319 Winesap Lane - 25. Chapter 25 - Passages

Multiple POVs

“Do you actually think this will work?” Dr. Avianca asked. She looked down at Jerry who had a breathing tube sticking out of his mouth.

“No guarantees, as I told you before,” the attending pulmonologist said.

“Lucia, you wanted to try this,” the attending neurologist said. “If he does come around, there’s no guarantee that he will be conscious for any significant length of time.”

“Okay, Dr. Sampson, give him the injection,” Dr. Avianca said.

The neurologist injected the medicine into the IV and the doctors waited for the boy to wake up. When he opened his eyes and looked around the room, the pulmonologist said, “Okay, son, I’m going to pull out the breathing tube. You may feel the need to cough. It’s okay to do that.”

The tube came out and, just according to the doctor’s prediction, Jerry coughed until he was able to clear his throat. He looked at his psychiatrist and said, “Oh, hi, Dr. Avianca; am I in the hospital, again?”

“Yes, Jerry. Do you remember what you were doing before you lost consciousness?”

“I was just about to have sex with a friend. Is that what caused me to pass out?”

“It might have, but I think that day you fainted in your house and collapsed, hitting you head on the floor had much more to do with it.”

“Have you found out why I’m sane, now?”

“Jerry, I believe you had a small cerebral hemorrhage that first day, the second one, when you were having sex, was more massive.”

“Is that why my skin feels like it’s trembling?”

“Yes, that’s probably the cause, but there is something else more seriously wrong with you.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry; this is never easy to say, but you’re dying. There’s nothing we can do about the bleeding in your brain.”

“How long?”

“A few hours, maybe, if that. Dr. Johnson is here with all the boys from his foster home. They’re outside right now. Can I ask them to come in?”

“Yeah, I guess. Do they know?”

“Yes, Jerry, they know.”

Jerry watched Dr. Avianca and the other doctors leave the room. Soon, the door opened and Geoff escorting Erik followed by Jamie, Billy, Steven, and a boy he’d never seen, but figured must be Ian came into the room. They gathered around the bed, but Ian hung back as if he wasn’t a part of the family, yet.

“Hi, Geoff,” Jerry said.

“How’s my boy?”

“Okay, I guess, but you know the truth, so there’s no need to lie. Do me a favor, if you could.”

“Anything, Jerry, whatever you want.”

“Write a letter to my great-grandfather telling him I died. I want to be cremated and please spread my ashes in the rose beds. I want to stay at 319 forever.”

“Sure thing. Why don’t you want me to tell your parents?”

“They’re not my parents anymore. Ian come here, I want to talk to you.”

“Me? Why me?” the boy said as he made his way to the bed.

“Ian, this is very important. All the boys at 319, except for Steve, are gay, if you haven’t figured that out by now, but I don’t want you to fear them or Geoff. No one at 319 is going to do anything to hurt you. You’ve got my promise on that. Okay, for me?”

“Okay, I’ll try to remember that.”

“Steve?”

“My name is Steven,” the boy said as he made his way to the head of the bed.

“Okay, Steven. I want to tell you something special,” Jerry said.

“Yes, Jerry? Jerry? Sir, he’s not blinking his eyes?”

“Okay, boys, out of the room,” Dr. Johnson said. In the hall, he saw Dr. Avianca talking to the other two doctors. “Dr. Avianca? I think Jerry just died. Please check.”

She and one of the other doctors went into Jerry’s room where she felt his carotid artery and didn’t feel a pulse. The other doctor used his stethoscope to check the boy’s heart then pulled the blanket up over Jerry’s head, and said, “Shall we say he died at 3:15 p.m.?”

“Yes, that’s fine, Dr. Francis,” Dr. Avianca said.

“Was he your patient long?”

“No, not long.”

“You know his prognosis was never very good since the shooting. There was always the chance this was going to occur. It was only a matter of time.”

“Yes, but I’ll still miss him. I guess I’d better go out and tell the family.”

“They’re family?”

“Yes, Dr. Johnson has a foster home for boys in need. Kind of like Jerry here.”

When Dr. Avianca got out in the hallway she walked up to Geoff and slowly shook her head. She said, “I’m sorry, he’s passed.”

“I’ve never seen anyone die before,” Steven blubbered as he hung his head beside Geoff.

“I can call the on-duty pastor, if you’d like,” Dr. Avianca said.

“No, that’s okay, our next-door neighbor is a pastor,” Geoff said. “Come along, boys, let’s go home.”

“Geoff, we don’t have any rose beds,” Jamie said as they walked toward the elevators. “What was Jerry talking about?”

“I guess he wants me to put in a rose bed or two.”

“That’s weird,” Billy said. “Are we going to tell his friends?”

