The Gift - 1. Chapter 1

Gone were the tiny dazzling ever-moving shafts of colored lights that cut like through ribbons of layered cigarette smoke over the raised disco dance floor in The Windjammer gay nightclub. Gone too was the plethora of young and middle age men seeking passion for the evening and daring to hope that last night would yield a storybook lifetime romance or at least a damn good fuck. Tim wondered how many times he’d gone there hoping to meet someone whom he could love and settle down with and end the one-night-stands that lead to nowhere beyond the bedroom. Nor was he sure of the name of the man who had made the advances last night after the bartender yelled, “Last Call”. All he was sure of was the splitting headache he was suffering from having overindulged, the cigarette that was almost down to the filter, the half filled cup of coffee before him on the bar of his third story one bedroom apartment, and the fact that the same young sensuously good looking blond man who had been his trick for the evening was now lying fast asleep in his bed. But Tim remembered with vivid clarity that the sex had been the best he’d ever experienced. His trick was tender at first, eager to please, and wickedly wild as their passions escalated and exploded in an awesome gut wrenching simultaneous climax after which they collapsed, belly to belly in puddles of warm semen, kissing until the heat of their bodies, slick with sweat and semen became unbearable. Tim rolled onto his side and stared wistfully at the ceiling. The young blond man rolled onto his side and laid his head on Tim’s arm until his eyelids closed. Tim eased his arm from under the young man’s head and rolled onto his side with his back to his trick and fell asleep too. Sometime in the night the blond had fanned out on the bed in an attempt to keep cool, forcing Tim to the edge of his side of the bed until Tim gave up at four fifteen in the morning and got up. He warmed leftover coffee and lit a cigarette and recalled the evening. Robert, or maybe Robin--Tim couldn’t remember which--had offered him his shoulder to cling to as they staggered the two shadowy blocks in the seamy district of DC to Robert’s or Robin’s parked car. The conversation between the time that they got into the blond man’s car and the time that they striped in Tim’s apartment and started making love was unusually pleasant and they seemed to have a lot in common, but Tim thought that most likely, as usual, his trick probably would become just another phone number attached to a name in his little pocketsize telephone book; the facial relation of which would become obscured by time and many more passing tricks in the future. Such had been the case for the last fourteen months following his breakup with Lon Abrahms; his lover for nine roller coaster months. Loving, squabbling, moving out then moving in again, only to repeat the fruitless pattern until Tim had had enough and moved out for the last time. Tim crushed out his cigarette and slumped down in his Eames armchair, and soon lapsed into a deep sleep.

“Tom! Wake up, buddy!”

“Huh? Oh. Good morning. And the name’s Tim Meyers.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, man!” said the lithe naked blond man standing by the arm of Tim’s chair.

“You needn’t be. I forgot your name too.”

“Then we’re even! I’m Rob. Robin Westland actually, but I go by Rob. How ya feeling?”

“Hung over, of course.”

“Hung too, I’d say. And you know how to use what God gave you! Sex was fantastic! Got any aspirins?”

“Sure, I’ll get you some. Why are you up so early? The sun hasn’t cracked the horizon yet.”

“Too darn hot, Tim. Doesn’t this building have air?”

“The air conditioning system went out yesterday. And this being Sunday, tonight will another stinker. Whew, I smell like a pig.”

“One sweaty pig can’t smell the other one. Besides, I like the smell of a man’s sweat. The sheet on my side is soaked. If I’m not being too impolite, sweat smells better than that cologne you’re wearing. Any cologne, for that matter. Makes me think I’m with a woman.”

“Do you do that? I mean, sleep with women.”

“Were you so plowed that you don’t remember whose legs went for the ceiling last night?”

“That proves absolutely nothing, Robin. Some so-called straight guys like to take it up the butt if they get the opportunity.”

“Where you sometimes their opportunity?”

“No!”

“Well, I’m strictly Gay. Tits and muffs are not my thing. Dicks and balls are. Sounds like you’ve screwed straight guys…., huh Tim?”

“None that I’m aware of. But you never know who cruises the bars nowadays. It would piss me off if I found out I’d screwed a closeted straight guy.”

“Maybe we should change the subject, Tim.”

“At least steer it in a different direction. Would you do me a favor?”

“If I can. What is it?”

“You are beautiful naked. Would you stand near the window in the morning sun so I can get a good look at the man I had such good sex with last night?”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re naked too.”

Tim perused Rob’s tanned body from head to toe. The crisp pattern of white skin clearly indicated that he sun-bathed in a skimpy bikini. His eyes were a clear blue and his blond hair was a full round mass of tight curls.

