Nights in White Satin

[ChrisGibson]

AS OUR FRIENDS GET READY FOR PURIM, CHAYNE GETS A SURPRISE....



“A Purim party?” Rob said.
“Yes, a Purim party,” Brad said.
“What’s a Purim?”
“Purim is the early springtime Festival of Lots, the festival of turnabout that revolves around the Book of Esther,” Anigel said.
Rob blinked at her.
“What? I know shit.”
“People dress in costumes,” Cody said. “And there’s candy and it’s sort of like a cross between Halloween and Easter. Easter…. Esther.”
“Ishtar,” Anigel said. “It’s a Goddess thing.”
“You should tell the rabbi that when you meet him.”
“I won’t.” Anigel said.
“Speaking of I won’t,” Anigel turned to Cameron, “I won’t wear a costume.”
“I don’t blame you,” Jill said. “I’ll be wearing this.” she pointed to her floral print.
“Oh, baby,” Shane hooked an arm around her waist, “we could go as Dracula and his wife, or the Frankenstein and the Bride. Something like that.”
“It’s like Halloween,” Nehru said. “It isn’t actually Halloween.”
“It’s actually,” Anigel said, quietly, “a religious festival, so you might want to be something else.”
“I’m going to go as me,” Cameron insisted.
“I don’t even know how to dress for a religious Halloween,” Brad murmured.
“I know,” Nehru said, “Why don’t you go as the lead guitarist in a band being paid a lot of money to come as they are?”



While Cody sat on the toilet lid waiting for him to rise above the waterline of the tub, Russell blew bubbles under the water before lifting his head above it and, his red hair plastered to his head, he said, “I don’t want to go to a fucking party.”
“Everyone is expecting you ,and frankly, everyone, including me, is tired of you being in a slump.”
“You know why I am this way.”
“True, and we can’t change things so let’s be as happy as we can.”
“I’m not going,” Russell said.
“You’re going.”
“I’m not” Russell shouted, as Cody left the bathroom.
As Cody closed the door behind him, Patti, in the hallway, said, “Brotherly fight?”
“I guess, Patti,” Cody said. “I’ve never had a brother.”
“Russell’s just being a teenager,” Patti said.
“There’s a party. We’re all going.”
“That’s great,” Patti said, as Cody opened the closet door for her and she began stacking the towels in the cupboard.
“But Russell isn’t.”
“Whaddo you mean?”
“I told him let’s go, and he’s like no.”
“Oh?” Patti raised an eyebrow. “Hold on.”
She stacked the last of the hand towels and went into the bathroom.
“What the—!” Russell shouted.
“Russell, get your ass up. You’re going with your friends to this party.”
As Patti shut the door behind her, Cody could hear Russell murmur, “I need to lock that damn door in the future.”



“You know, I suppose I’m not that surprised,” Marissa said, after a while.
She didn’t look upset. She looked philosophical.
“Does he make you happy?”
“Nehru?” Brad said. “Yes.”
“Good,” Marissa said. “You’re a good man, you know?”
“I don’t know about all that,” Brad said. “Sometimes I think I’m a stupid man. I’m kind of a fool.”
“You always try to do the right thing,” Marissa said, touching her stomach which had begun to round not long ago. “It’s not a lot of men who do. Not a lot of people who do. Our baby could do worse for a father. And a father… who’s going to have a boyfriend. How twenty-first century. Our baby won’t be some stupid rube. He’ll have some exposure.”
“And with Hale.”
Marissa looked at Brad. Brad had not been sure if he should mention Hale or not.
“Yes,” Marissa said. “And he looks like he’s sticking around. No this’ll be a cultured baby. Speaking of Hale?”
“Yes?”
“He asked me to come with you all to the Purim party.”
“Really?”
“If that isn’t a problem?”
“If that’s a problem, then how are we ever going to be a family?”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
Then Marissa said, “The other day, when I was in the Noble Red, Anigel was talking to this sad girl. Pretty, blond, a cheerleader type.”
“She is a cheerleader. She’s Cameron.”
“You used to tutor her.”
“Yeah. Her home life has sort of blown up.”
Brad said in a whisper, as if in Marissa;s house they could be heard, “Actually, it’s always been kind of bad. Her mother’s a real…. Well, she’s not a real mother. In my humble man’s opinion, she needs all the girlfriends and mothers she can get. She deserves it.”
“Well,” Marissa said, “I can’t be promise to be her mother, but I can try to be a human when I see her.”





“Well. Now we’re swingers!”
“Nehru,” Brad said, “if I’ve told you once, I’ve told like a million times. A swinger is—”
“Why do you indulge him?” Robin demanded as they climbed out of the van, “you know he does that just so you can say something.”
“This building,” Marissa declared as they stood in the parking lot, “is not what I wanted a synagogue to be.”
She had seen pictures of old synagogues in New York or Chicago, and hoped that this might be one like that, but every synagogue she’d seen in her real life looked a little bit like a rec center, and this did as well.
“Well, thankfully, it isn’t the synagogue,” Brad told Marissa, hopping out of the van and kissing her. “This, in fact, is the social hall. That right there,” he said, pointing to the back of an old, tall, wide brick building, “is the synagogue.”
“Are we going to get to go in it. No I got that.”
Marissa and brad were struggling over who would carry the three cardboard boxes full of music and miscellaneous material and b=Brad said, “But you’re having a baby.’
“Not today, I’m not. I’m hardly showing. Give me that box, you big moron.”
Nehru, Hale Weathertop and Shane were already walking toward the open back door, across the semi filled parking lot, when Marissa looked to her left at what, from the angle she could see, just looked like the back of a theatre.
“Do we get to go inside?” she asked again.
“I wasn’t going to,” Brad said. He looked up at the early March sky that was streaked with red and orange.
As they entered the hall, a middle aged guy who looked like a repair man said, “Ah, thanks you guys for coming. I know you probably wanna practice, but if you want, in about an hour or so we’re gonna have arvit.”
Marissa looked around the hall where tables were set up and some food was laid out under covers. Streamers were hung and there were signs in Hebrew.
“Is arvit in the synagogue?” Marissa asked.
The man looked puzzled and Nehru, in his snug jeans and snug tee shit hopped off the stage.
“Arvit is the evening prayer service,” he said.
“Oh, thank you so much,” Brad began, “but—”
“We would absolutely love to be there,” said Marissa.


“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Marissa asked Chayne?
“I think I’m just going to treasure a quiet evening at home,” Chayne said.
Anigel, who had heard, said, “Chayne, do you ever want to get rid of us?”
“If I do, I’ll never tell,” Chayne said. “ You all have a good time, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Chayne felt more elated than he was willing to admit about having his own house to himself for a night, and as much as he loved Rob, he was even glad for the absence of him, or not so much his absence as the expanding presence that happened when you lived alone and were used to doing so. Chayne reflected that people always acted as if being single was a flaw and finding someone willing to live with you was the proof of one’s worth, but he had loved being single, and he loved to still be single, to pause long enough and feel the solitary state of his nature, to feel… alone.
Caffeine had little effect on him anymore. He had put on a pot, made a cup and was nearly all the way through it, half asleep, when there was a knock on the door.
“Fuck,” Chayne murmured, and pushed himself out of his chair before another knock would come. This first knock may have been a figment of his mind, or a branch tapping the house walls it was so gentle. And where others would be pounding, no other knock had been heard, so Chayne began to hope that he was imagining this one, but when he opened the door, he blinked and blinked and his mouth, suddenly dry, could not catch up with his mind, and his mind could not catch up with his eyes.
“Chayne. It’s good to see you. Can I come in?”
Before him, in jeans and a tech vest, looking simultaneously Jewish and outdoorsy, was Ted Weirbach.

TOMORROW NIGHT.... MASTER OF ALL SORROWS

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion and Chayne certainly got a big surprise! I was definitely not expecting that. Russell is grumpy, typical for a teenager. He has been through a bit and hopefully he has a good night out despite that. Marissa is really understanding and kind of great in my opinion. I am glad she is accepting if Brad and Nehru. Excellent writing and I look forward to Master Of All Sorrows tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Russell's certainly being his best teenage self, Flipper and all of this confusing sex life doesn't help. Marissa has proven to be a real adult, and there are some rupsies coming up regarding her. Meanwhile, Chayne certainly certainly gets one hell of a surprise.

