Faith Is What Keeps People Going.

Chapter 18

Ephesians 2:8-9

* King James Version

For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not

of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works,

lest any man should boast

 Part 1

 Chaplain O’Malley walked slowly towards his room on the base. His heart was heavy and troubled as he thought back over the conversation he had just finished with a young troubled soul. He didn’t have the answers and yet he knew that in his faith, there was a reason for him not being able to provide the answers that so many were asking him.

His eyes never glanced upwards, as he slowly walked the hallway towards his private quarters. It was strange really how in the military it was the team effort and yet the spiritual leader for the men was kept isolated from the rest. Sure the officers all had separate quarters, for the most part, but even that was different than his own situation. It was almost as if the military knew they needed men of God among them, they just didn’t know why they needed them so much nor what to do with them. After all, it was a bit odd to have someone who preached about love to men who were trained to kill other men, and yet that was his job, and for 24 years it had been his life’s work.

However, at 52 years of age he was feeling uncertain, even questioning his purpose in life. Chaplain Mark O’Malley had entered military service at 28 and now at 52, he was suddenly being assailed with doubts and fears about his purpose in life. Through his long service, even in the harsh realities of war that he had witnessed first hand in Bosnia and Kosovo he hadn’t doubted his mission in life, but only now, here in peace time had he come to question it all.

Sitting in the small police jail cell with Adam he had found himself actually feeling anger, but not towards Adam but towards his maker and that was something new to him, something that made his very soul tremble with fear. How could he, a man of God be so angry with the Lord he served? It wasn’t his place, or so he had been led to believe, but lately all he could do was question. Was he suffering a crisis of faith or was he just simply in need of a vacation?

Whatever it was, it would have to wait, because he knew that he needed to stay here, to see the whole thing through with Adam. His was such a troubled soul and yet so many out there were girding themselves to hate this man, well not really a man despite his age. Inside was still a child, of that he was certain and he couldn’t understand how someone so young, so confused, could have perpetrated such a crime against two fellow human beings, and yet he had done it, as his confession clearly told him.

He entered his private quarters and stared across at his small single bed. It looked so comfortable and out of place in a building designed to house men of war, and yet here he was, a man of God taking comfort in finally being home, being away from those who needed his help the most. He couldn’t help himself as he slowly fell to his knees, clasping his hands together and bowing his head as he began to slowly pray, to ask for guidance even though he knew that he most likely would not see the sign, even if the Arch Angel Gabriel himself were to deliver it. His mind was clouded by his doubts and so he knelt, praying for the strength to see beyond the misery and hatred that was filling his world.

Adam Westbrook sat on the single cot in the cell and stared at the blank wall ahead of him. He was still feeling unsure of his new surroundings and the initial shock of capture was finally wearing off. He had spoken to the base chaplain, but the old man just couldn’t understand all that was going thru Adam’s mind. He thought for sure the Chaplain would understand, after all he had seen combat, he knew how it was or at least he thought he would. 

No one could understand he guessed which didn’t anger him, but instead it made him feel sad. All that he had learned at his father’s knees, all that he had heard about from those who should know, and yet the base Chaplain didn’t know? It just didn’t seem right that in his hour of need, he was to be denied but then he did realize that God might just be testing him further, so he leaned back against the cold steel bars, thinking about all that had happened.

Maybe if he reached out for those who had guided him, maybe they would understand and come to his aid? That was a thought but how could he reach such men? His father was dead of course, and while he may be looking down with pride at his son there just wasn’t much he could do down here on earth. He knew his older brother Andrew was in no condition to render assistance; besides, he had succumbed to the evil himself, and was now paying for that transgression with his very life. No, Andrew was not a source of help and with that, his thoughts turned once more to the men who had inspired him.

Looking down at his lap, his hands resting on the soft leather cover of the book, he felt easier in his spirit as his mind continued to try to figure out a way to contact the great men that he just knew would understand what had driven him, what had made him do what he did. He could feel the power coming from the book, a concession by the police or so the Chaplain had said, but that couldn’t be right. Why would the police deny him the comfort of his Lord’s words? 

There was so much that he really didn’t understand even though he was 20 years old and had a keen mind. He had been able to pick up many of the medical techniques at first read or lesson and he was adept at many minor medical procedures. He just knew in his heart that he was going to make a great Medic for the Marine Corps, at least he thought so but his superiors seemed to be hesitant. Even his volunteer work with the misguided ones who were paying dearly with their lives wasn’t enough to convince his superiors to transfer him to a combat unit. Instead attending to sniveling cowards who didn’t deserve the title of U.S. Marine was wasting his talents. 

The last straw was when they had taken that obvious pansy Cranbrook over him and send him out on active service with the Marines assigned to the U.S.S. Coral Sea. It just wasn’t fair that some freaking fairy was given a job that he was better qualified to fill. The anger rose once more in his soul as his hand wrapped tightly around the Gideon Bible that lay in his lap. There had to be some justice in this world, someone had to listen to God’s words and stop all this, but his complaints had fallen on deaf ears as usual.

He tried to calm himself but he could feel the rage building once more inside of him as he heard the words of his idols. Jerry Hartwell had spoken at a local crusade just a few miles from where he sat now, and he had attended all three days of the event, listening and marveling at the man’s grasp and closeness to God. It was what he had always wanted, to be close to his maker, and by listening to one who he knew was close to God, he thought he could learn how he too could be such a person.

