Enrique's rectum. Enrique knew that Corky liked to have his asshole tickled while he was fucking. As he was sucking Corky's cock into his rectum, Enrique reached around behind Corky as far as he could so he could run his fingers over his asshole.

"I'm cumming, Ricky. Where do you want it?"

"Cum on my stomach, Corky."

Corky pulled out of Enrique's asshole, making a loud slurping noise, just as his orgasm was beginning. Enrique raised his head and watched as great long ribbons of thick white sperm spewed out of the end of Corky's penis. Watching sperm shoot out of the end of someone's penis was one of the most erotic things that Enrique loved. Thick warm pools of sperm lay gleaming white on the dark skin of Enrique's stomach. With his finger, he scooped up Corky's sperm and ate it slowly.

Then as Corky lowered his face into Enrique's crotch and licked and chewed gently on his ball sack, Enrique brought himself to orgasm with his own hand. Corky raised his head slightly and took the full blast of Enrique's hot sperm onto his face. He then leaned over to kiss Enrique while Enrique cleaned off his face with his tongue.

Corky and Enrique said nothing more to each other. They lay next to each other with their bodies pressed together. Corky resumed gently rubbing Enrique's back until Enrique was asleep. Corky, still wide awake, thought about his relationship with Enrique. He could feel that Enrique did love him. But there would always be Jake who came first. Corky realized that his overwhelming love for Enrique would never be enough to hold him in the end—not as long as Jake was there.

Josiah and Brian talked with Jake about taking their hunting trip to the Pecos River. Brian owned a fairly late model Honda Civic in good shape. Jake was feeling particularly charitable toward them and suggested they take off for about five or six days.

"You boys drive on up along the Pecos to somewhere around Grandfalls. It's good huntin' around there. Then drive down into the mountains around Fort Stockton. We can git y'all fixed up with campin' equipment like me and you took, Josiah, when we went out there. Ya ever been out campin', Brian?"

"No, sir."

"Well, Josiah knows how to pitch the tent now and how to build a camp fire, don't ya, Josiah?"

"Yup! Jake made me pitch the tent and make the fire, and even make the coffee, the last two nights we were out there. We really had a lot of fun, didn't we, Jake?"

Brian said, "I'm pretty familiar with that area around Grandfalls. It's only about forty-five or fifty miles south of Midland where I lived."

After packing the car with equipment, food, and water, Brian and Josiah started out on their trip. Heading northwest up along the Pecos, they drove for most of the day before reaching the Grandfalls camp ground. Before entering, they stopped at a MacDonald's on the highway and bought a half dozen cheeseburgers and a bucket of French fries. By the time they got the tent pitched, the fire started, and the coffee brewed, it was dark. They were now in the so-called Texas hill country, where the evenings were cool, even in July.

As the two boys sat by the fire, eating their cheeseburgers, and staring into the flames, Josiah said, "Ain't this great? I feel so good. I never felt good ever in my life. I never knew what it really felt like to feel really good! Don't you feel great?"

Brian smiled at Josiah's cheerfulness and watched the shadows from the flames dancing across Josiah's happy face. And he could see the flames reflected in Josiah's bright eyes. "I do feel great, Josiah. Just the two of us out here. No one's telling us what to do. I never realized I could feel so free. I can see why Indians liked to dance around the camp fire. They were so free."

Brian stood up and turned around several times, lifting his feet in a mock Indian dance. Josiah started laughing and then stood and joined Brian. They both whirled around, trying to imitate the Indian dances they had seen in movies and making whooping noises with their hands and mouths. They began laughing so hard, they could no longer stand on their feet and both fell to the ground doubled up in laughter.

After awhile, they both fell silent and stared wistfully into the flames. Then Josiah said, "Did any of your foster fathers take you to any place fun?"

"No. They were always too busy. I didn't mind, though. I liked being alone by myself."

"Did you ever do anything fun?"

Brian smiled and said, "I loved reading adventure books. That was fun. My favorite was Moby Dick. Did you ever read that?"

