Briarwood

By Ritch Christopher (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Oct 20, 2005

Gay

All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now.

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"BRIARWOOD"

Copyright Ritchris, 2005

aka "Whence Cometh My Help"

Copyright Ritchris, 2002

Revised Version

A dramatic saga

by

Ritch Christopher

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BOOK THREE

"BRIARWOOD LOST"

Chapter Thirty-Four

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Roger had been in a coma for three days. His official diagnosis was deemed a subarachnoid hemorrhage. Usually when much bleeding occurs, death is eminent. But Dr. Beryl Reisman had performed a procedure called, coil embolization. During this surgery, a small tube is inserted into the affected artery and positioned near the aneurysm. Tiny metal coils are then moved through the tube into the aneurysm, relieving pressure on the aneurysm and making it less likely to rupture. This procedure is less invasive and is believed to be safer than surgical clipping, although it may not be as effective at reducing the risk of a later rupture. The most important thing was that Roger had pulled through the surgery and was alive...not awake, not lucid, but still alive.

Cliff stayed by Roger's side ever since Roger had been taken down from surgery to a recovery room, then later to a private hospital suite. Cliff had reached the peak of exhaustion and Jay and Troy were almost as worried about Cliff as they were about Roger. At least Roger's vital statistics were being monitored and were remaining in a normal range. The same could not be said about Cliff.

Priests from surrounding parishes, whom had assisted Cliff with confessions while Cliff went to New York to see Rob and Timmy were now dividing Cliff's duties at St. Genesius with all the assistance each could provide. Jay pleaded with Cliff to go home, shower, take a nap, or at least get away from the strain of seeing Roger in a comatose state. Cliff refused. Finally, Jay got Walter to persuade Cliff to leave the hospital for a while by promising he, Walter, would stay by Roger's side and would call Cliff immediately to report any change...good or bad.

Kyle called Jay to keep the two households in touch with each other. The two guys seemed closer as they both had lost their same lover, Lonnie, to AIDS just a few years before. Their second connection was that they both had been infected, but not at the same time...but in the same way, by the same person. Neither of them had ever or would've been as close to Lonnie as Roger was to Cliff, but at least they could empathize with Cliff as they each drew from his archives of emotional recall. Walter, Alex, and Ted had been more concerned over Jeff's reaction to Roger's sudden illness and thought the worst by remembering his mother's quick death when she became bed ridden.

"How long has Jeff been in his room?" Jay asked,

"Ever since the police found him, the night Roger had his stroke," Kyle replied.

"Where was he? Had he been hiding?"

"It's kinda ironic. The police found Jeff sitting, scrunched up in the gazebo by the lake, where I first met Cliff."

"And you say he hasn't eaten since?"

"Not one bite...He won't answer when Walter, Alex, or Ted call him through his locked door. God knows, they, Ryan, and I have tried every way we know to communicate with him. Walter even had his little bed buddy, Earl, come over and try to entice him to come out and all he did was yell at Earl, 'Go away! Get the fuck away from me!"

"Did you ask Walter if he reacted this way to his mother's death?"

"Yes. Walter said he moped around the house a bit, but after two or three days he began riding his bike again. Soon thereafter, he started playing baseball with his friends. But something about Roger's illness had touched him deeply inside."

"You want me to ask Cliff to come over and talk to him?" Jay asked.

"No, not right now. Cliff has his own encumbrances to contend with. There's no use in burdening him with an additional woe. I swear, Jay, I know how the kid feels. I want to lock myself away from the world...and I would if it weren't for Ryan being here with me. Goddamn! Roger is still a young man. I thought only old people had CVA's. It should've been me or you. We're the ones who are supposed to be sick, but thanks to all the things Roger did for us, you and I are almost in perfect health."

"It's funny, I said the same thing to Troy last night. It just doesn't seem fair and it certainly doesn't make sense."

"How IS Cliff?" Kyle asked.

"Either he's the strongest guy in the world or he could rival Anthony Hopkins as an actor. He's been trying to maintain his duties via telephone with the priests who have offered to help him. He's even called parishioners who can't make it to the services for various reasons. He's left Roger's side only to make his regular hospital visitations to other sick patients at Briarwood General. He's eaten only one meal at the dinner table with Troy and me just like he did when Roger was off visiting the Dalai-Lama, or whatever he's called. He spends every waking hour waiting to hear that Roger had come out of the coma and will be ready to get out of bed and become normal as ever. I suppose he got used to Roger's being gone while he was away, but damned if I could, if it were Troy."

