A note from Chris

I was reminded just the other day that some readers found it disconcerting that the focus of this story has shifted away from the original characters. But as is the nature of writing, a story written like this is too broad, too deep for just two characters to maintain, and thus it evolves.

If I had written this story all at once and organized it as we are taught to do in school there would be an outline and a plot. I don't delude myself, I have never worked that way. The time between chapters allows me to think of development, and then I sit and bash out the pages trying to match my words to the thoughts I've had. So now you know my secret, my English teachers would be appalled. So be it.

But even as we enter the twilight of this story, I will return to the beginning. For life and love are not unique to any time period, the cycle repeats itself, renewing our interests, our hopes, our dreams.

Chris James

Adam stood on the doorstep and knocked, wondering if Dr. Thorne would answer the door himself. He'd been back at school for twenty-four hours now, wondering, worrying ... how was he going to do this?

It was late afternoon and he could feel the chill seeping up through the snow covered steps beneath his feet. It had stopped now, but the day had been filled with swirling flakes. There was a sound inside and the door opened.

"I thought I heard a knock, come inside Adam," Thorne said. "You should have rung the bell, I almost didn't hear you."

"Thank you, sir. I won't take much of your time."

They walked back to Thorne's office and Adam shivered at the sudden warmth from the fireplace.

"See, you are cold, take that coat off and stand by the fire."

Adam did as he was told and felt grateful for the immediate warmth that spread through his body.

"So what brings you here?" Thorne asked.

"Tim, sir ... my roommate," Adam said.

"Oh? Is there a problem?"

"No, sir, not with Tim ... I ... I just feel I needed to do something. He's told me all about his father and the situation at home. I'm worried that he'll have problems with the tuition," Adam said. He looked at Thorne and withdrew an envelope from his pocket. "Here, sir."

Thorne took the envelope and saw the nervous look on the boy's face. "What did you bring me?" He asked.

"Open it, sir."

Thorne tore off the end of the envelope and extracted a bank check; his eyebrows went up when he saw the amount. "Goodness, whatever is this for?" He asked.

"For Tim, sir. I want to pay his tuition and board all the way through graduation; I calculated it based upon what my parents pay the school."

Thorne nodded. "Come sit down now and tell me what this is all about." He said, patting the couch beside him. He looked down at the check as Adam took a seat and then he gazed back at the boy.

"I ... well, Tim is my friend, sir. I don't want him to lose the opportunity for a fine education because his mother can't pay the bill. That's about it, except I can afford it; this won't place a burden on me."

"This is your money and not your parent's?"

"Yes, sir, it's from my trust," Adam said.

Thorne smiled. "This is a fine gesture, Adam ... but it wasn't necessary. We'll allow Tim to continue at Bradford due to the circumstances, the school will wave his tuition."

"I'm sure you could, sir, but I don't want Tim to think he's a charity case because of it, this is more of a scholarship offering to the school."

"You want him to think we gave him a scholarship, is that your intention?"

"Yes, sir."

Thorne sat back and appraised Adam. In all his years at the school nothing like this had happened before. The check for sixty-two thousand dollars would more than cover the expense of one boarding student. The generosity of this boy was astounding, but then he probably shouldn't be surprised at anything Adam did.

Elias had brought the boy's name up at a faculty meeting the previous fall, just before Thanksgiving. Most of the faculty had a positive outlook towards the boy; he was considered an excellent student by all. Only his math teacher, Ms. Simmons, had a different view of the boy.

"He does all his class work and his homework is up to snuff, but his mind seems to wander when I'm talking," She said.

Elias smiled. "Have you considered the boy is bored by the subject matter?"

"Goodness, he's just a freshman," Simmons said.

"Dear Emma, and all of you for that matter," Elias said. "I'm sure none of you have looked at his file, now have you? What we have here is the perfect Bradford student, one who can be challenged and pushed to the limits of your teaching knowledge. I know he begs for that challenge, we've discussed this very same thing.

"In fact, if he was given his due as a student we ought to elevate him to the level of a sophomore if not a junior, but he doesn't want that. He wants to be a normal boy, not a gifted student. He probably has the highest potential of any student I have seen in my fourteen years at this school; he certainly has the highest IQ of the lot. Don't fool yourselves, I predict Adam will graduate as valedictorian of his class, he could probably teach us a thing or two in the mean time."

Thorne recalled that speech now as he sat looking at the boy. Adam was not only smart he was compassionate. "Do your parents know about you donating this money?"

"Yes, sir, I couldn't do something like this behind their backs. I've always donated about twice that amount each year to charity, now I think its better spent close to home."

"Tim is your friend ... " Thorne said.

"Best friend, yes ... but I don't want him to know the source of the funding," Adam said.

Thorne sighed. "I suppose it's possible to accept the offering. We have others here whose tuition is covered by the school, there is a scholarship fund established. I would need to talk with your parents about this before accepting the gift."

Adam smiled. "My father said you would."

"It's tax deductible you know, I'm sure that's one of his considerations."

"The trust isn't taxed, I'm a minor at the moment, but I will accept the credit. I told my father that if you could accept this for Tim that I wanted to begin a permanent scholarship for a needy boy every year. I know what this school means to me, sir ... I want others to be able to have the same advantage."

Thorne saw the earnest look in the boy's face and he nodded. "You're an exceptional student, Adam ... and an exceptional person as well. I'll speak with your parents and present this to the Board. I'm sure Tim has no idea what a good friend you are, but I'm very proud to have you here at the school."