 

[ChrisGibson]

THINGS WERE ALMOST NORMAL.... THEN CAME THE NIGHT OF THE PURIM PARTY


“I thought about calling,” Ted said, as he sat, grasshopper like, legs wide apart on one end of the sofa, rubbing his hands slowly while Chayne brought him a cup of coffee.
“And then I thought of writing. I even wanted to send you pictures. But I thought I’d left in such a bad way…”
“You left because you had to,” Chayne said in a voice that was so neutral there was no reading it. He took his blanket, which was in the middle of the sofa, wrapped it around himself, and burrowed back into the corner.
“But you know it wasn’t right. I should have said something earlier. I was afraid when I knew I had to go. And I had never really been in a relationship before. I just did things so badly.”
“That’s true,” Chayne said. “You did.
“So why are you here?”
“I’m here for a couple of days. I got a room. I was visiting my folks. And… You. I mean, if you wanted to see me. I told them I was coming tomorrow.”
“You came a day early? For me?”
“I can tell you’re still angry.”
“I’m not angry. I’m cautious.”
Ted nodded.
Ted was the sort of person who, not always to his benefit or the benefit of others, never stopped being gentle. Sex had been something he loved, for sure, and something he was good at, but it might be long stretches of time before it happened, and his attempts at naughty talk were a disaster where Chayne would simply put two fingers to his lips to shut him up, and he would giggle. In the midst of fucking Chayne’s mouth, he would said, “It’s alright, you like it, right? Do I taste alright? I’m going to come? Where should I come? Are you sure? Is it alright?”
Chayne loved Ted Weirbach’s gentleness, his kindergarten teacherliness, the tenderness of his large hands and the weight of his long six foot, two hundred pound body, his broad chest, his shyly averting blue eyes and the fire that came to them. It had been hard to put him away, and now here he was.
“You’re not alone?” Ted scanned the room.
“No. A few people live here.”
“Russell?”
“He’s back with his parents. For good.”
“Uh… you’ve got someone, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Chayne said, but was aware of how long it had taken him to say it.



Mark, Gilead, Cameron and Russell had been traveling behind Anigel, Rob, Cody and Jill who had, in turn, been traveling behind Brad’s band. They stopped an hour north of town at a gas station where Jill said she was hungry. Anigel agreed and Cody replied that time was of the essence, and Jill, who was only half dressed in her Purim costume, had said, “It’s of the essence for you.”
It was just as Chili Comet Sundae was finishing up practice and arguing about going to this arvit business as Brad called it, that the back door opened and a sexy devil with horns and a red and purple pitchfork burst in, singing, “Mazel Tov, bitches!”
“Really?” Marissa, the only person not on stage, said.
“Baaay…..beee,” Shane murmured.
“Do I look hot?”
“Is she going to hell for this?” Cameron wondered.
“I don’t think there is a Jewish hell,” Nehru said, putting the microphone back in its holder, “but I’m going to arvit.”
“Oh, wait for me,” Marissa said. “Come’on, Brad.”
Brad grimaced, looking distinctly uninterested in religion.
As they were heading to the back door, Mark and Gilead were coming in with Russell, and Marissa hooked her arm through Russell’s and said, “We’re going next door, Turn around boys, we’re about to see a real live synagogue.”
Mark just looked at Gilead and smirked.
“When we’re traveling in Chicago, and you take the Red Line up to north Chicago on the El, there is this theatre you pass called the Aragon,” Nehru said as they walked in the space between the social hall and the synagogue.
“You see the front real quickly, but you see the sides and I’m looking at this and feeling like when we get to the front, we’re going to see the Aragon.”
“The Aragon’s beautiful,” Marissa said, “I’d love it if this place had the front of the Aragon.”
“Where are we anyway?” Anigel asked.
“About halfway between Geschichte Falls and Walter,” Brad said.
“It’s a nice little place, nice apartments across the street. Not a bad place to settle.”
But the front was not like the Aragon. Even in the faint light, they could see orange brown and red polychrome brick work. High up was a large rose window as in a church, but cut into geometric shapes and Stars of David. And it resembled a mosque a little with minarets and a dome. There was a row of three great red doors under keyhole arches that led into the sactuary between two domed turrets and Marissa murmured, This is beautiful. This is just beautiful.”
They were not the only ones entering, and to Anigel, they were not the only ones who looked a little confused. There was a little vestibule, like in a church, and a glass door leading to the sanctuary.
“Just follow Nehru’s lead,” Rob said, and the men went to the skull caps that were in a basket on a table by the sanctuary door.
Inside Jill said, “I feel overdressed. Or underdressed. I can’t say.”
“Maybe,” Shane suggested, “you should have left your pitchfork in the hall.
She was not the only person in a costume, though. There were several wizards and not a few Old Testament heroes. Jewish Bible heroes, Brad corrected himself. Beyond this carpeted lobby, as in a church vestibule, there were doors and through the doors he could see a rich sanctuary hung with lanterns and what he thought of as the altar with a man in a shawl before it, and behind him, where the sanctuary would be was…. A sanctuary, all gold filigree with a Star of David over it and then a hanging lantern before it.
“You’ll tell me everything I should know later, right?” Gilead said to Mark and Mark realized Gilead was excited.
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you before,” Mark said. “I just thought it wasn’t important.”
“It’s important to you, right?”
“Right?” Mark said.
“Then of course it’s important to me.”
“Well, you know how that’s the altar in a church?” Mark said, taking Gilead by the hand and walking him in ahead of everyone else, “Here, it’s called a bema.”
“Which actually comes from the old word bama. Which was an altar,” Anigel said.
They both looked at her.
“I read,” she said.
At the bema, the man in the white shawl, the chazzan in his tallis, Gilead tried in his mind, was singing.

“Ya'aleh v'yavo v'yagi'a
v'yera'eh v'yeratzeh v'yishama v'yipaked
v'yizacher
zichroneinu ufikdoneinu
v'zichron avoteinu
v'zichron Mashiach ben David avdecha
v'zichron Yerushalayim ir kodshecha
v'zichron kol am'cha Beit Yisrael l'fanecha lifleita l'tova.”

The seats were like church pews, but diagnoal, facing the center, and Anigel, Cameron, Gilead, Mark and the rest filled into one of the back rows, looking up to see balconies surrounding them. The whole pillared sanctuary was filled with the chazzan’s voice as, outside, the last of the sunlight went into evening and while some, including Mark, hummed along with uncertainty, Nehru boldly sang:

“Ya'aleh v'yavo v'yagi'a
v'yera'eh v'yeratzeh v'yishama
v'yipaked
v'yizacher
zichroneinu ufikdoneinu
v'zichron avoteinu!”


Others were coming to sit down, and most were already seated when the congregation began to rise and the chazzan called out:

“Ba-r'chu et A-do-nai ha-m'vo-rach.”

And Gilead, quick to catch up, and Russell, quick to sing, to Mark’s surprise replied:

“Ba-ruch A-do-nai ha-m'vo-rach l'o-lam va'ed.”



Nehru was sharing a prayer book with Anigel, and Gilead and Mark each had their own, as did Russell. Marissa opened hers, fumbling a bit before, deftly, Nehru reached past Brad and thumbed to the page for both of them. The book went from back to front and Marissa remembered hearing this a long time ago and felt a little foolish for forgetting while the chazzan chanted, and she looked on the elegant and illegible letters before her.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלקֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעולָם אֲשֶׁר בִּדְבָרו מַעֲרִיב עֲרָבִים. בְּחָכְמָה פּותֵחַ שְׁעָרִים, וּבִתְבוּנָה מְשַׁנֶּה עִתִּים וּמַחֲלִיף אֶת הַזְּמַנִּים, וּמְסַדֵּר אֶת הַכּוכָבִים בְּמִשְׁמְרותֵיהֶם בָּרָקִיעַ כִּרְצונו. בּורֵא יום וָלָיְלָה, גּולֵל אור מִפְּנֵי חשֶׁךְ וְחשֶׁךְ מִפְּנֵי אור. וּמַעֲבִיר יום וּמֵבִיא לָיְלָה, וּמַבְדִּיל בֵּין יום וּבֵין לָיְלָה. יי צְבָאות שְׁמו: אֵל חַי וְקַיָּם תָּמִיד יִמְלוךְ עָלֵינוּ לְעולָם וָעֶד. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי, הַמַּעֲרִיב עֲרָבִים.
“Ba-ruch a-ta A-do-nai,” the chazzan sang, as Marissa’s eyes moved to find the words,

“Ba-ruch a-ta A-do-nai, E-lo-hei-nu me-lech ha-o-lam,
a-sher bid'varo ma-a-riv a-ra-vim.
B'chawch-ma po-tei-ach sh'a-rim, u-vit'vu-na m'sha-neh i-tim,
u-ma-cha-lif et haz'ma-nim, u-m'sa-deir et ha-ko-cha-vim
b'mish-m'ro-tei-hem ba-ra-ki-a kir-tso-no.
Bo-rei yom va-lai-la, go-leil or mi-p'nei cho-shech
v'cho-shech mi-p'nei or, o u-ma-a-vir yom u-mei-vi lai-la,
u-mav-dil bein yom u-vein lai-la, A-do-nai ts'va-ot sh'mo.
o Eil chai v'ka-yam, ta-mid yim-loch a-lei-nu, l'o-lam va'ed.

Ba-ruch a-ta A-do-nai, ha-ma-a-riv a-ra-vim!”

As he sang, the strange words moving her, Cameron’s eyes moved about the ornate ceiling ,the hanging glass lanterns, the glittering ark, the people around the room who were just like her except she was used to churches—if she was used to anything. But at last her eyes fell back to the English text, curious to know what the chazzan was saying.

“Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the universe,
who speaks the evening into being,
skillfully opens the gates,
thoughtfully alters the time and changes the seasons,
and arranges the stars in their heavenly courses according to plan.
You are Creator of day and night,
rolling light away from darkness and darkness from light,
transforming day into night and distinguishing one from the other.
Adonai Tz’vaot is Your Name.
Ever-living God, may You reign continually over us into eternity.
Blessed are You, Adonai, who brings on evening.”

And it was beautiful, and she felt almost as if she didn’t need to read it, so she stopped, for it was as if the words still meant what they meant and still felt how they felt even if she couldn’t understand them. Without understanding she understood.
Her eyes caught the bright eyes of Marissa. Marissa Gregg remembered her great aunt telling her that after the Mass had gone into English, she’d stopped going to church.
“Before, when I went to Mass I felt lifted up. The words meant what they meant, but they meant even more in Latin. It was like there was space between you and the words. In English the words only meant what they meant, and maybe only half of that. They hit the floor like lead.”
But that was always how Marissa had felt in church, and right here she was lifted up by the music of the words, and even by the music of her ignorance.
But currently she was surprised because people around her were singing with the chazzan and in response. Many were as tone deaf and diffident as Catholics, and Brad, who could sing well enough, was definitely put off by the Hebrew. But Nehru was not, and that boy Mark wasn’t, and apparently Gilead and Russell were quick studies. It seemed that the people around them who would have been slow or too quiet had gathered some courage because of the boys and now, they all sang:

“A-do-nai s'fa-tai tif-tach, u-fi ya-gid t'hi-la-te-cha.
Bend knees at Baruch; bow at atah; straighten up at Adonai:

Ba-ruch a-tah A-do-nai, E-lo-hei-nu vei-lo-hei a-vo-tei-nu, E-lo-hei Av-ra-ham, E-lo-hei Yitz-chak, Vei-lo-hei Ya-a-kov, Ha-eil Ha-Ga-dol Ha-Gi-bor v'Ha-No-rah, Eil El-yon, go-meil cha-sa-dim to-vim, ko-nei ha-kol, v'zo-cheir chas-dei a-vot, u-mei-vi go-eil liv-nei v'nei-hem l'ma-an sh'mo b'a-ha-vah.
Baruch; bow at atah; straighten up at Adonai:
Ba-ruch a-tah A-do-nai, ma-gein Av-raham.

A-tah gi-bor l'o-lam, A-do-nai, m'cha-yeh mei-tim a-tah, rav l'ho-shi-a.”

On impulse she turned to look at Anigel, whose face was glowing. She did not dare ask what was going through the black haired girl’s mind. Later she would, and Cameron would too. Anigel would only say, “I felt taken out of myself.”
Which is exactly how Marissa Gregg felt too.


MORE TOMORROW...

 

[CharmedFan28]

Well Ted is back and has realised that Chayne has moved on with his life. I enjoyed seeing this big group of friends going to church. It seems ti have deeply affected a few of them. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I didn't expect that you had read this early. Of course I posted early so there's that. Yes, Ted is back and discovered that time moves on, and our rather large cast is at a shul, many of them experiencing Judaism for the first time and feeling all sorts of things.

 

[ChrisGibson]

THINGS GET A LITTLE MORE HEATED AS THE NIGHT OF THE PURIM PARTY MOVES ON


“And here you go, and these are on the house,” Jewell said setting down the plate of tacos. “Corn tortilla American style for Chayne, and the way they should be for you, Ted.”
“Ouch.”
“We’re glad to have you home,” Jewell said, “if only for a little bit.”
In background, Shania Twain was declaring.

“Oh, oh, oh, get in the action
Feel the attraction
Color my hair, do what I dare
Oh, oh, oh, I wanna be free
Yeah, to feel the way I feel
Man, I feel like a woman.”

“I forgot how good it is to be back in this place,” Ted said, liberally pouring red sauce onto his taco. “I forgot how at home a real home is. I forgot—wow!”
“You forgot about that hot sauce,” Chayne said. “I’ll stick with the verde, and just a little bit at that,” which is what he did, and took the large steak taco to his mouth.
“God these are good.”

“And they're gone so fast, yeah
Oh, so hold on the ones who really care
In the end they'll be the only ones there
And when you get old and start losing your hair
Can you tell me who will still care
Can you tell me who will still care?
Oh care
Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du, oh yeah
Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba du dop
Ba du bop, ba du dop
Ba du, yeah!”

Ted grimaced and placed his hands on the table, looking serious.
“I forgot how bad the music in here was.”
They looked at each other trying to hold straight faces, and burst out laughing.
“What are yawl laughing at?” Jewell shouted from the table where she was waiting.
“Remembering old times,” Ted said, merrily, and waved his taco at her, taking a more cautious bite.
“You know, you could wipe that off or just start a new taco.”
“No way,” Ted said, “once I’ve started something, I’m committed to finishing it.”
When he had downed the first taco and taken a swig of beer, Ted said, “So…. Rob?”
“Yes, and why did you say it like that? Rob?”
“Nothing. He’s young is all.”
“Well, we’re all young.”
“You know what I—”
“Mr. Weirbach, you’re hitting some very dangerous territory.”
“Fair,” Ted grinned.
He was more cautious with the second taco, and Chayne was finishing his first.
“So… how long after me?”
“Again, none of your business.”
“I just want to know how long it took to get over me. If you had to get over me.”
“I see you’re about to make what should be a fun meal an uncomfortable one.”
“Look,” Ted said, “I assumed that when I left, you would easily find someone else, and you did. I assumed I would be easily replaced.”
Chayne stopped eating.
“You were not easily replaced,” he said. “You were not replaced. You can pretend you didn’t matter and you thought you didn’t, if it makes you feel better, but you did matter and when you left it hurt a great deal. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No,” Ted said, looking angry as he rarely did. “Of course I didn’t want to hear that. That’s the last thing I wanted to hear.”
He looked irritable and then he sat back on his side of the booth and looked quiet.
“Maybe I did want to hear that,” he said, at last.
“I don’t know, Chayne.”

“Mmmbop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du, oh yeah!”

“God knows I loved us being together, and I feel like I ruined the whole thing. I could have done it so much better. I just didn’t ever expect us to be a couple, and part of me, a small part of me hoped that you would still be single, be waiting for me even though I was a moron and I never told you to, even without how I left—”

“Plant a seed, plant a flower, plant a rose
You can plant any one of those
Keep planting to find out which one grows…”

“I still thought, that…”

“It's a secret no one knows
It's a secret no one knows
Oh, no one knows!”

“JESUS CHRIST!!! “ Ted stood up and shouted across the bar, “SOMEONE TURN OFF THAT GODDAMN SONG!”
The bar went silent in shock, and Ted looked shocked at his own behavior. In his jeans and flannel shirt he stood looking rocked out of his mind, and then put a hand to his chest. His dark tee shirt fit him well, Chayne noticed more than he wanted to and he only said, as someone did indeed change the song:
“Now that’s the neurotic Catholic Jew I miss.”
Ted attempted to look suave. He pushed up his glasses with his middle finger and then looked shocked when he realized it was his middle finger, and then he said, “Well…”
“Yeah?”
“Do we go back to your house… or my hotel?”





“I've never had to knock on wood
But I know someone who has
Which makes me wonder if I could
It makes me wonder if I've
Never had to knock on wood
And I'm glad I haven't yet
Because I'm sure it isn't good
That's the impression that I get!

“Thanks you guys have been great. We’re gonna wrap up for now. Have a great night! We love you!” Brad cried.
Brad and Nehru were getting off the stage when Nehru nearly bumped into the young, curly haired man at the base of the stairs.
“Joshua!”
“Nehru Alexander,” he almost purred. “And Brad.”
Brad already knew about Nehru and Joshua and Nehru said,” It’s good to see you, Josh. This is Brad. As you know. I mean…”
“We’re together,” Brad said, frankly.
“Oh,” Joshua looked only momentarily disconcerted.
He said, “It’s just that I was looking forward to…. Seeing you.”
“Ah...” Nehru, who was less able to save himself from certain situations than he wished he was said.
“But,” Josh rolled his tongue in his mouth, “yu all are together.”
“Yes,” Nehru said at the same time Brad did. He wanted to say is forcefully, to make up for not having said it before.
“Ah,” Joshua said. Then, “Oh… Well…”
Joshua said nothing else, but neither did he move, so Brad and Nehru didn’t move either, and then Joshua said, “Well does that mean I can see you,” he pointed from one to the other, “together?”


As the remaining crowd roared and applauded, Russell was pretty sure that, as good as Chili Comet Sundae was, alcohol was the main contributing factor to everyone’s joy. Cody slow hopped off the stage and asked Russell, “You wanna take a walk?”
“Are you going to put a coat on?”
“I’m hot.”
“Cause you’ve been on stage. We will both be cold as fuck when we step outside.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“I won’t. I’ll grab coats.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Cody teased.
This irked Russell who said, “Justine Barnard was never half the mother I would be,” and Cody, following after with his hands jammed in his pockets muttered, “When you’re right, you’re right.”