“I’m glad that you picked me up last night and brought my drunken bones home,” Tim said. “When I make it with someone, they’re seldom as attractive as you.”

“Thanks for the nice complement. I too consider myself lucky. Your hairy chest is a turn-on for me. Too many guys try to look like they’re teenagers by defoliating. I’m a man who likes men who look like men. I’m twenty-eight. You?”

“Thirty-two. You look younger, Robin.”

“Oh? Would you have shot me the signal last night if you thought that I were older?”

“I didn’t shoot you a signal…remember? You must have seen that I needed propping up, and came to my rescue.”

“When I first saw you, you were eyeing my face and crotch. You were just too inebriated to remember. Would you have taken me home and made love with me if you hadn’t been sloshed?”

“As horny and drunk as I was, I would have gone home with Howdy Doody.”

“That’s sure as hell no compliment to me!” said Rob, frowning.

“Wait, Robin…, I mean, Rob. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I know. I was just funning you. But this age thing. What’s with you older guys? Not that you really are old! I mean, why do all Gay men always want younger guys? I like older men. More mature. Usually a bit wiser. Sometimes ready to settle down.”

“Ha! If you thought I was all of that, you were dead wrong, except maybe the settling down part. Gay or straight, youth is were it’s at. I want to laugh and dance until I drop dead of old age.”

“Well, at least we have something in common in addition to our being very sexually compatible. Maturing doesn’t mean throwing in the towel and sitting in a rocker with a book instead of cuddling with a lifetime pardoner that you love.”

“How many?” asked Tim, holding the bottle of aspirins tilted over his other hand.

“Two will do it. Thanks. The sky’s getting pink and apricot. If you’d like, I’ll take you to breakfast after we’ve showered.”

“Uh, I’ve got some things to do today. Thanks anyway.”

“Things to do on Sunday? I get it. Last night wasn’t so hot for you, was it?”

“That’s not true! Well…, I could put the things off, I guess.”

“No, that’s okay, Tim. I’ve got things to do too. I’ll get dressed and get out of your nest.”

“And out of my hair?” said Tim. “Is that the way it sounded? I’m sorry. It’s just that I got no more than three hours sleep. Coffee?”

“Uh, sure. Black, please. But you’d better put on some underwear, or I’ll be wanting cream with my coffee.”

“With a couple of hours sleep and recuperation, I can give you all the cream you want,” said Tim, grinning. “Did I perform well last night or was I too damn drunk?”

“A-plus! You worry too much,” said Robin. Then he put his arms around Tim’s waist and drew him up tightly, feeling the warmth of his body and the scent of his sweat. He kissed Tim’s lips, then gently bit into the side of his neck.

“Stop!” said Tim, pulling away and softly laughing. “That drives me off the charts. I suppose my neck is red from last night.”

“You suppose right. Now, which is it…breakfast at IHOP or get some more sleep?”

“Sleep, Rob, and eat later. I only slept about three hours after we were finished making love.”

“Why only three?”

“You went spread eagle and forced me out. Trying to get cool I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Tim. You should have woke me and told me to keep on my side of the bed. Why don’t you go back to bed for a while?”

“I intend too.”

“Can I lie in bed with you and watch you sleep?”

“Why would you want to do a thing like that?”

“To see how you look when you’re not guarded. All of us humans have expressions that relate to what’s being said or what’s happening. But when we sleep we’re natural and innocent. I like that look.”

“Your reasoning doesn’t hold water. My brother dreams a lot, and his cheek twitches. His lips too, like he’s trying to talk.”

“Did you and him get it on?”

“Hell no! I certainly didn’t have sex with my brother!”

“I did with mine. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Tim.”

“My brother is not that liberal of thought. He’d bloody my nose if I tried anything like that. You’re really unique, aren’t you?”

“I work at it, Tim. I’ve always been a rebel.”

“Yeah? I wish I were.”

“We are what we want to be. It’s up to you. Think about that.”

Tim chuckled. “You’re something else, Rob,” he said. “Now, I’m going back to bed. Don’t let me sleep more than an hour and a half.”

“Have you got breakfast makings in the frig?”

“Anything you want. The eggs are fresh.”

“Tell you what. I’ll start breakfast a few minutes before I wake you, and we can have breakfast together. How’s that sound?”

“Too good to be true! Where have you been all my life?”

“Waiting patiently. I knew that I’d meet you last night.”

“What! You’re more than unique. You’re a bit weird!”

“No…psychic.”

“My God, you really are weird!”

“You don’t believe in such things. I knew you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t, but how could you know that?”

“I told you, I’m psychic.”

“Oh yeah? I told you that I’m thirty-two years old, but I lied. What’s my actual age?”