“I’ll take care of that,” Geoff said.

* * *

The boys were very subdued as Geoff started back to Warnton in his new black Expedition he’d bought earlier that month figuring with all the boys in the house it would be a lot easier transporting them to various activities in the area with one big vehicle. He thought about getting a big van, but decided against that because an Expedition would hold all the boys he intended to have in the house; as it stood now there was room for only two more boys in the Expedition. Today, Erik sat in the front passenger seat, Billy and Jamie were in the second seat, and Steven and Ian were in the third seat.

He tried not thinking of Jerry, but the boy was forefront in his mind and he couldn’t shake the feeling that a day would soon come when he and the boys would stand among newly planted rose bushes and spread Jerry’s ashes on the freshly tilled soil. Death had already passed his being with the taking of his father, little sister, step-father, uncle, and lifelong lover. He knew the anguish and heartache that was going to come to the boys in the days ahead; and, he knew that he had to be the rock that the boys would need. He would offer whatever comfort he could give, but he knew that each boy had to deal with this new reality on his own. Now, riding in the Expedition on the road to Warnton the boys were lost in their grief and there was nothing he could do until they got home. He opened the center console and took out the CD case.

“Jamie, could you select something that you think Jerry would’ve wanted to listen to,” he said as he reached back.

Jamie took the case and began to thumb through the CDs looking for something that was a favorite of Jerry. He was almost to the end when he found the “2112” CD by Rush.

“Here, for some reason Jerry seemed to like this one,” Jamie said as he handed the CD to Geoff.

Geoff inserted the CD in the player and listened to the familiar introduction to the “2112 Overture.” He never understood why Jerry insisted on listening to Rush. Of course, he was a child of the fifties and sixties, while Jerry grew up listening to Rush and other prog rock bands before glam rock, punk, and grunge swept the scene. He thought he was cultured because he listened to The Beatles and The Rolling Stones before starting to listen to Bette Midler when he moved to his uncle’s mansion in Hollywood while attending college in LA. He never figured it out why gays preferred listening to a chanteuse in a gay bar rather than some new rock band with their slender bodies at the Hollywood Bowl, which he was oft to attend.

“What are we going to do about dinner?” Erik asked.

“Oh, I’ll figure something out,” Geoff said. “Maybe, I’ll order pizzas.”

“I don’t want pizza,” Ian said from the far backseat.

“What do you want?” Geoff asked.

“I don’t know, but I know I don’t want pizza,” Ian said.

“Okay, that’s one ‘no’ for pizza. Any other requests?”

“He just died when he wanted to talk to me,” Steven said. “I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“McDonalds is okay with me,” Erik said. “Maybe a Number 1 with a root beer.”

“How many more for Mickey D’s?” Geoff asked.

“Can I have a Happy Meal?” Steven asked.

“I thought you said you didn’t want anything to eat,” Billy said.

“But, why can’t I have a Happy Meal?” Steven whined.

“Steven, you can have a Happy Meal,” Geoff said.

“Thank you, sir,” Steven whispered.

“What was that?” Geoff asked.

“I said thank you, sir,” Steven said.

“Good boy,” Geoff said. “Okay, Mickey D’s is coming up. You other boys figure out what you want. I don’t want to have to sit at the ordering microphone for hours while you decide what you want to eat.”

“Are we going inside or can we eat in the Expedition?” Billy asked.

“We can eat in here if you want,” Geoff said.

“I’d like to do that,” Erik said.

“Me, too,” said Jamie.

After they all had their dinners and Billy took the wastepaper to the trash receptacle, Geoff started the black rig and reinserted the CD. He drove out of the parking lot and headed east on Ridge Road intending on connecting with Highway 104 east to Warnton.

“Can we go back on Lake Road?” Erik asked.

“Why should we do that; you can’t see the lake,” Jamie said.

“Please, just for me this time,” Erik said.

“Okay, son, I’ll take us back on Lake Road,” Geoff said.

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jamie said. “Driving home along the shore of Lake Ontario so a blind kid can enjoy the view.”

“You don’t understand a thing about what Jerry means to me,” Erik yelled. “Why can’t I just have it my way for once?”

“Okay, okay, I hope you enjoy the view,” Jamie said.

“Hey, take it easy on the kid,” Billy said. “Maybe, he was down there with Jerry once and just wants to remember how it was.”

“But, he’s blind!” Jamie exclaimed. “He can’t see the lake, the lakefront homes, or anything along the road.”

“Jamie, I’m going down to Lake Road, so just be quiet and enjoy the ride,” Geoff said.

“Maybe, I don’t want to go home that way. Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Not this time,” Geoff said.

“Yeah, so shut the fuck up,” Billy said.

“Billy! You know the rule, no swearing,” Geoff said.