They were making out on the little bed in the small dark room, and her hands were running up and down his body. Josh knelt to kiss Nehru and reached for his belt, unzipping Nehru’s jeans.
Nehru, on his knees in the bed gasped at Josh’s mouth on him. He closed his eyes and shivered as he grew large and hard, feeling Brad’s hands massage his scalp. Josh’s lips and tongue and wet suction waxed him, and he reached for Brad’s zipper, opening his jeans and motions for the taller man to turn to him.
While Josh knelt sucking him avidly, Nehru stopped for a moment and held Brad’s penis in his hand. Slowly, he plunged it into his mouth, feeling it well, feeling it impossibly large, then he took it out again, massaging it the way Josh was massaging him. To Brad, the sensation of his penis, firm and wet and in Nehru’s hands made him feel a little dizzy.
“Jawarhalal Nehru Alexander, get undressed for me, okay?” Brad said, quite gently.
Joshua moved so Nehru could stand up, and gently, pulling up his tee shirt, Nehru obeyed. As his clothes fell to the floor with a light sound, Joshua and Brad stood naked too.

MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

Well Ted and Chayne certainly talked. I know Ted wishes Chayne stayed single but I was and am happy that Chayne moved on with his life. Well Nehru and Brad certainly aren’t shy about inviting a third person into bed. Good for them! Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Chayne is just not the sort to not move on, and Ted probably should have known that. Nehru and Brad certainling move by the beat of their own drummer, and I don't know that I would do it, but it does seem to work for them, so let's see where they end up. And tomorrow let's see where Chayne and Ted end up.

 

[ChrisGibson]

AS THE NIGHT OF THE PURIM PARTY DEEPENS, SO DOES DESIRE...


They were making out on the little bed in the small dark room, and her hands were running up and down his body. Josh knelt to kiss Nehru and reached for his belt, unzipping Nehru’s jeans.
Nehru, on his knees in the bed gasped at Josh’s mouth on him. He closed his eyes and shivered as he grew large and hard, feeling Brad’s hands massage his scalp. Josh’s lips and tongue and wet suction waxed him, and he reached for Brad’s zipper, opening his jeans and motions for the taller man to turn to him.
While Josh knelt sucking him avidly, Nehru stopped for a moment and held Brad’s penis in his hand. Slowly, he plunged it into his mouth, feeling it well, feeling it impossibly large, then he took it out again, massaging it the way Josh was massaging him. To Brad, the sensation of his penis, firm and wet and in Nehru’s hands made him feel a little dizzy.
“Jawarhalal Nehru Alexander, get undressed for me, okay?” Brad said, quite gently.
Joshua moved so Nehru could stand up, and gently, pulling up his tee shirt, Nehru obeyed. As his clothes fell to the floor with a light sound, Joshua and Brad stood naked too.




After a conga line started up one end of the auditorium and then the other, and the kids and people with kids had gone home, Anigel and Cameron stepped outside, and the air was bracing.
“Heya Rob.”
“Isn’t wonderful?” Rob said, ashing his cigarette on the steps of the reception hall. Across the street the lights in the houses were merry and the black sky was filled with more stars than you could see in Geschichte Falls.
“It really is,” Anigel said. “I can honestly say Catholics never partied this hard. What time is it, anyway?”
“Nearly eleven,” Cameron answered, looking at her watch. “Oh, wait, it’s nearly twelve.”
“Are you serious?”
She nodded and Rob looked at his watch in surprise.
“Rob!”
Rob heard his name, but turned and did not know who it was. It wasn’t until the man had crossed the street and Rob saw a young guy in a rumpled suit with a tie hanging from his hand that Rob said, “Doug Norris.”
Anigel blinked.
“Doug Norris, Cameron Dwyer and Anigel Reyes. Cam and Ani, Doug Norris. What are you doing here?”
“Being a Jew,” Doug said. “I grew up in this shul.”
“Doug works the research library me and Chayne go to a lot when we’re—”
“Researching?” Anigel said.
“Exactly.”
“We’ve had a lot of good conversations,” Doug said, smiling. “About a lot of things. Haven’t seen Chayne a lot though, lately.”
“No, no,” Rob said. “He’s been busy with stuff.”
“Yeah, well,” Doug said,”we’re pulling an all nighter here, but you had said you were thinking about doing a medieval story, and there’s this exhibit in Kazoo I was on my way to. In the morning. So… if you wanted to come.”
Rob looked to Anigel.
“Well, we did tell Chayne we wouldn’t be back tonight. He could probably wait till tomorrow.”
“Let me think about it,” Rob said.
The dark haired young man, nodded.
“Great, man,” he said, a smile breaking out on his handsome face. “Let me know.”
Rob looked after Doug until he thought it was indecent, and then said, indifferently, “The band still playing?”
“They’ve stopped like maybe twice,” Cameron said. “Marissa went ti bed.”
“To bed? Where?”
“Don’t you know?” Anigel said, “this place is like a club house. I mean, a club house on a low budget, but yeah, they’ve got bedrooms upstairs and a little rooftop thing. I think I even heard someone say we’re going to try to stay up till sunrise.”
“I may have to cheat,” Rob said. He cleared his throat.
“By that I meant, I might have to take a look at one of those bedrooms.”
“Yeah,” Anigel said exchanging a glance with Cameron. “I got that.
Anigel hugged her arms around her knees.
“This has got me thinking.”
“About being Jewish?”
“You joke,” Anigel began, “But it’s got me thinking about the way I approached God, growing up.”
“And what are you thinking?”
“Look, I’m not saying I came up with any answers, just that…. Well, now I actually have questions. And there was a time when I thought I knew everything, and what I knew wasn’t worth much and now the world seems bigger, and I’m glad for it.”


























“Isn’t it funny,” Cody began, “how we’ve never seen this town and we may never come here again, and it’s got all its little stories and dramas just like we have in ours? All these little towns, dotted all over Michigan, all over America, all with their own shit.”
“Do we really have drama in Geschichte Falls?”
“Did you seriously ask that question?” Cody said.
Russell laughed bitterly, jamming his hands in his pockets. The wind had started up and they were walking back across the park toward the hall. They had gone toward the sleeping downtown with its plate glass storefront windows. They had seen, down the street, a church like Saint Adjeanet’s, and a gas station near a red light like the one on Market Street.
“You know everything will work itself out,” Cody said.
“I feel like everything has worked itself out,” Russell said. “And I don’t much approve of it. The year 2000 is turning out to be be some bullshit.”
Cody touched Russell’s shoulder.
“Can’t you be happy?” he pleaded. “Just for tonight? Just a little? You used to be full of wonder, and if we can’t do anything about how things have turned out, I at least want you to have wonder again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Short Man.”
“I’m taller than you.”
Cody kissed Russell.
“Is that better?”
“Did you do that just to make me feel better?”
“I did it to make me feel better too.”
Russell bent down and pulled Cody’s face to him, kissing him deeply.
He wanted to stop. They should have stopped. Once Cody’s arms raised up as if to protests, then in the empty grassy park, his arms went about Russell’s waist, and Russell’s went about him. Right and wrong and what they knew could have every other day, but this night, as they held each others, kissing deep and deeper still, faces clasped by hands, was for them.


























“Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fuck you? Tell me you want me to fuck you!” Ted demanded huskily, and his arms like pillars around Chayne, his waist between Chayne’s thighs, he thrust inside him, looking deep into his eyes.
“Baby,” Chayne said, holding Ted’s face in his hands.
“I’m talking too much, right?”
“You’re repeating myself.”
Ted stopped and chuckled and they both laughed as Ted fell on his back in the bed and they lay side my side.
Ted took Chayne’s hand and looking up at the ceiling, he swallowed and chuckled.
“I’m glad you came back with me,” he said. “No matter what the morning brings—”
“The morning brings me going back to my house.”
“I’m glad you’re with me here tonight.”
They turned to each other, smiling, and then Chayne kissed him, and he kissed Chayne, and Ted’s fingers were soft on the back of Chayne’s neck. Chayne drew Ted to him, and their limbs wrapped together, their bodies clinging, and Chayne and Ted closed eyes to savor each other and opened those eyes to see one another. Chayne held Ted to him and felt his head in the crook of his shoulder. Slowly they fit their bodies together in the darkness of the hotel room. Lit only by a slice of moonlight, they moved in love.


















