A Special Place

By Sequoyah Pendor

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(Parts One - Ten)

Part One

        I was in another world, so totally immersed in a Bach piece I had been working on for several weeks that I didn't see the light flashing indicating I should pick up the phone/intercom. Accordingly, I almost had a heart attack when Gertie, the parish secretary, shouted, "There's a hysterical woman on the phone asking for you. Think it might be Gabrielle Larsen."
        "Thanks, Gertie," I said as I grabbed the phone and punched the button, "Matt here."
        "Matt, Luke has left a suicide note. It says you will know where to find him. I don't know what to do!"
        "Call 911. Tell the dispatcher what you have found and to call me on my cell phone. I think I know where he is and pray God I won't be too late! I'm on my way." I tossed the phone into its cradle and said to Gertie, "My God, Gertie, Luke has left a suicide note and his mother doesn't know where he is. I'm supposed to, and I think I do." I was shouting over my shoulder as I rushed from the church toward my Jeep.
        Luke's place and mine were about ten miles out of town. I leapt into my Jeep and pushed it for all it was worth. My mind was also running in overdrive.  "Luke must have left school early because he should just be getting home now," I thought to myself as I raced down Old Farm Road toward our places. I was doing an independent study in music for my final period each day and I hadn't been practicing at St. Mary's for more than twenty or twenty-five minutes when Gertie called. "God, please let me be in time," I prayed, wishing my Jeep would go faster. Fortunately, Old Farm Road is a farm road and traffic is minimal, so I wasn't worried about that.
        "Why has Luke even thought about suicide?" I kept asking myself. Exactly the same age as I--we were actually born minutes apart and both would be eighteen in two months--he was handsome--even beautiful--popular at school . . . .We have no secrets from each other,"I thought,"or at least I didn't think we did, but I was surely wrong."
        Suddenly I heard sirens behind me and when I looked in the rear view mirror, saw flashing lights approaching. About that time my phone rang. "Yea?"
        "The EMS squad should be getting close to you," the dispatcher said, "I'm patching you through to them."
        "Yea, I see them right behind me," I responded.
        "Matt, this is David Andrews. Where are we headed?"
        David and his son lived on the farm on the town side of the Larsens; our farm was on the other side of Luke's home. When David got out of the army, he used his Army college money to become a registered nurse with special emergency medicine training and he had been with the EMS for several years, actually since before I was born.
        "David, I'm betting money--and maybe his life--that he is below the falls on the river. I'm jumping the ditch and crashing the fence as soon as I cross the river bridge. Think that thing you guys are driving can follow?"
        "We can sure as hell try," he responded.
        "If you can't...."
        "I know, it's three more miles. You go; we'll follow."
        I rushed passed the David's place, across the river bridge, and hung a sharp right, jumping the road ditch. As I crashed the pasture fence, I expected the barbed wire to snap, but it didn't. Instead, it started stretching and pulling loose from the posts. When it finally snapped, the backlash smashed the windshield and whipped through the Jeep, but I didn't pause. "Please, God," I prayed with my whole being, "let him be here and let us be in time."
        Reaching the path to the river, I leapt from the Jeep before it stopped moving.  As I raced along the narrow path through the cane and trees lining the river bank, I heard the sirens stop and then the sound of the water rushing over the low falls and splashing into a wide basin before, once again, entering its narrow river bed and going on its way. As I raced toward the river, I kicked off my shoes, knowing that if Luke were here, he was in the river.
        As soon as I reached the edge of the basin, my heart stopped. I saw him, his nude body, face up, caught between two rocks. Otherwise, he would have washed over the basin's edge and down the river. I dived into the icy water--after all it was only mid-March and this water was never really warm enough for swimming until mid-May--and swam over to Luke. As I pulled his body to mine, I couldn't be sure, but it seemed as if his beautiful body was lifeless. Grabbing him under the chin, I started swimming back just as David and his crew reached the river's edge.
        "Matt, grab the float," David shouted as he tossed it out over the water. Holding Luke's chin above water with one hand, I grabbed the float with the other. David rapidly pulled me to the sandy beach. His two team mates grabbed Luke and started working on him while David helped me ashore and covered my shivering body with a blanket."I'll grab you something hot from my kit," he said as soon as I was settled.