“You’re not being very nice. You really are thirty-two, and your birthday was three months ago.”

“Huh? Are you for real? How did you know that? Did I talk in my sleep or something?”

“No. If you want more proof, you’re a brunette, but your brother has dark red hair.”

“Jesus! You scare the hell out of me! What’s my brother’s name?”

“Roy, and he has a Gay lover.”

“He has not! He’s straight as a pencil and married. You really got it wrong that time, Rob.”

“No I didn’t. He never was married. He and some girl…I can’t quiet get her name, went to Vegas and got married. But they faked it. She’s a lesbian, and he’s Gay. It was all a ruse to fool your parents and hers. For appearances, they have the same addresses, but they live with their respective mates in two side-by-side apartments. The girls live together and so do the guys, and all of them are still in Las Vegas!”

Tim closed his eyes and violently shook his head like he was trying to shake away what he had heard. While his eyes were closed, Rob moved around behind his chair and bent forward and wrapped his arms around Tim and kissed him on the neck while he kneeded Tim’s bare pecs with his slender fingers like one would kneed dough.

“Why don’t you go to bed now,” he said. “I’ll make fresh coffee too.”

“Alright. The coffee is in… What am I saying! I’m sure you know where it is!” said Tim facetiously.

Robin burst out laughing. “I don’t know unimportant things like that, but I’ll find it. Now you go on to bed.”

“Am I going to sleep well?” asked Tim teasingly.

“I don’t know that either. Please don’t make fun of my gift.”

“Your gift? I don’t know what to say. I just don’t understand. How could you know my brother’s name?”

“You’ll understand this I’ll bet.” Rob stepped to the front of Tim’s chair and bent down and kissed his lips and ran his tongue along the roof of Tim’s mouth. Tim kissed him back enthusiastically, and then withdrew.

“I certainly do,” said Tim. “You baffle me, but sex was really good last night. I hope you actually are here when I wake up.”

“A team of horses couldn’t drag me away. I finally found who I want.”

“Stop talking like that! One good fuck does not make us a couple. If you like Gay reads, there are several such books on the top shelf of that bookcase. Now, I’m hitting the sack.”

“Sleep well.”

Tim opened the window in his bedroom as far as it would go and laid on top of the sheet in the nude. He was exhausted and soon dozed off.

 

He woke to the smell of bacon frying. Seconds later, Rob entered the bedroom.

“I was about to wake you, but I see you’re already awake,” he said.

“And you really are still here.”

“I said I would be. How do you like your eggs, and how many?”

“Three over easy, please.”

“How do you like your coffee, Tim?”

“Sweet, with no cream. How long did I sleep?”

“An hour. Now slap some water on your face and I’ll start the eggs.”

Tim did, and washed his privates as well and put on fresh underwear.

“They’re ready!” yelled Rob.”

“I’m on my way!” Tim went to the picture window and pulled the drapes shut. “We’ve got to keep some of this heat out. I see you’ve been reading one of my books.”

“Your book? Not that one. Do you know who the author is?”

“Of course! Jay Williams. That’s my writer’s pseudo name. I’m telling you, I wrote it.”

“You did? Never mind, I heard you. You’re fooling with my head, aren’t you?”

“No! Did you like the book?”

“Uh…yes. If you really did write it, you’re good! The characters all seem so damn real that it made me feel like I was a voyeur hidden in a closet listening in on someone’s most private moments.”

“In a way you were. Those stories really happened, but I’ve changed all the names.”

“You’re scaring me again! Did you interview guys then write their stories?”

“Not exactly. I had sex with them, and when I got home I wrote about the things they said and about sex with them without using my real name, and giving them different names too.”

“Oh…my…God! You didn’t!”

“Yes I did, Tim. No fiction can compare with the real life experiences of all of us. That’s probably why you thought my writing sounded real.”

“You and I had sex! Are you going to write about us too?”

“Of course not! Our life together will remain private and unwritten. Now that I’ve reached the end of my quest to find the right man, I’ll be writing children’s fictional stories. I’m real fond of kids.”

Tim swallowed the bite of egg in his mouth, then gulped some coffee. He felt like his private life had been invaded and it frightened him. What else, he wondered, might Rob know about him that he didn’t want Robin to know. It was more than he could handle. He grew angst-ridden and said…

“That’s it, Rob! I’ve heard all of the crap I can tolerate. You’re scaring the daylights out of me! Stop eating my food and get your ass dressed and get out of my apartment right now! And don’t ever call me or come back.”

“Alright, Tim. I knew this exact thing would happen, but this is not the end of us…it’s only the beginning. You’ll see. Last night was lovely, Tim. I’ll get dressed and go, but we’ll see each other again soon.”

