Tales from the Ranch

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. If you are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man relations, please exit this page.

TALES FROM THE RANCH Copyrightc 2002 by Tulsa Driller 7. All rights reserved.

This is a story of men who have two common interests. You will see that they love the land where they live and work, but it is also the story of young men who love other men and their coming of age in a culture of prejudice and misunderstanding. It is a story, which deals with difficult and often disturbing issues but, nonetheless, issues which must be confronted in today's world.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. This work is copyrightedc by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

PLEASE: In a perfect world AIDS doesn't exist. My characters have unprotected sex. I hope you use proper precautions because I'd like you to be around the read the last chapter of this story.

Tales from the Ranch Chapter 16: Monday afternoon

Ray Evans had two messages waiting for him when he got back to his office Monday afternoon. They were both for the same thing; one from Marty and the other from Craig. He listened to the answering machine:

"Hi Ray. This is Marty Williamson. I've picked up a set of plans from Craig and we've looked them over. Guess the next thing is to find out when you can get started and also if you want to use any of our ranch crew. We have three men who work for Dale that can be available to help part of the time. Give me a call when you can. Thanks."

"Hello Ray. This is Craig Bastian. Marty has picked up the plans and I've gone over them with him. He didn't see that any changes were necessary. Let me know when you are going to start on this so I can make room in my schedule to make sure you can read this full set of plans. Talk to you later, Ray."

Ray laughed as he thought to himself. 'Full set of plans.' He had never had a full set of plans for anything they had done at the Bar-W Ranch. However, Marty was easy to work for, Craig provided the necessary drawings and they went from there. Both trusted Ray and his partners to question anything they didn't think was right. It wasn't like some architects and clients where they wanted full control over every saw cut and wanted to make sure the nails went in straight and not at an angle. No, this would be an easy job to complete and everyone would be satisfied. He and his partners, Keith and Andy, would be able to make a fair profit on the job and still do it faster and at a better price than any other builders in the area.

He took a chance that Craig might still be in his office and called him. Sherry answered the phone and transferred the call. Craig picked it up on the first ring.

"Hello."

"Craig, Ray Evans here. I understand that you are conducting a free class in elementary blueprint reading."

Craig laughed. "Yeah, Ray, I am. But first you have to be able to tell the difference between a straight line and a curved line. As I understand, you can't do that."

"You got me there. Well, I didn't want the job anyway. I'd rather work with a first-rate architect. Is Don around this afternoon?" he kidded.

"Hey Guy, life's tough sometimes. 'Fraid you're stuck with me."

"I was afraid of that. And you got the good guy before I could get to him, too. What did you do, offer Dale some candy?" he laughed.

"Yeah Guy, I gave him a big lollipop." Craig was laughing by now and having trouble talking.

Ray picked up on the joke. "I'll bet you did. Listen, I need some pointers on how to meet a stud like you found."

"Obviously, the only studs you know anything about are two- by-fours." This conversation was fun. Craig had never had the chance to 'camp' like this before and was enjoying every minute of the barbs they were trading back and forth.

"You're sharp. I would like to spend a casual evening with you guys sometime. I'm new at this life and I know you are, too. Maybe we can have drinks and dinner sometime, my treat," Ray said.

"That would be fun. We really don't know any other gay men in town, except for the few people at the Dignity group last evening. I think it would be nice to get to know some of the other people. We probably can all help each other."

"Let's plan on it. Now, the reason I called is to let you know that I'm going to have my crew out at the Bar-W tomorrow morning to set the elevation and mark out where they are to dig the basement."

"That's good news. I'm sure Marty will be pleased. Once you get the site established, we can have a construction meter set by the electric company and make plans for the other utilities."

"We'll be there at 9 a.m. with a crew. Shouldn't take us an hour to establish what we need. I'll have an excavator there right after lunch. Do you know if Marty wants the dirt hauled off the property or dumped somewhere on the ranch? That should be good dirt at that site and he could sell it if he wants to."

"I'll have to check with him. They may have some areas they want built up. Let me get him on the phone and I'll have an answer for you in the morning, if not before."

"Thanks, guy. Really appreciate you getting on this right away. Hard to believe that we just talked about this last Tuesday morning."

"Not a problem, Ray. Glad you are able to get started on this right away."