"You DO love Troy, don't you?"

"God, Kyle, he's my life...my soul." Jay replied.

"You never felt that way about Lonnie, did you?"

"No! Did you?"

"Not really," Kyle said.

"How about you and Ryan?" Jay asked.

"We're very much in love. We're looking forward to working at the hospital once it's finished."

"Us, too."

"Do you think there will be a hold on the construction...I mean, until Roger...well, you know?"

"No, if anything, Cliff and Walter will hire additional workers to complete the hospital just as if Roger was up and around overseeing everything. That's all Roger could talk about...finishing the hospital with the best doctors, best treatments, best laboratories, compounded with an insatiable urge to find a cure for AIDS. It's his dream and you know that Cliff and Walter will break their asses, seeing everything go AHEAD of schedule. Cliff and Walter have already discussed calling it the Roger Cole Hospital."

"Not that it matters, Jay, but were any of the rumors true about how rich Roger is?"

"Did you ever ask Walter? I mean, you live with him, and Walter handled a lot of Roger's investments."

"No, I've never had the courage to ask Walter about that for fear he would remind me it was none of my business...which it's not. But I wondered anyway."

"Kyle, I don't think Roger has ever told Cliff how much he has. Roger used to joke with Cliff when Cliff was paying the utilities bills. He'd tell Cliff, 'Why don't you just buy the goddamned utility companies like you do when you're playing Monopoly?..We can afford it. I told you Cliff, we've got zillions!!!' The way Roger used his money to help us and others like us, I began to believe that he does have zillions."

"Does Cliff have Roger's power-of-attorney while he's ill?"

"I don't think so. Once he said that in the eventuality of his death, he had left a little something in his will for 'the boys'. I don't know which 'boys' he included. Troy? Me? Rob? Timmy?...I just don't know. I DO know that Roger has been paying for my and your doctors, medicines, and treatments. He paid for the lawyers and the private investigators when Troy was in trouble with Kitty. He bought this huge house and paid for the enlargement of St. Genesius. Also, his investments made Walter wealthy. Does that sound like a zillion to you?" Jay asked.

"Sounds like it, since according to Walter, everything that Roger wanted is bought and paid for!" Kyle replied. "Jay, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure...we're close. After all, we used to sleep with the same guy...only not all three of us together. What's your question?"

"God forbid he should die, but if Roger left you and Troy big bucks, would you leave Cliff's house?"

"Not in a million years."

"That's what I thought you'd say."

"I can't explain what Cliff and Roger are to Troy and me, but I know we'd never leave them...not unless they found someone in their lives to replace Troy and me...and IF they wanted us to move out...well, THEN and only THEN would the two of us consider it...What about you? Would you and Ryan move out and leave Walter?"

"We're like you...only if Walter wanted us to. He's loved and provided for Ryan and me as if we were his real sons, like Alex, Ted, and Jeff. You've heard how Ryan's folks abused him and kicked him out into the night. I've told you about my money-grabbing parents. Walter has been the only real dad that Ryan and I have ever had. Our salaries from the Center have made us financially independent. We've both offered money to Walter to pay for our guesthouse, board, and utilities, but Walter's as stubborn as Roger. He won't take a dime from either of us."

"Where or how does David fit into the picture?" Jay asked.

"David is the best thing that's happened to Walter since the day I first met him. Ryan and I can hear Walter singing in the shower all the way across the courtyard and the pool into our house. He laughs and cuts up with the four of us boys as if he were sixteen years old again. David seems just as happy since he's moved in with Walter. They're like two lovebirds. They're like Ryan and I were when we first fell in love...and Alex and Jeff? They treat him like a second father...Only now, neither David, Walter, Alex, Ted, Ryan, nor I can reach Jeff. I'm worried to death that the kid will dehydrate, starve, or something. He has a bathroom off from his bedroom, so I know he has water to drink, should he get thirsty. I think he has a small refrigerator which Walter installed to fill with snacks and fruits. I just hope he's eating something."

"Jesus! I wish I knew what to do...or at least give you an idea where to get help." Jay said.