“Yes, sir,” Billy said.

“Ian, can I sleep with you tonight?” Steven whispered.

“Uh, why?”

“I don’t want to sleep alone and the other boys are gay. They might want to do things. You know?”

“I don’t think they’d do anything to you.”

“But, you don’t know; do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“So, can I sleep with you?”

“I’m okay with it, but you’re going to have to get Mr. Johnson’s permission.”

“Will you go with me when I ask?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you, you’re nice,” Steven whispered.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ian whispered.

“What?”

“Why don’t you go by Steve?”

“I don’t know; everyone has always called me Steven. Do you want to call me Steve?”

“I’d like to, if it’s okay with you.”

“Just us; okay? What do I call you? Ian doesn’t sound like it can get any shorter.”

“Well, let’s see, how about you call me Mike or Jim? They’re from my middle names.”

“You have two middle names?”

“Yes, it’s common in the old country.”

“What old country?”

“Ireland.”

“Oh; is that where you’re from?”

“No; that’s where my people came from.”

“Oh; can I call you Jimmy? I had a friend where I used to live named Jimmy.”

“Okay, Steve, I’m Jimmy to you and only you.”

“Can I sit next to you. I promise I won’t touch you.”

“Okay, at the next stoplight or stop sign you can move over,” Ian whispered as he wondered what Steve meant when he said he wouldn’t touch him. He knew there was something wrong with that statement, but maybe Mr. Johnson would let him know what was with Steve.

“There don’t seem to be any of those on this road,” Steven whispered. He unclipped his seatbelt and scooted across the seat.

“Hey! Who undid their seatbelt?” Geoff hollered as he pulled over onto the meager shoulder on the side of the road and stopped the rig. A car honked its horn as it slipped by. “Come on, who’s the guilty party?”

“It was me, sir,” Steven said. “There I refastened it.”

“What are you sitting next to Ian for?” Jamie asked.

“’cuz I want to,” Steven said. “He doesn’t mind, so why do you?”

“Geoff, Steven has moved over next to Ian,” Jamie said.

“That’s okay; maybe, he just needs a little comfort right now,” Geoff said.

“Oh, yeah, I guess he did get quite a shock with Jerry dying with him right there.”

Geoff was about to go on his way when a Monroe County sheriff’s car pulled in behind him with its lights flashing. He sighed and watched the deputy exit his vehicle and come up on the passenger side of the rig. He pushed the window switch for Erik’s window and waited for the deputy.

“Hey, what’s up?” Erik asked.

“Police; probably wants to know why I’m partially blocking traffic,” Geoff said.

“Oh.”

The deputy came up to the window and looked in; and, then he asked, “Have a problem, sir?”

“One of the boys in the backseat undid his seatbelt and I pulled over to see what the problem was,” Geoff said.

“So, is everything okiedokey?”

“Yes; in fact, I was just getting ready to go on my way when you came up behind me.”

“Well, you are on a double-blind curve and very few people who live along here obey the speed limit. If everything is okay, I guess you can go. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you, deputy, for your concern.”

“Oh, one thing, these boys, they don’t look like you one bit. Are they a church youth group of some sort that you’re escorting on a fieldtrip?”

“No, deputy, I’m their foster father and we just came from the Rochester medical center where a friend of theirs just died. One of the boys wanted to go home on Lake Road in remembrance of his friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I had to ask.”

“I know, deputy, some things are not as innocent as they appear. Good day,” Geoff said. When the deputy turned to walk back to his car, he raised Erik’s window and pulled out onto the road.

“Nosey, SOB,” Jamie said.

“Just doing his job,” Geoff said.

“But, why did he assume we were a church group?” Billy asked.

“Probably because we don’t look like boy scouts,” Jamie said.

“Oh, yeah, no uniforms,” Billy said. “You know the houses along here aren’t all that big, but they all seem to be on huge lots. Too bad we don’t live down here.”

“You’d have to give up Per and I would have to leave Curt,” Jamie said.

“Oh, yeah, that’d be a huge bummer.”

“I could look into buying a place down near Sodus Point,” Geoff said.

“But, we’d still have to change schools and I’ve heard the people over in Sodus aren’t all that friendly toward gays,” Jamie said.

“I could homeschool you guys,” Geoff said.

“All of us?” Billy asked.

“Sure, why not?”

“Me, too?” asked Steven.

“You, too, Steven,” Geoff said.

“Do you think Jerry would like living down on the lake?” Erik asked.

“I think he would be happy wherever we are,” Geoff said. “Is everyone in favor of me looking into buying property down near Sodus Point?”

“I’m okay with it,” Erik said.

“We’re okay with it, right Jamie?” Billy said.

“How about you two in the back?” Geoff asked.