Chayne was sure that lovers understood things that no one else did about each other, that love eclipsed many questions and second thoughts and when, despite everything, Ted had turned to him in confidence and offered his bedroom, when Ted stood there looking half Superman and half Woody Allen, Chayne knew that this night was a gift, and if he did not go with Ted, he would never forgive himself.
In the night, they lay side by side, catching hands, laughing, saying they were sorry, weeping a little, and whispering tender words. In the night they lay face to face tenderly stroking each other, caressing limbs and wondering at the beauty of another man. In the night, Chayne lay on his face as Ted spread himself across him, kissing him, rubbing aches and pains and neglects out with his strong hands. In the night Chayne, on his face, gripped the pillow as Ted fucked him deeper and deeper, and near the morning, Chayne flew from his own his body while, his cock harder than it had ever been, he went deeper and deeper into Ted who, mouth opened in pain and pleasure, urged him on.
Jewell would keep whatever she thought was happening to herself. He would tell Faye and Shannon, and there would be no judgment. So called faithfulness did not matter. This moment, when he almost wept to be with Ted again, when they opened hands to each other and joined palms, linked fingers, thrust together, kissed deeply, entangled limbs and touched flesh to flesh, unable to have enough of one another, giving themselves up to being inside of each other every way they could, was all that mattered.

They were yawning, half asleep on the love seat, and across from them, on the sofa in the common room, Cameron was already passed out.
“You don’t regret coming, do you?” Gilead asked.
“Are you kidding?” said Mark. “This is the most fun I’ve had in…. Well, you know, I always have fun with you.”
“Do you?” Gilead said, in a tone of discovery.
“Yeah, dummy. Can’t you tell?”
“Well, last month you were in such a slump. And I know you were depressed, and I know it’s not just like something you fix once and then everything’s gone, but… I don’t know, I don’t feel like a very fun person.”
“Gilead Story, you are hands down the most fun person I know.”
Gilead laughed at Mark’s declaration, and then he said, “Do you go to synagogue?”
“I have,” Mark said. “Now and again I do.”
“Would you take me?”
“You liked it?”
“I did like it,” Gilead said. “But also, if something’s a part of your life, then I want it to be a part of mine too.”
“Is that why you come to my track meets?”
“No, I come ot your track meets cause you look good in a pair of shorts and a sleeveless tee shirt.”
“You know, no one ever came to temple with me. Not even Joe.”
“Was Joe your boyfriend?”
Mark blinked at Gilead.
“I mean, if he was, I don’t want you to ever think you can’t tell me. I know how much you loved him. Still love him, and—”
Mark put his fingers to Gilead’s lips and smiled sadly.
“Gil, you are my first boyfriend. You are the first guy I’ve been with. You’re the first anything I’ve been with. I knew I probably would prefer to be with a guy about…. Really not long before I met you. I never told anyone. Not even Joe. Certainly not Chris. They are two of my closest friends, but I just didn’t tell them. And I wish Joe had lived to see you. I wish he’d been around to see me this happy. That part hurts, thinking about the things we won’t do and what he won’t know.”
Mark looked like he was debating saying something else and so Gilead said, “Out with it.”
“Gil, you know when I was depressed and was shutting you out?”
“Of course I know.”
“I was scared. I kept thinking about… what if one day God took you away from me the way he took Joe? And it was… It was too much.”

MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

Wow desire sure was a big part of tonight’s portion! First Brad, Nehru and Joshua, then Rob. Russell and Cody seem to be falling into old patterns despite knowing they are related. I did not expect Chayne and Ted to sleep together though I guess the signs were there that that might happen. I was glad Gilead and Mark had another very honest conversation. Lots to think about in this great portion and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, there's always that one person. Chayne and Rob's story isn't over yet, and neither is this chapter.
Also, but we talked about this, Nehru and Brad have hit their stability, it's just a very different stability.
Cody and Russell, where that ends up.... well, we'll see.

 

[ChrisGibson]

THE NIGHT BECOMES THE MORNING AND OUR PURIM ADVENTURE COMES TO A CLOSE...

In the darkness of the warm, rumpled bed, Nehru Alexander believed it was nearly seven o’ clock. He could usually sense things like this. Brad was stretched out beside him, but Joshua had gone, and Joshua was not Cody. He had been fun, but they had not needed him to stay.
Brad stretched, and eyes closed, reached out to pull Nehru in He stretched, satisfied. Joshua had wanted to be fucked, and not necessarily by Nehru. He had been so very hard watching Brad in Joshua, and the harder Brad fucked Josh, the more he called out, the more he ran his nails down Brad’s back and caressed his ass. The moment of Brad in Josh combined with Brad’s moments in him, his times with Josh, the absence of Cody, and Nehru was surprised to feel his own prick rising. Brad’s round hirsute buttocks flexed and flexed and Nehru took the lube Joshua had brought and then, just like that, he was pushing inside of Brad, who cried out in surprise and then delight, they were moving together in that little room, fucking and cussing. In the end there had been the satisfying sound of the bedstead hitting the little dresser, their crying out, their groaning with pleasure until, at last, at the top of a bright star, Nehru came.
Now he dressed, searching for and pulling on briefs and then jeans, finding his tee shirt, knowing his jacket was downstairs in the auditorium. For so long, he had been this almost celibate, almost sexless thing. Who was this lover to who moved slowly in Brad, watched Brad move slowly in Cody, and now Josh, bent on hands in knees, ass up for them? Who was this Nehru whose cock, like a radar, found the place that made men cry out?
“Are we getting up?” Brad rasped, laying on his side, his hair sticking up.
“I am,” Nehru said.
“Wait for me,” Brad said. And Nehru did. He wanted Brad again. He always wanted him. There would be time for that. Walking down the corridor of this clubhouse, past the soda machine, he yawned and headed downstairs to the lobby before the auditorium. Hale and Shane were putting up instruments and Jill, with one devil horn gone, was asleep on the stage.
“I’m so hungry I could eat a…” Shane began, then said, “but I wouldn’t eat a horse. I’m so hungry I could eat McDonalds.”
“There’s one down the street,” Nehru said. “I saw it.”
Brad shut his guitar in its case and slapped Jill on the ass.
“Ah!” she shot up blinking.
“Let’s go,” Brad said.




Thank God for time out of time. Though you try to regret it you never will. Thank God for the night that is early morning that is under the white stars. They come back to this long tall building that looks almost like a shed or a gym, and when they come they come through the side because they don’t really want to see anyone. In the lobby with its fluorescent lights they can see in one direction, Anigel, Cameron and Rob on the porch, and in the other is the door leading to the reception hall where people are still dancing, Across from them are kitchens and other small rooms, and they walk up the stairs because there are rumors of bedrooms.
By virtue of the height of the auditorium, upstairs is smaller than downstairs, but here, this low lit place reminds Russell of the a hospital waiting room, reminds him of where he first met Cody, who looks around at the round tables and the counters, the vending machines, the doors to the restrooms, and then kisses him again and takes him by the hand down a hallway where, on the other side of the door he hears the sound of frantic fucking. They move a few paces to turn the corner and find another door, try it, and come into an empty room, but one where they can still here the fucking.
Cody feels the wall. It is only a partition that doesn’t go all the way up, that has made two rooms from one and when he looks through he sees, in the moonlit night, the form three naked men, legs rising like leaping frogs, the starlight on the smoothness of backs and buttocks. Nehru, gently fucking Brad, who is gently fucking someone else on hands and knees. They take up a hard, clapping rhythm, and the bed squeaks as the last man cries out. Nehru slows, they all sigh. They unlock and link in other poses, and the curly haired man has wraps his legs tight about Nehru.
“Nehru,” Joshua breathes. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
And as Joshua says it, Russell’s hands slip into Cody’s jeans and while Cody watches Nehru, Russell strokes him, and then slowly Cody turns away and begins to undress Russell. In the small bedroom, they lightly collapse onto the bed, and to the sound and sensation of Nehru’s lovemaking, their bodies surrender to what they have not known since before Christmas, what is just for them and will harm no one, mouths taking hungrily, arms and legs wrapping together, pulling each other, stomachs, thighs, cocks, rubbing as they pull the covers over each other and give themselves to love. They are aware of the need to be quiet, and triggered by Nehru and Brad and Joshua’s inability to be quiet. Their rhythms speed up when his speed up, they allow the mattress to creak when his does. When Joshua is leaving, they have already come and are asleep in each other’s arms.
Russell, his arms around Cody’s waist, stirs when he hears Nehru dressing, hears the buckling of his belt and his shoes slipping on. It is cooler now in the room, but they can pull the covers higher. Cody grunts and groans, and Russell wishes he wore his watch and could tell what time it is. He loves his friends, but they must not be found like this. They can remain like this, but not much longer. A root of bitterness starts in him, but he pulls Cody to himself and kisses the small of his back, feeling himself go simultaneously melty and erect, his penis pressing against Cody’s.