"That's almost embarrassing. Here we are, the six of us, working at a crisis center, offering advice for all kinds of problems and we can't seem to find a solution to the biggest problem under our own roof."

"I know, the old, 'Physician, heal thyself' syndrome...then the doctor dies from a common cold because he doesn't know how to help himself."

"Jay, I want to tell you something else."

"OK."

"I'm so very glad we've mended the fences that could've separated you and me."

"You mean 'Lonnie'?"

"Yes. Sometimes when a lover leaves his lover for another, there's often bitterness on the part of the 'ex'...but since we were both 'exes'...one by separation and the other by Lonnie's passing, there was really no reason for either of us to be enemies. I'm glad we're not. Who knows? If you and I both had stayed in New York, we might have become lovers. Stranger things than death have brought two people together."

"Don't laugh, but I've wondered about 'us', too. But now, since I have Troy and you have Ryan, there's no reason why we shouldn't be best friends."

"No reason at all. I don't know whether it was because of Cliff, Walter, Roger, or what...but for whatever it was that brought you and me together, I'm grateful...and don't read too much into this, but I DO love you."

"And I love you too, you big jerk!...Now go upstairs and tell Jeff that if he doesn't come out, I'm gonna have to fix him broccoli for a month to get his metabolism working again for going on a hunger strike!"

"I wish that threat would work on him..." Kyle said, laughing a bit.

"Dear heart, call me day or night if you need me."

"I will, and tell Cliff our prayers and thoughts are with him. Kyle and I are going to stop by the hospital and give Walter a break. We'll see you at church next Sunday, if not before. Bye." Kyle said.

"Bye."

Kyle hung up the receiver and sat silently for a few minutes, wondering what he could say or do to help Jeff.

Alex had called Dr. Hughes, the man who had helped him after his suicide attempt, to see if there was any advice that he could offer. Dr. Hughes said that grief seldom affects any two people in the same way. Some get over it almost immediately, but can affect them at a later time...maybe a week, a month, or maybe years, but nearly everyone confronts it sooner or later. Many people drink, either casually or to the point of alcoholism, others take drugs...either prescribed or contraband. Some people take trips or get away from the scene of their sadness and then there are those, like Jeff, that go into seclusion. It was difficult for anyone close to Jeff, to understand why he was taking this loss so tremendously. It wasn't as if he and Roger had been THAT close. Had it been Cliff who was in a coma, Jeff's actions would've made more sense. If only Roger would recover, Jeff was bound to snap out of his depression.

Walter was almost as heartbroken over Jeff as he was at the hospital learning of Roger's aneurysm. He was going through 'marital bliss' with his new lover and Jeff's depression had hung a black cloud over the entire household. Dr. Hughes had suggested writing a prescription for Paxil, Serzone, Zoloft, or Prozac, but there was no way getting Jeff to take any of these medications without his volunteering to start the drug regimen. Most anti-depressants took at least three weeks before they went into effect. Jeff needed something that would react more swiftly on his problem. Jeff refused to talk to any of his family or friends. Walter had one last recourse but he didn't want to use it. If Jeff didn't respond voluntarily, he could have him admitted to a crisis clinic to regulate his food, water, and medicine intake. This was a drastic measure to take, but Jeff, so far, wasn't giving his father much choice.

Three days passed and there was still no change in Roger's condition nor in Jeff's and Walter's decision was made. Jeff would have to be taken from his room by force. Two police officers arrived at Walter's house in case Jeff's door had to be broken down. They were accompanied by an ambulance and a team of two paramedics and an MHT, who had a strait-jacket if it was needed. The EMS had hypos filled with thorazine to sedate Jeff should he become violent. Walter took all five of them to Jeff's bedroom and he knocked.

"Jeff?" Walter called calmly. "Baby, I know you don't want to come out, but I'm afraid if you don't, I'm going to resort to drastic measures. I have the police and the EMS out here who are going to take you to a clinic. I don't want you to be afraid and I don't want to alarm you, but I don't know what else to do. It would be better for all of us is you'd just open your door and come out peacefully. I don't want to see you hurt. You're suffering enough, emotionally, already...Will you, please?"

Everyone waited silently for two minutes. Then they heard the click coming from the door lock. Jeff came out slowly and expressionless. He looked like an Sean Penn recreating walking the final mile in 'Dead Man Walking' on his way to the gas chamber.