Timothy was stunned by the entire episode. His disbelieving eyes followed Rob to the bedroom. When Rob emerged dressed, he smiled all the way to the door. He opened it and said…

“I left my business card on your dresser. I hope you call me soon. Goodbye for now,” and then he closed the door.

Tim sat staring at the door for a long moment, then he went to the bedroom and dressed. He took a bottle of bourbon from his small supply of liquor, and with a trembling hand, poured some booze over ice. He was deeply disturbed by Rob’s knowledge of things for which he had been given no information; not even a clue. As Tim pondered what Robin had said, he thought of one thing that he could check out--the marital status of Roy, his brother. He called his mother.

 

[Hello,]

“Hi mom. Would you give me Roy’s phone number?”

[He never gave it to you?]

“I wouldn’t be asking for it if I had it.”

[Every time I want to talk to him I have to call him. He never calls home and he never writes. I suppose his marriage is a good one. I’m pleased that you want to keep in touch with Roy.]

“I’ll get a little nosey. There are things I want to know. Would you please give me his number…now?”

[Oh…yes dear. How have you been?]

“Fine! The number, mom!”

Tim wrote down the number and apologized for being so brief, and hung up. He immediately called his brother.

[Hello, Mark here.]

“Mark who?” asked Tim.

[I guess you want to talk to Roy. We slept in late. Hold on.]

[Hi.]

“Hi, Roy, it’s your brother.”

[Uh…Tim! What a…, a surprise! Uh, how are you?]

“Okay. Have you been with Mark all the time since you left here?”

[Been with him! Mark? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mark is a friend who slept over.]

“How’s your wife?”

[My wife? Uh, oh yes…Jenny. Uh, she’s just fine.]

“How’s her lover?”

[What! That’s me! What are you getting at, Tim?]

“The man who answered the phone. Have you and Mark been lovers ever since you left here? Did you leave with him so the family wouldn’t know that you’re Gay? I want the truth and I won’t tell our parents.”

Tim waited for a response, but there was none. He decided that he’d say nothing until Roy did, or he got a receiver slammed in his ear.

[How did you find out, Tim?]

“If I told you, you’d think I was high on something. You know I’m Gay, so if you can’t trust me to keep my mouth shut, who can you trust?”

[Alright, big brother…it’s true, but don’t let our parents know. If they would find out that both of their sons are queer, it would devastate them.]

“I won’t. Would you write and tell me all about Mark?”

[Sure. But I want to know how you find out?]

“I’ll explain when I write you back. It’s been good talking to you, but I have to go now. Bye, Roy.”

Tim immediately hung up without waiting for Roy to respond. He swallowed the remainder of his drink and poured another. All he could think about were Robin’s words, and not just about Roy. The thought that Robin could enter his private realm, and there was nothing he could do about it, frightened him and made him quake. There was no doubting Rob now. But what to do about it seemed like an unachievable solution. Tim had always scoffed at things such as tarot cards, Ouija boards, séances and gypsy witches that shake a jar of chicken bones and scatter them on the ground and read the stories they tell that others could not see. And seers where no exception; that is, up to now. He had a scientific mind and thought that everything had to have a cause and effect that was eventually provable in one way or another. Never in his wildest thoughts had he believed that he would meet someone who was a gifted man who appeared to not be fake. Weariness from lack of sleep and tension was causing Tim’s head to bob. He slumped down in the couch a dosed off. His hand relaxed and the half full glass of bourbon slipped from his fingers and spattered on the carpet. That startled him and he got up and made his way to the bedroom and climbed in bed and lay on his back. He slept soundly for over an hour, then he began to dream and toss around. In his dream he found himself exiting an unfamiliar gay bar. When he exited the bar onto the sidewalk, a small gang of thugs saw him and rushed him yelling, “There’s a faggot! Let’s get him!” Before he could run he was surrounded. One of his assailants brandished a tire iron. Another grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind him. He saw someone across the street leap from his car and come running across the street toward them with a ball bat in hand. “Help me!” yelled Tim. He awoke suddenly and lurched to a sitting position and looked around. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his T-shirt and underwear were soaked with sweat and clinging to him. Through his bedroom window he could see a yellowish pink cloud and he knew that the sun was setting. He felt incredibly insecure and alone. He decided to go out to a Gay bar to be around a lot of people, but where? His favorite bar closed at three PM on Sundays. He decided that he wanted something different; something to take his mind off of disturbing thoughts; a significantly different ambiance. He had heard of a leather bar down by the waterfront. He wasn’t into sadism or masochism, but it might be amusing to look at bare butts and leather chaps and hairy chests adorned with silver studded black leather harnesses and nipples pierced with little silver rings and bodies adorned with colorful tattoos. He felt that he needed something greatly unique to divert his troublesome thoughts. So he showered and dressed in jeans and a red western shirt with pearl buttons. Then he hurriedly made a sandwich and flushed it down with pop. When he finally located the leather bar he was leery of the dark surroundings. It was among dock storage warehouses that house the goods brought in by boats from afar. The street lights were all far apart and did little good. He parked five cars from the entrance and observed for a while. Soon, five men dressed in full leather regalia entered the bar. It all looked benign, so he got out and went in. Tim immediately drew several critical stares. He found a vacant barstool between two stereotypical leather men. The bartender ambled his way and gave him the once-over.