With that they hung up.

Craig dialed Marty's cell phone and he picked it up on the second ring.

"Marty Williamson," he answered.

"Hi Marty. This is Craig."

"And hello to you, Mr. Bastian," Marty teased.

"Mr. Williamson, I am the bearer of the news that Mr. Evans and his crew will be at your place at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning, ready to set the site elevations and mark where they are to excavate dirt."

"Hey, great. What do we need to do here?"

"Marty, they plan to start digging the basement about 1 p.m. and I guess the main question right now is what do you want them to do with the dirt. Ray seems to think that you could sell it as it should be good quality soil and probably can be used to backfill or for fill dirt. You may also have someplace that you want to use it on the ranch."

"Let me think about it. I may have to check with Dale to see if he needs to build up any areas along the river."

"Okay, just wanted to let you know. I'm going to call the electric company to have them set a construction meter. Hopefully they can do that within the next couple of days. If not, Ray has a generator on a truck that will supply what they need for power saws. The electric cop-op is usually pretty prompt in responding to requests of this sort," Craig replied.

"This is exciting news. It's amazing that we were just making preliminary plans for this last Tuesday."

"Yes, well I know you like to move quickly and I had the time to do this right away."

"Thanks for calling me, Craig. I'll see you in the morning and will have the answers you need then."

The connection was broken.

Dale was back at the hay barn in a little less than 45 minutes and there were only six bales of hay left to be put on the conveyor. 'Good timing,' he thought to himself.

He crawled up into the barn loft and was pleased with the job Michael and John had done in stacking the hay in the loft. He watched them put the final bales in place. There wasn't room for another two dozen so the space worked out just right.

As he crawled back down, the two followed him out of the loft. Pat had shut down the engine and was ready for Dale to give him instructions for moving the equipment.

"Let's take the conveyor back with us now and then we'll bring back two vehicles and tow the four trailers back to the equipment area.

As they were fitting the conveyor onto the trailer hitch on the pickup, Michael congratulated Dale on his promotion. "I understand that Mort is going to retire and you are going to take his place."

"Yes, that's true. It's going to be a very intense training period for me between now and the end of the year."

"Who's going to take your place as crew foreman?" Michael asked.

"I don't know and that's not a priority to fill that position as I can do it along with Mort's job until we find the right person."

"Will it be someone who already works here?" Michael asked.

"I don't know. We haven't even discussed that and probably won't for a few more days. There are several other decisions that are more pressing right now."

"Do you think I might have a chance?" Michael asked.

"It's possible. But - no promises," Dale said. "We haven't established a job description at this point, so officially, the job isn't there, yet."

"I'd like to have a chance at it, if it's possible," Michael said.

"Okay, but understand. No promises at this point. Is that clear?" Dale asked.

"Yes. I just wanted you to know that I like working here."

"You do good work. We'll just have to see what develops. Nothing may happen for several months."

The conveyor was hooked to the trailer hitch. John and Pat got in the bed of the pickup and Dale and Michael rode in the cab.

Dale received a call on his cell phone as they were driving back to the ranch. It could only be from Craig. No one else, at this point, knew he had a phone or the number.

"Dale Richards," he answered.

"Hi sweetie," came a familiar voice.

"Hi yourself," Dale responded.

"Just thought you would like to know that Ray Evans plans to have a crew at the building site tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. to set the elevations and mark out the basement. Then an excavator crew will be there about 1 p.m. to dig the hole. Marty will probably talk to you, but a decision will have to be made regarding where the dirt is going to go. You can either keep it at the ranch or probably sell it."

"Oh, okay, thanks," Dale said. He felt a little awkward in talking to Craig in front of Michael.

Craig didn't pick up on this and said, "Just wanted you to be thinking about it because Marty may see if you need to us the dirt for some filling in low areas."

"I appreciate that. I'll do some thinking and let Ray know in the morning. Thanks for calling me," he said.

"Hey, guy, I need to look out for my lover."

Dale was embarrassed. He hoped that Michael couldn't hear any of the conversation from the other end.

"I appreciate that. I'll see you later. Bye," Dale said. He pushed the off button and realized that he hadn't given Craig a chance to say goodbye. By the same token, he realized that nothing had been said that really wasn't ranch business except for Craig having said, "I need to look out for my lover." He felt better about the phone call.