It was an awe inspiring three days for him, three days that changed his whole perspective on life and on his own mission in life. The music and the prayers were heart warming and he wished he could have his own bible, the one he had purchased at the crusade, the one that was personally inscribed to him, and it only cost him an extra $50 for that, but it was worth it. After all, the money all went to do God’s many works and he was a part of that, just by handing over some soiled paper. 

There were so many things he had hoped to do in those three glorious days, but his money had run out faster than he had expected. Everything he wanted was so expensive, but at least he had that bible back in his quarters. Maybe the Chaplain could get him permission to have it while he was in jail? That was something he should try to remember, for when the Chaplain came again. It wasn’t the Reverend Hartwell’s fault either, it was the Jews who controlled everything that made it cost so much, and his only regret was that he didn’t earn enough to help the Reverend more.

Sitting in the cold cell he wondered if there was a way he could reach the Reverend? He was still in town; his crusade was resting here for a whole week before moving on up the coast towards Portland and Seattle so maybe a message could get through to him. He knew he could trust the Reverend to give him the guidance he needed now. His public defender wasn’t inspiring, besides he was a Jew and he doubted if the guy would do much more than stand there looking solemn. Mind you, the Chaplain did say that the military would provide him with a lawyer, but given all the liberals that had taken over, he doubted if there were any decent lawyers who could understand that he had to do what he did, that it was part of his mission in life.

His thoughts turned towards that night once more and he grew more calm as he leaned against the wall, the vision and smells even were still fresh in his mind as he could feel the crunch as his boots hit the face of one of those fags, and he could smell the blood too, and he felt his body shaking in excitement once more, just as it did that night and he knew that he was erect and his hand touched himself there, feeling the thick power that was sticking up against the thin orange jumpsuit that he was being forced to wear. It felt good feeling his power, and he smiled now as he thought more about how it felt when his feet continued to crash down into the surprised face of his victim. 

Adam’s eyes glowed as he saw it all before him once more. He had come face to face with evil and just as the sage Reverend Hartwell had said, evil feared the righteous and he could see that fear once more in the young face that looked up at him, and he felt the exultation of the moment as he continued to stomp out the evil, doing God’s work and his heart grew excited along with the rest of his body as the scene continued to play before him.

Part 2

He scanned the morning papers quickly, his blue eyes sparkling as he read about the capture of Adam Westbrook and his mind was whirling even faster now as he saw his plan beginning to take shape. It was a perfect situation, one that he knew he could exploit for months, if not a whole year if he was lucky and that meant increased revenues for him. It wasn’t that he needed more money either, but he didn’t like the slow down in donations and even the last three days hadn’t been as lucrative as he had hoped.

The week break wasn’t because he was tired either; it was just that sales in some of the smaller areas had been too low for him to warrant going there. He had used the excuse that the venues had demanded too high a price, and with a neat twist of words he had managed to convince the small band of faithful that it would be better for them to come to Portland. He even had arranged buses and hotel accommodation for those willing to make the journey, another neat twist to reap more of their hard earned money, and it worked too. He had 5 buses booked from one, 3 from another and so he had extended his days in Portland from 2 to 4 now and if it held up, he would at least reach his targeted goals.

A thin smile crossed his face as he sipped at the special brewed coffee. Everything was starting to once more go his way and he was certain that his plan would not only reap huge financial benefits for him and his ministry, but it would insure the continuation of his leadership as the premier evangelist in the nation. Leaders would take more notice of him and he would have even greater access to those in power and that in itself was something that made him excited, almost physically arousing even as he contemplated how he would use his power. 

He glanced down at the expensive Rolex watch on his wrist, a gift from his ministry for services rendered, which also made him smile, considering that it was his brother who was the treasurer of the ministry and president of his board of directors. It was a neat set up actually, one he had to admire, and one that he owed to the gifted genius of his conniving accountant. Jerry Hartwell didn’t really like his accountant much, hell they both hated each other but the damn Jew liked the money he was paid and so he did his best to keep the Hartwell Ministry lucrative and prosperous.

His smile grew wider as he thought about his accountant and the way he had used every possible loophole in the volumous tax code to keep every single penny possible out of reach of the government. Trust a Jew to figure out how to turn a $40 million mansion into a tax write off. God it was priceless to use that sharp brain for his purposes, but then that was how it was supposed to be. After all, he was doing God’s work and it was fitting that he should make those who had abused God’s love to help rectify that problem.

There was so much wrong in the world today, and he was certain that the world was heading towards Armageddon as prophesied and he would be at the forefront, urging the righteous on and leading the faithful to the true Promised Land. It was his destiny and he wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way. Least that was how he said it to those who lined up to hear him preach the gospel. If they only knew the truth about it all, but then only a handful knew that part of him, and that was how he intended to keep it. He had a good thing going and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let truth or justice stand in his way.

John Childs stared across the large penthouse suite to see his leader eating his morning repast. He marveled at how much the man could pack away and still maintain a rather youthful and sturdy body. Reverend Jerry Hartwell stood 6 foot and weighed a solid 174 pounds of muscle and bone. He doubted if there was any fat on the man’s body and he was a commanding figure when he wanted to be. Hell, even sitting at the ornate table in the dining area, clad in a bathrobe he exuded charisma but then, that was what made him so successful. Even the television screen seemed to capture it to a degree, which was why he headed a $135 million a year grossing organization.