“Wake up you assholes, wake up!” Nehru commanded as he sat on the edge of the loveseat where Gilead and Mark were huddled together.
“I hate you,” Gilead said without opening his eyes.
Nehru placed a heavy warm bag of breakfast on his cousin’s lap and while Mark blinked, yawning and making an exclamation of happiness, Nehru said:
“Do you still hate me?”
“Is there sausage biscuit with egg?”
“Four of them, two for each of you with hash browns and orange juice.”
Cameron was already quietly eating and lifted her orange juice to toast them.
“Right now,” Gilead said, “I almost love you.”
“Get your black ass up and come to the roof with me.”
“I will not argue with you,” Gilead said.
On the second floor, Russell was drinking coffee and Cody was halfway into a breakfast sandwich.
“Morning guys,” Russell said.
“Is that… a smile on your face?”
“Yes, and go to hell,” Russell said.
Sense had told him to get up, but love could not, and it was lying naked, curled with Cody, that Nehru and Rob had found them. Embarrassment had passed through Russell but dissolved when Nehru said, “I have breakfast for you guys. Get dressed,” and left it at that.
Rob just said, “Thank God we all got to be ourselves last night, right?” and left the room good naturedly.
“Yes,” Nehru said, meeting Russell and Cody’s eyes, with the understanding that in this little room, they must have heard him and Brad having sex with Josh, “we all needed something, and we were all given it.”


Brad Long stood on the roof of the clubhouse holding Marissa Long’s hand, and the two of them smiled at each other so intensely that when Cameron looked, something in her melted. Anigel was sitting beside her and listening to Rob and Doug.
“Going with me?” Doug said.
“I think I’d better,” Rob said.
“Great. We’ll leave when all this is over.
“Rob?” Doug said after a moment.
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking really forward to it.”
Rob nodded.
“I’ll call Chayne and let him know I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Anigel Reyes and Rob sat on the roof eating, and there were stragglers from the Purim party, everyone yawning. This was the most beautiful and most troublesome time of the day, when the night was past and day was on its way, but when heavy questions settled on the mind that the mind was too tired to put down. That’s why you needed this daylight, this silvering of sky, this gentle effusion of pink through the grey blue. As the first hints of yellow touched the sky and the silver air began to turn blue, she heard Nehru singing:

“Ma tovu
ohalekha Ya'akov,
mishk'notekha
Yisra'el.”

Others joined him. Over and over they were singing it, and now Rob was rising, so Anigel did too, and she put her hand out to help up Marissa. Rob looked from the sun to Doug Norris who was tall and smiling, rocking back on his heels. He ignored the humming in his loins and nerves he felt thinking of what might happen when they’d traveled even a half hour from here. As day took the sky, Nehru and Mark sang:

“Va'ani b'rov hasd'kha, avo veytekha, eshtahaveh el heikhal kodsh'kha b'yir'atekha.
Adonai, ahavti m'on beitekha um'kom mishkan k'vodekha.
Va'ani eshtakhaveh ve'ekhra'ah, avar'kha lifnei Adonai osi.
Va'ani t'filati l'kha Adonai et ratzon, Elohim b'rov hasdekha aneini be'emet yish'ekha.”

As they stood in the March morning, wrapped in coats and tallits over coats to greet the yellow orange sun and the rose colored day, they chanted:

“Elohai neshama shenatata bi t’horah hi.
“Elohai neshama shenatata bi t’horah hi.
“Elohai neshama shenatata bi t’horah hi.

Often the night was what you needed, but the day was what you had, where the challenges of the future would be met, where what had to be faced was faced. Day was where the living could be done, and for some of them the living had been hard, but there they were now, in the morning chill singing.

“Elohai neshama shenatata bi t’horah hi.
Ata b’ratah, ata y’tzartah, ata n’fachtah bi [v’ata m’shamrah b’kirbi v’ata atid litelah mimeni ulehachazirah bi leatid lavo. Kol z’man shehaneshaman b’kirbi modeh/ah ani lefaneicha, Adonai Elohai v’lohei avotai, Ribon kol hamasim, Adon kol haneshamot. Baruch ata Adonai, hamachazir neshamot lifgarim metim.”



That morning they drove out past even the Blue Jewell to have breakfast at “the best little rest area in Lothrop County.” Ted had biscuits with gravy, and Chayne had chicken and waffles. Chayne didn’t say anything when he woke in the room with Ted and felt the sun on his neck and back and ass, and turned sleepily to see Ted on his back, mouth open, looking like and angel in the sunrise. They brushed their teeth and drank coffee made with the little coffee machine in the hotel room, and then surprised themselves by making love hard and quick as the promise of daylight became an orange jewel of a sun in the pale blue sky, and the heat of love made them damp with sweat.
He didn’t say much while they ate together because everything that Ted was about to say was all there was to say:
“I think things just got more complicated. Not easier.”
“Things were complicated when you showed up at the door.”
“Things were complicated when I left,” Ted said.
When he smiled he looked sorry about everything and heartbroken and Chayne took his hand across the table.
“I’m sorry for making things worse,” Ted said. “I think in my head I wanted us to take care of unfinished business.”
“And we seem to have made even more business.”
“Did we?” Ted said, letting Chayne’s hand go.
“Yes, it seems we did. I thought I was done with you, Ted Weirbach, and then you show up and… you’re leaving, but I don’t feel done with you. I’m not leaving Rob, but… I don’t feel done with us. I don’t know what that means now, and it doesn’t do to think about it. But when I do think about it, I understand that last night couldn’t have happened if I was over you.”
“I have never been over you,” Ted said frankly. “I am less over you than I ever was.”
“Well, you’re still going to be gone for another year and a half or something, right?”
“True.”
“Then our not being over each other doesn’t really have to get in the way of us living our lives.”
Ted turned from Chayne and laughed, shaking his head.
“You were always a practical one.”
“Well, yes,” Chayne said, going back to his waffles.
“Someone has to be.”



The van thrummed under her while Brad drove south back to Geschichte Falls, and Cameron, who had been sitting beside Marissa, dozed, head on her lap. Absently Marissa stroked her hair and wondered Is this what a daughter feels like? Poor beautiful girl cursed with a mother who was cursed with lovelessness.
She remembered Hale waking her up, so gently, smiling down at her when nearly no one else was awake.
“Hey pretty!”
“Pretty wretched!”
“Pretty lovely,” the black haired Potowatami corrected.
“You wanna get married today?”
“Of course I want to get married—what, today?”
Hale had nodded.
On the roof of the clubhouse she’d said, “What about everyone else? What about all the invitations? What about…?”
And Hale had said, “Marry me. Today.”
And she had said yes.

Marissa Gregg, in the back, beside Hale, and aware of the life growing in her, received his arm about her waist. When Brad looked back and grinned, she did not scold him for not paying enough attention to driving, but leaned forward and swatted the tall man on his spiky head, and because she still had the prayer book from the great synagogue that had stood across from them, whose dome was glinting in that morning light, she read the English of what they had been singing in Hebrew:

“My God, the soul You have given me is pure. You created it, You formed it, and You breathed it into me. and You guard it while it is within me, and one day You will take it from me, and restore it to me in the time to come. As long as the soul is within me, I will thank You, Adonai, my God and God of my ancestors, Master of all works, Lord of all souls. Blessed are You, LORD, who restores souls to lifeless bodies.”

They had sung and sang a last time:

“Elohai neshama shenatata bi t’horah hi.

And Marissa whispered: “Amen.”


TOMORROW: MASTER OF ALL SORROWS

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion! Chayne and Ted aren’t over each other but I am glad Chayne isn’t dwelling on the fact that he won’t see him for so long. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Chayne and Rob but we shall see. As for Russell, nothing seems to stop him wanting to sleep with Cody. I am still enjoying this story a lot and look forward to Master Of All Sorrows tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Wow, on this first night of the NEW JUB site, we begin posting chapter eleven.... Meditation on the Flesh​

BRAD LONG​

Everything makes more sense when I sit down and write. For so long I thought that was Nehru’s job, I really did. I used to play my guitar and think, when I get other people we’ll have a nice little garage band. And then we had a nice little garage band, and I thought, when we get a real singer, we can have a better band. And we got Nehru, and he could write. He had the greatest mind I’d ever seen. He was the wisest person I’d ever met, this little guy—well, not little. I’m six-two, he’s just shorter than me. And younger, but the point is, I thought he had all the words, and lately I realize I have words. Lately I even realize that salvation comes through the word. I’m not very religious, but there are verse I have heard: the truth will set you free, the word became flesh… I think I understand what that means.

I’ll be thirty two before long, thirty two and last year when I turned thirty one I was in a panic because I didn’t understand myself at all. I didn’t even know what I meant by that, just that something was wrong, Not quite a year later everything has changed. There’s hardly a need to rehearse it, but everything has changed so much, and it is so very different from what I thought I needed, or what anyone else would think I needed. Need is a strange word, maybe I should say, things are so different from what people—me included—though they should be. But then, should is a strange word too. These days I just keep on trying to do what feels real, what feels like me. That sounds selfish. I just keep on trying to do the thing that gives people joy. Well now that sounds saintly. I just keep trying to do what makes Nehru Alexander happy. Well, now that seems co dependent. Or so they say. Somewhere in the middle of saintliness, co dependence and…. Authenticity…. Is love.