"Thank you, sir."

Adam left and Thorne picked up his phone, dialing a number from memory. "Elias? Can you come over, there's something you need to see," He said.

Mrs. Warner received the scholarship notice two weeks later and wrote her son a long letter of praise, certain that his abilities as a student had won him the tuition grant. It was a great load off her mind, and no one would sing the praises of Bradford Academy louder than her over the coming years.

Adam had spent Christmas Day with his parents, having given Renny his gifts on Christmas Eve. Nothing fancy, just some rare classical recordings to inspire the young painter and an expensive leather jacket. He would have emptied his bank account to clothe the boy, but he knew Nora would throttle him.

And Renny was so easy to please, the years of depravation now made him grateful for anything someone did for him. But now the boy had some money, and he gave Adam a gold chain in return. No matter that Adam had half a dozen more valuable chains in the tray on his dresser, this one was from Renny and he wore it proudly.

Barbara Marshall had suggested Adam have his friends over the day after Christmas, and he agreed. He had thought to make the gathering a luncheon, since dinners tended to be rather formal affairs in his house. His mother liked the idea and set the cook to making something special. Her own curiosity about Nora and the adopted boy led her to ask Adam what he thought they might like to eat.

"Mrs. Dennison is not some backwoods socialite, Mother," Adam said with a smile. "Her family and ours probably rubbed elbows several generations ago, Wolfey told me that."

"Good heavens, who is Wolfey?" Barbara asked.

"Wolfgang Von Scholtz, he's with the Philharmonic ... you've met him. Nora introduced me to him."

"Yes, I have met him. So why is such a distinguished musician friends with Renny's mother?"

"He knows her father and because of Jessie, he's Neil's ... um, boyfriend," Adam said, suddenly realizing how complicated this had just become.

Barbara nodded. "So Renny's older brother is gay as well, I'm with you so far."

"Renny met the Dennison's because Neil took a post at a gay youth hostel in the Village last summer, he was teaching. In fact I think he would make a marvelous teacher, but I think his grandfather would like to see him enter the family business," Adam said.

"And that would be?"

"Elkins and Reinhart ... the investment group, I believe you know them."

"Goodness, I had no idea. So Nora Dennison is the daughter of Mr. Elkins, now I have it straight. I don't wonder they know Mr. Von Scholtz, that family virtually founded the symphony."

"So plan whatever you want to eat, I think Renny is about the only one with limited tastes."

"I was thinking of a nice Christmas soup and a shrimp salad," Barbara said.

"Make that chicken if you would, I doubt Renny knows much about shrimp," Adam said, and then he laughed. "Lord, I better find out before he gets dragged all over Europe."

"You like him a whole lot, don't you?"

"Of course I do, he's a gifted artist. Just because I'm a little older doesn't mean we don't have things in common. His life was so messed up, I understand a bit of that."

"Come here, sweetie," Barbara said. Adam stood beside her chair and she brushed back the hair covering his eyes. "I know you've had a tough time, but something has made you happier, was it Renny?"

Adam nodded, afraid to speak. They were on the brink of understanding here, the closest they'd ever come. All he had to do was speak its name. "I ... I love him, Mother."

Barbara smiled and stroked his cheek. "I thought you might ... don't be afraid of talking to me. How long have you known?"

"Since October ... that's when I met him."

"You're sure this is what you want?" Barbara asked.

"Yes, I've never wanted anything more. He ... he's just so special ... so perfect."

"That's how it begins; love is a very potent feeling. Does his mother know?"

Adam nodded. "I'm sorry; I should have told you straight off, it wasn't fair."

"No dear, she already knew about Renny before he was adopted. I've had the feeling something was different about you for a long time, now we can talk about it. This doesn't change the way I feel about you."

Adam slid his arms around her neck and they hugged. "I love you too."

"You understand your mind better than I do, just remember to be responsible, he's just a little boy."

Adam stood up and smiled. "You won't think so once you've met him. We're both being responsible, we made a deal with Mrs. Dennison."

"A deal?"

"Yes ... nothing happens under her roof; she made that a condition of our continued relationship," Adam said, "Its not easy you know."

"She sounds like a very perceptive woman, I look forward to meeting her," Barbara said.

Barbara sent a car to fetch them, unsure if they might get lost in the upper reaches of the Island. Homes out here were gated, some completely unmarked. It wouldn't do to have her guests get lost on the way to lunch.

She had considered inviting the entire group staying in Robert Elkins apartments, but maybe next time. This meeting was now about the boys and their conversations would best be private. Lunch was being prepared when the car finally arrived and Adam went out to greet them.

"Mother, this is Mrs. Dennison and Renny," Adam said, almost too formally. The boy was stressed; a lot of his future with Renny depended on this meeting between families.

"Nora, so nice to finally meet you. And Renny, you look just as handsome as Adam described you," Barbara said.

There was enough in that statement for Nora to know that Adam had told his mother, good for him. "Please, let's get settled in," Barbara said.

The house was too much like her father's for Nora to get comfortable, large and austere were the words that came to mind. But these people traveled a lot; home was just another place to visit. It said a lot about Adam, he and Renny had no problem with snuggling up on her couch with their feet up, which would never happen here.

But Barbara didn't seem like a social maven, she had married the money Nora guessed. They talked about the finals week and the Christmas concert, safe subjects. Fortunately they were called into lunch,sat down at a nice table and Nora looked across at Renny sitting beside Adam.