He shook his head, as he set out the various folders on the antique coffee table in the main sitting room of the penthouse suite of the Hilton. Nothing but the best was Hartwell’s motto and that did extend to him, John Childs, Chief advisor and confidante of the exulted Reverend. He wasn’t all to comfortable with some of the speeches or sermons that Hartwell made, in some cases they troubled him a lot but that big pay cheque every month was something you didn’t toss away lightly. He was concerned that his friend and employer was going to far lately, but then the revenues were down for the first time in their 11 year history and so maybe it was what was needed to get that boost, to bring back the flock as Jerry said. He hoped that was all it was, because he really didn’t like the way things were going.

He placed the red folder down and his hand shook a little as he recalled what it contained. Looking at his own Rolex watch, he saw that time was moving ahead and he had better get the briefing started before the great Samuel Zachariah Smith arrived. God, he hated the man, the way he strode around as if he was some blasted knight from King Arthur’s time. He even spoke in that same archaic manner, talking about riding the steed of the righteous, battling the evil forces of the dark one and all that other mystical hobbly goob. It may make for good sound bites, but in private it just was too nauseating.

Childs “I think we should get started, Brother Smith is due shortly.”

Reverend Hartwell turned from the stock page and glanced over towards his chief advisor, Deacon Childs. He smiled at him, knowing that inside of that rather ordinary face was a man dedicated to him and to his goals. It was a comforting thought to know that his inner circle, though small, was absolute in their resolve to further his aims and goals. It helped him when he had the odd doubt but that was less frequent these days. He was more determined than ever to succeed and the news of the gay bashing had broke upon him like a revelation. It couldn’t have come at a better time for him either. It was exactly what his ailing ministry needed for a jump-start.

Hartwell “That time already is it? Fine, did you grab some coffee John? Its very good this morning.”

Childs “Yes, I did, thanks, you sound chipper.”

Hartwell “The police caught our boy it seems, so yes, it is so much easier when you have the man that you are about to turn into a martyr for the cause in custody, makes it easier.”

Childs “Yes, I saw that, but, well, are you sure of this Jerry? I mean there are enormous risks here, it could backfire.”

Reverend Hartwell stood up and reached for the pants that his bodyguard handed to him. He tossed the robe off, showing that he was clad in only a pair of fine silk boxer shorts and yet he didn’t even seem bothered that he was dressing in front of several men. There were his two bodyguards and John Childs. He quickly slipped the fashionably styled pants on and as he zipped them up, he checked to make sure the crease was exact. 

Hartwell “I suppose it could, but we won’t let that happen now will we?”

His smile was amazing, even after all those years together John Childs was still held captive by that smile and that soothing voice that Jerry Hartwell could summon at will. Make no mistake though, the man had a heart of pure steel when needed and when it came to furthering his organization, there just wasn’t any room for sympathy or weakness. The man became ruthless, but that too was attractive and it did make him smile in turn.

Childs “No, no we won’t let that happen, still I wish there was another way Jerry, I have a bad feeling about this.”

Hartwell “Yes, well your sensibilities are noted my friend, but we can’t let that stand in our way, this is our chance my friend, this is how we can achieve our goal in one swell swoop.”

Childs “Yes, it does seem like it was heaven sent, doesn’t it?”

Hartwell “Haha, yes it does, and the numbers, did you manage to get them for me?”

Childs “Yes, and you were right, as usual. They show that viewers contributed more when you were attacking the evil of the Jews and the lifestyles of the gays, still, there was also a drop in viewers a little as well.”

Hartwell “Oh? A drop in numbers but an increase in donations?”

Childs “Appears so, yes.”

Hartwell “So, we might offend some to the point that they withdraw their viewer ship but those who we retain dig deeper? That is interesting, and it shows, we are on the right path then.”

Childs “I suppose, but don’t you risk losing your wide base if you continue? Maybe the money grows, but it won’t help you in influencing those who you want to influence, they are more concerned with votes and how many you could deliver”

Hartwell “Yes, to a point, but they also need the money, I think we can negate any downside of numbers with an increase in monetary compensation, and that can buy them more votes, so no, I think for now we will proceed as planned.”

Childs “As you wish, but doesn’t the risk scare you? I mean, Jerry, two guys were so brutally attacked, one is dead, the other might as well be, doesn’t it scare you any that you might be encouraging more of that to happen?”

Hartwell “Encourage? No, I don’t believe my words can be mistaken in that way, and if they are, so what? Just who is going to take anything they say seriously? Remember, we do have the 1st amendment, not to mention the fundamental right of religious leaders to speak the gospel, and the gospel is far more fiery than anything I have said or will say, so no I doubt we need have any worries there.”

Childs “Still, what happens if more Westbrook’s happen? That could have a damaging effect we might not be able to recover from.”

Hartwell “Well, I suppose if we were to simply sit by and not say anything, however I think we can sufficiently cover ourselves so that not only would more of these attacks happen, but that we would gain from it.”

Childs “Are you saying you want more incidents like this? My God, Jerry do you know what you are saying?”