Michael wasn't even paying any attention to what Dale's call was about.

They arrived back at the ranch and towed the conveyor to the equipment area. It took all four of them to unhitch it and move it into storage position. Dale instructed John and Pat to clean it up and grease it while he and Michael went back for the hay wagons. Dale let Michael drive the pickup and he drove his own new vehicle. He thought that he might as well "break it in" for ranch use.

That trip didn't take more than 20 minutes total and the little bit of loose hay blew off while they were moving down the road.

By this time it was 5:30 so Dale had them sign the timesheets for the day.

"Tomorrow we'll start cutting and raking the clover hay that we're selling. We will have to bale it, but not pick it up. They will come get it on Friday," Dale told the fellows as they were signing their timesheets.

Michael, Pat and John left in John's car to drive back to the Starlight.

Jason and Kevin rode the bus home. The Riley twins weren't on the bus and no one seemed to know where they were, although they had been in regular classes during the day. No one on the bus was concerned they weren't among the passengers, nor did they care. Jason was excited about the fact he was joining the Boy Scout troop that night. He was going to join Wolf Patrol because his friend, John Clark was a member of that Patrol.

The Patrol Leader was Scott Maxwell, who was a junior in high school. He was the oldest of the 8 boys, being 16, and Jason would be the youngest of the Patrol at 11. The troop would be having a campout the next Friday night and Saturday on the river on Bar-W ranch property. Jason was really excited at the prospect of doing something he considered very grown up.

When Coach Eddie Thompson finished Phys Ed class and the last of the boys were gone from the locker room, he looked around; spotting two towels that had not been thrown in the dirty towel container. He sighed as he picked up the towels, tossing them in the hamper with the rest. 'When would these kids learn to be responsible?' he wondered.

He headed toward the common office shared with Paul Dennison and the two women who were in charge of the girls Phys Ed program. Paul was sitting at his desk and Eddie sensed that he wasn't in a good mood.

He was right. Coach Dennison was never in a good mood.

"Hello, Paul," Eddie said as he entered the room.

Coach Dennison didn't bother to say hello. He immediately launched into his latest tirade about whatever was currently upsetting him.

"Heard you put the Riley boys out of your last hour Phys Ed class today. Glad you aren't putting up with any of their shit. They are going to be as bad as their brothers were when they were their age. Pete and Donald were absolute hellions and I couldn't ever get them tossed out of my classes. Just put them on the sidelines and told them to keep their mouths shut."

"I think the biggest problem is that Larry and Jerry don't know how to relate to people." Eddie started to say.

"Don't tell me how to entertain them during my classes," Paul said. "If you want to mollycoddle them you are welcome to do so, but the world doesn't need people like them. They are just trailer trash." He was starting to raise his voice.

"I heard that you got a sack full of shit deposited on your front porch, too. Did you make a report to the police?" he demanded.

"No, I didn't even think about it. There wasn't any damage so there was no reason to. Probably whoever did it is just waiting to see if it made it to the police blotter in the paper.

"I called the police and they sent some wimpy-assed rookie out. He didn't know what to do except fill out a report. He wouldn't even take it for evidence."

Eddie had to smile at that news. He couldn't imagine doing anything except to get a shovel and either bury it or put it in the trash.

Paul was starting to get wound up.

Eddie decided that this would be a good time to leave. Paul certainly had different ideas about how to handle problem boys that he'd been taught, or his short experience had taught him. He gathered up his backpack and headed toward the door.

"Did you get them out of your class permanently?" Paul demanded.

"I didn't try for that. They didn't want to participate in our last hour soccer game, so instead of sending them to detention, I sent them to a guidance counselor. I don't know who they saw, but maybe that person can get through to the boys that we'll treat them like they treat everyone else."

Coach was about to get even madder; Eddie could tell because his next statement was delivered at about half volume of a full tirade when he got wound up.

"The administration has played around with the older boys for years, never giving them the discipline they deserved. That's why Pete is 19 and still a junior in high school. Donald is 14 and in the seventh grade. It's a waste of the taxpayer's money for us to baby-sit them. If it was up to me, I'd bounced their asses so high that they would never be able to sit down again."