“Hi, bub,” said the burly bartender dressed in leather. His chest and bare beer belly were carpeted with black curly hair. “Jack and a beer?”

“No. bourbon and sprite, please,” said Tim.

“I might have know.” said the bartender with a sneer, and started making the drink.

The man on Tim’s right leaned toward him and said…

“Hey…do you know where you’re at?”

“Of course,” said Tim, “I used to do the leather scene too,” he said, hoping to sound convincing.

The man shrugged and tilted his bottle of Bud. Tim paid for the drink and got off of the stool and slowly circulated around. The smell of sweat and foul odor of beer was making him nauseous. After one more drink he’d had enough of being ignored and even sneered at, so he left. The night air was humid and stifling, but at least it wasn’t foul. He had only walked twelve feet when he heard someone yell, “There’s one! Let’s get tha fag!” Before Tim could fully grasp what was happening, two young thugs swiftly approached him. One held a tire iron. One took a position to Tim’s left, and the other to his right. A desperate feeling shot adrenaline through him, but what could he do? He didn’t have a chance to get away and he knew it. One man grabbed a handful of Tim’s hair. Another grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. At that moment, just as in his nightmare, the door of a car parked across the street flew open. It was Robin, the oracle, and he was carrying a baseball bat and running toward them.

“Help me!” yelled Tim.

“I’m coming!” Robin yelled. “Leave him alone or I’ll break every fucking bone in your goddamn bodies!”

His yell got the attention of Tim’s assailants. The one holding the tire iron readied himself, and the thug grasping Tim’s hair turned loose. Suddenly, none of them were paying attention to Tim. The man wielding the tire iron advanced between parked cars and drew back his arm preparing to swing it at Robin, but the bat crashed into the shoulder of his other arm sending him reeling backwards. One hopped on the hood of a parked car with the intent of leaping down onto Robin. Tim rushed toward him and grabbed his ankles and jerked them backwards, sending him belly flopping onto the hood. Tim heard a thump as Rob’s bat came down hard on the prone man’s shoulder, causing him to yell with pain. The same one who had twisted Tim’s arm behind him did so again. This time, Tim slammed his elbow back into the man’s ribs, and the assailant let go.

“Run for my car!” Robin yelled to Tim as he too ran to his car.

Tim ran as fast as he could around to the other side of Rob’s car and got in. Rob was already in and he turned the key and raced the engine, then pealed rubber down the dimly lit street. Three blocks later he turned left, away from the docks, and at the next corner he turned right.

“Didn’t you know that was a bad part of town?” scolded Robin.

“I didn’t think it was that bad. If you knew it was bad, how come you were there?”

“To save your ass…that’s why!”

“What? How could you possibly have known that I was there?”

“I knew,” is all Rob said.

Then it hit Tim. “You’re fucking amazing, Robin!” he said. “You still frighten me. But if you hadn’t come along when you did, the bastards might have killed me. How can I ever thank you enough?”

“Simple. Come home with me and stay all night. Will you?”

“I can’t wear these cloths to work tomorrow. Damn, I’m loosing it! In the trauma and panic I forgot that I drove. We’ve got to go back so I can get my car. Why don’t we go to my place when I get it?”

“It’ll be my pleasure. Are you alright?”

“For the most part. The jerk twisted my arm so hard that my shoulder and elbow hurt, but not too badly. This gift thing. Did you somehow develop it?”

“No. I didn’t have it until my father was killed in an accident.”

“Do you communicate with him?”

“Again, no. I have no control over it. And I’m only able to envision things when they are somehow connected to people that I have some kind of attachment to.”

“You have no attachment to me.”

“Yes I do, Tim. You’re the man that I was meant to be with.”

“Not that again! It’s not that I don’t like you. You’re rather handsome in a boyish way, and that appeals to me. But I can’t live with someone who knows more about me than I know about myself. I’d be conscience of that every moment that I’m not asleep. Slow down. The red Mercury is my car. I don’t see those punks.”