There had been so little time with the boy to teach him table manners, but he adapted pretty well. He watched Adam and mimicked, it was sweet. The only moment of pure Renny came when the soup was served. He leaned over to Adam and whispered.

"The soup is green ... what's in it?" Renny asked. His voice carried but it only made Barbara smile.

"I don't know, but it's good," Adam replied.

Renny tasted the soup and smiled. "Yes, it is."

"Renny, no whispering, it's not polite," Nora said.

"Yes, Mom."

"The soup has broccoli and potatoes in it, Renny," Barbara said.

"Oh, it's very good," Renny replied.

Adam giggled. "I didn't think Renny liked broccoli?"

"Hush," Nora said. "You'll give away all our family secrets."

"No, it really is good," Renny said, and they all laughed.

"So Renny, tell me about Wolfgang ... how did you meet him?" Barbara asked.

Even the condensed version took them well into lunch, and by the time Renny was done Barbara could only agree with her son, this boy was special. Adam smiled, knowing Renny had scored points. It only remained to be seen what the two women would share after the meal, mothers were hard to understand.

Adam took Renny upstairs after lunch, leaving the two women to their coffee.

"He's a bright boy, is he of Spanish origin?" Barbara asked.

"Probably, his parents are Puerto Rican ... they abandoned him because of his sexual feelings."

Barbara shook her head. "He's better off with you. So ... Adam told me, I'm sure you've guessed that by now."

"Yes, it had to be a time of his choosing," Nora replied.

"I agree. He also mentioned his deal with you, which took courage on your part."

"It was done before I found out, I think Renny started it. But Adam is a smart young man, he knew I disapproved and he did something about it. I had to respect that level of commitment; he was willing to give up everything except the companion."

"He's a tough little negotiator; I've learned that first hand. But Renny isn't an intellectual challenge, their relationship is emotional. Having a mind like that has been a burden to him over the years, I think Renny understands that," Barbara said.

"Your son posed for mine ... a nude. It shocked me, but not Adam. He was willing to pose because Renny has the skill to reproduce what he sees. It's an exceptional sketch and it's slowly becoming an oil painting. I didn't think you wanted to see it, but I felt I had to tell you it exists."

Barbara smiled. "Thank you, but I'm not surprised, he's such a giving boy. Has he told you of the gift he's planning to give a boy at school?"

"No, he hasn't mentioned a thing," Nora said.

And Barbara went on to explain the check for Tim's tuition. Nora only felt comfort at hearing this, how like Adam to take care of others.

"I think the boys will have a wonderful time in Europe," Barbara finally said. It seems the issue was settled. "I hope Wolfgang knows what he's getting into."

"I think he's better prepared than most of us would be, it will be good for them to face a little of that German authoritarianism."

Barbara laughed. "Yes, as I recall he can be strict."

"He loves them both, it will be hardest on him," Nora said.

Barbara poured more coffee and asked after the rest of her family. Now Nora felt comfortable enough to discuss Neil and Jessie. Barbara listened to that story and nodded.

"When they move to the city I'll have them over, just a little moral support if they need it."

"That would be kind," Nora replied.

This Christmas with Renny was a delight for everyone. Just having a young boy in the house was quite an event, even Neil got into the spirit of things after spending an hour on the phone with Jessie. That morning Nora and the boys had made breakfast, serving Robert and Wolfey a grand meal. Wolfgang complained about the calories, but still he ate the most.

"Get over it," Robert laughed. "Germans have the un-godliest food, its pure cholesterol as far as I'm concerned."

"We have to, it gets cold there you know," Wolfey replied.

"What will we eat when we go to Berlin, Uncle Wolfey?" Renny asked.

"Schnitzel and noodles, sauerbraten and cabbage ... all good food," Wolfey said.

"I always thought the hamburger came from there."

Wolfey laughed. "Not so, that is an American invention. We invented sausages."

"Oh, I like sausage," Renny said. "Do they have lasagna there?"

"I'm sure we can find you some, just don't be afraid, you won't starve to death," Wolfey said.

"There were times when I didn't eat for days," Renny said, and then suddenly realized it was the wrong thing to say.

Nora knelt down beside his chair and put her arms around him. "Those days are over, sweetie ... just let them go."

"I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to make everyone sad."

Robert smiled. "My wife, and by that I mean the real one." He sighed. "Well, your grandmother worried about people having enough to eat, Renny. There was a Great Depression in this country when she was a little girl, she knew what hunger meant. It gave her a strong desire to help others and she did, bless her soul."

"What was she like, Grandfather?"

Robert sighed. "We lived here in this apartment for many years and she used to sing opera music. Wolfey remembers her; he was just a boy himself back then. But she used to fill the rooms with her musical friends and they would sing until the cows came home."

Renny looked stunned. "You had cows ... in here?"

Neil choked on his coffee and Wolfey laughed. Robert only smiled. "Well some of those ladies were quite large." He said.

"Dad! Now don't listen to him Renny, he's pulling your leg," Nora said.

Renny was laughing too, cows in the apartment made no sense, just nonsense.

"When the cows come home is an old expression, Renny. It means when the day is over. But they sang half the night or played music on that piano. Wolfey played here as well; we heard some of his earliest compositions on that piano, simply wonderful."

"Now he's teasing you again," Wolfey said. "My early music was quite bad, but people were kind. I had too much of that German school influence ... Wagner be damned."

"It was heroic music, that's all," Nora said.

"Only Hitler could have appreciated it," Wolfey said.

"Adolph Hitler?" Renny asked. "He liked your music?"

Neil lost it there, going off into peals of laughter and incurring his mother's glare.