        While I waited, I looked around at this, a very special place. Suddenly I spied Luke's clothes, neatly folded, a few feet from me and near them was a prescription bottle. I quickly got up and ran to the clothes, picked up the bottle, and called to David, "David, here's something you need to see."
        Handing me a cup of hot liquid, David took the bottle and called to Anna and Jake, his colleagues,"Here's an empty bottle which originally held 35 200 mg caps of phenobarb. That's a lethal dose if they were all here and he took them. "Is he still alive?" I asked, dreading the answer.
        "Barely," Jake replied, "but since we know we have more to deal with than hypothermia, that's a plus. But to be honest, I doubt he makes it, but we'll try to get the barbiturate out of him and do everything else we can.
        As he and Anna continued to get Luke ready to transport, I bent to pick up Luke's clothes. I felt something warm running down my cheek.  I turned to speak to David when he said,"Matt, you're bleeding like crazy!" as he rushed toward me. "When you crashed through the fence, you took a barb in the face. You've got a bad cut there." He grabbed his kit, quickly cleaned the wound and pulled it together with butterfly strips. "When we get to the hospital, you will get that checked out. Promise?" I nodded.
        "We're ready to transport," Anna called to David.
        "See you at the hospital, Matt," David said as he grabbed his kit and joined his team.
        "I'll get his things, go by his house, get some dry clothes and his mother," I responded, "then I'll be there."
        As the EMS team left, I walked slowed over to Luke's neat folded clothes. "This spot has always been so special to us," I thought as I bent to pick up his things. I clutched his clothes to my body, inhaling the fragrance of the man I loved--I loved as my very best friend as did he me, but more than that, my great and painful secret was that I not only loved Luke, but had been in love with him for a very long time, in fact, for as long as I could remember. I lived with the agony of loving him more than life itself and the fear that if he knew, at best, our friendship would be destroyed and at worse, he would hate me. It was a risk I could not take. So I lived, every day, every night with the heartache of my secret.
        Tears streaming down my face, I walked slowly back to the Jeep, shivering in spite of the blanket David had given me. Placing Luke's clothes on the passenger's seat, I picked up my cell phone and hit speed dial 1. "That's exactly what you are to my life, Luke, you're first and all else is after. Please, please,please don't die!" Gabrielle answered on the first ring. "Gabrielle, we found him and he is alive,barely. It's not absolutely hopeless, but very, very close."
        "I'll light another candle to the Virgin for him,"Gabrielle responded. The Larsen's, he of Danish background and she born and raised in Germany, were surprisingly, very devote Catholics instead of being Lutheran as one would have expected. And that raised another question about what my best friend, a devoted Catholic, had done. Taking your own life, I was sure, was a mortal sin for a Catholic and would doom Luke to hell. Not that I believed that, but then I am an Episcopalian, not a Roman Catholic.
        "Call in all you have out to your saints, Gabrielle. Our guy needs all the help he can get. I'm on my way now.  I'll pick up some dry clothes at your place and then take you into town. We'll have to take your car, though, because my Jeep's a mess. See you in a sec."
        "OK, I'll be ready."
        There would be no problem with clothes. Not only did Luke and I spend so much time at each other's house that we both had clothes in both places, but we were also the same size. In fact, our fathers once remarked that had we not been "darkness and light" we could have been twins so far as size goes.
        Luke was clearly "light." Again, given his family background, how could he be otherwise? Luke was truly a golden man-child--a golden young man. His hair, so curly he had given up in trying to make it otherwise, was so blond it sometimes seem transparent. In the sun it shown like spun gold, creating a shining halo around his beautiul face. His fair skin was perfect so that the goodness that was inside made his body seem to glow. Hard work on the farm and the non-jock sports--volleyball and tennis--kept him in excellent shape, clearly defined, but not grotesque. Also, he and I had started running together two years ago and ran every morning after our chores were done before we got ready for school. In the winter we even ran in the dark and the weather had to be really bad for us not to have our morning run.