Eddie was tired of listening. "Sorry, I've got to go. Need to be somewhere by 4:30," as we walked out the door. "Have a nice evening."

Paul swore, mainly because he thought Eddie had walked out on him and not given him a chance to orate on what he perceived to be his answer to the social wrongs of the world. "Damn faggot," he said under his breath.

Coach really didn't know that Eddie was gay; he just thought he was too nice to the kids and that was going to get him in trouble when he had to come down hard on some of them for not following orders. That really was kind of the way Paul thought of himself - a drill sergeant. Maybe he should get a job at a boy's military school. Nah, that wouldn't work for him. Those places didn't hire anyone without a military background.

Eddie might be part of the problem, but he wasn't the answer to them. Paul knew how to discipline boys - at least in his own mind. The rest of the world didn't agree with him, but he didn't know that and wouldn't have believed it if someone had had guts to tell him so.

No, he'd heard that Eddie lived with another male teacher. Tom Bryant, the history teacher who had come to Austin School a year ago. He knew that Tom was popular with the other teachers and the kids liked him. He was probably weak and let the kids run over him, just like Eddie was doing. Maybe they deserved to live with each other.

Eddie went to Tom's classroom, but the door was already locked, so he knew he'd already set out for home. The two guys had bought a house about 3 blocks from the school and it was easier to walk back and forth than get the car out of the garage, drive, park it and go to their classroom. He knew, because one day just to check it out, they left the house at the same time, Tom driving his car and Eddie walking. Their agreement was that they would meet at Tom's classroom. Eddie got there first - a full 45 seconds before Tom. They hadn't bothered taking either of their cars since, unless the weather was bad or they had to go somewhere during the day.

A few of the other teachers had figured out that the guys were gay, but generally it wasn't discussed. They fit in well with everyone, kidded around and took part in the various activities the teachers were expected to lend their help to. They actually ran around with a couple of single women teachers. Gayness had never been discussed, but they were all comfortable being in each other's company and there was no pressure to date or escalate the friendship into something more than it was.

If anyone had asked either of them if they were gay, they would have told the truth - unless they thought there was an ulterior motive in the question. For instance, they would not have admitted it to Paul Dennison under any circumstances. No use having a dumb-ass jock coach on their case.

Eddie's thoughts were to the evening as he walked home. He thought Tom was going to the grocery store after school and if he hadn't left yet, he'd go with him. Otherwise, he had a project to put a computer desk together for the computer Tom wanted to buy.

He and Tom didn't have any stereotyped roles that some gay guys had. Neither could say they were the "wife" or the "husband" in that relationship. Sure, Tom prepared the meals, but only because he had more experience. Eddie enjoyed helping out in the kitchen, but he would never take on a project such as baking a cake or doing the laundry unless he just had to. Tom was content to do that. However, on the other hand, Eddie liked to do the yard work and had turned their backyard and part of the front into one of the prettiest yards in the neighborhood. Tom liked to work in the flowerbeds and had actually planned the replacement of trees and shrubs, but he didn't like to do the digging and moving dirt as did Eddie.

Their sex life had always been that they were versatile with each other. Again, no male/female roles for them. They each enjoyed being on either the giving or receiving end of a good fuck or blowjob - or whatever else they might do with or for the other.

Eddie started up the steps to the front door and it opened as he stepped on the porch.

"Hi Sweets," Tom said as Eddie walked in the house. After the door was shut they exchanged a passionate kiss.

"I'm not complaining, believe me, but what prompted that?" Eddie asked.

"Just glad to see my guy this evening. Missed you at lunch," Tom answered.

"We had a coach's meeting at noon that I'd forgotten, about the upcoming basketball season and were trying to decide about fielding a team of 11 to 14 year olds - fifth to eighth graders. If we have enough interest we can divide them into younger and older teams."

"Would this be an after-school activity?" Tom asked.

"Yes, but I might not be involved if it's only seventh and eighth grade boys."

"How soon will you know?"

"They are going to put out signup letters next week and mail them to all of the parents. They will have to be returned a week later and we'll see what happens then."

"I'm sure that if you are involved, it will be a good team," Tom said, kissing the end of Eddie's nose.

They hugged each other, enjoying the feel of the other's trim body against them.