“They’re someplace else by now making trouble for someone else. I’ll follow you to your place.”

Tim drove home a bit under the speed limit. He wanted time to think. He didn’t only owe Robin for coming to his rescue, he really did like him. After blocks of pondering he said aloud, “Screw it! I’ll just go with the flow, and whatever will happen…happens.” Tim was the first to park, and he waited for Robin in front of the apartment building. As Robin passed under the streetlight, his golden hair glowed and the light caused his red satin shirt to simmer. He was taller and more willowy than Tim had remembered. Tim went in first and unlocked the foyer door. When they closed the door of Tim’s second floor apartment, Robin put both arms around Tim and his hands on Tim’s hips and kissed him. Tim put his arms around Rob and pulled him up tight.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he said. “I don’t know how you knew I was there and in trouble, but I’m glad you did. I can offer you bourbon, a vodka and orange juice screwdriver or slow gin.”

“I’ll take the screwdriver, please.”

“While I fix one each, would you light those votive candles?”

“Sure. What kind of music do you have that’s kind of classic, not to heavy…more romantic?”

“Let’s see. Would you like Green Sleeves played on a guitar? And there are other guitar selections on the CD.”

“Perfect! I like your taste in music.”

Robin was sitting on the couch gazing at the flickering votives when Tim set the drinks on the coffee table. Then he sat close to Robin and pecked him on the cheek. Robin put his hand on Tim’s thigh.

“Tell me, Rob…did you see my brother’s face or somehow sense his name the other day?”

“I don’t really know. It just comes to me. Please, Tim, I don’t want to talk about things like that. I just want to be with you. Let’s don’t spoil this time together.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Rob. But I do have to know just one thing. Do you want to be with me because of some sort of premonition, or do you actually have feelings for me?”

“Both. The premonition, as you call it, was simply the tool, if you will, that caused me recognize that who I was meant to be with was you when I saw you in that bar last night. Sometimes my gift, as I call it, is frustrating because it comes with no explanation. Now, can we please talk about something else!”

“I’m sorry, Rob. But surely you know that you sound weird as hell.”

“Tim! If you don’t stop talking about it, I’m out of here!”

“Please don’t be upset. How’s your drink?”

“I haven’t tasted it yet.”

“Well, do more than taste it. I fell like getting a buzz on. Drink up.”

“Sounds right to me. That skirmish with those bullies upset me too, and I need the drink to relax.”

“Rob, there’s something that I feel I must tell you. I’m sorry that I doubted you. I called my brother, and you were right. If his lover hadn’t answered the phone, I don’t think he would have admitted that he was Gay. But he was kind of cornered. It seems he had a lesbian friend named Jenny. She was moving to Vegas to be with her lesbian lover, and Roy hatched up the plot to write back saying that he was married, and went out there with her. It was there that he met a guy named Mark. So you were right all along, and I apologize.”

“You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you made the phone call. Now you won’t think that I’m some sort of screwball trying to impress you to get attention.”

“You impress me enough by just being you,” said Tim, gently smiling. “You’re a good looking guy. That red shirt does you justice. And your blue eyes sparkle like fire opals. I’m glad you’ll be staying all night, and I hope you want sex too.”

“More than anything. Do I still frighten you?”

“Not now. How could I be frightened of a gift that brings good things.”

“You know, being a writer, I can choose my hours to work. But you have to go to work tomorrow. Can we go to bed and make love now?”

“What do you think?” said Tim as he unfastened the top two buttons of Rob’s shirt and reach in and tweaked his nipple. “Bring your drink with your passion and we’ll set the night on fire,” he said as he rose from the couch.

 

After five weeks of being constantly together, both men were deeply in love, and both sublet their apartments and moved into a two bedroom condo. One bedroom was set up for Robin’s computer, bookshelves and other things he needed. They began to have both groups of friends over for drinks and conversation. Out of respect for Robin, Tim never mentioned his psychic powers. He knew that Robin would be peppered with questions and doubts and possibly smirks, as he himself had done, and there was no reason to anyway. Other than a golden retriever acquired from the rescue club and the publication of Rob’s first children’s book, the months rolled by uneventfully until one evening when Rob woke up and shook Tim. Tim looked at the clock. “What’s wrong! Do you know what time it is? We had sex at one AM last night, and tomorrow’s a work day!”

“I’m sorry, but something is wrong?” said Rob.

“You’re sick?”

“No. It’s not that. I don’t know yet.”

“Don’t tell me you had another one of those psychic experiences.”

“I’m not sure, Tim. What ever it is, it’s serious.”

“Can’t it wait until morning?”

“I guess so. Sorry I woke you.”