“Yes, we’re for it,” Ian said.

“Good, I’ll contact a real estate agent in the morning,” Geoff said.

* * *

That evening Geoff sat in his study looking up real estate agents serving Wayne County until he came across a link to real estate listings in his area. He was looking at a twenty acre lot that wasn’t beachfront, but was across the street from a community park that had a sizable shoreline. He looked up and saw Steven and Ian come into the study; and, unexpectedly Ian shut the door.

“Can we talk to you in private?” Ian asked.

“I don’t see why not, you did shut the door,” Geoff said. “What’s up?”

“Steve here wants to sleep with me tonight,” Ian said.

“I thought we weren’t going to share our private names with others,” Steve said.

“It’s okay if Mr. Johnson knows,” Ian said.

“Okay, Jimmy,” Steve said.

“I see you two are getting close?” Geoff asked. “That’s good.”

“I told Jimmy I don’t want to do naughty things like David made me do; I just want to be close to him tonight,” Steve said.

“Okay boys you have my permission on this considering what happened earlier,” Geoff said.

“Thank you, sir,” Steve said.

“Yeah, thank you,” Jimmy said. “Come on, Steve, let’s go see what the other boys are doing.”

“They’re with their boyfriends,” Steve said, “except for Erik. I think he’s alone in his room.”

“Then we’ll go visit Erik.”

Geoff watched the two boys walk out the door and he returned to perusing the piece of property he’d seen online. According to the description the lot had water, sewer, electricity, and gas at the street. The price was two hundred and fifty thousand, but he didn’t know if that was reasonable for that area. Considering it was just across the street from the community park, maybe there was something wrong with it. Finally, he decided he had to know more about the property. He picked up the receiver of his land line and dialed the number of the agent.

After four rings he heard the sound of someone answering and a voice that said, “Hello?”

“Angela Rawlins?”

“Yes?”

“This is Geoffrey Johnson up in Warnton. I saw the property you have for sale down in Sodus Point and I was wondering if you can give me some information on it.”

“Which property are you interested in; I have six properties in that community.”

“This is the twenty-acre vacant lot across the street from the community beach.”

“Oh, yes, would you like to see it?”

“I was concerned about the price; it seems a little low.”

“Oh, no, you see it’s across the street from the community beach and there is a lot of traffic down there in the summer. A lot of people park on the side of the road.”

“So, it would be advisable for me to put in some sort of barrier like a fence or a bramble hedge.”

“Yes, that would be advisable. Plus, you might consider a gate into your property.”

“Yes, I suppose that would be advisable, also. When can I see the property?”

“I’m free tomorrow; say about one o’clock in the afternoon?”

“That’ll be fine; see you then.”

Geoff hung up the phone and looked across the desk at Jamie.

“Yes?” Geoff asked.

“Were you calling about some property down in Sodus Point?” Jamie asked.

“Yes, would you like to go with me to look at it tomorrow?”

“I have school.”

“Oh, yes, you’re right.”

“Take Erik; he’ll be able to give a good report.”

“I can write notes for all of you other boys.”

“No, we’re foster kids. The real estate agent might be intimidated by our presence. Erik is your adopted son. It’ll look good when you start talking about landscaping.”

“What kind of house do you want me to build?”

“Something all on one level would be nice.”

“Okay, if I buy the land I want you to find me an architect.”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, I want you to adopt me.”

“Okay, Jamie, I’ll call the lawyer and get the paperwork started.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Geoff sat in his easy chair in his study reading L’Étranger by Albert Camus while his charges read their assigned books. Because it had been a very eventful day he allowed each of the boys to have a small glass of red wine diluted in accordance to each of their ages. He felt that the wine might help them sleep, but was ready to come to their aid in case anyone of them might have a troubling dream. The experience of having a close friend die always tended to be traumatic in unknown ways. He feared most for Steven who had been closest to Jerry when he died, but Steven wanting to spend the night with Ian was encouraging and he didn’t expect the boy to be troubled by a bad dream.

“Sir? Why did that woman doctor say that Jerry passed when he actually died?” Steven asked.

“Steven, some people have trouble with expressing the fact that someone has died and they say that the person has passed or passed on in the belief that the deceased’s spirit has left the body and passed on to the spirit world,” Geoff said.

“That’s stupid,” Steven said. “Jerry just died. I don’t know where his spirit went, but he just died. Why couldn’t she say that?”

“Well, I suppose she said that he passed in the belief that we might be members of a religion that doesn’t accept the simple death of the body. Do you understand what I just said?”

“She said Jerry passed because she thought we couldn’t accept that he died?” Steven asked.

“Yes, that’s right,” Geoff said.

“See, that’s what’s wrong with religion,” Ian said. “All this namby-pamby talk about people passing on when they just die. Why can’t people simply accept that?”