"I had a thought I want to run by you," Tom said.

"What's that, Hon?" Eddie asked.

"Would you like to invite Craig and his new friend, Dale, over for dinner one evening this week? I think they would be nice guys to know and get acquainted with."

"That would be fine. We kind of know Craig from church and the Dignity meetings. Dale has helped coach a couple of little league teams the last two years, but I never had a chance to talk to him."

"If it's okay, why don't I see if Craig is still at his office and invite them?" asked Tom.

"Sure, okay by me."

Tom picked up the phone in the kitchen after he looked up the number and punched in the digits. Sherry, their office person, answered the phone. Tom identified himself and asked for Craig. The line went 'click' and Craig answered.

"Hello Tom, how are you this afternoon?"

"Great Craig, and you."

"Can't complain. We have a new project starting in the morning so I'm trying to tie up some loose ends here today so I can be on site tomorrow. By the way, congratulations to you and Eddie on being the newly elected officers of Dignity. I'll expect great things from both of you."

Tom laughed. "Well, for this group to work, we're going to need the help of everyone who is interested. This isn't just for Eddie and me, it's for all of us."

"I understand. Whatever you need done, let Dale and I know and we'll do it if we can."

"Glad to hear that." Tom paused. "Eddie and I would like to invite you and Dale over for dinner some evening this week. You both seem like great guys and we'd like a chance to get acquainted and find out about the two of you." He laughed. "No interrogation type thing, just good food and conversation among the four of us.

"That sounds good. I don't know what Dale's plans might be for evenings this week, but don't think he has anything. Can we get back to you on this after he gets home from work?"

"Sure, not a problem. Our phone number is 555-2132. We're getting ready to go out after a bit, but should be home by 5:30 or so."

"That's okay. Dale generally gets home between 5:45 and 6 o'clock anyway."

"Great. Look forward to hearing from you. Have a good evening."

"You too, bud. Later."

Craig was pleased to hear from Tom. He didn't know either of them well, but their brief conversations at coffee hour and the Dignity meetings were enjoyable. He thought they would be well matched to Dale and himself as friends.

"Craig has to check with Dale and he doesn't get home from the Bar-W until around 6 o'clock. He'll call us then after he finds out what might work for them."

"Sounds like you have it organized already," Eddie teased. Tom liked to plan dinner parties and other social gatherings.

"Do you want to ride to the grocery store with me?" Tom asked.

"If you want company. Otherwise, I'll put that computer desk together."

"Come on and ride along. It's still early enough that we can get through the store fairly quickly. Most of the mothers are already at home with their school-age kids and other people haven't gotten off work, yet."

They went into the garage and got in Tom's restored TR-6, his pride and joy. It had been his father's car and he had babied it after he got it new in 1975. As he got older, he drove it less and less, but still took care of it. For a surprise, he had it restored and gave it to Tom for a college graduation present. Tom had always enjoyed being allowed to drive it when he was old enough, but had completely been bowled over when it was given to him.

To their knowledge, it was the only TR-6 in Williamsport and the "British Racing Green" made the car stand out wherever they drove it. It was a neat car, they both thought.

Tom was right. There were few customers in the store. His other favorite time to shop was about 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning. He almost had the store to himself at that time.

They picked up the things on their grocery list. Tom picked out a pork loin roast in case the guys came for dinner that week. He would roast it regardless, but that would make a good entree, with dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy and vegetables. The rest of the stuff was pretty routine. Fresh vegetables, orange juice, coffee, flour, paper towels, beer, snack foods and a few canned goods.

As Tom stacked the purchases on the turntable for the checker, Eddie started writing a check.

They each carried a sack to their car and were back home within 40 minutes after they set out, including a stop at the liquor store to buy wine and scotch.

Tom had come to Williamsport two years ago. He and Eddie met each other shortly after he had signed a contract to teach in Williamsport. At first, after they decided to become partners, Tom was going to stay in Houston to be with Eddie. But, neither of them really liked the big inner-city school where they taught. The kids were from a lower social-economic section of town and it was not satisfying to try to teach them. Eddie had applied for a job in Williamsport, but there was not an opening. However, after Tom got here and talked to Mr. Tate, the principal at Stephen F. Austin School, he was told to have Eddie reapply right away because there was going to be an opening due to a retirement. He did and was assured of the job immediately, signing an early contract which would allow him to actually start and work in the summer little league program run by the school system.