Hartwell “Of course I do, but think about it man, think of all the news programs that will highlight us, that will seek us out and all that exposure will be free air time, time we can use to secure even more members to our cause, and you know what that means.”

Childs “But, Jerry, innocent people may die, hell one already has, how can you just sit here and actually hope that more will die, and worse, that you will help further that?”

Hartwell “Well for starters John, no innocents have died, only misguided souls who took the wrong path, and God’s judgment on them has been harsh maybe, but I am not going to question his wisdom, I wouldn’t dare. As for promoting more attacks, no, but I would be remiss in my duty to all the work we have done if I ignored this opportunity to point out just how evil and unnatural these misguided people are. If that leads to some poor soul taking it a step further, well I can only pray for his soul and God’s understanding, but as for those who suffer that fate, it is really no fault of mine. I didn’t tell them to turn their backs on God’s laws, it was their own choice.”

Childs “Jerry, there are many who disagree with you on this, hell even the organized groups are more tolerant now, many even accepting that it might even be a part of God’s plan, what happens when they rally against you?”

Hartwell “I don’t think they will, oh maybe some priest somewhere might, maybe even some higher official, but none of them have the guts to come out and attack me, come on John, I have enough power now to know that is true, and once this takes off, why they wouldn’t dare cross swords with me.”

Childs “That’s taking a hell of a lot for granted Jerry, I don’t know if I would want to risk all this on such assumptions. After all, some people aren’t swayed by money or power, some actually do have real convictions, real principles.”

Hartwell “Oh yes that is true my friend, only trouble is that they generally aren’t found in any place or position where they can do anything about it. We have the power of our ministry to reach many, and the money in our bank account to reach others, so don’t fret, this is going to be our finest hours yet, trust me, I haven’t failed yet have I?”

Childs “No, that you haven’t, and you do seem to know just what to say to people, and I suppose you are right too in that people may only pay lip service to human rights, but still, do we really need to have someone like Smith aboard? Can’t you find someone a little less flamboyant?”

Hartwell “haha, he really does get under your skin doesn’t he?”

Childs “Yes, he is so phony, no one is that committed, and his sickening homilies, I can’t stand them.”

Hartwell “Yes, he does overdo that shit, but it is who he is. I think he keeps that pretence up in private so as to insure he never slips up in public, and that’s a shrewd mind at work, one I want and need on our side, at least for this exercise, so…”

Child “So, shut up and let it go, right? Haha, yeah I guess you are right, still, I wish we could get someone else for this.”

Hartwell “I know, but he’s the best one for this particular mission, and we do want the best, don’t we?”

John Childs saw that smile grow again and he knew exactly what his friend meant. It wasn’t so much that they liked or even respected Brother Smith, it was that he was the best at what they wanted done and it would lead to them getting more of what they wanted, which was bigger paycheques and more power in the real world of life. Yes, he could see the double meanings in his friend’s words and he smiled back, showing he was in tune with all that was happening.

Part 3

Bruce sat in the comfortable easy chair in his bedroom, staring at the sleeping blond stretched out under the covers. He could see the eyes shut tight and could only imagine all that was going on in his brain while his body slept and kept him safe from anymore wild thoughts. He looked so peaceful, lying there under the sheets, his body at rest and yet Bruce knew that inside was a raging battle between need and desire. He could almost understand it, the way some people got so close to others, that when one became separated, a profound loss seemed to just overwhelm them. 

He should have seen it coming and he leaned forward, resting his head on his hands as he stared at the sleeping young man. He was the doctor, it was a classic case too and yet he had missed all the signs and only through the good fortune of a friend waking in time did he not have another loss on his record. Maybe he was being too cold, too calculating but Bruce Collier hated losing in his battles with the grim reaper, and yet while he knew he would win his share, he still hated losing even one, let alone a second out of his own lack of sensitivity.

It rankled with him even though he could make the case that it wasn’t his fault at all. Maybe before the other night it would be exactly how he would deal with this, but that was then, not now. Now, he knew he had to step up, to take full responsibility for his own actions, right or wrong and that scared him a little, but he knew that he had no other choice anymore. It was time for him to stop hiding behind medicine and also, to stop hiding behind Connor.

The touch on his shoulder startled him for an instant and he lifted his head up to stare into Connor’s face. He saw the deep worry lines around his forehead and worse, the deep concern that were blazing from his eyes. He knew that Connor was taking this bad too, and for all the times that Connor had supported him, had eased his suffering and self quilt, now it was his time to repay him.

Connor “Here, I made some tea.”

Connor smiled slowly as he handed over the steaming cup of tea. He had made it without even thinking but now as he saw his lover’s face, the strain of the last few days was weighing heavy on his heart. He could see that Bruce was struggling with it all as well and after Bruce took the cup, he started to move towards the back, to gently massage the knotted muscles of his lover and his friend too.

Bruce took the cup and as he balanced it on his knee he reached back to grasp at Connor’s arm before he could step away. He gripped the arm tightly, making Connor stop and stare back down into his face.

Bruce “Connor, you okay?”

Connor “Yeah, tired I guess, it has been a rather long night and day I guess, but don’t worry about me, how you holding up?”

Connor moved away and with Bruce’s hand still holding onto his, he maneuvered himself around to stand behind his lover and he started to gently rub the shoulders, feeling the tightness around the neck and he knew that Bruce was taking all of this hard.