"No, dear," Nora said. "We studied Hitler didn't we? He was long dead before Wolfey was even born. World War Two, I'm sure you remember."

"Oh yeah, that was silly of me."

"It was just my way of saying the music I composed back then wasn't fit for a dog, Renny. I have learned so much since then, thank goodness."

Robert nodded. "We've all come a long way since then, even our music. You know, I bet Renny would like to see a musical ... why don't we find one he'll like."

They had two days to kill; it took most of that to get tickets. Renny looked at the offerings on Neil's laptop and decided on Billy Elliot because it was about a boy. Wolfgang managed to get them four seats, but he begged off with a previous engagement.

The theatre was packed, and Renny gaped at the size of the place and all the people. He sat between Nora and Robert and they reviewed the program.

"So he becomes a ballet dancer but he's not gay?" Renny asked.

Nora smiled. "Yes, just dancing doesn't mean that you're gay."

"Yeah, not all artists are gay."

"Then you understand. Just watch the boy as he performs, you'll see how hard he works," Nora said.

And Renny did, amazed at the stamina of the dancers. He laughed at the jokes and cried when Billy was treated badly. He was quiet at the end, his eyes puffy and full of tears.

Nora sat with him as the theatre cleared. "Did you like the show?"

"It was real ... very real," Renny said. "I get it. He came out of nothing and became a star because he had a dream ... a wish to become a dancer. Oh yeah, I get it."

"I thought you would ... he was very much like you," Nora said, feeling the emotions well up inside.

"Yeah, Mom ... like me, only he never had a mother like you to make it all happen."

Nora lost it and pulled the boy to her side, kissing him on the forehead. "I think you're worth it," She said, trying to hide the tears.

That was a night Nora would remember for years, it was the best thing they had ever done together as a family. Robert flew them home to New Bridge two days before the New Year dawned. Jessie returned the day after, and so did Steve. Adam would stay in New York until school started; he had some things to arrange.

Red and Neil stood arm in arm as they waited at the gate. Jessie came first; Steve was an hour behind him. The scene they made at the airport garnished some smiles, but they all couldn't wait to get home and have a little privacy.

Steve was a little unhappy; he'd had to argue with his mother to return this soon. "This new guy is a shit," Steve said. "I can't wait until I turn eighteen."

Red didn't know what to say. "I don't think most boys like the idea of a step-father."

"Oh, he'll never even be that to me. He just thinks too much of himself, he doesn't even have a college education. But of course my mom doesn't see it; he must have a big cock."

"Steve ... what is wrong with you?" Red asked. He was aware that Neil and Jessie were sitting up front trying to ignore what they were saying, but how easy was that?

"I ... well, I just think he's after her money, that's all."

"Your mom has been single for a while, maybe she feels flattered to have a guy paying attention to her, that will wear off," Red said.

"You'd think, I hope so. He acted like I ought to show him instant respect just because he's dating my mother, it doesn't work that way," Steve said.

"Don't let it get you down; you can't control what she does."

"No ... I just deal with it. Sorry, babe, I ought to be happy to see you and stop bitching."

"We share everything, Steve. My life is your's," Red said.

Steve smiled and gave him a kiss. "Yes, and I ought to be thankful for that."

Neil dropped them off and headed home. Red lead his boy upstairs and Steve stopped when he stepped in the room. "You cleaned, it looks wonderful."

"I have those pink bubbles you like and some sandalwood incense too," Red said.

Steve grinned seductively. "OK, now you're talkin."

It was always the same; they bathed and fell into bed. Only now they had a week to make up, and make up they did. They both lay back exhausted after the second time, there would be a third and they both knew it.

"When I turn eighteen I want us to get married," Steve said out of the blue.

Red rolled on his side and looked at the boy. "I'd marry you in a heartbeat."

"We could live in Boston, go to college and ... Oh hell, I don't know what I want to do for a living," Steve said. "You still want to go to film school?"

"I don't know anymore, I still think about it."

"I'd work at McDonalds to support you," Steve said. "But you really ought to sing."

"I'm not all that, where could I sing?"

"I don't know, but you have a great voice," Steve said and then he chuckled. "Among other things."

The third time was the charm, they both fell asleep.

Jessie was happy to see Nora, Renny and his grandfather once again, even Wolfgang looked well rested and fit. But all he wanted was to be alone with Neil, and it was Nora who picked up on that, shooing them off to Neil's room.

There wasn't the same urgency in their approach to the bed; they had lost none of the familiarity because of the time apart. Love was soft and sweet, old lovers making new commitments. They both knew this would be their last semester at Bradford, a place they had known certain comfort ... the place they had met.

"Did you get a chance to relax?" Neil asked as they lay back.

"Yes, my aunt and uncle know how to rejuvenate me. I have two weeks before Julliard, I'm confident."

"I'm coming with you, if you want that is."

"Babe, I never want to be apart from you again."

Neil sighed. "The very nature of your career will separate us, it's a big world."

"I have four years to worry about that, have you heard from NYU?"

"Not yet, did you know Elias sent them a letter about me?"

"No ... He did? What an angel."

"He says that when the trees are in bloom he wants us over to his house for dinner. He lives in the middle of an orchard; he says it's beautiful when the trees flower and we have to see that."

"He's gay you know, I think he likes you, Neil."

"Of course he does, but not like that. We're going to become good friends after graduation."

"So, about this party ... "Jessie said.

"Staid, stogy ... no wild stuff, I promise."