“It’s because she thought we were children and we couldn’t accept the fact that Jerry died,” Erik said. “They always assume we can’t handle the facts of life.”

“Well, I know I can handle the facts of life,” Jamie said. “Just ask Curt.”

“You got that right,” Billy said.

“Why do you two always have to reduce things to talk about sex?” Erik said.

“Probably, because we’re getting it and you’re not,” Jamie said.

“Fuck you!” Erik said.

“I’m man enough; are you girl enough?” Jamie asked.

“Now, now, enough of that talk,” Geoff said.

Steven softly touched Ian’s forearm and whispered, “They’re talking naughty, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” Ian whispered.

“Can we go to bed now?” Steven asked.

“Are you finished with your chapter?” Ian asked.

“No; do I have to finish it?” Steven asked.

“That’s the rule,” Ian said.

“Phooey!” Steven exclaimed.

Geoff sat there contentedly watching the boys interact and a stray thought came to his mind of Jerry sitting in his chair—which surprisingly remained empty—reading his Anthropology textbook and drinking his single malt scotch. He felt a tear dribble out of his left eye and heard the front doorbell chime.

“Who’s coming to our home this time of night?” Jamie asked.

“I hope it’s not a new kid,” Billy said.

“Yeah, we’re getting kinda close and don’t need some new kid messing up the works,” Erik said.

“Now, now, boys you know we have open bedrooms and we just have to accept the fact that a new boy might come to our house,” Geoff said as he got up and made his way to the door. He walked out of the study and down the hall to the foyer where—at the front door he peered through the peephole—he opened the door and saw Bill Daniels standing next to a skinny boy of indeterminate age holding a medium sized duffle bag.

“Bill, come in, and who is this?” Geoff said as he pulled the door open wide to allow Bill Daniels and the boy room to come inside.

“Geoff, this is Troy Hensley; he needs a home,” Bill said.

“Hello, Troy, welcome to my home,” Geoff said.

The boy stared at the floor and didn’t say anything.

“Is there somewhere Troy can wait while we talk?” Bill asked.

“Certainly, all the boys are in the study reading their nightly assignments,” Geoff said. “Come along Troy and I’ll introduce you to the boys of the house.”

Leaving Bill in the foyer, Troy followed Geoff back through the hall to the study. All the boys, except for Erik, stood up when the new boy came into the room.

“Boys, this is Troy Hensley; he’s come to live in our home,” Geoff said. “Please make him welcome while I speak with Bill Daniels.”

Geoff walked back to the living room where Bill was sitting on the green brocade sofa looking at a copy of the book Chanel: Collections and Creations by Danièle Bott. He looked up when Geoff sat beside him.

“Nice book,” Bill said.

“Yes, I try to have a good selection of books for guests,” Geoff said. “So, what’s the boy’s situation?”

“His mother OD’d on heroin last week and his father is in Attica doing fifty to life for murder. He has a grandmother he doesn’t remember down in Greenville, Mississippi, and an uncle in Meridian who he’d rather not see again for some reason. He’s been having trouble in school because, well, he’s soft spoken, speaks with a slight lisp, and has various gay affectations. He says he’s not gay, but I suspect that’s because his parents couldn’t accept a gay boy living in their home. I brought him here because, well, I thought your boys might be able to help him.”

“I see,” Geoff said.

Meanwhile in the study, Troy stood in the doorway staring at the other boys. He didn’t know what to expect from a room full of white boys, but he suspected they weren’t going to take a liking to him simply because he was Black.

“Hi, Troy, my name is Jamie.”

“Hi,” Troy whispered.

“I’m Billy.”

“I’m Erik. I’m blind so I can’t see you.”

“I’m Ian and the little one here is Steven. Where are you from?”

“What it to you?” Troy asked.

“Just making conversation,” Ian said. “We all come from different places and I was just wondering where you’re from?”

“I live in Lyons,” Troy said.

“Did you go to high school down there?” Erik asked.

“No, middle school.”

“Oh, so you’re, what thirteen or fourteen?” Billy asked.

“No, I be fifteen, I havin’ trouble with school.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Mr. Daniels brought you here,” Jamie said. “All of us help everybody else with their school work. Even Geoff helps out sometimes.”

“Who Geoff?”

“That’s the man who owns this house,” Erik said.

“He help you boys with your school work?”

“Why don’t you come over here and park your ass on something soft,” Jamie said.

Troy dropped his duffle bag and went over to Jerry’s old chair. He was about to sit down when Billy said, “No, don’t sit there. That’s Jerry’s chair.”

“Oh, sorry, where can I sit?” Troy said.

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to sit there, since there aren’t any other chairs, except for Geoff’s, of course,” Jamie said.