Bruce “Tired too, the surgery took so long, and then this, DAMN IT! I should have seen this coming Connor, I really should have.”

Connor “Come on Bruce, you aren’t superman, you can’t solve everyone’s problems or read everyone’s mind, this isn’t your fault, there is nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

Bruce “No, no that isn’t right Connor, I should have seen the signs, god damn it, I should have, it is what I was trained for.”

Connor “So was I and I missed it, come on, you can’t be everywhere, you were concentrating on his friend, that took precedence, right?”

Bruce could feel the strong fingers working his muscles and soothing his tight neck. It felt so good to lean back and feel Connor’s hands working the kinks out of him. He smiled a little and sipped at the hot tea, made just the way he liked with sugar and cream. It felt good too as he continued to stare at Ashley, to watch the thin sheet rise and fall with each even breath that the boy took.

Bruce “I suppose you are right, but still, it just doesn’t seem right Connor, what did either of them do to deserve all this?”

Connor “Is there supposed to be a reason Bruce? I don’t know, I don’t have the answers, I wish I did but you have done more than your share.”

Bruce “So have you, how did it go last night?”

Connor stopped for a second, the mention of last night bringing back the memories of the fiery meeting with the Chief and worse, with that prick Nick Stephens. Christ he wanted to just haul off and drive his fist straight through his smiling fucking face. Only the restraint of Parker, his partner, and the Commander as well saved Nick from feeling that, yet he wished they hadn’t stopped him.

Connor “Okay, a lot of yelling and a lot of swearing. I am on administrative leave pending further notice by the way.”

Bruce “What? Why? You didn’t do anything wrong, why the fuck are they taking you off the street?”

Connor “Whoa, slow down there, its routine, besides they did it to all of us, Parker as well and yeah, those two. We have to give statements and I guess there is going to be some criminal trial too, least the Chief seemed to be talking that way.”

Connor once more began to rub the back of his lover, his hand slowly moving in a wide sweeping circle as he tried to loosen up the bunched muscles around the shoulder blades. He could feel Bruce’s anger and he had to admit, it felt good to see Bruce angry like this. In the past, he would be making excuses for the department, trying to calm him down but now the roles had become reversed. For whatever reason, the events that were happening had awakened something deep in Bruce and at the same time, had clamed the wild beast that had almost consumed him.

While his hands moved slowly across the bare skin, he could feel the ever-widening range of emotions that seemed to be flowing through Bruce’s body. IT was funny really, also a bit freaky too when you considered that they had been together for some time and yet it was only now that they seemed to be able to really communicate with each other. He couldn’t explain it, but it was like he knew that Bruce needed a cup of tea and also to be alone to stare at Ashley. He never had that type of sense before, and it was a bit overwhelming actually but also very exhilarating too.

Bruce “Fuck, there damn well should be, those two cost one young man his life, and most likely the second as well, and if not for you this morning, a third as well. Shit, I hope they throw the damn book at those two ignorant pricks…”

Connor “Hey, Sam isn’t all that bad Bruce, he’s young and didn’t know any better, he was merely following orders of his superior, you can’t really blame him for that.”

Bruce “Like hell I can’t, shit I heard that excuse too many times, only following order, fuck that’s what the god damn Nazi’s said as an excuse for gassing all those Jews, no fucking way should he get off for that lame ass reason.”

Connor “Okay, calm down, you’ll wake the kid up”

Bruce leaned back in the chair and lifted his head up to see the top of Connors head. He could see the wavy locks of hair and even the pale skin of his forehead and he smiled, knowing that Connor was right, that he was getting himself all steamed up. He even felt a small chuckle around his mouth as he realized that normally those where his lines, not Connors. God, how so much had changed in such a short time.

Bruce “Sorry, so, you get to stay home?”

Connor “I wish, but no, I have to go see some jerk ass assistant DA later tomorrow, something about a deposition or something…”

Bruce “really? Wow, that’s rather fast, uh, you got a lawyer from the union to go with you?”

Connor “not yet, supposed to call one later this afternoon.”

Bruce “Good, you don’t want to go making any statements without one, not in this damn town, bet they try to nail you too, simply because…”

Connor “Cool it Bruce, I know the drill, remember? This is me, the hot head, I know the damn drill”

Bruce “Sorry, guess you do huh? Haha, well what can I say, I guess, well, I guess I am just coming out of my shell, it is all kind of new to me too”

Connor “Yeah? Shit, I’d never have guessed that”

Bruce “Okay, fuck off and rub a bit lower, come on, lower, okay, to the right now, oh yeah, now that feels good, I could stay like this all day”

Connor “Yeah? Fuck that shit buddy, you get ten more minutes, that’s it”

Bruce “Ten? Come on, make it 15 and I’ll give you one right after…okay?”

Connor “Shit, I don’t know, last time I let you try, you almost broke my poor back into two, thought you doctors were supposed to know how to give back rubs? Haha”

Bruce “Haha, no we leave that for the nurses to handle, say did you notice that new male nurse in emergency when we came in last night? God, he’s a looker”

Connor slapped Bruce’s shoulder as he listened to him describe the new male nurse in emergency. He smiled a little as it felt like he was finally at home; that at last he was where he was supposed to be and that it was all he had hoped for. To stand here, rubbing the naked back of his lover, talking about their days, their problems at work, and still have the need to check out guys. This was definitely what he had been searching for and it was strange, a seemingly horrific act had been committed against two innocent young men, but out of that he had found his niche in life, had found his perfect mate and that was a good thing. How could that be?