        I, on the other hand, was darkness, the son of a half Korean mother and father who was at least half American Indian.
        As I pulled into the Larsen's drive, Gabrielle ran out to meet me. Weeping, she cried, " Why? Why? Why did he do such a terrible thing, Matt? Why?"
        "I don't know, Gabrielle, I don't know and I should have known. I should have known he was in pain. I should have known, even though he didn't tell me."
        We walked into the house and I continued upstairs to Luke's room. As soon as I entered, I could not hold back an outburst of tears as I was overwhelmed by a tide of memories and the fragrance of the man I loved. While I had loved Luke as long as I could remember. Of course, over time my love had changed, had matured, but I kept it to myself. No way was I going to risk the beautiful friendship Luke and I had since the day we were born.
        Suddenly I realized that I was still carrying Luke's clothes I had taken from the river, the clothes that had covered Luke's so alive beautiful body and which still held the scent of the one I loved above all else. Tears still streaming, I got dressed in Luke's clothes and walked downstairs.
        Gabrielle handed me her keys and we walked out of the house to her car. While the trip into town was not a race like the one out, my mind was racing around and around, "Why? Why? Why?" Suddenly it occurred to me that Gabrielle should not have been home when she had called me. "How did you happened to be home early today?" I asked Gabrielle.
        "The system went down just after lunch and we were told it would not be back up until sometime late tonight so I just came on home. I hope in time to save my boy," she responded as she started crying softly. Gabrielle was office manager for the medical complex in Concord, our small town. The rest of the drive into town was spent in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
        When we reached the hospital, I found a parking place near the emergency room entrance. When we walked in, David was coming out of one of the treatment bays and walked toward us.
        "He's still alive, but just barely. Matt, had you not known where to find him and had we not gotten there when we did, there is no doubt he would be dead, but he's sure not out of the woods yet," David answered our unspoken question. "But you, Young Man, need to get yourself over there into that treatment bay so someone can take a look at your face."
        "So there's no change in Luke," I asked David as we walked toward an empty treatment bay.
        "None, at least none for the better. He's so close to death that any change would be for the better or . . . ."
        When we reached the treatment bay a fairly young, good looking woman--hey, I may be in love with another man, surely you have gathered that--but that didn't mean I didn't appreciate a good piece of handiwork and God had done an outstanding job on this woman.
        "Hi, I'm Dr. Bailey. I understand that you took a pretty severe hit in the face by a pasture fence while rescuing a friend."
        "I'm not sure I would call it a rescue, especially since it looks as if he may not make it. And, in fact, I didn't even know my face was cut until David--Mr. Andrews--noticed all the blood."
        "Yes, I understand your friend. . . What's his name?"
        "Luke, Luke Larsen."
        "Luke is near death, but so long as there is a spark of life, there's hope, right."
        "Right! Damn right," I responded with all the bravado I could muster, then the tears started again in spite of my putting every effort into stopping them.
        Dr. Bailey reached over and put her arms around me, giving me a warm and comforting hug. Gradually I stopped crying.
        "Now" she said, "let me take a look at your face, Matthew."
        "Please call me Matt. The only time I am called Matthew is when my mom is really upset with me or when I am in her class."
        Ok, Matt, you've got a really nasty gash there. David--ah, Mr. Andrews--told me you crashed through a pasture fence and the barbed wire didn't break until it snapped and whipped back, breaking your windshield and hitting you in the face."
        "Yea, that's what happened, but as I said, I didn't know it until Mr. Andrews. . . .Look, David is obviously a friend of both of us, so can we stop this Mr. Andrews bit?"
        I was very surprised when Dr. Bailey blushed a bright red like a young school girl. "Sure," she replied, suddenly becoming very busy with some instruments on a tray beside the table. I wondered what was going on here.
        When she turned back to me she said, "David is well-known around the hospital. Not only for his work, but also for the loving care he gave his wife Elizabeth when she was here for treatments for cancer two years before she died three years ago. Did you know her too?"