After the Purim party we all drive back to Geshichte Falls. Cody is with us, but Cody spent the night with Russell. It’s strange to me, but I don’t judge. Cody is a strange man, but he’s made me strange too. There’s something wonderful about him ,and kind. And hot. If I didn’t love Nehru, I probably wouldn’t be able to see it. Nehru is the first guy I’ve been with, but Cody is the second and its easy to be with him. That doesn’t sound quite right. More, it’s natural to be with him, more natural than most of the people I’ve been with in my life. And he loves Russell, and Russell is a conundrum. He and his friends—I mean Gilead mostly—are pretty complicated for high schoolers. I can’t see myself fooling with a kid in high school, but Russell’s not every kid. And apparently Russell is his brother? But they found that out late. It seems to be making a real mess between them, and by that I mean ,being hung up on the fact that they’re related seems to be making a real mess.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” I heard Nehru say when we were at his cousin Chayne’s.

“Well, now,” Chayne began, “the big deal is Cody is a grown ass man and Russell is sixteen, but…”

“But that cat’s out of the bag and the road has been crossed,” Nehru said.

“Right,” Chayne allowed, “and having been crossed….. I do see what you’re saying.”

“You know Mom has this friend who’s a shrink?” Gilead turned to Chayne.

“Sherraleese?”

“Yeah. And she used to council this girl whose parents were brother and sister. They just couldn’t stay away from each other. They made three kids together.”

Rob was there and he said, “that’s sick,” and I wanted to say the same thing, but Chayne shrugged and said, “It’s kind of romantic.”

“You would say that,” Rob said.

And Chayne said, “Of course I would. I just did.”

“But the kids were all fucked up,” Gilead continued.

“That,” Nehru said, “is the unfortunate consequence of incest between heterosexuals. But Cody and Russell can’t make children.”



Rob doesn’t come back with us. He is going some place with some guy who was at the party last night. I’m sure Anigel knows what’s going on, and I can’t believe that somehow Chayne Kandzierski doesn’t know everything. But it’s none of my business.



All I know is that the other night, it never occurred to us, or maybe it occurred to one of us for a moment, to turn this Josh guy away. Maybe we thought he’d be like Cody. He wasn’t. He was fine. We had a good time. I don’t regret it. I’m surprised about that. I’ve slept with a lot of people. That’s true. I’ve done a lot of things, but I always tried to do what was right, and Nehru is the person I care about. Cody was always an exception. I don’t want other people. It’s not something I seek. I was surprised when we took Josh to bed with us, but I kept thinking this was a guy who needed something, and we had it, so we gave it to him. Ha! We gave it to him all night. And it didn’t make us less.

But on the way back I can’t help thinking about Cody, wondering if after last night, maybe he’ll be with Russell now. Maybe that will be his thing, and me and Nehru will be on our own. I love Nehru on his own, but we’ll miss Cody. When I say we, I know I mean we. We, Nehru and I, will miss our friend. When Cody shares our life it doesn’t make it less. It kind of makes it more.



We sit in our apartment over the Noble Red were the amber lights are strung up along the walls and down below is Kirkland Street with the cars passing by. Up to the window come the branches with their first green buds and Nehru says, “If you’re going to sing. You have to teach me to play the guitar.”

I have never named my guitar. I tried to call it Bessie, and then something else, but it didn’t make any sense. It’s a guitar, but it’s precious and I set it in Nehru’s precious arms and then put my arm around him, my hands over his, and began to instruct him. I tried to teach Debbie, but she complained that her hands hurt, and I wasn’t patient, so I lost confidence in my ability to teach. Tutoring math and history is one thing, but I’ve never been able to teach music, so I am surprised when Nehru takes to it,



We are going to California this summer. Ir has been our dream to go and play there. It’s a hazy dream ,but I’m a fan of it, and there’s really no limit to who does with us. Regardless if Cody is in our bed or not he will go because he’s in the band, which means Jill will because she’s with Shane. Robin will be and Hale. So I imagine Marissa there as well, Marissa round with our kid. Surely she can take vacation time. In my mind everyone is there.

Nehru is competent enough to strum a support to the words I am humming into a song and while I turns lose words into lyrics I think of the sun setting over blue water that has been taken up by sunlight and a long stretch of sand, and I don’t know if I’m picturing California or the lake where Nehru and I so often come together



“So close your eyes and take my hand

Leave behind this ragged land

When will you ever

Understand

That I will always love you?



Follow me and leave behind

The broken places, the spaces in your mind

Where everything is cold and black

So I can always love you.”



The bells of Saint Adjeanet are ringing when hands over hands become clinging, when my arms around Nehru tighten and we are done with our lesson, or maybe we’re doing a different lesson. We gently put the guitar down, and Nehru gently puts me down, kisses my eyes, my lips, traced my face with the back of his hand. I rise up to meet him, to kiss him, to pull his mouth to mine. We undress, and now he’s teaching me. We leave the sofa. He takes me by the hand and leads me to the bed, sits me down, presses his fingers to my lips, lays me down, takes his hand, takes the oil, strokes what’s already harder into something harder. He kneels down and takes me in and rides me as the afternoon shadows stretch to evening. In the end he takes mercy on me, turns around, so that I can come behind him. He tells me not to be gentle, urges me on to the finish line. Its only a few moments Nehru cries out while I pound him, longs for it. I apologize for not lasting longer. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry, babe.” Exploding is like shattering. it’s like being lifted of of your feet and then I wonder if an egg feels like this when it’s cracked, a thing piece of paper when it goes up in flames, or water when tension breaks the surface.




“Honey now whisper my name

As you and I go up in flames

And what is left? Only grace remains

And I will always love you…”



Nehru lies on his stomach the last of the day limning his head, his shoulders, his back his rising buttocks while, on my back, I picth and tremble. Orgasms with Nehru seize my body so hard so often, he strokes me as I come off of it, as I’m still shaking, my hands flexing and unflexing, my hip still pitching, my eyes still a little wide open, the last of the climax ringed from my body, he says: “No need to apologize. We have all night….”

After a while he amends: “We always.”



“And I will always love you…”




MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a excellent portion! Great to hear a lot from Brad’s point of view which we don’t get to see too often. He really seems to love Nehru which is a good thing. I enjoyed getting back to this and look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Brad's veiw does seem to be one of those that is hidden from view, and it would be hard to know his feelings without scenes like this, so you're right. Especially when we have a character who has done so many things that could be misinterpreted, we do need to stop in and look at Brad's mind every now and again.

 

[ChrisGibson]

AS THE WEEKEND APPROACHES, WE RETURN TO THE LOVES AND LOVE LIVES OF GESHICHTE FALLS


When Cody came through the door, he was received with gladness. Nehru had been at the stove mixing spaghetti sauce and came to him and hugged him quickly, Brad had been scrubbing the toilet—it was his day to clean the bathroom.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Nehru said, who also said that as long as Brad didn’t know how to cook everyday would be his day to clean the bathroom. “Have a seat.”

Then Nehru said, “Actually, if you wash your hands and make drinks and put plates out, that would be even better.”

Cody did, and it was like saying he was home ,and in the bathroom the water ran, Brad washing his hands, and then he was out and in the kitchen helping Cody put out the dishes and telling him about the new song they’d been working on. Nehru pulled the garlic bread out of the oven, and in preparing plates, he squeezed Cody’s hand, and his ass, smiling and saying, “It’s good to have you back.”

“I’ve only been gone two days!”

“It’s good all the same,” Brad said as he kissed Nehru, passing by.

They sat down to dinner and no one said anything about Russell, or about Purim. It was not their way to press, and things seemed to be sorted out, seemed to be. It seemed Cody was staying. It wasn’t necessary that he did, but he could if he wanted. While Nehru drank his wine and got another beer for Brad, one for Cody, he thought one day Cody would have to be accountable, say what he wanted, make an arrangement. One day he and Brad would have to do the same. But this was not that day, and at any road, they just all seemed to know what to do at this time, and to know what they wanted.

“Who wants some of the finest cush this side of Bob Marley?” Cody said, taking a fragrant bag out of his book bag.

Cody always smelled of patchouli and vanilla, milk and earth and a faint spray of cigarettes and marijuana. Brad kept weed handy, but smoked it infrequently. Nehru had never bought it and wouldn’t know where to get it, and if it never came across his path again he’d be fine. But it did come across is path, and so they went to the living room, rolled a blunt and passed it around. Even thought it was simpler to roll joints it was holier to pass the smoke between them. As they smoked and laughed and drank they talked. They talked about California and Anigel and her tampons. They talked about Russell and how Cody was unsure.

“This is my home. You guys are my home. If you want me. If you’ll have me. I’m sure about this. This is what I’m sure of.”

“You know,” Nehru said, “if you guys love each other, then who cares?”

“Thom and Patti might care.”

“Doubtless,” Nehru agreed. “But Thom and Patti don’t have to know.”

“He’s my—”

Nehru put his fingers over Cody’s lips. He clipped them shut so they looked like a duck’s bill and he said, “Shhhhhhh.