"No, I mean the weather forecast ... I think you'll have to cancel."

Neil smiled. "And be stuck here alone with you ... aww, what a shame."

"You forget, we have Renny and two house guests."

"My door has a lock."

"We might need it."

Dillon made it on the last flight into Logan Airport at eleven in the morning, and then they shut down. The snow squalls blanketed the area but it wasn't a blizzard. The storm had chased them all the way up from Washington, and he was relieved when the plane finally landed. His mother had tried to hold him back but he had boarded anyway, Alan was waiting.

They grabbed his bags and headed for the parking lot which was virtually empty.

"Where's your car?" Dillon asked.

"You're looking at it, Mom bought it for me."

They stood in front of a bright red Jeep Cherokee. "Sweet, all you need is a snow plow."

Alan laughed. "Nope, but this is why I came for you, no worries getting home."

His optimism was soon squashed; Interstate 93 was at a crawl. It was just fine to have four wheel drive unless there were a lot of slow cars ahead, they laughed at his presumptions.

"So how was Christmas?" Alan asked.

"Good, and you?"

"I was ... well I missed you so much I went a bit crazy," Alan said.

"Uh oh, what happened?"

"Oh nothing drastic, well ... I rearranged my room and redecorated a bit."

"That sounds OK."

"I spent two thousands dollars," Alan said.

"What! How the hell did you do that? I bet your mom went through the roof," Dillon laughed.

"She was a bit concerned," Alan said, and then he grinned. "But I bet you like it."

Dillon finally understood, Alan had done it for him. The drive finally came to an end, taking almost two hours longer than expected. Alan carried the bags up the stairs and held the door open so Dillon stepped inside.

Alan had bought a twin computer desk, now they could sit side by side. There was a leather couch eight feet long and a carpet so deep Dillon just wanted to remove his shoes and run his bare feet through that shag. But the bed was different, larger and when he sat he realized it was softer. Looking up he saw the ceiling had been painted dark blue and there were stars dotting the artificial sky.

"This only took you a week?" Dillon asked.

"Yup, that's what money does," Alan said. "So, what do you think?"

"I want to lie under the night sky with you."

"Let's shower and warm up first."

"Good idea," Dillon said.

Alan turned on the lights and it seemed a bit brighter in here now, new fixtures as well. He closed the drapes as they began to undress, and then they stepped into the bathroom. They washed, touching and yet afraid of becoming aroused too soon.

"I thought about you the whole time, my mom says I'm love sick," Dillon said. "I think she would like to meet you."

"OK ... how awkward can that be? I am not good with mothers."

Dillon smiled. "Don't think of it that way. What are we going to do when you graduate and I'm still at Bradford? You won't be a student; will they let me come over here? But if you meet my mom and she likes you I think there won't be any issues."

"I don't know if I can stay here, sweetie. The only college around is in Concord, that's ninety miles away. I haven't figured that one out yet," Alan said.

"It isn't always going to be easy; do we have to think about it now?

Alan smiled. "No, we need to worry about when the hot water is going to run out."

"Hmm, you have a nice warm bed out there, we need to christen it."

They got out and dried, and then Alan held Dillon up at the door. "Close your eyes; I have a surprise for you."

"OK."

Alan led Dillon into the bedroom and told him to stand still. "Open your eyes."

The room was pitch black, except for the stars. Hundreds of little glowing points of light shown down on them, the stars glowed in the dark.

"Oh wow, that's so cool," Dillon said.

"I just ... I want to make love to you under the stars," Alan said, crawling onto the bed.

Dillon slid himself up on the bed and lay down. The effect was bigger now; the whole universe glowed above them. "We have to do this for real someday, I mean outside. Preferably without snow. Hey, the bed is bigger."

"I went from a double to a queen size, we needed the room."

Dillon giggled. "Not when you're on top."

The boy was tight, so wonderfully tight, he still felt like a virgin. But the moans said he was anything but a virgin anymore, Dillon was so fucking hot inside. Alan was in no hurry, he had waited too long for this to pass by in a flash. They made love for almost two hours, it was incredible.

"You think we'll party tomorrow?" Dillon asked.

"The party is tonight, and I don't think we're going anywhere in this weather. I'd rather bring in the New Year with you ... I even have champagne."

"You have wine? How romantic, I should have known, where is it?" Dillon asked.

"Outside ... chillin."

"Glasses?"

"Yup, I love you."

"I love you too."

So the party failed to materialize, but that didn't mean it was an unhappy New Year. The only pair that didn't make it back to Boston was Tyrone and Brent, their flights cancelled. Ty went to the phone bank in the Delta terminal and called home. Brent went to the phone bank in the Delta terminal and called his dad.

"Mom, the flight has been cancelled, I'm stuck in Atlanta all night," Tyrone said.

"Can you get a room? You have the credit card I gave you," She said.

"I'll try; maybe they'll get me out of here tomorrow morning."

"I'm sorry, dear ... it's terrible to be stuck there on New Year's Eve."

"I'll be fine, Happy New Year to you and dad. Good Bye, Mom."

"Bye, dear."

Brent had pretty much the same conversation with his dad, and then he walked to the Delta counter to inquire about hotels. There was quite a crowd asking for information, including one guy standing there talking to the lady behind the counter with his hoodie pulled up. Brent waited his turn and looked up just as the guy turned around.

"Ty ... you're here," Brent yelled.

"Brent ... "was all he managed before they crashed together in an embrace.

"Oh God, we're both struck," Brent said.