        "Sure, there are three families of us living on adjoining farms. The Larsen's live between David and us. David and his son Michael live on the town side and we live on the country side. But actually, we're like one family most of the time--except we don't talk much about religion, since the Larsens are devote Catholics and we are Episcopalians. David and Michael were very active in their church until the preacher said AIDS was God's curse on gays and then damned gays and peoplr who supported their rights. Also, he was never there when Michael and David needed someone during Elizabeth's illness and death. David and Michael have really been close to my family after Elizabeth's death. It's a long story, but the families have been very close ever since before the three men got out of service."
        "I'd like to hear that story some time. Meanwhile, let me look at your face. And, Matt, I need to know your full name for this form."
        "Matthew S-a-r-a-n-g upper case H-a-n-u-n upper case P-o-m-u-l Greywolf. That's my middle name Mom and Dad gave me when I was born. I think it's probably Dad's butchered Korean, although it may be perfectly correct. It's a real mouthful and when I was younger, I just gave the English translation until one day kids started kidding me about it so now I just spell it and let it go at that.  My mom's Korean, actually half Korean. Her father was an American soldier who deserted her mother when she became pregnant. Mom doesn't even know his name since her mother refuses to acknowledge he ever existed. Matthew Sarang Hanun Pomul Greywolf--that's what Mom and Dad call me when they are very upset with me or when they are very pleased with me. I've never figured it out. Ouch!"
        "I'm sorry, but I needed to clean up your face so I can see what needs to be done. What *is* the translation of you middle name?"
        "You have to promise not to laugh. It means 'Beloved Treasure."'
        "While I can see why kids, being kids might laugh, I think that is one of the most beautiful names I have ever heard. David has done an excellent job with the butterflies, but there is going to be a scar on that high Greywolf cheekbone. Am I correct in assuming your father is an American Indian?"
        At least half. I don't think he even knows what the other half is, but his mother was a full blooded Lakota."
        That makes your middle names mean even more since it honors your mother and carries out the Lakota custom of naming one according to what one is, Beloved Treasure. By the way, are your parents on their way?"
        "Oh, my God, I haven't even thought to call them. They don't know anything about this since they had a faculty meeting after school today and I was at St. Mary's so they won't expect me home until about five. What time is it?"It's almost 4:30"
        They are probably just getting home now. I gotta call them."
        "I'll take care of that," she said as she walked out of the treatment bay and called out, "Mr. Andrews, could you come here, please?" When David reached the bay, she asked him to call my parents and tell them what had happened. Also to ask them if they felt I was mature enough to make a decision about my face since if anything was to be done, it needed to be done as soon as possible.
        Apparently David knew what she meant because he came back in about three minutes and said the decision was mine, then continued talking to my parents on his cell phone as he walked back to the desk.
        "Well, we are at a decision point, Matt. How old are you?"
        "Eighteen. Well, Luke and I will both be eighteen in two months. We were born on the same day, but I am twenty minutes older." Mentioning Luke's name started another flood of tears and their salt soon started the newly cleaned wound on my face stinging. I realized that Dr. Bailey had not only been attending to my physical needs, but my emotional ones as well by distracting me.
        "Well, you're not quite eighteen, but your parents say you can make the decision. David has done an excellent job, as I said, but if there is not to be a scar, I need to get a plastic surgeon in here pronto. If nothing more is done, you will have a scar, as I said, right on the peak of that Greywolf cheekbone. It will be, oh, I guess about an inch long and narrow. Hope you don't think I'm being sexist, but I wouldn't hesitate in calling in a surgeon if you were a girl, but since you are a man (Yes, she said "You are a man."), given where the scar will be and as small as it will be, it's your call."
        Look, you're to doctor. You're supposed to know these things. I'm not."
        "Just a minute," she said as she stood up and walked into the hall, calling David again. When he came into the bay, she said, "Matt needs to have a plastic surgeon redo that wound pronto unless he wants to just let it go. You know there will be a small scar, so what do you think?"
        "I think a small scar there would be downright sexy," David responded as he reached over and messed up my hair. "He'll have all the women in school chasing him, not that he doesn't already!" I blushed all over at his comment. If he only know how little I cared about that! But it was true that Luke and I had girls all over us most of the time, but neither of us dated more than occasionally, then it was first with one girl then another. A kind of friends going out, not real dating.