Abraham and Sarah were brother and sister. In the Bible.”

“The fuck?” Brad said.

“They were half brother and half sister. And they could reproduce!”

Nehru remembered he was holding Cody’s lips hostage. He let them go.

“Do what you love,” Nehru said, holding his arms out, and passing Cody the blunt.

“You’re too much,” Cody dissolved into a gurgle of laughs.

“You’re right,” he said. “But you’re too much.”



Everything that needed to be said had been said. There was no drinking, no smoking, and only a minimum of light. They were only a half a band short of Chilli Comet Sunday, but it passed through Brad’s mind that they might practice when, lazily he paid attention to Cody, whose hand was unzipping his jeans. He helped him, working them down, pulling down his black Jockeys. On the other side of Cody, Nehru’s trousers were already all the way down, and Cody was working him too. Now, Nehru whispered in Cody’s ear, and then Cody bent down and took Brad in his mouth, and Brad closed his eyes and plunged his hands into the thickness of Cody’s hair. He opened his eyes to look at the amber lights, and then to look to Nehru, who leaned forward to kiss him. Nehru’s mouth on his, Cody’s mouth on him.

They were in no hurry Under artificial stars things happened slowly. They had not closed the blinds or the curtains. The windows were high and they were high up, as Cody undressed and Nehru helped to undress both him and Brad, Brad remember the B&B by the lake and his penis rose in a thrill. In a thrill on the soft carpet before the sofa, he took Cody. They both moaned and even Nehru moaned as Brad buried the length of his cock inside him. Their sex was the beast with three backs, As he moved in Cody, Nehru’s hands gently shaped and traced his back, he wanted Nehru’s hands on his ass. He shocked at Nehru’s mouth there, his tongue inside of him. Nehru in him, Nehru in him Nehru in him! His fingers hooking down to yank his balls, his finger pressing into Brad’s asshole so gently so that Brad was caught between two exquisite pleasures. Nehru in him, him in Brad, holy trinity, fuckecstasy. Brad groaning, “harder…. Harder” while Nehru urged him on, planting his hands on his hips, clapping his ass, pushing him deeper into Cody, his breath shallow, his wish high, “Fuck him, Brad… Fuck him…”

Between them two of them, carrying out his wish, carrying out theirs, he was harder than he’d ever been. The sex thrill was at the base of his balls. It rose higher and higher, took all of him higher and higher. The three of them were caught in a frenzy on that living room floor that night.



That night the three of them slept so deeply in each other’s arms and there wasn’t even a radio on, just the sound of crickets from the few open windows and the occasional car driving by on Kirkland. In sleep they rolled together and embraced, woke up, rejoiced to be together and embraced again.

Brad Long needed no alarm clock. Even on days when he wasn’t going to work and was going to piss and go right back to sleep, for some reason he always woke at 6:26. This morning the toilet was the flushing, water was running, and Cody, compact, brown bodied, chocolate haired, was coming out of the bathroom. He climbed on Brad, squeezed his shoulders and mussed his hair and then climbed back into the bed Brad was climbing out of. Naked Brad went to make the coffee before heading into the bathroom. If Cody was here, he could drop Nehru off at Soubirous. He had a late schedule this semester anyway. Brad would head to the library at nine. On his way to the bathroom he saw Cody naked, stretched out like a starfish, his buttocks and thighs rounded and strong, his head between Nehru’s legs as he sucked him into morning. In the bathroom Brad could hear Nehru’s moans which were becoming cries. After shitting, he didn’t turn on the shower. He ran the water and used the air freshener. He opened the window, but he opened the bathroom door. Nehru had seen him, been with him. He thought he and Cody should be alone, but he wanted to see it. He wanted to hear it. The front of the apartment was one barely divided common space, living room and main bedroom, bathroom to one side, kitchen to the other. Brad thrilled at the sounds of clapping at the elegant way in which Nehru, on hands and knees moved his body, at the fierce rhythm in which Cody fucked him. He could barely stay away. His penis arched up like a sausage. His knees trembled. Full of lust and love, Brad moved toward the bed.

Brad's veiw does seem to be one of those that is hidden from view, and it would be hard to know his feelings without scenes like this, so you're right. Especially when we have a character who has done so many things that could be misinterpreted, we do need to stop in and look at Brad's mind every now and again.

SEE YOU ALL NEXT WEEK

 

[ChrisGibson]

There was a knock on his door, and Russell was sure it was one of his parents, probably Thom. But he wished it was Cody. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted Cody to come and make sense of this. Up north, in the little clubhouse by the synagogue, everything had made sense. In the intervening two weeks, as winter turned to spring, and the purple weeks of Lent turned toward Easter, things became hazier. He had been trying to make sense of it all day. He waited until the second knock, and then decided he was being rude. The sense that had not come all day was not about to come in the space between the next knock.

He opened it and Ralph was standing there, his wide hazel eyes worried, his tawny hair that he was so careful with, parted and partially out of his face. He smelled like he’d just showered and he was in joggers and tee shirt and a parka.

“Ralph,” Russell remembered now, “Jason called me. He said something was wrong.”

Russell stopped talking, his eyes searching Ralph.

Ralph looked, to Russell, injured. Russell embraced him and felt Ralph’s body untense, felt Ralph sink into the hug and this was for all of them. It was for Cameron. It was for Cody who he could not have. It was for Jason who he couldn’t love the way he should. It was for Mark still living with Joe’s death, it was for poor, poor Chris Knapp, and as he rocked Ralph, Ralph’s hand cupped him and began stroking him. The change from friendship to this more than friendship didn’t shock Russell, not exactly, but it changed him. They embraced tighter while Ralph kneaded him and Ralph’s tongue slipped hungrily into his mouth.

Russell reached behind Ralph and locked the door. He looked very desperate, like he was about to do something that he wasn’t sure about, and then, all in a moment, his hands reached for Ralph’s waistband, and he pulled down his joggers and Ralph wasn’t wearing underwear and so Russell got on his knees and began to suck him.

Ralph’s eyes went wide, and then he closed them, gasping. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He leaned back against the door, not knowing what to do with his hands. At last, as he felt Russell’s hands on his hips, reaching back to cup his ass, Ralph’s hands buried themselves in Russell’s hair. He blinked once, seeing the great windows of the room, curtains open, wondering if anyone could see, not caring as he felt himself getting longer and firmer, felt himself becoming his cock, felt Russell’s tongue, his mouth so warm, bathing him like he was a baby, sucking him like nursing.



Ralph didn’t think about things. He didn’t know how. Feelings frightened him and doubts he put out of his mind. He knew what he wanted and what he didn’t and these things usually happened in the moment. Now and again he could screw up his wits and his courage to come to a great purpose and make an important statement. Mostly he did not have to. Friendships were few in his life. School was made of buddies. He cared about Jason, but especially cared about Russell, and when Jason had called him up shaken and a mess, Ralph imagined—as much as he imagined anything—Jason twisting the phone cord as he spoke, and he knew he had to go to Russell for whatever had happened. Russell had been gone the first two times Ralph called, presumably with Gilead, and right now he had found him, sure from the look on his parents’ faces that they had no idea what was going on in their son’s life. But then, what parents did?

So, when he and Russell undressed, except for closing the curtains and turning off the large light, there was no thinking, and Russell had done those things, so no thinking on Ralph’s part at all. Ralph was baited breath, one hundred seventy pounds of varsity football player, tan skinned, sandy haired, broad shouldered, pretty in a bruiser way. Ralph was the desire for someone he’d cared for more, much more than he could ever say, and a penis, thick and rose headed pointing forward like a compass. He half stumbled after Russell, climbing onto the bed and he had done this before, done it with Cody, learned to lift legs, learned to lube the knob of the cock, learned to, oh God, slowly and with a slow grit, push, push, enter, learned the moment of mutual shock, and then, slowly, slowly, quicker now the fucking, the kissing, the kissing, the hands planted on shoulders, the legs encasing him the being the possessed, the possessing.

He didn’t want to come. He told himself he was kind of a slut for knowing how not to come, for knowing how to do this so well, how to please Russell. Oh, God, how he wanted to please him, He couldn’t talk to anyone about this, couldn’t even talk to himself, but this didn’t feel like a sin. This felt like the best thing ever. This felt like nothing else mattered. When he swore and said what he knew was silly…

“You like this… you like me inside you…. You like old Ralph in you… You like my cock in you… you like this dick? Like like it. You like the way I fuck? You like how I kiss you… Kiss me…. take that… Take…. That…

His heart and his cock swelled when Russell answered that he did love it, when he knew he wanted Russell to fuck him.

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great and very sexy portion! I am glad Cody has so many people who care about him. I may not understand why he still wants to sleep with Russell but whatever makes him happy and doesn’t harm anyone is good for him. Ralph turning up at Russells was a bit surprising. This is a complicated story but I am enjoying it. Excellent writing and I look forward to more in a few days! You have a great weekend too!