With almost all the clothes he regularly wore at Ivan's, after four years, Clay has to pack there. This creates problems because Ivan is in the way and Clay can't finish packing, but without Ivan, Clay wouldn't have been able to close his suitcase.

There is being in the way and than there's being handy. Clay has never objected to Ivan being handy. It's why they are still together after how many ever years its been. Now that he can close his suitcase, Clay can give all his attention to Ivan.

Ivan rested his forehead against Clay's forehead. His dark eyes examined Clay's baby blues. He felt overwhelmed to be so in love with another human being. This minute made his life worthwhile.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you, Babe?" Ivan said.

"Talk is cheap, Big Boy. Don't tell me. Show me," Clay said in a low sensual voice.

"But I should do some work sometime today, shouldn't I?" Ivan teased.

"You and your mathematically precise mind better be here when I come home, Buster," Clay said before kissing him again.

"I'll be where you leave me tomorrow when you return."

"I'll miss you none-the-less," Clay said, resting the side of his face on Ivan's face.

"You'll have no time to miss me. Bill will keep you plenty busy. When you aren't working, you'll be talking about your work. I'll miss you but I know this is something you need to do. It's a natural progression. You need to leave the Gulf to gain a better perspective on the Gulf. I know that and I've got plenty to keep me busy here." "I know all that's true. I wish I could do it without leaving you."

"But you will because it's necessary. You'll have a million things on your mind out there. You'll be better for the experience, Babe. I wish I could go. Sounds like the mother of all adventures."

"Why don't you come with us. Bill wouldn't mind," Clay said.

"Can't, Babe. I'm building something here for our future. I need to take care of business. I need to plan activities for the guests. I can't leave Tag to do work I should be doing. He could do it but I need to be here. We're in the middle of creating a special place where campers are made to feel welcome and the activities provided will make this the least complicated and most enjoyable vacation ever for people caught in complicated lives. Here they'll be able to forget their cares and woes for a few days before returning to the rat race."

"That would make a nice song. Forget your cares and woes and come along with me," Clay said, looking at Ivan's face.

"I'd love nothing more," Ivan said. "But this is the real world."

"I know, Ivan. It would be nice to be going together."

"We'll do it sometime in the future. That's a promise. The little bit of discomfort we experience will pale in comparison to what we accomplish by being separated for a few weeks. You as a scientist and me as an entrepreneur. Our lives will be better because of it."

"You're right. Now we need to go to bed," Clay said.

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon, Babe," Ivan said.

"You've never worried about the time before," Clay said.

Dragging Ivan onto the bed with him, Clay shoved the suitcase to one side. using arms and legs to lock themselves together.

Kisses lingered as they understood how long it would be before they were in each other's arms again.

Today, their love was the most important thing and tomorrow they'd go about their business.

As they worked themselves into a more comfortable position, the suitcase rolled off the bed, turning upside down as it did so, and opening in the process, its contents spilled onto the floor. The quilt, top sheet, and pillows followed, not to mention their clothes and that third pair of shoes.

It was hot and humid. There wasn't a breath of air inside the room. It was June. June could get hot. June's heat was mild compared the heat generated in that big feather bed. Heat was no big thing the way Clay and Ivan become lost in love.

As the sun was lowering in the western sky a soft breeze ruffled the fine white curtains until they blew into the room with an ever so slight coolness in the air. Clay and Ivan laid together. Their love making never ended it waned and peaked until hunger or a need to pee got one or the other of them up.

Today neither of them left the bed and when they weren't in a full embrace their fingers intertwined as thoughts lingered and the possibility of something else entering their world would break the spell sooner or later. There was always something to do.

It was the last day they'd be able to spend the hours expressing their love. It had grown larger as time passed. It was a better and more mature love they shared these days. Dylan was at the center of both of their lives, but he was the cherry on top of love that had no end or limit.

Today, they couldn't let go. They planned nothing in order to be together. Tag understood and he was manning the Dive Shop. Dylan was familiar with how his fathers felt about each other. Along with their fussing and disagreements came the need to be close. It hadn't always been that way but that's how it was these days, and on their last full day together for some time, their kid knew to get lost and let them have the time they needed.

Tomorrow would be hectic. It was five hours to Miami. They'd need to be on the road early for the three o'clock flight.

It was unusual for the phone not to ring, no one came calling, and not one crisis erupted to make them get up. The time belonged to them and they made the most of it. The only thing on the schedule for the last full day together was dinner and Mama fixed a feast for her men who would be gone for some time.