        What do you think, Stud?" David asked, causing me to blush a deeper red I'm sure.
        I decided more than one could play in this game and said, "Well, Doc, you're a pretty sexy bundle yourself. What do you think? Which would be sexier?"
        David laughed and Dr. Bailey joined in the blushing. "Well, I think I'd be Matthew Beloved Treasure Barbed Wire in the Face Greywolf and let be as is."
        "So be it."
        Since Dr. Bailey had finished with me, I walked to the emergency waiting room where I found Gabrielle and Jens Larsen. "Are you ok?" Jens asked me and I nodded yes. "There has been no change in Luke. The doctors are holding out very little hope," he said. "We have called Fr. Muller for Last Rites."
        As he finished speaking, the burly German priest came through the emergency room door and stopped at the nurses' station. He spoke briefly to the nurse on duty, the came storming over to the waiting room. His opening words to the grieving parents were, "You son has committed a mortal sin and unless he confesses, he will be damned to hell forever. I thought you were good Catholics, yet you dare ask Mother Church for Her Last Rites for a boy who had attempted self-murder." Every word he spoke was like a hammer blow to the heart of his parents and to mine. Gabrielle was weeping bitterly and Jens was turning white with anger. "I will say a prayer for you two at Mass, but not for him and his damned soul."
        "Get the hell out!" Jens shouted at the priest and appeared to be advancing toward the burly man in the collar, "Just get the hell out!"
        "You'll understand later," Fr. Muller said, "then you can come to confession."
        I thought Jens was about to kill the priest, but Gabrielle held him back as Fr. Muller beat a hasty retreat.
        Without further thought, I whipped out my cell phone and hit speed dial three--again, I thought of the priorities in my life: Luke was one, my family was two, and St. Mary's was three--hoping someone was still in the church office even though it was late. Gertie answered the phone. "Gertie, get Fr. Tom over to the hospital at once. I need him," I said, surprisingly calm. As I put the phone back in my pocket, I saw a gurney with Luke on it being wheeled out of the treatment bay. Thank God, his face was not covered, but he looked dead with tubes goes in and out of his beautiful body. I tried very hard to be brave for the Larsens, but I didn't make it. My tears started again as I looked at Luke, thinking this may be the last time I see him alive. And he doesn't know how I feel about him.
        A doctor walked over to the Larsens and said, "We have done all we can for Luke right now. He is barely holding his own, but he has not gotten worse. He's being taken to ICU. You may go up and see him for a few minutes--five or ten. After that, you may see him for fifteen minutes every hour on the hour, however, I would suggest you go up and see him, then go home and try to get some rest until tomorrow morning. At the very miraculous best, this will be a long, tough haul and you need to stay well. If there is any change at all, any at all, someone will call you. If you need something to help you sleep, I will leave it with the nurse on duty here in the emergency room. Do you have any questions or is there anything else I can do?"
        "No, I guess not, Doctor. And thanks for offering the medicine to help us sleep. I am sure we will need it and if you think it best, we will go home."
        "I do. If Luke makes it, he is going to require a lot of you after he leaves the hospital and there is nothing you can do here now. Save your strength for when he is going to have to have it. Here's my card. Should you think of anything, anything at all, that I might do, please call me." Handing Jens the card, the doctor shook his hand and gave Gabrielle a hug before he left."
        "Matt, are you ok?" Jens asked as he hugged Gabrielle to himself.
        "Yea, I'm ok, I guess. David called Mom and Dad and Fr. Tom is coming and he can take me home. Go on up and see Luke."
        As the Larsens got on the elevator, I, for the first time, felt something in a back pocket. When I pulled it out, it was a letter addressed to me in Luke's handwriting. I opened it and began to read.