Connor “Yeah I noticed, and I am having second thoughts about you working the ER so often too, haha… but yeah, he is hot”

Bruce “Really? I mean you really worry about me working the ER?”

Connor “Yeah, actually, I guess I do worry about that, not that you’ll do something like chase the new male nurses around, but that some creep high on drugs will burst in and hurt you, or some gang banger come in to finish off someone, yeah I guess I do worry about you working that place.”

Bruce “Fuck, you never said anything before? Why now?”

Connor “I don’t know, I guess maybe you aren’t the only one who suddenly woke up, as you put it, maybe I did too, in some small way”

Bruce reached back and he put his hand on Connors, and then he leaned back to stare up fully into Connor’s face. Connor had leaned forward and their eyes met and Bruce could feel the desire coming from Connor, but he could also feel the love that Connor had for him and he knew that with each passing second that love was growing stronger and more impenetrable.

They looked long into each other’s eyes and Bruce leaned back as far as was humanly possible and Connor leaned forward, his hands now resting firmly on Bruce’s shoulders and he brought his face down and their lips touched lightly. It was enough for both of them and it felt like sparks had suddenly flew between them and in that instant Bruce felt the hormones inside of him racing and his body reacting so fast it was like they were engaged in a wild passionate embrace instead of just a light touching of lips.

Bruce “CHRIST, Sorry, it is just, “

Connor “Yeah, I know, me too, Bruce, I know this isn’t the time, but, uh well,”

Bruce “No, never say that again Connor, there is always going to be time for us, there has to be, we can’t give in to all that goes on around us, please…”

Connor “Yeah, but we can’t ignore it either, there is so much I want to say, to do, and yet…”

Bruce “Yeah, I know, I feel that way too.”

Connor moved around from behind Bruce and he almost tripped over the teacup that was by Bruce’s feet, which brought a smile to Bruce’s face. Connor smiled back as he saw Bruce open his arms to let Connor come inside and sit on his lap. Connor felt a gentle warmth creeping through his body as he wiggled his taller frame onto Bruce’s. It felt so nice to feel the warmth of his lover as he leaned into his shoulder and turned to face the man who had stolen his heart a long time ago, and was only now realizing it.

Connor “Bruce, I know we, I mean…”

Bruce “Yeah, but that was then, for my part I am sorry Connor, I mean…”

Connor “Sssh, let’s not get into any of that, I love you Bruce”

Bruce smiled at Connor and he felt the rising fires inside of him as he heard the words echo deep inside. Yes, Connor loved him and it was something very special, something he never really understood until now and he brought one hand up from behind Connor to run it down the side of his face, his other hand resting lightly on the pulsing organ between Connor’s legs. 

Connor felt the hand resting on his groin and he felt the fires burning inside of him as his whole body suddenly rocked to an amazing tremor that just flashed thru his entire frame. He couldn’t explain the sudden impulse that was flowing through his veins as his heart suddenly began to race and his breath became short and shallow as he leaned inwards, letting Bruce’s hand move slowly around the back of his neck.

The two pairs of lips touched lightly at first, the sparks seeming to just come from out of nowhere as they touched and held each other. Bruce’s hand jerked a little in a spasm and in a second his lips had parted and he felt the rough texture of Connor’s tongue as it darted inwards to taste him, to lick at his insides and he groaned a little, feeling a heavy ache in his own groin.

Connor couldn’t believe all the wild thoughts that suddenly passed through his body as he kissed and drank deeply from Bruce’s mouth. His hands reached around to hold tightly the young doctor and he felt the man’s pain and despair simply vanish as his own love reached out to hold onto Bruce’s suddenly shaking body. He didn’t realize it, but his own body was trembling as well as he felt the warmth filling his soul and his tongue curled and struck deep down towards the back of Bruce’s mouth.

It was like they were suddenly bound together, their bodies twisted and snaked together in a strange pattern of arms and legs and torso’s. There was something mystical even as he could hear the gentle sounds of water lapping on a shoreline, and his eyes watered as if he was suddenly staring up at a bright golden sun but he wasn’t, he was resting in the arms of his lover, the one he had always been searching for. The wild passion inside of him was growing and he could feel the slow steady drip of his pre cum as he kissed harder, his lips crushing into Bruce’s but he knew that there was much more to come between them as they sat there, taking what time they could before having to return to the real world.

Bruce felt like his whole body was afire. There wasn’t a single place inside of him that didn’t feel like it was burning with the desire to have Connor and yet he also knew that this wasn’t the time for that, but that it would come in time. He couldn’t believe how wild his desires were and all he could think of for the moment was how lucky he was to have such a man in his life and that only made the fires rage more and he sighed deeply as he felt Connor’s tongue start to snake back out, his own tongue following it, licking at the raspy tip of Connor’s and his heart pounded and his pulse raced as his body felt the fires inside of Connor as well as his own.

They broke apart as the sound of stirring came from their own bed and both heads turned to see the tall young blond boy moving under the sheets. They could hear the soft whimpering sounds that came from him and they held each other tightly, both of them knowing that their guest was slowly returning back to them and to the terrible reality of the world.