Alex, Ted, Kyle, and Ryan watched from far down the hall. Walter stood by the door in tears. Jeff put up no resistance as he walked past the policemen and toward the paramedics. Once he was outside, Jeff didn't want to ride in the back of the ambulance, he chose to sit up front between the driver and the other attendant.

"Son," Walter said, leaning into the cab of the ambulance, "I'll pack you a bag with some clothes, toiletries, and a few of your personal items. Alex, Ted, and I will be at the hospital shortly, as I have to sign your admittance papers. I beg you, son, please don't be angry. I'm just as hurt about doing this to you as you must feel."

Jeff paid his dad no heed. He looked at the driver and said, "Let's go."

The ambulance pulled down the drive, followed by Walter, Alex, and Ted. The police returned to the station. Ryan stood in the front doorway of the house with his arm around Kyle. When everyone was gone, Kyle told Ryan that he wanted to call Jay and let everyone at Cliff's house know what had happened.

When Jay finished getting the news, he turned and relayed everything to Troy. Cliff was in his study and overheard their conversation. Cliff, being so preoccupied with his burdens and his job duties, had somehow not known about the problem Walter was having with Jeff. He came to the door of his study and looked at Jay and Troy trying to talk in a low voice.

"What's going on?" Cliff asked.

"Sorry, Cliff," Jay said, "Jeff is ill and Walter had him sent to the hospital for observation."

"What kind of sick?" Cliff asked.

"Cliff, no one, including Walter's household or Troy and me, wanted to bother you about what was going on."

"Whatever it is, I think you should tell me." Cliff said, firmly.

"Well, all right," Jay replied.

The three of them went into Cliff's study and Jay spent the next thirty minutes filling Cliff in on all the details about Jeff. The more Cliff heard, the more his eyes welled up with tears. Cliff thought about the poor sixteen year-old kid carrying the brunt of everyone's grief about Roger's stroke. Jeff had done it alone, not wanting to upset anyone else. Cliff worried about what Roger's illness had done to Jeff's newly found faith. To Cliff's knowledge, the only other serious illness that Jeff had encountered was his mother's, so Roger's disability must have opened old scars and scabs in Jeff's memory.

When Jay finished the account, Cliff said, "I'd better get dressed and go be with Jeff and Walter at the hospital. I have to go relieve Walter anyway as I intend to spend the night next to Roger."

"Cliff, I told Ryan, when I talked to him on the phone that I wished he would ask Walter if I should tell you because I knew you would want to be there with them...and Walter said.'no'. not to tell you. So we did as he instructed us to do."

"Well, now that I DO know, I think I should go." Cliff said,

"Cliff, do you want one of us to drive you?" Troy asked.

"No, because I don't know how long I'll stay and the two of you can prepare dinner. I might return home later."

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By the time Cliff arrived at the hospital, Jeff had already been assigned a room. Two doctors had examined him, a GP and a psychiatrist. Ted was sitting alone in a waiting room while Alex was busy unpacking Jeff's things in his dresser and closet. Before going in to see Jeff, Cliff stopped by Roger's room to check on him. Walter was sitting at Roger's bedside.

"Hi, Cliff," Walter said.

"Hello, Walter. Has there been any change with Roger?"

"Some and I didn't know what to make of it."

"What do you mean?"

"About a half hour ago, Roger moved his head from side to side...only once and then he made a groaning sound. I called for the nurse immediately and she checked Roger's vital stats and they seemed normal. I told her about his head movement and the sound he'd made. I asked her if he might be in some pain. She said she doubted it, but would call Dr. Reisman and tell him about it."

"I rushed over as soon as I heard about Jeff. How is he? I wasn't aware he wasn't feeling well until I heard the news from Troy. I haven't seen him in the past few days and I assumed he was busy with his upcoming debate."

"He's tough, Cliff, you know that. He just hasn't been up to par lately and the doctors thought it best if he checked in for a few days to get his diet regulated along with his battery, spark plugs, and a general transmission tune-up," he said, winking.

"Do you think he would say 'hello' to an old friend?" Cliff asked.