It seemed like a long year for the two lovers as they had been together about a year when it was time for Tom to move to Williamsport. It was about 190 miles one-way between Houston and Williamsport, but most of the route was either Interstate or 4- lane divided, so could be driven in about 3 hours. There were few weekends that one or the other of them weren't on the road. Of course, Tom wasn't about to drive his TR-6 on a trip like that, putting on a lot of miles. He traded his old Chevy that he'd had since high school in on a new Pontiac Grand Prix. It was a lot nicer to drive because of being a hardtop coupe and air- conditioned.

Every weekend Eddie was in Williamsport, they went to open houses to see if they could locate a place to buy. They ended up with a place built in 1970, but in an older neighborhood that was 3 blocks from the school where they would both teach. They signed a contract and took possession the weekend Eddie made his move from Houston. It was good timing. The house was in good shape, just needing new paint, wallpaper and carpet.

It was a brick ranch-style house, but all of the trim needed to be scraped and painted. They changed the trim on the variegated brick house from white to a medium green and it made all the difference in the world in the appearance. The place seemed to "bloom" with the new color.

It didn't take them long to get the house into shape and then Eddie started in on the front yard. There were two pin oaks in the front yard, which provided shade, but the shrubs had become overgrown and when trimmed back they looked even worse. So, the major project that summer and fall was to remove the old shrubbery and replace it with new. At the same time, they added a couple of berms in the front to break up the flat lines of the house and yard and put in a couple of huge beds of perennial flowers. Not only was their house the newest on the block but was the most attractive yard, too. There was something to be said in favor of gay guys moving into an established neighborhood. They almost always improved the looks of the houses they bought. That, in turn, usually inspired their neighbors to spiff up their places, too.

The next project was to completely re-landscape the backyard. They added a small pool that was only 5 feet at its deepest, but was a "free-form" design. At the same time, they had a couple of trees removed that produced a lot of trash in the yard. It seemed that any little storm caused twigs and leaves to fall and also produced an abundance of seeds in the spring. These two trees were replaced with shorter, flowering trees and shrubs were replaced with others so there was always a display of beautiful colors throughout the growing season.

They were proud of their house and had every reason to be. It was set up for entertaining and this they did with ease and grace and they seemed to know more straight people than gay friends.

Tom and Eddie were a good match for each other. Both were 25 years old and had grown up in the Houston area. Tom had attended Rice University and Eddie had attended Texas Southern University. Their paths crossed the first week of their teaching career at Horace Mann Middle School. They met at a faculty mixer and were immediately attracted to each other. Each had a fair number of gay sexual experiences in college and was aware of the other looking his way when he could.

Tom was about 6'1", weighed 190, auburn hair, which was neatly trimmed, and brown eyes. He was a looker.

Eddie was a little darker in complexion, probably because he tanned easily and spent at lot of time outdoors. He was 5'11", weighed about 170, brown hair, cut short and had hazel eyes, which seemed to have gold flecks in them.

Both were wearing cargo shorts, polo shirts and sandals, which showed off their hairy legs and some of the light fur on their chests.

Neither was shy and Eddie struck up a conversation with Tom at the first chance he could. They hit it off immediately and each had well-developed gaydar that was pinging away to the other. Before the evening was over, they ended up back at Tom's apartment. Eddie spent the night and had moved in by the end of the second week they knew each other. They were pretty evenly matched. Both enjoyed sports, although Tom enjoyed watching while Eddie like to be involved, playing on a soccer team and an adult baseball league. Tom was always along to cheer him on.

They were wrapped in each other's arms almost as soon as they shut the door at Tom's apartment. They didn't need to sit and talk, pretending about anything they were not. It was pure lust and they were good in bed together, achieving new heights they hadn't experienced before. But, the pure lust turned into pure love and they were as devoted to each other as any two men could be. They loved to tease the other and enjoyed being a gay couple.

Living in Houston, there was a large gay community in the Montrose area and this is where Tom's (their) apartment was located. So, they were used to going out for an evening, to the movies, dinner, to the bars in the neighborhood and holding hands as they walked down the street. That was the only thing they missed about Houston, being around other gay men and women and the feeling of self-confidence they had.