“Are you sure is okay? I don’ want to make this Jerry dude mad,” Troy said.

“That’s okay; Jerry died this afternoon,” Erik said. “I guess you can be the new occupant of the chair.”

“Are you sure it okay? I don’ want to give the wrong impression since I new.”

“No, go ahead,” Jamie said.

“You all readin’ books. What with that?”

“Everybody gathers here at night to read for an hour,” Jamie said.

“What kinda books do you read?”

“Oh, Geoff picks out the books we read.”

“Books by white writers you mean.”

“Are you Black? You don’t look it,” Jamie said.

“Course I Black, why can’ you see it? Is plain as day. Course Momma white, but man who rape her was Black. That what they always tol’ me. I black as nigga from Af’ca.”

Geoff walked into the study, but stood at the door watching the boys interact with Troy. From what he saw, he didn’t have any worries that this was going to work.

“Troy, could you come over here?” Geoff asked. “I want to give you a book to read.”

“Yes, suh.”

“What kind of books do you like to read?”

“I don’ read much, ’cept books in school.”

“Okay, you’re fifteen, but still in eighth grade and not reading on your own. Let’s see what I’ve got for a boy your age. Oh, here’s one you might like,” Geoff said as he pulled Where the Red Fern Grows from the bookshelf. “Here try this one.”

“Is this dude white?”

“Why, yes, of course.”

“I don’ like readin’ books by white folk.”

“He thinks he’s black,” Billy said.

“You do?” Geoff asked.

“Of course, can’ you see it?”

Geoff stared at the skinny, blue eyed, sandy haired boy with close set eyes, a long straight nose, and thin lips. Troy was the very definition of a Nordic white boy. He wondered why Troy so strongly believed he was black.

“Jamie, I think we’ll put Troy in the bedroom next to Steven. Go ahead and take him upstairs and get him settled in. Troy, welcome to 319 Winesap Lane, I hope you find your stay here pleasant and peaceful.”

“Thank you, suh. What should I do with this book?”

“Oh, leave it on the table beside your chair. It’ll be there when you come down tomorrow night to read with the others.”

Jamie led Troy out of the study down the hall and up the stairs to the second floor where he said, “This door here is to Ian’s suite, across the hall was Jerry’s suite.”

At the next set of doors, he said, “This is Billy’s suite and across the hall is Erik’s suite. Down here at the cross hall, on the left is Steven’s and on the right is your suite. You’ll be sharing a bathroom with Steven.”

“Who do the cleanin’ here?”

“Well, it used to be done by Jerry. But, since he died today, I suppose we’ll have to come up with another plan. I’m sure Geoff will get that figured out in the next couple days.”

“You don’ call him mistah or such.”

“No, I don’t and he doesn’t mind. Actually, sometime in the next couple weeks he’s going to be adopting me. I’m going to have to get used to calling him Dad.”

“Wow, I wish he do that for me, but considerin’ I’m black and a fag, I doubt tha’s goin’ to happen.”

“Don’t be too surprised what’ll happen around here.”

“What you mean?”

“Well, I’m gay and most of the boys here are gay,” Jamie said after he sat down on Troy’s bed. “Plus, he’s going to homeschool all the boys here. I guess he’s going to find some property down by the lake and build a new house for us.”

“What is he, some do-gooder, white ass lib’ral?” Troy asked.

“No, Geoff is just concerned about the boys under his care.”

“What you have to do for him? Let him fuck you?”

“Definitely not, Geoff isn’t interested in boys.”

“I believe it when I see it.”

“How’s your clothes?” Jamie asked.

“What you mean?”

“Do you need anything?”

“Like what?”

“Oh, pants, shirts, underwear, pajamas, you know, clothes.”

“I don’ wear ’jam’s. Them for lil kids.”

“At night we all gather in Geoff’s study and read our books, like the one he gave you. Most of us boys wear pajamas or underwear with a robe over them.”

“Okay, I could do the robe thing. How much does that cost?”

“Nothing, Geoff will buy it for you.”

“You sure I don’ have to let him fuck me?”

“Look, Geoff definitely doesn’t have sex with the boys; not even Jerry and he wasn’t even a foster child.”

“Hello, boys,” Geoff said at the door. “Jamie, are you getting Troy settled?”

“Yeah, it’s the same thing as with all the new boys,” Jamie said.

Geoff walked across the room and pulled out the desk chair, turned it around, and straddled it, resting his elbows on the backrest of the chair. He said, “Troy, I’m sorry about your mother, if you need some time before going to school, I’ll arrange it.”

“She do smack; she knew what she was doin’. Are you goin’ to be sendin’ me down to Miss’sippi?” Troy said.