"Probably." Walter became the 'concerned parent'."Honest to God, Cliff, I didn't know what else to do. I swore I wouldn't call you as I know you've been immersed in your own worries, but Jeff's been like a zombie. He won't say more than a few words. He won't eat. He shows no emotion whatsoever. Alex even tried to make him angry just to get a spark out of him...but nothing."

"You think it's because of Roger's stroke?"

"I hate to say it, but it's true. Cliff, Jeff didn't take it this hard when his mother died. I wasn't aware that he had spent a lot of time with Roger, but to react this way to his illness..."

"I don't think they spent much time together, I think it's something that goes deeper than that."

"That's what the doctors seem to think, but so far, they haven't a clue. Do you have any ideas?

"One. I think the foundation of his newly found faith has been shaken and damaged greatly. I had the same type thing happen to me, only I was much older. I was a first year student at the seminary. I was so set in my faith and was so certain of my calling, I chose St. Stephan, the martyr, as my hero. I could have been stoned as he was and I wouldn't have given up any of my beliefs. Then one priest, my philosophy teacher, started comparing Christianity to other religions and a huge black cloud of doubt came over my head. It wouldn't go away no matter how hard I prayed. I didn't know whom I was praying to. I didn't know if God was real or if He existed. I looked at the Buddhists who prayed to a huge fat statue, like Baal in our Bible. They believed in his divinity the same as I did my God. It was as if my whole life had come to a stop in the road and there was no reason to go on. My God ceased to exist and I was lost. I went into seclusion for over a month. I talked to no one...refused to eat. I did drink water to satisfy my thirst. I guess that's what saved me from dehydration. I lost twenty-five pounds during that one month."

"What did you do to turn yourself around?" Walter asked, earnestly.

"I was young and too intelligent for my own good. I told myself I was just as smart as my teacher. He was just a man with ideas, the same as I, and the ideas that I had maintained my whole life were just as good or rational as his. The Irish 'spite' came out of me and I went back to class as I was determined to prove that he was wrong. Even though he was a priest, apparently he had lost his faith, and was doing all he could to make me lose mine. He almost succeeded, but my faith turned out to be stronger than my teacher's. Walter, Jeff is going through what a lot of us do. My God, Roger had to go all the way to Nepal to find his answer. Jeff will find his way. I just want him to know that I'm here to help when and if he needs me."

"Do you mind if I ask how you're doing under all the stress and pressure?" he asked.

"I'm fine. You know, I believe that Roger's disappearance for all those weeks was a preparation for me to deal with his sudden illness. Sure, I miss talking with him, looking into his eyes for guidance and the love I feel when I'm near him. He is the other half of my being, as I am his other half. You lost your wife, but you had two young sons you had to keep living for...and you did. Roger is not dead. Becoming ill and nearing death is all a part of life. I know I almost lost him and the day may come when I WILL lose him unless he loses me first. We all have to learn to accept illness and even death, as I have lost so many close friends and parishioners. Do you think it would be all right if I tried to talk with Jeff alone?"

"There's nothing I would like better. Please, just go on in while I see if Alex wants to go get a sandwich or something. Then, I'll go sit with Roger until you're finished talking with Jeff," Walter said, gripping Cliff's hand. Then Walter pulled Cliff forward and embraced him around the neck. He kissed Cliff's cheek, broke away, and went down the hall to find Alex.

Cliff slowly opened Jeff's door. Jeff was sitting very still in bed. He paid no attention to Cliff when he entered. The TV was on but Jeff wasn't watching it. He stared blankly at the wall. Cliff walked over to his bed and sat beside him and eased his arm around Jeff's shoulder as Cliff didn't know how Jeff would respond to a physical touch. Jeff didn't move away or try to remove Cliff's arm.

"Hi, big guy." Cliff whispered to him.

Cliff was surprised when Jeff replied, "Hi, Father Cliff."

"How are you feeling?" Cliff asked.

"I don't know...how are you feeling?"

"Not so good when I'm alone, but when I have a friend beside me, I feel much better."

To that remark, Jeff didn't reply. Cliff thought he would continue talking to him in a soft manner and let him join in when and if ever he felt like it.

"I've missed seeing you at church. Jason and Tony have missed you too."

"What did you tell them about me?" he asked, not looking at Cliff.

"Nothing really. I didn't know you weren't feeling well until a couple of hours ago, when Jay told me."