Ty grinned and held up a piece of paper. "Yeah, but I have a hotel room."

The last time they had made love was at thirty thousand feet over the Eastern United States, and that was a rush job. Now they had all night, and room service to boot. Missing the party meant nothing to these two, they had their own.

Church bells rang in Littleton at the stroke of midnight; Barry Tolliver went out and fired his shotgun in New Bridge. The New Year had begun.

Classes resumed on the fourth this year, and everyone seemed happy. They should be, there had been no delays and there were only two days until the weekend. The shift to the new block of classes pleased some, bothered others. Adam was happy; he was out of trig for good. Red found out he had scored a ninety-three on his trig exam, which was an A at least ... barely.

The snow continued to plague the weekdays for a while, and cleared out on the weekends as if by magic. The boarders shoveled a lot of snow that winter, their least favorite challenge. But Thorne was a wise and crafty man; he offered free movie passes to anyone who worked.

Jessie spent all his spare time at the keyboard, practicing the music Wolfgang had told him to study. There was no way to predict at least one piece of music that the jury would ask to hear, that would be chosen at random. But he would prepare two selections of his own choosing and Jessie wanted to get that right.

"If you study the jury as you would your audiences it will give you a clue," Wolfgang said. "For instance, Billy grew up in New York; his taste in music runs a whole gamut from show tunes to modern classical. He is especially enamored of Leonard Bernstein."

Jessie laughed. "I am not playing a selection of tunes from West Side Story."

Wolfgang smiled. "No, that would not be appropriate, but do you know his classical work?"

"Unfamiliar."

"Bernstein was an eclectic composer, atonal works, complicated scores. I would not ask you to play his music, it's too difficult. But look at his influences in classical music. As the conductor of the Philharmonic he had to absorb the music of dozens of composers, Mahler, Shostakovich, and not the least of them, Beethoven. Billy is of the same mindset, he was Bernstein's friend ... and Lord knows what else."

"Goodness, I never knew. So my two choices are to present something technically difficult and then something grand, like Beethoven," Jessie said.

"Yes, now Miles, my assistant, teaches vocalists, he's the opera buff. If what you play is a composition with lyrics he will be singing them in his head. Loretta Gordon is a fine violinist; she will look at the technical side of your performances. So pick a Beethoven Sonata and play that Hungarian piece, which is technical enough to impress anyone."

"But I know that music by heart, where's the challenge in that?" Jessie asked.

"You just think you know them, now I'm going to disillusion you of that thinking."

And boy did he. They played for three days on the Beethoven alone and Wolfgang picked apart every nuance of Jessie's efforts. The fingering was wrong, the timing was off, and the notes were not to overlap like that ... it was a nightmare. And then Jessie changed what he was doing and Wolfgang began to praise him. It did sound better ... .damn near perfect. The Franz Liszt went through the same criticism.

"Brightly in that section, must you pound your way through that section so hard?" All comments Jessie endured until he thought he had it right. Wolfgang sat himself at the keyboard and demonstrated what he wanted. The Rhapsody Number Two had never sounded so good, it made Jessie blush at his clumsy interpretation.

"It's a love song, a fiery love song, not to a woman but to an ideal, the Hungarians are a passionate people. Resist the sustain pedal, it muddies the individual notes, use it sparingly. This is your technical piece, give each note it's due and you will be fine. Now go practice your fingering so it doesn't trip you up."

Two weeks later Jessie understood the quality that the Julliard jury expected and Wolfgang declared him ready. Neil and Jessie boarded the commuter flight to New York after kissing Nora good bye. They would have the day to relax; a quick dinner, and then tomorrow he would face the jury. Wolfgang reminded him to do some fingering exercises beforehand to warm up, and nothing else. And above all he said, remember to breathe.

Jessie spent the night in Neil's arms, the most relaxing place he could think of, and they had breakfast in the kitchen. The jury began at ten; they were there an hour early.

"Mr. Reardon, so nice to see you," Billy said, and Jessie smiled at the formality of it all. He was introduced to Miles and Loretta and they sat down to discuss the music he would play and why he had made the selections. Jessie performed the Beethoven first and then paused before beginning the Liszt. Then there was the sight reading to consider.

Jessie watched as Miles reached for a sheet of music and Billy removed his hand from the pile and selected another, handing it to Jessie. He didn't dare think about what he had seen, and then he saw what Billy had given him. It was the Bach in F minor, the very one that he and Martin had deconstructed in the summer workshop, Billy would have his way.

Jessie focused on the technical aspects and his fingering, giving the piece his best effort note for note. A challenge, Bach's piano music was not easy by any means, but then it was over and Jessie sat back to see if they had anything to say.

Loretta spoke first. "I believe the Liszt was technically as perfect as I have ever heard, such a difficult piece, you did very well."

"Thank you," Jessie said.

"The Bach was well read, but I'm not sure you're tempos were correct on the Beethoven, overall a good effort," Miles said.

"Thank you," Jessie said.

"I haven't heard the Beethoven played that well since Wolfgang performed it just like that on our stage," Billy said. Jessie caught the look of dismay on Miles' face and almost laughed.

"You have done well, good style, excellent technical work. You must have done a lot of preparation, and to me that's worthy of a Julliard student. We'll send you a confirmation in the mail, congratulations," Billy said.

"Thank you, sir," Jessie said, and he couldn't stop smiling.

Neil knew the minute he saw Jessie's face that things had gone well. "I'm in," Jessie said, and they went out to celebrate. Two weeks later Neil got his acceptance to NYU, and they went out to celebrate. And in New Bridge, Mike turned seventeen ... and of course, they went out to celebrate.