"No, I never read anything. I never had any books. I think I spent my life trying to stay out of my foster parents' way. Even though there were usually other kids in the house—the real kids of my foster parents—I was lucky to always have my own room. It was the only place I felt safe. I know they all hated me and wished I was dead. You know what I did mostly?"

"No."

"I used to lie on my bed and look at the cracks in the plaster in the ceiling and pretend they were roads on a road map. Then I would imagine little towns on those roads, with little houses and families in them. At one place I lived, I used to stare at the window shade on my window. It was all cracked and full of little pin holes from being raised up and down so much, and the light that came through those cracks and holes would form shapes of people's faces and of birds and animals. I remember that there was one broken part of the shade that had cracks in it that formed a man's face that looked like he was smiling at me. I used to sometimes talk to him. And I imagined he would talk to me. His name was Hank. Not really, but that's what I called him. And I think he was the only friend I ever had."

Brian said, "That makes me feel so sad, Josiah."

"You shouldn't feel sad, Brian. I don't think of Hank anymore—not since I came to the Walker Ranch."

Poking at the fire with a stick, Brian said, "When I was growing up in foster homes, I had one good friend once. I liked him a lot. It was when I lived in Midland. He lived next door. He was older than me, but we got along pretty well. We'd go out in the woods behind our house where he and I had built a tree house. And we'd sit up there with his binoculars and we'd watch birds and squirrels and 'possums. That used to be fun."

"Do you still know him?" asked Josiah.

"No, we stopped being friends one day."

"Why."

"Oh, I don't know. He called me a . . . ."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I just stopped liking him."

Brian and Josiah sat and stared silently at the fire for awhile. Brian finally asked, "Why were you named Josiah? Who gave you that name?"

"My mother named me Josiah."

"Do you know what happened to your mother?"

"Yeah. One of my foster fathers—the son-of-a-bitch—tried to tell me she was a prostitute and when she got pregnant and had me, she gave me away. But my foster mother told me that was a lie. She said my mother was a good woman and real religious. Her name was Mary. She was in love with some guy, but when she got pregnant, she pleaded with him to marry her. But he got scared and left, and she never saw him again. Her parents disowned her and she was taken in by some friends at her church. When I was born, she told them to put the name Josiah on my birth certificate. And she died the next day. My foster mother told me it was from complications after I was born. I know my mother was a good person. But she was abandoned just like I was. The people my mother stayed with wanted to adopt me, but they were old and not in good health. So I was just stuck into the 'system.' You know, the foster system."

"I'm glad you told me, Josiah," said Brian.

"Well, I guess we better get some sleep," said Josiah as he rose to his feet. "When I was here with Jake, we had to get up pretty early. He said quail hunting is best real early."

They doused the fire with water and covered it over well with sand. Stripping down to their underwear, they climbed into the small tent and into their sleeping bags next to each other.

After they were settled and lying quietly, Josiah said, "Goodnight, Brian."

Brian replied, "Goodnight, Josiah."

After about ten minutes, Josiah could hear Brian moving around in his sleeping bag. "Are you awake, Brian?"

"Yeah, are you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, goodnight Josiah."

"Goodnight."

After awhile, Josiah heard more movement next to him. "Brian, are you playing with your dick?"

"Ah . . . yeah."

"So am I."

They both unzipped their sleeping bags and stroked their penises quietly.

"Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me when you're going to shoot."

"Okay."

"Brian, do you want me to jerk you off? Jake likes me to jerk him off all the time."

"Yeah, if I can jerk you off, too."

"Yeah."

Josiah sat up and opened the front flap of the tent, letting in enough moonlight so they could see each other's bodies. Lying flat on their backs on top of their sleeping bags, they each had hold of the other's hard cock.

As they came closer to their climaxes, their breathing became heavier and their stroking got faster.

Brian gasped, "My God, I've never had anyone jack me off like this. It feels like nothing I've ever had. I can feel it in my balls and I'm gonna cum now!"