Ivan told Tag, "Don't call me unless the cove catches fire."

"You know what, Ivan?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask, Babe."

"If I hadn't fallen in love with you all those years ago, I'd fall in love with you all over again. You are still the only man who can take my breath away. There have been times when I didn't like you very much but I always loved you, since the first day i saw you."

There was nothing for Ivan to say. He kissed Clay with a passion they were always able to generate. Being completely in love with someone was as good as life got and they were still completely in love twenty years later. It was a love destined to last for a lifetime.

With those thoughts, they were able to part long enough to go to dinner at the Olson's house. Mama was delighted when Ivan came to dinner. She invited him to come to dinner as often as he could while her boys were away. He'd help fill the empty chairs and eat the feasts Mama made.

Ivan agreed to come to dinner as often as time allowed.

Clay and Ivan sat side by side, holding hands under the table. Lucy and Dylan sat facing them and the talking was easy and the food, well, no one at Mama's table ever went away hungry.

It was one more thing to be missed. Mama was the best cook around the cove. An invitation to eat at Mama's table was worth a couple of pounds, and that's before she brought out the desserts.

For Clay and Dylan it was their final dinner at the Conservancy house for a while and Mama went all out.

Ivan was up hours before they had to leave. He couldn't sleep, and brewing coffee sounded like a good plan, and the smell woke Clay, from a restless sleep.

Clay wanted to sit with Ivan and drink coffee. He wanted to enjoy a few minutes of relaxation, before the rush to Miami was on. Once Clay stepped out on the deck, he found Ivan reading Time magazine. Ivan read Time to avoid the local newspapers that were lacking news of the real world.

Ivan went to get a cup of steaming hot coffee as soon as he saw Clay. He sat back down and picked up Time from the railing. He began to read again. He liked having time to read before he picked up the trash at the campsites. Once his day began there would be little time for reading.

"You could have slept in, Babe. I've got to go empty the trash."

"No, I couldn't. I didn't sleep very well. Gives us a little more time together. I might lay down after you go but wake me up as soon as you come back. We'll need to leave early."

"Will do, Babe," Ivan said.

Clay liked to stand at the railing and look out over the Gulf as the first rays of sunlight glittered on the green water. As dawn broke, the Gulf's color came alive on light from a slowly rising sun.

"How many dead?" Clay asked.

Ivan could hear the ripples from the tiny Gulf waves washing against the shore. It was often placid the first thing each morning.

"They still aren't giving numbers. I don't know why. I don't think they have the numbers. They don't seem to have much information and what they do have they release in drips and drabs," Ivan said. "Gives new meaning to the word indifference."

"I read that clusters of gay men were dying all over the country. I found that in a Tampa paper. The column was an inch in length. 'Clusters of gay men are dying.' How many gay men are there in one cluster, Ivan?" Clay asked annoyed by the silence on a deadly disease.

"Babe, I'm not responsible. Don't get angry with me. I don't know any more than you do. The story isn't reported." Ivan said.

"Why is that?" Clay asked, wanting confirmation.

"I suspect because no one cares about gay men dying."

"I care and I want to know how many of us have died. Is that too damn much to ask? They count everything. Certainly they can count the bodies of gay men. I want a number."

"I don't think anyone knows the actual number of dead. No one is counting dead gay men," Ivan said sadly.

"Because we're gay men?" Clay asked.

"Because we are gay men."

They both drank coffee. Clay watched the Gulf. Ivan read.

"Says here, "Gay men are dying at alarming rates in New York City, L.A. and San Francisco. They are dying of diseases that aren't considered fatal. Doctors suspect that something is retarding the immune systems of the dying men. Doctors aren't sure how to combat what is a new disease," Ivan read. "Word for word it's the same thing they said last week. They don't name any doctors."

"Because it is primarily gay men dying from the disease, there is little interest in knowing what causes it," a doctor at John Hopkins said, after asking to remain anonymous."

"Anyone who acts like they care in the least gets the same hateful treatment as we do," Clay said.

"It's a disease. How can they not want to know the cause?"

"Babe, you are using logic to explain craziness. As long as it is killing the people everyone wants dead, they don't mind so much. When it kills one of them, they might do something," Ivan explained. "It's a psychosis the ruling class has always applied to the proletariat."

Clay got very quiet. He didn't leave the railing for some time. He often lost himself in thought while it was early.

He turned toward Ivan to look at his man. Sitting beside him, he took Ivan's hand and held it to his chest.