“Well, just as long as you’re not sick. Good night again.”

“Good night, honey. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

When the alarm rang, Tim found himself in bed alone. It worried him because now that they lived together, Robin never got up before he did, and then made breakfast while Tim got ready for work. It was a cold winter night in February, and Tim pulled his robe tight over his pajamas and found Robin staring out the front picture window.

“Have you been up all night, Rob?”

“More or less. What subway train do you take to work?”

“What’s that got to do with you’re staying up all night?”

“Is it the A train?”

“Yeah. So what about it?”

“Do…not…take it today! Take the B train, even if you have to walk a few extra blocks! You must do as I say, Tim.”

“In this freak’n weather? Why?”

“I’m not sure. Please…just take the B!”

“You’re scaring me again!”

“I hope so. Promise me you’ll take the B train.”

“Crap! Okay, I’ll take a taxi from the B if it’s still sleeting like this. That stuff stings. There…are you happy now?”

“Yes, if you mean it.”

“Okay, Okay! Now calm down. That coffee smells good. Pour me a cup, please. And fry two over easy while I shower.”

Robin seemed to be walking on razors. His movements were kind of mechanical. Tim was at a loss as to how to put Robin at ease.

“The sidewalks are going to be slick as snot, so be careful when you walk Blondie,” Tim said, and then kissed Robin goodbye.

 

Tim held the collar of his coat tight around his neck, but the wind driven snow bit into his cheeks. He boarded the B train and watched the blizzard outside. The train slowed to a stop, but there was no platform. Over the speaker the conductor said, “Be patient, folks. There’s a problem ahead. Everyone will have to dismount at the next station. We’re sorry for the inconvenience.” There was plenty of grumbling to be heard. The train crept forward and stopped at the next station. The buses were so overcrowded that Tim had to take the second one. He was shivering when he reached the office. His boss; Jerry Green, approached looking worried.

“Sorry boss. Something was wrong on th…”

Jerry cut him off. “I know. I’m certainly glad to see you!”

“You know what?” I asked.

“Haven’t you heard? The A train is on fire! God help all those people! Four of the employees aren’t here yet, and I’m worried. Someone named Robin has called four times asking for you.”

“Holy Shit! Uh…thanks, Jerry. I’ll call him right away.” Tim went to his desk and phoned.

[Hello!]

“You knew, didn’t you!” said Tim.

[Tim! Am I ever glad to hear your voice.]

“You could have warned the subway service and maybe saved all those people! Why didn’t you?”

[I can’t be sure about things like that! What if I had been wrong?]

“Better you be wrong than loose all those lives!”

[Please don’t scold. You’re putting me between a rock and a hard place. I was scared stiff that you wouldn’t take my advice.]

“I’m glad I did. You’ve saved my cookies again. The subway might not be running when I get off. Come down and pick me up after work.”

[Sure, honey. I’m glad you’re safe. Goodbye.]

All Tim could think of was…‘It happened again. I’ve never believed in guardian angels, but Rob must be mine‘. As promised, Robin was parked across the street when Tim exited work. ‘At least it’s stopped sleeting‘, he thought. He scooted across the cold seat and put his hand on Robin’s thigh. Rob smiled and winked, then started the car and pulled out.

“Thank you again, wise one,” said Tim. “Aside from saving my ass twice, you’ve brought me more happiness than one man deserves.”

“You deserve the best, Tim. I’d be a walking dead man if you’d burned up in that train. Without you, life would have no meaning.”

“Yes it would, you sentimental brute. Men like you don’t stay single long. I must be the luckiest man on the planet. Let’s get drunk and make love when we get home.”

“Can I have the pleasure of being the top guy tonight?” asked Rob.

“You can have anything you want, and you know it. I love you.”

 

The winter began to wane and only a few patches of snow remained. The crocus announced the beginning of spring and the dogwood would soon be bursting into full blossom. Tim bought a ten speed bike for Robin’s birthday and bought one for himself. Robin was almost finished writing his second children’s book for ages six to ten, and Tim started a new job with much better pay. On a warm Saturday, they went to a travel agency and gathered brochures for a trip to Spain. They had turned to leave when Rob stopped cold in his tracks. His hand relaxed and the brochures fluttered to the floor.

“Rob! Are you okay,” said Tim in alarm. Robin’s face had turned ashen. His eyes stared straight ahead blankly. “Rob? What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Oh! Nothing, Tim. Nothing at all.”

“Yes there is! I’m getting you home as fast as I can so you can lie down and rest. Wait on the sidewalk while I bring the car around.”

“Yeah…let’s do that. Go on. I’ll wait outside.”

They exited the building and Tim rushed and double parked while Rob got in.