Moving to Williamsport had seemed strange, but they loved the rural surroundings and it was close enough to Austin they could be at a gay bar in 25 minutes from leaving home. But, as they established themselves in the community, their trips to Austin became less frequent.

Still, they each felt there were probably a lot of closeted gays in Williamsport and they were confident enough in their sexuality to see about starting a Dignity chapter. This is where Father George and Paul came in.

George Tikker had grown up just outside Birmingham, England. His father was the Vicar of the Anglican Church in Boatbridge on the Skye Canal. George was somewhat on the wild side, as most clergymen's children seemed to be. He was always in scrapes and most likely was the instigator of one prank or another he and his friends played on people in his neighborhood.

Of course, like most kids who were about 14 years old, their prank making turned into masturbation sessions after the first of the group discovered what one could do to pleasure himself. To begin with they would wank themselves, although not all could have a wet orgasm at that point. Later they got more brave and started wanking the others. One thing let to another and a dare led to one boy sucking off George, then he did it to another boy, as it felt good to him.

They almost got caught a couple of times, but soon discovered that the bell tower at the parish church was a place to go where they were not likely to be discovered. The only problem was that the sexton rang the church bells every hour and the first time that happened, it scared all of them to death. Later they learned to stuff their ears with cotton and watched the clock to see when the bells would start sounding.

Since the ring was accomplished in less than a minute, it didn't halt their sexual activities.

Wanking and sucking soon led to other experiments and it wasn't long before one of the boys attempted to put his willy up another's bum. The only reason this didn't work was that they had no lubrication and hadn't discovered that spit would do in an emergency. Soon, one of the boys filched a jar of petroleum jelly from his bathroom and that became a permanent fixture in the bell tower. The boys took care of replacing it as it was emptied, but there was never a time it wasn't available when needed for a good slick wank or fuck.

By the time George finished his courses at University, he had decided to become a priest, but decided he liked the American version of the Anglican Church better. His father encouraged him to go to Wisconsin and attend seminary at Nashotah House outside Milwaukee. The churchmanship practiced there was "high church" and had turned out a number of clerics who went on to important church positions and also as Bishops.

George didn't want to "out" himself to others in the seminary and soon discovered that Milwaukee's gay bars were an easy bus ride from the school. So, on evenings when he had no duties in chapel, he was off to entertain and be entertained. He was usually lucky enough to get a ride back in someone's car and all of the young men watched out for the other, seldom reporting lateness in getting in after curfew.

After completing his studies, he was ready to be ordained and the big decision was if he should remain in the United States or return to England. The Archbishop of York had, his father's mentor, sponsored his going to Nashotah House, so he felt he owed it to return to his Diocese to be ordained as a Deacon.

He was assigned to his first post as a Curate, supplying in place of a vicar at a small church about 20 miles from where he grew up. He was there for a year, then was reassigned to more responsibilities as a chaplain at a boys school. Being a Deacon, he couldn't celebrate the Eucharist, but he could perform baptisms, weddings, and funerals and give communion with reserved sacrament, essentially performing as a Vicar but not being able to say mass.

It was at St. Hugh's Boys School that he met Paul Rathborne, the school organist who was studying with the organist at a large church, St. Mary's in Birmingham. At this time George was 24 and almost ready to be ordained to the priesthood. Paul was 22.

Their friendship soon developed into a torrid, hot love affair. Since Paul was on staff at St. Hugh's, he also had a small room there in the faculty section. It was not as large as the two rooms George had and since they were in the same wing, it was easy for Paul to sleep with George in his room. Only a couple of the faculty was aware of the relationship and they had their own secrets to keep so weren't about to say anything.

When the Bishop of his Diocese determined that George was ready to be ordained as a priest, he again called upon the family friend, the Archbishop of York to preside at his ordination and perform the ceremony, which was held at Coventry Cathedral. Paul, of course, planned the glorious music and executed it with the help of the cathedral men and boys choir and a brass ensemble he took from St. Hugh's School.

It was an ordination to make any priest proud and the church was full of clerics whom George had known as he was growing up.