"I need that hand to turn the page, Babe," he said.

"Coffee is excellent," Clay said kissing the back of his hand. "Thank you. I'll miss morning coffee with you."

"You will not. You'll be gabbing away with bill and half a dozen studs that work on that ship of his. The coffee won't be prepared with the care I take to prepare it exactly the way you like it, but it'll do."

"You think those crew members will be handsome," Clay asked in jest.

"If any of them are handsome, I'll go and give them what for," Ivan said. "After I pick up the trash of course."

Clay watched Ivan's lips moving while he read. HE leaned to kiss his cheek.

"Says here, the preachers are singing Hosannas while dancing on the graves of the dead. How many Hosannas in a cluster?"

"What would Jesus say?" Clay asked. "Mama would have a coronary if she read that."

"Says right here, "They're calling it God's plague on the gay. The Reverend Jerry Falwell said, "It's the gay plague. You can't mock God and not expect to be punished.""

"They don't say that," Clay said. "Who's mocking God?"

Ivan held out the magazine with his finger marking the quote.

"I'll be damned," Clay said. "He did say that. Who is he? I've never heard of him."

"Moral Majority guy," Ivan said.

"That's not moral and those people are only a majority in their own minds," Clay said angrily.

"According to old Jerry, you're already damned, Sweety Pie."

"He doesn't believe that. He's making it up as he goes along. No one believes God sends a disease to punish us," Clay said. "A disease develops somewhere in nature. The cure will come from a scientific investigation of the disease," Clay explained. "They need to study it if they expect to stop it. It isn't going to kill only gay men. I can tell you that without knowing a thing about it. A disease has no sexuality. A disease is opportunistic. It strikes where it can to perpetuate itself.."

"This has been fun. I'd love to discuss the secrets of the universe with you but I've got trash to collect. Our campers are going to expect me to pick up yesterdays trash before they start making today's trash," Ivan said. "Dylan is out in front of your house wondering where I am. He wants to go with me because he's leaving. I'll let him drive the trash buggy today,"

"He'll love that," Clay said. "Do you think he's ready to drive?"

"Worrywart. I was driving my grandfather's car before I was tall enough to see over the steering wheel. Dylan knows how to drive the trash buggy."

"Yeah. You're right," Clay said.

"Don't look so sad. One thing is for certain, nothing will change while you're gone. This thing will still be running rampant and the ignorant among us aren't going anywhere. They wouldn't give us the satisfaction."

"Don't try to cheer me up. It pisses me off," Clay said. "When did people become so hateful? What do they get out of hating us? They call this civilization. I've got words that fit these fucking Neanderthal who think this shit up. Civilized ain't even close."

"They'd love for all of us to died, Babe. They hate that we aren't cooperating," Ivan said. "I won't be a bit of help there. I plan to live to be a hundred just to piss the assholes off.."

Ivan leaned to kiss Clay's cheek.

"Later, Gator," he said.

As Ivan went through the curtains, he left Clay reading Time and muttering to himself, 'Assholes.'

The Miami airport was on the other side of the state. Tampa was closer, but Miami had a direct flight to San Francisco, that arrived in the city in the middle of the afternoon California time.

After hugs and kisses that the other passengers at the gate didn't miss, Clay and Dylan headed for the line waiting to board. Dylan turned back toward Ivan and said in a stern voice, "Daddy-O, you better still be here when I get back."

"Daddy-O," Clay said. "Same as what he said."

Ivan laughed.

"You two be careful out there. I don't want any arms or legs missing when you come home," Ivan said, tears in his eyes.

Both Clay and Dylan laughed.

Clay could think of other things he wanted to say. He wouldn't say them in public. His love for Ivan was a private affair and not for the faint of heart.

Once Clay and Dylan disappeared through the door to the United Airlines flight, Ivan moved to the big windows overlooking the runways. He could watch their plane leaving the gate. He looked into the plane's windows trying to find Clay and Dylan. He didn't see them.

The plane taxied toward the longest runway. It stopped and sat just before it came to the runway it would take. After a few minutes they plane began to roll. It made a hard left turn to get into the proper position. The brakes struggled to hold the plane in place as the engines roared with power. The pilot released the brakes and the plane started to roll faster and faster until it lifted into the air gaining speed and altitude. The plane flew higher and higher as it flew directly out over the Atlantic Ocean. It got smaller and smaller.

Ivan hoped they didn't end up in London.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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