Connor felt Bruce’s arms tighten even harder around him and he noticed that his one arms were taut and that each muscle inside of him was now coiled. He felt the small tremor inside of his lover and turned his head back to stare into Bruce’s aqua coloured eyes. As he gazed with nothing but love into those sparkling eyes he felt the despair rising up in his lover and without thinking, he bent down and kissed Bruce once more lightly on the lips. His other hand gently caressing the strong upper arm and as he leaned back, he saw the smile cross Bruce’s face and his heart felt a bit easier now.

Bruce “I don’t know what I would do without you Connor, God I love you so much…”

Connor “I know, I can feel it Bruce, but we are together, and we’ll get through this, I just know we will.”

Bruce “Yes, I know, it doesn’t really make it any easier though… it is times like this when I really hate being a doctor Connor.”

Connor “Yes, I know, but it is out of your hands, you have done everything you could, he’ll understand that…”

Bruce “I don’t know, I suppose, but will he understand Paul’s decision too?”

Connor “I don’t know, maybe not at first, but hopefully he will once it all wears off a little, he’s so young and yet at times, I don’t know, he has something about him…”

Bruce “Yeah, I think I, shit Connor, how am I going to tell him?”

Ashley “Tell me what?”

Both heads turned to see the disheveled face peering up at them from the bed. His eyes looked dull and lifeless as he propped himself up on his elbows. He was blinking trying to figure out where he was and what the two men sitting in the chair were talking about. His heart felt heavy and he had a throbbing headache as well. He knew he was alive, and the wave of sadness came flooding thru his whole body as he leaned back into the bed. His arms no longer able to support his weakened body and the tears began to flow once more down his cheeks. He wanted to be with Terry, but he couldn’t even do that and the pain tore into his heart and ripped into his soul as he struggled to make sense of it all once more, knowing the truth even though it hadn’t yet been spoken.

Part 4

The tears had long since dried up, his body just couldn’t produce anymore and no amount of reason seemed to make any difference. The pain inside of him was unbearable as he stared out at the glittering waters of the lagoon. He had made his choice, it had taken him most of the early morning but he had finally made that call to Doctor Collier and he could hear his words even now, hours later, echoing inside of his empty skull.

Even his friend ‘Pledge’ seemed to have left him alone but as he stared at the gentle rippling waters of the lagoon he could see the constant turmoil not far off the horizon. The sky had burned a bright orange in the morning’s sun, a beautiful sight for most people, for the sailor it meant a storm brewing and he knew where that storm was coming from.

He could see Ashley’s face even now, the haunting look in his eyes as they had spoken earlier in the night just passed. He could see his anger too and he knew that it would be nothing to what he would feel once he got the news about this morning. Maybe that was one reason that right after his conversation with Dr. Collier he had tossed his phone as far as he could out to sea. Maybe, maybe it was just that once more he was hiding out; once more he was letting someone else take the rap for him, just as he had done all of his life.

Paul had wept all morning for his younger brother, the tears had been enough to fill the entire ocean or so it had felt, and yet now he had none left to shed. His heart knew that what he had done was right but knowing that didn’t make it any easier to accept. He loved Terry, and yet no one would believe that, not now and yet it was God’s truth, he did love his brother. 

Ashley could hate him, he could accept that and yet he knew that the pain and anger that Ashley would feel towards him was nothing to how much he hated himself, how much he despised himself. For a fleeting second he had thought about picking himself up off the fan tail and going back to the apartment, to be the one to tell Ashley what had happened, to break it to him as he should, but he just didn’t have that kind of courage and so he sat here, knowing that Bruce Collier, a stranger, was taking his place and telling Ashley.

It wasn’t right, it should be him standing in front of his brother’s lover, telling him the truth, explaining as best as he could why he had made the decision he had but just as it was so many years ago, he stood idly by and was letting someone else bear the brunt of his actions. Looking out at the calm waters he wondered what it would be like to simply just let himself slip off the iron grate and sink down into the warm waters beneath him?

He was glad that Terry had at least found someone for whatever brief time it was that he and Ashley had together, after all that Terry had done and gone through, it was good that he had that brief interlude, that brief chance at happiness and the anger started to grow inside of him as he thought about the two men who had taken all that away from his brother. He could feel the hatred inside of him as he thought about them, wishing that they would both suffer a long slow cruel fate worse than death even though he knew that one was already dead. 

It didn’t change his thoughts, and some of that hatred began to turn towards himself as well as he watched the small ripples of water lapping up under his feet. It would be so easy to just let himself slip off and become a part of the ocean, to end his own misery and pain but something held him back. He didn’t know what it was either and his anger was seething, unable to settle on something that it could direct itself to.

Images of Terry kept his heart pounding, kept his eyes downcast and his breathing laboured and painful. He loved him, he knew that and yet he had never really told him that, never really simply just came out and said “I LOVE YOU” and now it was too late, it was all too late, so why shouldn’t he just say goodbye as well? What good was he if he couldn’t even defend his own brother? 