“That’s up to Mr. Daniels. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a resident of this house and will remain in this house until you graduate from high school,” Geoff said.

“What are you some kind of weird white lib’ral faggot?” Troy asked.

“Well, I am gay, but I tend to be a right leaning centrist.”

“I don’ unnerstand,” Troy said.

“Then I suggest you look that up.”

“How?”

“Do you have a smartphone?”

“No.”

“Do you have a laptop?”

“No.”

“Then in the morning I’ll drive you into Rochester and get you a smartphone and a laptop.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how I run my house.”

“Is he for real?” Troy asked looking at Jamie.

“As real as it can get,” Jamie said.

* * *

Later that night Steven lay on his back in Ian’s bed not knowing what he should do. He wanted to snuggle up against the side of the older boy, but he was afraid Ian would push him away, not wanting the closeness of a little boy. Finally, after many minutes of conflicting thoughts he turned on his side and surreptitiously as possible he inched his way under the bedcovers until he was up against Ian’s side. He laid his arm across Ian’s chest and waited for the inevitable rebuff.

“I was wondering how long you’d wait before coming to me,” Ian said.

“Jimmy, I was afraid you wouldn’t want me close to you.”

“Steve, just lay as close to me as you want,” Ian said.

“Thank you.”

* * *

The following morning, Erik and Troy sat at the dinette eating their French toast, fried eggs, and bacon. Erik had a glass of orange juice, while Troy was drinking milk. All the other boys had gone to school and Geoff was waiting for these two to finish so he could drive Troy into Rochester to get some clothes, a smartphone, and a laptop. Erik was going with them since Wally was in class and wouldn’t be home until around twelve-thirty. As Geoff stood at the counter drinking a cup of decaf he noticed a strange feeling in his upper abdomen. He’d eaten a bowl of canned peaches and a granola bar, as he did most mornings, so he was surprised he was having indigestion. After a while both boys finished their breakfast, but hadn’t made a move to leave.

“Troy, could you clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher?” Geoff asked.

“Yeah, get da nigga to do da cleanin’,” Troy said.

“Look, son, there aren’t any servants in this house to clean up after you. I would’ve asked Erik, but he’s blind. Oh, he’d do it, after a fashion, but I thought you were a better choice because you can see what you’re doing.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry Erik for thinkin’ you got eyes like me,” Troy said.

“That’s okay; I know this is all new to you and it’ll take a while for you to get into the groove,” Erik said.

“Yeah, I be cool with that,” Troy said. He got up and cleared the table as Geoff asked. Then he said, “Suh, you said we goin’ in to Rochesta’ this mornin’. When we goin’?”

“As soon as you two get yourselves together,” Geoff said as another twinge hit him in the lower chest. He went over and sat in the dinette silently wondering what was wrong with him.

After about thirty minutes both boys presented themselves in the kitchen and when Geoff got up from the dinette he had a slight sensation of faintness. They went out the backdoor and into the garage.

“What do you think we should use?” Geoff asked.

“The Explorer, since there’s just three of us,” Erik said.

“Troy, what’s your choice?” Geoff asked.

“Why you ask me? I just be da dumb nigga here,” Troy said.

“Troy, I don’t want to hear you use that word around me ever again,” Geoff said. “And, you are not dumb, poorly educated maybe, but not dumb.”

“That what you say,” Troy said.

“Hey, man, cool it; Dad’s just trying to help you,” Erik said.

“Yeah, well, I met whiteys want help me before,” Troy said as he opened one of the backseat doors, got into the Explorer, and slammed the door.

“Dad, you’ve got a lot of work to do with Troy,” Erik said.

“Yeah, and I hope he’s willing to learn,” Geoff said. “Come on, let’s get on the road; I have to be back before one.”

Erik got in the other backseat door and looked over at Troy, “I thought we could sit together and talk, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, sure, you cool,” Troy said.

After starting the engine, Geoff opened the console and took out the CD case. He thumbed through the CDs until he came to Sly & The Family Stone’s greatest hits. He took it out of the sleeve and inserted into the stereo’s CD slot.

When the first song came on, Troy said, “Who that?”

“Sly & The Family Stone,” Geoff said.

“They whiteys?”

“No, they’re black.”

“You play black music?”

“Some, but I don’t play hip-hop or rap.”

“Too bad, some that good.”

“You ever listen to B. B. King, Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Ray Charles, Louis Armstrong, Little Richard, Stevie Wonder?”

“They black?”

“All of them, and I enjoy listening to them.”

“You weird, man, you weird. Never heard of no whitey likin’ black music, ’cept maybe rap.”

“I tell you what, when this CD is over I’ll play one by B. B. King.”