"Did Jay tell you that I'd gone crazy and Dad had put me in a nut house?"

"No...is that what you think?" Cliff asked, wanting Jeff to open up and talk. "I really don't think your dad thinks you're crazy. He loves you, Jeff, just as Alex, Ted, and I do. A lot of people love you. You're very important to Roger. He's begun thinking of you as an adopted son. You have a big family of brothers who love you and are very concerned about you...Kyle, Ryan, Jay, Troy..."

"To them, I'm just a kid. They must think I'm acting awful childish." he said.

"They don't think of you as a kid any more than I do. Roger has never thought of you as a kid, either."

"Well, at least Roger doesn't have to be concerned about me now."

"No, Jeff, he doesn't, not at the present..." His mentioning Roger encouraged Cliff that Jeff might be willing to talk.

"Why did that have to happen to Roger, Father?"

"It was in God's plan for Roger, I guess, Jeff."

"I knew that's what you'd say...God wouldn't make Roger sick on purpose."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because there IS no God, that's why!"

"Jeff, Jeff, Jeff, you've been so strong the past few weeks since and before you were baptized and joined St. Genesius'."

"That's before I knew the truth."

"And what truth is that?" I asked.

"Father, when I was just a little kid, my mother got sick. I used to go to church and Sunday school with her every Sunday. Even when she was too sick to get out of bed and go with me, I went every Sunday, without her and I prayed every day and every night that she would get well and not leave Alex, Dad, and me. But she died anyway, and I asked my dad why God hadn't heard my prayers...and you know what my dad told me?"

"No, what?"

"He said that God wanted her to be with Him. What kind of God would take a mother from two little kids?"

"A God, who had a definite plan for the two little kids. He wanted the two little kids to find their own strengths and grow up faster to do the things they were meant to do."

"That's bullshit, Father, and you know it."

"Not really. If your mother were alive, do you think you'd've found St. Genesius and your avocation?"

"I don't know. I found St. Genesius, didn't I...and you and Roger. Father, the night that Roger got sick. I came to the hospital with my dad and while Alex, and all the other guys went to sleep in the waiting room, I spent the whole night on my knees, saying the rosary, begging God NOT to let Roger die!...BUT Roger might as well have died. He went into a coma and I know he's never gonna wake up! God didn't hear me when I prayed for my mom and He didn't hear me when I asked for Roger to be all right! So nothing changed."

"A lot changed. Your life has changed and millions of other lives are going to be changed because of the hospitals and centers Roger is having built right now. In my heart I know Roger is going to wake up and be normal once again. Roger is stronger than all of us combined. He'll pull through, but it's going to take YOUR faith along with mine."

"But what if he doesn't wake up?"

"Then, maybe that's God's plan to pave the way for us to see that Roger's beginnings are carried through. You remember when I told you about Moses in the Old Testament? Moses was the leader of the Jewish faith. He wandered in the wilderness for forty years, preparing the Jews to go into the Holy Land and when it came time to enter, God told Moses that he'd done all he was supposed to...that he wasn't to lead the people into the promised land, it was Joshua who was appointed to carry out that part...and so Moses died when he'd done his share of the work. Roger made the plans and provided the financial backing, but it's up to you, me, your dad, Alex, Ted, and your 'adopted' brothers to see that what Roger did, wasn't done in vain. Roger has paved the way and we'll carry out what he started. Roger was just like Moses, he's done what he's been sent here to do...and the world will be a better place because of it. But this is only the beginning. As soon as Roger recovers...he's probably dreaming of new wonderful things and miraculous ways to help people!"

Jeff still didn't look at Cliff, but Cliff felt he had reached Jeff somehow because of the tears in Jeff's lower eyelids.

"Father, I'm real sorry I haven't been to see Roger since he was admitted to the hospital here. I feel guilty."

"Jeff, Roger's room is only a couple of floors down. When and IF you feel like it, you can still visit him."

"I guess you must miss him a lot. Huh?"

"Of course I miss him, Jeff. I don't miss him not being at home. I miss him in the our mornings and nights we have together. Many couples, brothers, husbands and wives, best friends don't have as many good times as Roger and I did. I thank God for the time we had together. I don't get angry about the time we're not having at home together now. In every relationship one has to expect bad times along with the good. Roger and I have made many wonderful memories and with God's hand, we'll make many more. Sometimes I feel guilty about all the happiness Roger and I have shared. But if it's God's will that we don't have good times again, I have no regrets. I'm so grateful for the ones we've had. If I should become ill suddenly and pass away before you, I would want to leave you with nothing but good memories and you'd always have those to remember me by. Don't you remember the good times you had with your mother?"