The tears were dry; the wet liquid no longer able to break through the harsh curtain of hatred and anger that was slowly cloaking Paul as he sat on the fantail of his boat. His heart was in pieces and this time, there was no Terry to help piece it together again. Despite the long absence, the almost decade of silence between then Paul had always been able to retreat into that special place where he could find Terry waiting, but no more, it too was gone and all he could see was an empty beach, the trees bending in all directions as if they too were searching for the missing figure that used to play with such wild abandon on the golden grains of sand. Nothing was there but an empty cold wind that blew through his heart, scattering the pieces in all directions as the enormity of his decision filled him once more.

Rob didn’t know why he was here, it was almost as if some unseen force had made him finally put down his cell phone and begin his journey to this place. The sound of an ocean breaking on a coral reef kept breaking into his thoughts as he took the long journey to this place and here he stood now, unsure what he was going to say or do, but deep inside he knew that he had to do this, had to be here.

A small man stood at the gate, his face old and tired looking and yet the eyes held Rob’s attention. He had never seen such fire in any person’s face before and it had attracted him so that he slowly began to make his way over to the stooped figure by the iron gate. From a distance the man looked like he had to be at least 90 and yet those eyes just seemed to be reaching out towards him. It scared him a little as he grew closer and the old lined face suddenly seemed to come alive as Rob came closer to him.

His gait was slow and shaky at best as fear seemed to be taking hold of him as he came closer to the old man at the gate. He couldn’t explain it but he was afraid to stare at the old man, and yet his eyes were being drawn to him, as if by some invisible force was at work and the pain inside of him was making his tears well up, a constant battle being waged between his will to keep control and the need to unleash his sorrow. It all broke upon his tortured heart and yet he couldn’t stop from stealing glances of the old man as he came closer.

Finally he stood in front of the old man and he watched in awe as the stooped figure slowly began to straighten up. The terror in his heart suddenly vanished as the old man grew taller and stood now erect before Rob. His eyes still sparkled and flashed but the lines around his face grew softer too and he saw a strange glow reaching out for him. It made him take one step back and then his feet just wouldn’t move anymore. He felt like he was glued to the spot as the strange glow came thru him and then wrapped itself all around him.

The ache in his soul was suddenly stilled and Rob could feel his resolve growing, his strength returning and the pain of the night was no longer upon him. He looked into the face for the first time and he could sense a strange love caressing him. He felt the soft touch of a hand against the back of his head and he could feel the warmth filling him as it caressed his head, gently patting him as it felt the strands of hair pass through his fingers. Rob’s face seemed to be bathed in a soft golden glowing light and the warmth filled his soul and eased his heart and the fear no longer had him under its control as he just looked into the man’s face.

Rob “Uh, excuse me, uh, but I am looking for Paul Jamison, he’s supposed to have a boat moored here, uh, do you know if…”

Old Man “Yes, Paul is here, down there, he is going to need you I think.”

Rob “Huh? Me? Uh, I don’t know what you mean… why would he need me?”

Old Man “It is a terrible thing, all that has happened, isn’t it?”

Rob “Yes, it is, uh, he told you about it did he? You know him well?”

Old Man “Haha, oh yes I know him very well, as any father knows a son, I know him”

Rob “Huh? I thought his father, I mean…”

Old Man “Do you believe in God young man?”

Rob “Uh, well, I guess I do, I don’t know, at times, I mean…”

Old Man “Yes, funny isn’t it, you go through life never really knowing the answer to that question, and yet all you have to do is look deep within your own heart to find that the answer is written there, plain as day really, have you looked there lately?”

Rob “Huh, I don’t follow… sorry I have a lot on my mind right now.”

Old Man “Yes I am sure you do, but there is one thing more, before you go to your friend.”

Rob “Yes? What is that?”

Old Man “Remember that God loves you Rob Mathews”

Rob stood there staring at the old man and he could feel the words pounding inside of him, as if they were missiles that exploded into a million more missiles once they had penetrated his skin. His whole body seemed to suddenly warm up and the tears he had been holding back suddenly burst outwards and Rob saw the old man reach out and wrap his arms around him and pull him in tightly.

He closed his eyes as he felt the strange flow of warmth inside of him, and more than that he could feel a calming feeling flowing into his body. His heart beat slower and was no longer rending itself into a thousand broken pieces as he felt the strength around him. He could feel the tears as they flowed unimpeded down his face and the soft old hands began to wipe them away, tear-by-tear.

Rob didn’t know how long he stood there in the arms of the old man but he could feel the pain inside of him leaving, the fear no longer holding him prisoner and finally the tears slowed and then stopped. He could feel the calm returning to him and he felt a renewed sense of resolve as he slowly opened his eyes.

He stepped back a little, teetering at the brink of the old wooden wharf. He was no longer at the gate, but was standing in front of a long old wooden sailboat. The wooden plank that was carved with the boat’s name stood out at him and he knew that this was Paul’s boat. Rob felt a strange sort of chill run up and down his spine as he blinked a few more times and looked all around. There was no one else on the long pier, and the gate up top was shut tight.

With the back of his hand, he wiped away the last of his tears, a slight tremor in his motion as if he had been dreaming or sleep walking. He couldn’t explain it and as he turned his attention towards the boat he felt the despair returning, yet even that seemed different to him as he walked slowly down the rickety wooden pier. He didn’t want to do this but something inside of him was driving him onwards and somehow, he didn’t feel so alone.

Paul didn’t hear