Gone was the little fur wrapped bundle that had appeared on his doorstep, but the young man that stood before him pleased Pat all the more. Maybe it was the exposure to a different lifestyle, but once Mike was out of his father's sphere of influence the boy blossomed into something really special. He was bright, he was clever, and he was everything Pat desired.

Pat was still designing software but Mike had taken over all the hardware issues. He really needed a computer tech school but Pat did his best to teach the boy what he knew, and the rest he found online. But even as the hulks of broken computer towers mounted up in his garage, Pat knew the boy would never want for work.

The new people in New Bridge were quite happy to find two experts to repair their aging computers; they had no competition unless you drove the eighty-six miles to Concord. Most of the issues were slow processors that locked up the operating system. Pat sold upgrades, Mike installed them. They were actually making a living on the work.

But one morning Pat went out to the garage to find something and looked in dismay at the pile of abandoned equipment, they needed more room. Mike agreed and said he would keep an eye open; maybe they could rent a space since business was doing so well.

The Alderson's had discovered that the location of their antiques market in New Bridge was on the fast track to becoming a booming business. More and more customers appeared at the door and they felt they needed more room, so they bought out the plumbing supply outfit next door.

Jonathan Briggs knew a good deal when he saw it and the Alderson's paid top dollar for his space. He felt like a winner, hell, you could sell plumbing supplies out of a garage, and that's exactly where he moved. Now the Aldersons stood in the middle of the huge space and realized they'd bitten off more than they could chew.

They were in the midst of pondering what to do when Mike brought them a few more antiques his god-mother had found in the attic, hopefully hers. Mr. Alderson had just finished knocking a doorway through the wall and was framing it out.

"Wow, now you have a ton of room," Mike exclaimed.

"Yup, probably too much," Alderson said. "I ought to lease some of it out to another business."

"How much would you need per month?" Mike asked.

Alderson laughed, knowing Mike all too well by now, the Tolliver reputation had spread fast. "Depends, you looking?"

"Might be, not that I can afford much ... are the utilities included?"

"Would be, but I'd have to pay to have the meter put in my name as the landlord. Out with it, Mike ... what kind of business are you opening?"

"Already have the business; I need the space for my computers."

"Oh, now there's an idea, you do repairs, right?" Alderson asked.

"Yes, Pat and I have been real busy since last summer."

"Good, you have an adult involved, Pat's a smart man. So you go talk to him, maybe we can reach a deal for the rent."

"Deal? Like what?"

"Inventory, accounting, taxes ... I really need all that stuff computerized so I can lay my hands on the details. We have too much stuff and half the time I can't find what a customer wants."

"Interested in a website? Sales worldwide if you reach the right customers," Mike said.

Alderson laughed. "Somehow I see you getting the space for next to nothing, bring Pat to see me and we'll make a deal."

And so T & S Computers was born that spring, and Pat got his garage back. When spring finally arrived Pat started riding a bicycle to work. It was good exercise and with all that fresh air he never felt better, even if it was only three miles from home. And to make matters sweeter, the local phone company was taken over by the mega-giant AT & T, now there was DSL throughout the area.

The advent of spring brought energy into the lives of the Bradford boys, they could finally play outdoors. But to some spring meant that graduation was only a few months away, and that was exactly what Jessie and Neil were thinking.

"New York, we're really gonna take the plunge," Neil said.

"Will you miss all this?" Jessie asked, sweeping a hand out across the campus.

"This has been our home, babe. Our friends are here, and not just the students." He sighed. "But I suppose graduation is a sign of growth, at least we'll be together."

Jessie slid his arm through Neil's. "I couldn't do it alone, I wouldn't want to."

"I'll miss Elias most, what a genuinely sweet man. Bradford is very lucky to have him," Neil said. "Because of him I will teach someday, but it will have to be a very special school."

"Tom opened the door for me to Julliard; I can never forget what he did for me. Oh, did you hear about Dr. Thorne's idea?"

"About what?" Neil asked.

"Finals. Every boy in the class has been accepted to college already, he wants to do away with finals."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope, he wants to give us an intercession week instead. Each faculty member will give us a grade based upon our previous work, there will be no exams," Jessie said.

"He can do that? Of course he can, he's the headmaster, he makes the rules," Neil said. "Um ... what exactly does he mean by intercession?"

"I haven't any idea," Jessie said.

But by the first week of April they found out, Thorne called a meeting of the senior class. All thirty-two boys left the campus and walked up the street to the Friends Meeting house. And as they took their seats, there before them was a map of the campus.

"Good Afternoon, Gentlemen ... thank you for coming. I suppose by now the rumor has spread, but I am here to confirm what you may doubt. There will be no exams for seniors this year."

Thorne smiled at the buzz that went around the room. "You know this Friends Meeting was established two hundred and eighty-six years ago, although this building was not here back then. The small handful of Littleton Friends gathered in a barn in those days. They had faced certain persecution not too many years before, they were still afraid. And now look what we have become.

"I do not speak from pride, just recounting history. For pride is a horrible un-truth in which one man holds himself to be better than another. We are all alike in our lives; we have no reason to think we are better because of our beliefs. I think each of you believed it necessary to study hard and become such fine young men, and in that you may be proud of your accomplishment.

"Do not think that because I have suspended exams that you are any better than your fellow students who will work hard and endure weeks of study for what you all call Manic Monday, Terrible Tuesday and Wacky Wednesday."