Geoff pulled out of the garage half listening to the boys chatting in the second seat while Sly & The Family Stone were singing “I Want to Take You Higher.” He drove out the alley and headed for the road to Rochester while another twinge struck his chest. Unconsciously, he felt his left carotid artery with his right hand, but the steady pulse told him whatever he was feeling didn’t concern his heart.

The ride to Rochester was marked by music Geoff enjoyed, the barely audible chattering of the boys, constant attention to the traffic on State Route 104, and the increasing twinges in Geoff’s chest. He kept checking his pulse, but couldn’t detect any abnormality. Just as he drove onto to the Irondequoit Bridge an unbelievably sharp pain filled his chest and he realized he couldn’t breathe. With rapidly fading consciousness, Geoff slammed on the brakes, put the Explorer in park, and then slumped forward against the steering wheel causing the horn to shriek in distress.

“What’s happening?” Erik screamed.

“The dude fainted,” Troy said.

“Where are we?” Erik screamed.

“Easy, dude, we stopped on a bridge, let me check what goin’ on,” Troy said. He undid his seat belt, stood up as best in could, and reached around the driver’s seat and nudged Geoff. Cars behind and around them were honking their horns and after a short while a policeman came to the driver’s door. Troy looked out and then reached across Geoff and unlocked the doors.

“What’s going on here?” the policeman asked.

“The dude fainted,” Troy said.

The policeman felt Geoff’s carotid and didn’t feel anything. He spoke into his radio, “Central we have a heart attack victim out here westbound on the Irondequoit Bridge. I need an aid car and backup. You boys, who are you?”

“He’s my dad and is Troy’s foster father,” Erik said. “What’s wrong with him? Is he dead?”

“Not my duty to say,” the policeman said. “I need you boys to exit on the right side of the vehicle and I’ll put you in the backseat of my car.”

* * *

“Erik, please come in,” the man said.

Erik got up from his chair in the lobby and waited for someone to escort him to the office.

“Oh, sorry, let me help you,” said a woman who had previously introduced herself as Ms. Madeleine, Mr. Morgan’s assistant, when she met him down on the sidewalk after he got out of the cab. If he hadn’t been blind, he would’ve noticed that the room was quite large, had tall bookshelves along two walls, and a view of the Hudson River.

“Here, you can sit in this chair,” the man said. “I am Benedict Morgan, Geoff Johnson’s attorney of record and since you are his sole heir, I am also your attorney of record.”

“What a coincidence, my middle name is Benedict,” Erik said. “How much?”

“Just like a teenager, always wanting to get right to the quick. Geoff’s estate including real estate, stocks, bonds, and cash totals nearly seventy million and a few odd cents here and there.”

“Wow! Is it all mine?”

“Well, after taxes, it will be somewhat less. Per Geoff’s will, I am also your trustee.”

“Meaning?”

“I will administer the estate, provide lodging for you, and give you an allowance.”

“Where will I live?”

“Close to wherever you go to school, I suppose. Have you given any thought about where you want to go to school?”

“Someplace good, I suppose.”

“A college prep school?”

“Yes, are there any in New York City?”

“We have a number of excellent ones. I’ll have my secretary make inquiries, especially considering your disability.”

“It always comes down to that doesn’t it.”

“Have you given any thought about college?”

“Columbia is where my mother went. Dad, my real dad, went to Harvard. I suppose either one would be good, that is considering my disability.”

“I’m certain either school would be happy to have you as a student.”

“It’s a shame about the other boys. I wish they could be with me, but they’re foster kids and Mr. Daniels is taking care of them, I suppose. I wish it could’ve turned out different, but I guess I’m just going to have to live with the fact that I was the only boy Geoff got around to adopting. Will I have someone living with me?”

“Yes, we’ll hire a cook/housekeeper and you’ll also have a chauffeur. Have you thought of what kind of car you’ll want to ride in?”

“A Mercedes SUV, black. I know I won’t see it, but I’d like to make a good impression. Can I go back to my hotel, now?”

“Certainly.”

Erik stood up and waited for Mr. Morgan to come to escort him out of the office. Then a thought came to him and he said, “I know you’ll be selling Dad’s house, but could you buy me a lakefront vacation home on Lake Ontario? Nothing too big and definitely not more than one story high; and, enough bedroom suites for myself, the cook, and the chauffeur. I suppose you might have to build it or maybe remodel something suitable.”

“Can I ask why?”

“I went down there once with Jerry before I went blind. It was nice. I liked it. Geoff was going to build us a new home down there and homeschool us. Everything just turned out wrong. Okay, I’m ready to go.”

When Erik got to his hotel room, he went over to the sofa, opened his guitar case, and took out the instrument. He quickly tuned it by ear, played a “C major” scale across the neck and back again. He thought of how his life had turned out and began to strum the guitar while softly singing, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound …”

The End