George served now at St. Hugh's as priest in charge of the religious studies, but could now celebrate mass. Of course, Paul saw to it that the music became even grander since there was no opposition to anything he wanted to do. George was in favor of improving the choir, something Paul had tried to do, but was rebuffed by the Dean of the School. Now he had free reign with George's new position. It wasn't long before his efforts were noticed and St. Hugh's choir of men and boys was soon in demand to perform at area churches and the cathedral in Birmingham.

After a year with no prospects for them going to a larger church they decided that the United States offered possibilities of a new challenge for each. Again, George talked to the mentor he and his father shared. He made an appointment with the Archbishop of York and took Paul with him to the meeting.

His Grace listened with an open mind and thanked them for being frank; assuring them he had an open mind. He told them that quite frankly he couldn't pull off finding them what they thought would be the ideal assignment, but offered to contact several bishops in the Episcopal Church in the United States. George heard back from three, who passed their credentials to churches in their dioceses. Again, they heard back from three large parish churches.

The first was in upstate New York. They had an established music program, but did not practice the "high church" ritual they were interested in.

The second church was in California. There was no men and boys choir, however, they had a good adult choir. Again, the churchmanship was not to their liking.

Then they heard from St. James the Less in Williamsport. The church had had an Anglican priest from the very beginning in 1850 and was proud of that tradition. The present organist/choirmaster wanted to retire. The church had a good adult choir, but wanted to establish an "English Cathedral" music program. Furthermore, a wealthy family had offered to purchase a new organ for the cathedral-like building that was St. James.

George and Paul made it very clear from the beginning that they were gay and wanted to locate where their talents would be used and appreciated. There was little opposition from the Vestry (the governing body of the parish church) although the Bishop of Ft. Worth had balked. He was reminded that St. James contributed more than its allocated share to the Diocesan budget. Strangely, that was the last heard in the matter of hiring George and Paul.

The two traveled to Williamsport to visit the church and to see the area, falling in love with the building and people as they met everyone. The rectory needed to be remodeled and that project was completed, giving them a new "grand old house" to move to.

Of course, Paul was thrilled with the prospect of a new pipe organ and Schantz in Orrville, Ohio was chosen as the builder based on the excellent instruments they had built for churches over the entire United States. Paul, working with the Schantz Tonal Director, came up with a rather grand specification, actually larger than was needed for the parish, but it was approved and Marty Williamson happily wrote a check for a memorial to his grandparents - $825,000 for 90 ranks of pipes on 4 manuals. Paul and George were ecstatic. Their dreams were coming true.

The organ was installed a year after the two arrived to serve the church. By this time Paul had a well-trained choir of men and boys, augmented by a few adult women. A grand dedication was planned, using the organ, choirs from the area and a brass ensemble. George invited his mentor and the Archbishop of York came to be the celebrant at the solemn high mass of dedication with George assisting as co-celebrant of the mass. Paul scheduled an organ recital for that afternoon at 4 p.m. There were so many people who could not get into the building that after a quick decision, Paul agreed to repeat the recital at 6 p.m. The church was full for the third time that day.

The Archbishop was the highest-ranking prelate to ever be at St. James and that established the parish as "the place to be" that day. Those who didn't attend one of the celebrations had missed out on a grand occasion.

Because of the efforts of George and Paul, the church was growing and membership had increased by almost 200 people in the three years they had served St. James. Other churches wanted to hire them away and offered more money, but their hearts were in Williamsport and they were not going to leave - not after what people had done for them.

The most important thing to them, other than serving their Lord was that they were accepted as a couple and no one thought anything was out of the ordinary with that fact.

(to be continued)

• • • • • Author's Note: This is my first attempt at gay fiction, and the only way I can learn whether or not I should continue is from my readers' feedback. I would appreciate your comments, criticism, suggestions, and anything else that you would care to say. All Email will be answered. If you wish to receive e-mail notification of subsequent posting, please let me know by sending your request to the e-mail address below. Contact me at: tulsadriller7@aol.com

Thanks for the overwhelming response to previous chapters. I received positive replies from all over the world. My special thanks to RW, whom I've known for many years and value his suggestions. Also for the proofreading help of Paul Daventon, author of "Turning the Page" found in the "Adult-Friends" section of Nifty. Please read it.