        
     "Matt,
             "I know you are hurt and in pain because of my cowardly act. Please forgive me and know that I loved you better than life itself, but I could never let you know. Every moment I was away from you, you filled my thoughts and I felt empty and lonely, suffering because I was not with the one I loved. Every moment I spent with you over the past few years have been filled ecstasy because I was with you, the man I loved more than anything in heaven or earth. Yet it was agony also because I was terrified that my feeling toward you would slip out and I would lose you as a friend forever and I could not bear the thought of that happening. Agony because the loneliness and emptiness were still there, just overshadowed by the joy of my being with you., If loving you, another man, makes me gay, I am gay, Matt. Please don't hate me, even though when you read this, I will be gone. I could not go on being so in love with you and never being able to tell you."
             Since my family, and I thought I, are good Catholics, I was also haunted by the fact that loving another man was a mortal sin. Fr. Muller made that very clear Sunday after Sunday. Since I was damned for loving you, hell's fire held no terror to prevent my committing another mortal sin. To escape the agony because I can no longer handle it, I have taken a coward's way out. Please forgive me and know that I went to my death loving you with my whole being. I chose a place special to both of us. I love you, Matt, my beautiful friend.
                                          Goodbye.
                                          Luke.

        Before I finished the letter, I could hardly read for the tears streaming down my face. As I read his name, I screamed "Luke!" and collapsed on the floor. I was not completely unconscious, so I knew someone had picked me up.  My foggy mind recognized Dr. Bailey and David. "I think we need to take him into my office. I don't think the problem here is medical," I heard Dr. Bailey say and David lifted me in his arms. As soon as I was safely in Dr. Bailey's office, she gave me something and said, "Drink this." My mind gradually cleared and I lay on th sofa, staring at the ceiling.
        Dr. Bailey said to David, "Wait outside for a few minutes while I check Matt out."
        "Also be on the look out for Fr. Tom, please, David. I am expecting him," I added.
        As soon as David had left the room, Dr. Bailey said, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
        "I'm not sure. About telling you I mean."
        "Had you rather wait and talk with Fr. Tom?"
        "Don't both of you have the same vow about keeping secrets?"
        "Sure do."
        I took a deep breath and decided to unload a big pile of garbage I had been carrying too long, garbage which might have killed the love of my life. "I was all wet after we got Luke out of the river and since his house was closer than mine, I went there to change. When I took off my wet clothes, I put on the clothes Luke had been wearing before he jumped into the river, because they were Luke's. After the Larsens left to go to ICU, I found a letter in a back pocket addressed to me in Luke's handwriting." With those words, I handed the letter to her.
        She read the letter slowly, glancing at me every once in awhile.
        When she finished she said, "Do you want me to tell you the rest of the story?" I nodded. "The truth of the matter is, you could have written essentially the same letter to Luke. Right?"
        I had sat up on the sofa and when she said that, I dropped my eyes to stare at the floor as I slowly nodded my head "yes."
        "I am not surprised. I have seen an awful lot of guys come into the emergency room with injured friends, but it was obvious to me from the first that your feelings for Luke was well beyond friendship, even a very close friendship. Don't be ashamed of your love, Matt, there is little enough love in the world to condemn any of it. And look what hate can do. Luke was told his love for you was a dirty, sinful thing; that he should hate himself because he loved. And so now he is lying up there having tried to destroy himself, having no reason for living."
        "But he knows that there are people out there just waiting for the opportunity to kick the ass of a man who loves another man--of me and Luke. He knows that people get carried away and kill a man simply because he is gay. Remember the student who was brought in here last year, half dead because he had be sodomized over and over by a group of rednecks? He and they went to the same school we attend. But Doctor, to be honest, If he dies, I can't see any reason to live myself."
        "Oh, there are thousands of reasons for you to live, even without Luke. But let's not think about that right now. Let's think about Luke living. Nothing else you have said makes any difference otherwise, does it?"
        There was a soft knock on the door and when Dr. Bailey said, "Come in," David and Fr. Tom walked in.
        David had filled Fr. Tom in on what happened and he had been to see my parents and they are fine, David told me.
        "Are the Larsens still here?" I asked David.
        "Yes, they have a few more minutes with Luke."
        I quickly told Fr. Tom what had happened with Fr. Muller and asked him if he would offer to anoint Luke and give him the Sacrament if his parents wished. "I know that it's not Last Rites for you, but it's the same Sacrament, right?" Of course, he agreed. He told me as soon as he had seen the Larsens and Luke, he would come back down and and do the same for me as he had done for Luke.