"Yes."

Cliff could see a definite change in Jeff's mood. Cliff wanted to challenge him. Cliff hesitated at first, but he took a chance anyway.

"The night Roger collapsed, just before he became sick, he and I were talking about you."

A look of pleasant astonishment came over his face and he looked at Cliff in the eyes for the first time.

"Me?...What was he talking about?"

"He was very pleased that you had taken on the task of debating gay life with our adversaries. He wanted me to help you prepare your arguments. I told him I'd rather that you do it, but he insisted that I help you. He wanted you to stand up for what you believed in and defend us against Reverend Brindley's hypocrisy."

"He did?"

"Yep. I wouldn't lie to you about that. Of course, I wouldn't want you to, if you didn't feel like it."

"Do you think if I ate and got my strength up, I still might be able to do it?"

"That depends on you...and what your doctors say. I mean, you might not feel up to it!"

"Heck! You know I can always argue...no matter how bad I feel. Just ask Dad and Alex."

"I will talk it over with them and in turn, you dad can talk to your doctors...and we'll see."

Just then, Walter stuck his head in the door.

"Cliff, visiting hours are almost over. I just wanted you to know."

Jeff turned to look at his dad, for the first time in over a week.

"Dad, is the hospital kitchen closed?" Jeff asked.

A look or surprised relief washed over Walter's face. He looked at Jeff, then at me. His eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know, son, what would you like?"

"Anything!...Soup! Sandwich!...Do you think they have pizza?"

"Is that what you would like...a pizza?" Walter asked.

"Yeah, one of those Papa John's with all the fresh vegetables on it!" Jeff said, excited.

"If they don't have one, Alex or Ted and I will slip one in to you in about a half hour. Cliff, let me go call Dr. Hughes and get permission for you, me, Alex, and Ted to stay and have a pizza party with Jeff. Do you mind staying with him while Alex and I go get the pizza?"

"Nothing would please me more." Cliff said. "That is, if it's all right with Jeff for me to stay?"

"Father, quit acting like a little kid," Jeff said. "Go out to the nurse's desk and get some paper and a pen. We can work on my debate until Dad gets back."

Walter couldn't believe his ears. He ran over to the bed and hugged his son. To quote Hubert Humphrey, "I stood there, proud as punch!" Walter held Jeff close to him so that he couldn't see while he mouthed "Thank you" to Cliff.

"DAD!...PIZZA!...GO!...I'M HUNGRY!" Jeff shouted breaking away from his dad's embrace.

"I'll go get the paper before he starts ordering me around!" Cliff said, as Walter and I scrambled out the door.

Later that evening after the pizza party, which had lasted until 11:30 PM, when the eleven-to-seven nurses started screaming at them, an RN came into Jeff's room.

"Father Cliff?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Are you the responsible party for Mr. Cole?"

"Yes, I am."

"The head nurse on Mr. Cole's floor has been trying to reach you."

Cliff panicked along with Walter, Jeff, Alex, and Ted.

"My God!" Cliff shouted. "What's wrong?"

"I believe his nurse said that Mr. Cole has come out of his coma and is asking for you..."

A gush of relief passed through Jeff's room as strong as a hurricane. Cliff ran for the stairs, without bothering with the elevators. Behind him were Walter, Alex, Ted, and even Jeff. The five of them scurried to Roger's room and quickly opened the door.

Roger was not only awake, he had unwrapped the turban of gauze and tape on top of his head from the surgery. Cliff ran to his side first and excitedly said, "ROGER!"

To which Roger replied, "Cliff, who the fuck shaved my goddamned head? My hair had just about grown back and now I'm fuckin' bald again!"

None of the five dared to crack a smile at first, but due to the breaking of nervous tension, everyone burst our into hysterical laughter. The 'old' Roger was back!

<><><><><><><><><><>

(To be continued in "Briarwood" BOOK THREE-"Briarwood Lost" chapter-thirty-five)

Next: Chapter 35: Briarwood Lost 35


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