“You looked like you were going to pass out!” said Tim.

“I feel better now. Let’s get out of here.”

“Do you want to go to the emergency room for a check up.”

“No! I’ll be alright. Don’t nag!”

“Nag! Bullshit! If you don’t look better by the time we get home, I’m taking you to the emergency room whether you like it or not.”

Tim drove as fast as he dare without getting a ticket. By the time they parked in front of the condo, Robin looked much better.

“You see, Tim, I’m fine now. I’ll rest on the couch while you fix me a bourbon and seven.”

“You’ll take some aspirins too. You scared me.”

“You worry too much, honey. Let’s drop the subject…okay?

“Alright, babe.”

Rob’s reassurance didn’t totally convince Tim, but he said nothing more about it. He insisted that Rob crawl in bed and rest after he finished his drink. Tim listened to classic music turned down low while he read a book about dragons and knights and corrupt kings. He fixed a salad and tomato soup for Robin at dinner time, and insisted he go to bed early. They crawled under the covers and Tim held Robin in his arms until he knew that Robin was asleep, then eased his arm from under his head and went to sleep himself. In the morning, Blondie nudged his arm and whined.

“What’s the matter girl. Do you need to go out?”

She hopped in bed and stepped over him. Tim looked and saw that Robin wasn’t in bed. “Get down, girl,” he said, then climbed out of bed. Robin wasn’t in the living room either. Tim went into his work room and found him lying on the floor face down.

“Rob!” yelled Tim, and went to his knees beside Robin. He grabbed Rob by the shoulder to turn him over and found that his shoulder was cold and stiff. “Oh my God! Rob! Rob! Wake up!” he yelled. But he already knew that his lover was dead. Tim fell upon his body and started bawling, brushing Rob’s hair as he did. Blondie began licking Tim’s face, but Tim was unaware of the dog. He lay on Rob’s body convulsing as he cried like he had never cried before, with his arms wrapped around Rob’s waist and chest. When he finally settled down, he raised to a sitting position and stared at Rob’s writing room, strewn with sheets of wadded up paper and shelves of books and the computer. The screen was black, but the green light on the tower was blinking. Out of a strange sense of duty, he struggled to his feet and plopped down in the computer chair and clicked the mouse with the intentions of turning off the computer. A white screen appeared with a long paragraph typed on it. The words at the top caught his eye.

I love you, my darling, but now I must say goodbye. You brought real meaning into my life and made me whole. I never told you about my weak heart. I was born that way. While we were sleeping, I had a mild attack. So I got up and started this note. I hope I can finish it. I knew this would happen when we were walking out with the brochures, but there was no need to spoil our remaining hours together by telling you. Take good care of yourself and Blondie. Kiss her for me. I don’t know if I can will you my psychic power, but I’m trying to. If I can, I hope it serves you well. There’s a picture in my wallet of us together. James took it, remember? Take it out and carry it on you to remember me by. It also might help to transfer my power. I just now had another sharp pain in my chest, so I guess I’d better end thi

 

‘Rob must have had the heart failure at that moment‘

, thought Tim. Once again tears rolled down his cheeks, and he doubled up with his hands clasped between his thighs and rocked forward and backward in his grief. He had difficulty in locating Rob’s relatives, but when he reached an aunt, she passed it on, and twenty-four people showed up at the funeral. Tim took home a large arrangement of white lilies and red roses. Eight days went by, and Tim was at his new job when he was suddenly struck with a thought that shook him up. He could hardly wait for the work day to end. He went straight to Rob’s computer and turned it on. He stared at the keys, not knowing much about computers, but he knew how to type although he wasn’t good at it. After a few attempts and misses, he located the children’s story that Rob had not yet finished. He read it through to get a sense of it and nervously hovered his fingers over the keys and began. Creative thoughts seemed to flow like water from the tips of his fingers, as though they were being guided. He typed half of a page and looked at the results in amazement. The copy seemed to fit the story perfectly. Confidence flowed into his fingers and he robotically typed another page, then started another while not knowing where the story should conclude. He became aware of his heart pounding in his chest, and he closed his eyes for a moment and took deep breaths. He knew exactly what was happening and grew giddy with excitement. Rob was speaking through his fingers. “You’re here!” yelled Tim at the top of his voice, and he began to laugh and cry at the same time. He wiped the tears from his eyes, turned his head toward the ceiling and shut his eyes. “Thank you, my darling. It seems you’ve passed your gift on to me in a different form. Oh God, how I love you! I’ll finish your story, and if it turns out good…and I know it will because you’re really the one who’s finishing it, I’ll name you as author, and have the royalties go to a children’s hospital.”