"I'm cumming, too. Oh, my God! Go ahead and let it go, Brian! I'm gonna shoot now!"

Both Brian and Josiah let out simultaneous moans and growls like two wounded animals as they both shot their sperm onto their stomachs and onto each other's hand. As their orgasms slowly subsided, they lay there gasping for air and holding tightly onto the other's penis. Even as their penises began to deflate and collapse, they held on. Then, watching each other, they each put their hands to their mouths and licked off the other's sperm.

After awhile, when he had finally caught his breath, Josiah reached into his sleeping bag where he had conveniently stowed a large towel for just such an eventuality. After wiping themselves dry, they returned to their sleeping bags, bid each other goodnight, and were both soon asleep.

As soon as the first rays of morning appeared, Brian and Josiah arose and packed the tent and other equipment in the car. They drove out to the highway and stopped at MacDonalds for breakfast. It was not long before they were on the road again and into the hunting reserve near Great Falls. They spent the entire day traipsing through the woods, but very few quail appeared. They each had several opportunities to bag a quail or two, but neither of them came close to hitting them. They finally had to admit that they weren't very good hunters, and they weren't very good with a rifle. But it had been fun just being together.

Deciding to call it a day, they started out late in the afternoon for Fort Stockton where they would camp that night. As they drove, the hills seemed to become higher and steeper and the roads became more winding, all without railings to protect the cars from going over the steep drop-offs. As they drove, about twenty motorcycles came up behind them. It was obviously a motorcycle club. Each male driver had a female sitting with him. Several of them started to pass, roaring their engines and grinning at Brian as they passed the car. They were passing him so closely that Brian became a bit unnerved. As Brian began making the turn on a particularly sharp curve, several motorcycles roared by the car, startling Brian so severely that he instinctively swerved to the right to avoid them.

At that moment, the car's front wheel went off of the pavement onto the soft shoulder. The curve was very sharp and it was impossible for Brian to bring the car back onto the road. They could feel the car tipping and sliding to the right, and then falling and falling, and rolling and rolling, tumbling endlessly until it came to rest upside down in a dry ravine, many yards below the road. Both Brian and Josiah lay unconscious. As Josiah awoke, everything around him was red. It was the sun just beginning to set in the midst of a blazing red sunset. Brian, still strapped into his seat hung upside down with his head bent against the crushed roof of the car as though his neck were broken.

Josiah reached down and felt his own legs. He thought both of his ankles were broken. He had no feeling in his feet. He reached up and slowly undid Brian's seatbelt and let him drop onto his side. The passenger door had flung open on the roll down the hill, and Josiah did his best to pull Brian out of the car into the tall grass. Brian was still unconscious, but Josiah could tell he was breathing. He looked up the side of the cliff to the road. There was no sign of the motocyclists. Surely they saw the car go over. But none stopped to help. He could hear cars up on the road, but they weren't visible.

Josiah's legs had been severely scraped, and blood was beginning to soak through the front of his trouser legs. He sat leaning against the wreck with Brian's head in his lap. Brian's hair was wet with blood. Josiah pushed the hair out of Brian's eyes and stroked his face.

"Brian, please wake up. Please, please. Please wake up."

To Josiah, it seemed like hours before Brian's eyes fluttered and he became conscious.

"Oh, my legs!" Brian called out, and rolled off of Josiah's lap and flat on the ground.

Josiah, still with little feeling in his feet and ankles, lay next to Brian. With blood beginning to run into his eyes, Brian reached over and touched Josiah. "Is that you, Josiah?"

Ripping off his own t-shirt, Josiah used it to wipe the blood off of Brian's face. He rolled close and pressed his cheek against Brian's cheek. "Yes, it's me, Brian."