The students laughed. "Oh yes, it is a tradition that binds you to make those names stick and it is a tradition for headmasters to know what you think. But we are here because I didn't want any prying ears to hear what I am about to say."

"In my seventeen years at Bradford I have never seen a better class than this one. As individuals you have all earned our respect for what you have done for yourselves and for others. Not only are your GPA's higher but your college acceptance level has been one hundred percent, and that is astounding."

Thorne walked across the front of the seated boys and turned to look at them all. "In this you have earned the right to miss finals, you don't need them, we already know who you are. The faculty will give you a number grade based upon your semester's work, and I am assured it will be outstanding.

"Now having said all this, I was wondering what to do with all of you to keep you from becoming a distraction to the others. For no greater crime will occur than for a senior to interfere with an underclassman's exams. I had a suggestion that there might be room at the jailhouse that week ... " That brought laughter. "But I was afraid they might learn some bad habits from you gentlemen." Even more laughter.

"Joking aside we have come up with a plan to keep you busy. And before you groan just let me say it will be something that will immortalize this class for others who follow in your footsteps, we are going to build walkways."

He held up the map of the campus which showed the placement of the buildings and the current walkways. Marked in red were the plans for the new walkways that ran from the barn like meeting room to the woodshops and art rooms at the rear of the campus.

"Five hundred and twenty feet of concrete, gentlemen, and this is how it will develop. On Monday we will clear the path and install the forms. On Tuesday we will pour the concrete and finish the surfaces, and on Wednesday we will remove the forms and clean up our work zones." He smiled. "There will plenty of adult supervision; we have a construction crew ready to assist you as needed."

Thorne folded the map. "You may discuss this with your schoolmates, but the location of the work will be away from the exam rooms, they will not be aware of your work until it is done. I expect you will wear proper working clothes; I have some old shirts for those of you who lack such gear. In all you will forever bind yourselves to the school with your effort, and we will be grateful for the improvement. A show of hands, are we agreed?"

Thirty-two hands went up, they had consensus. The boys laughed and talked on the walk back to the campus. "This is a crazy way to end the year, I like it," Neil said.

"Leave it to Thorne to be creative. I don't imagine there is one boy in the class that knows anything about concrete," Jessie said.

"Sand, rocks, cement ... and water, how hard is that?" Neil asked.

"I sure hope we don't have to mix it, that stuff is heavy."

"It will come in trucks, I'm sure. Just be sure to add concrete finisher to your resume," Neil laughed.

"Oh yeah, that will look good. We'll need work gloves."

The materials arrived the week before exams and several of the seniors went ahead and began laying out the stakes for the forms. The work ethic seemed to spread from there as other seniors arrived and began to level the path between the stakes; everyone wanted a jump on the project.

It was one week before graduation when the seniors had their final meeting in the cafeteria. Elias was there, as were several faculty members; Thorne sat to one side and gave the floor to his Dean of Faculty.

"We are here today for several reasons," Elias began. "First the faculty would like to commend you all for all these years of hard work, you have performed a mighty task and all you get is a crummy piece of paper for your efforts."

The students all laughed before Elias raised a hand. "I am also here for serious business, for you have spoken as one voice and the faculty concurs. I am proud to announce that the valedictorian chosen by this class to speak at graduation is ... " And here Elias gave a warm and grateful smile, "Neil Dennison."

The seniors stood as one body and applauded while Neil sat stunned. He had voted for Jessie of course, he had no idea that the class wanted him. There were calls around the room to him, "Speech ... Speech." And Neil stood up. He looked around at all his fellows; friends, classmates, and then he looked down at Jessie's adoring face.

"I am ... Oh Lord, I don't know what to say."

"You better write us a darn good speech for graduation," Dennis Pickett called from across the room.

Neil nodded. "Yes, I need to speak for you all. Do I get graded?" He laughed.

"Too late for that," came from the back of the room, and there was more laughter.

Neil stopped and stared at the floor, gathering his thoughts before he looked up. "I will give you my best, for this place means so much to me. We will leave a footprint here, a timeless reminder that we have trod these halls. And in time our efforts will blend with these walls and we will become legend."

He was warming up now and Elias could see the gleam of emotion in his eyes. What a fine young man, the finest. These boys had chosen well, Neil was their leader in many ways.

"Bradford will go on building minds even as we build walkways before going out to seek our futures. Each and every one of us will never forget this beginning, for here we learned how to make our search successful. I will always be glad to stand up and say I graduated from Bradford."

Neil turned to look at the faculty and Dr. Thorne. "I will always be glad to say I learned great things from my teachers ... my mentors ... my friends. This is the greatest time of my life, all of us are grateful for your compassion and your hard work. I will remember you, each and every one of you. Thank you." And with that Neil sat down.

There was silence in the room, each and every boy thinking about what Neil had said. After a few minutes Elias stood back up. "There will be a brief graduation rehearsal at three o'clock on Wednesday in the theatre building. You will be expected to be here on Thursday at noon for the Senior Lunch, graduation will begin at two o'clock. Thank you all for coming."

Neil got up and went over to shake the hands of the faculty members as they stood up to leave; he went down the line and said something to each, followed by Jessie. And soon each of the senior boys followed in an impromptu reception line. Dr. Thorne stood and smiled at each boy, seeing the genuine gratitude in their eyes. Yes, these boys were exceptional, he would be sad when they left.


On to Chapter Seventeen

Back to Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Index

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"Seasons for the Boy" Copyright © 13 April 2009 Chris James. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

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