Brian reached his arms around Josiah and pulled him close with their cheeks still pressed together. Josiah held Brian's head and kissed his cheek and his neck over and over again. Josiah suddenly felt an overwhelming love for Brian. It was a wave that overtook him; something he'd never felt before. A simple decision came to his mind. If Brian died, he would die with him. There was no question in his mind. It was as simple as that. A feeling of absolute peace swept over Josiah as he held Brian in his arms. Brian had lost consciousness again, and Josiah very gently kissed Brian's eyes, his cheeks, and his lips.

As tears rolled down Josiah's cheeks, he whispered, "I'll never leave you Brian. I'll never leave you." Josiah's head began to feel as though it were spinning. He closed his eyes and could see jagged daggers of light flashing before him. He thought he might be dying. He was sure he was dying. He felt himself slipping away and held Brian tightly in his arms so they would be sure—wherever they were going—to go together.

Josiah regained consciousness and opened his eyes to see the first rays of morning sunlight coming over the hills. He was cold and shivering without his shirt. Looking down at his ankles, he saw they were swollen and black and painful to the touch. Looking at Brian, who had not yet awakened, Josiah realized that he had lost a great deal of blood. Brian's trouser legs were soaked with blood. Still weak and dizzy himself from loss of blood, Josiah dragged himself to the rear of the car and tried to open the trunk to get some blankets and water. The trunk lid, of course, was hopelessly jammed. He looked up to the road. He could hear cars going by, but they could not be aware of the accident below them. He couldn't walk. He knew his ankles were broken, and the pain was getting more severe. He tried crawling toward the incline leading to the road, but it was too steep. Returning to Brian's side, he lay beside him with his face buried in the crook of Brian's neck.

Josiah was cold and frightened. The warmth of the sun felt good on his bare skin, but he once again began to feel as though his body were weightless. He held tightly to Brian's arm so that he wouldn't float away without him. Then all went black.

By mid-afternoon, Brian awoke to find Josiah's arm lying across his chest and his face pressed against his. Brian felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness and believed that Josiah was dead. Looking past Josiah, Brian saw Paul coming toward them, smiling and holding out his arms. Brian tried to call to him, but his mouth was dry and his lips were stuck together. Then Brian saw Adriano coming behind Paul. The only sound Brian could make was "Mmmmmm." Relief at seeing Paul and Adriano turned to despair when they suddenly disappeared. Brian tried to move, but there seemed to be no strength in his legs. He was so parched that water was all he could think of. But there was none.

Josiah began to stir. He and Brian looked into each other's eyes. Brian whispered, "I thought you were dead. Paul and Adriano are coming after us. They're here, but I don't think they saw us." Then looking off in the other direction, Brian tried to call out, "We're here, we're here!" Josiah began to cry. They were both weak and thirsty, but managed to roll close again and press their faces together. Brian could taste Josiah's tears as he ran his parched lips over Josiah's cheeks.

Josiah whispered, "Don't let go of me. We're going together. I feel like I'm floating away from you. Hold onto me!"

As they held onto each other, they each began to drift in and out of consciousness. Just then, Josiah called out, "It's Jake! He's here for us! Look, Brian! Jake, we're here, we're here!"

As the sun began to set on another day, a cold chill settled into the valley again. When Josiah awoke the next morning, he hardly felt the cold. His whole body seemed numb. He was certain that he was in his cot at the ranch and Jake was in the bed next to him. The pain in his legs and ankles seemed to be gone and he felt a serene contentment he had never felt before. He was vaguely conscious that Brian was lying next to him, but he was convinced Brian, who hadn't awakened, was dead, and that they were both being carried away.

All through the day, they both drifted in and out of consciousness, each believing the other was dead. By late afternoon, Josiah could no longer see. When he would open his eyes, everything was gray. He felt he was going blind. He tried to speak to Brian, but there was no response. Weak from loss of blood and barely able to move himself, he struggled to lean over, and he kissed Brian on the lips. Brian's lips were cold and there was no breath. Gently stroking Brian's cheeks, Josiah whispered, "I love you Brian. I promised you we'll go together." Josiah's hand fell lifeless from Brian's cheek to the ground, and all went black.
 

To be continued...