        I'm glad Episcopalians don't have Last Rites because Last Rites seem to be giving up hope, and I still had hope for Luke.
        As David and Fr. Tom left Dr. Bailey's office, another doctor came in. He was the one who had talked to the Larsens earlier, Doctor Walker. "How's Luke?" Dr. Bailey asked.
        "I would like to say he is at least holding his own, but I'm not sure he's doing that well. He seems to have absolutely no will to live--which is not surprising since he tried to commit suicide; he has no fight. I think he is willing himself to death. He is healthy and looks as if he is as strong as a horse, I think he could make it if he just had the will to live, but if he continues to wish to die, he will. I am sure of that."
        "Paul," Dr. Bailey said to the doctor, "just how far are you willing to bend the rules?"
        "Hell, Margaret, you know me well enough to know that I don't just bend the rules, I break them and if or I ignore them. What do you have in mind?"
        "You have known comatose patients who, when they woke up, know everything that was said and done around them, haven't you?"
        "Who hasn't?"
        Dr. Bailey looked straight at me and said, "I think we can give Luke something to fight for and a reason to live if you will bend the rules."
        What did she have in mind? Why had she looked at me so strangely?
        Dr. Walker seemed not to hear Dr. Bailey and said, "The Larsens are, I think, going home shortly. They were about ready to leave when I came down stairs. As soon as Fr. Tom--I thought the Larsens were Catholic--but Fr. Tom was up there--as soon as he finished, they planned to go home and try to rest." Looking at me he said, "You should do the same, Young Man."
        "I don't think so, Paul, I think Matt needs to spend the night with Luke."
        "What in the world are you talking about?" asked Dr. Walker.
        Dr. Bailey looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and picked up Luke's letter from her desk. She waited for some reaction from me. I thought I knew what she had in mind and nodded my head.
        She handed the letter to Dr. Walker who read it slowly, glancing at me from time to time as had Dr. Bailey.
        "When are the assholes of the world going to learn that some men love men and some women love women and that love is love, period? But what did you have in mind, as if I couldn't guess?"
        "Paul, Matt could have written a letter telling Luke exactly the same thing about being in love and the fear he had of losing a lifelong friendship. Because of their fear and the value they placed on their friendship, both young men, who were madly in love with the other, were afraid to say anything. I want you to take Matt up to ICU, throw the fear of God into Chelsea who is on duty tonight, telling her that Matt is not to leave Luke's side. He'll have to get out before the Larsens get here tomorrow morning and someone will have to take care of letting his parents know."
        "Just what I thought you had in mind. I'll take care of Chelsea and make sure the nurse coming on in the morning knows to get Matt out before the Larsens come in. You'll have to take care of the parents."
        "Deal."
        As Dr. Walker left the room, Fr. Tom and David came in. Fr. Tom asked Dr. Bailey if she would like to receive the Sacrament with me as David had done when he anointed Luke and placed a drop of the consecrated wine on his lips. The Larsens, of course, expressed their appreciation to Fr. Tom for what he did for Luke, but as good Catholics did not receive. She said she would and Fr. Tom said the prayers, anointed me, and gave me and Dr. Bailey the Sacrament. After we had said the Lord's Prayer together, Fr. Tom said,"I'll take you home now, Matt."
        I looked at Dr. Bailey, took a deep breath and said, "I'm staying." Both David and Fr. Tom looked surprised, then looked at Dr. Bailey. "It's ok. Show them the letter. They need to know."
        David read over Fr. Tom's shoulder and when they had finished, I said, "My fear may have killed Luke because I feel the same way toward him as he says he does toward me."
        Fr. Tom simply nodded his head and said, "Well, you have never heard me say you'll burn in hell because you love a man. If you love him as he loves you, you have a hard time ahead of you, but your surely have my blessing, even if it's not official."
        David looked less surprised than I thought, then said, "You know, Matt, the Larsens cannot know about this, at least not now. I'll be really surprised if your parents will love you less or treat you any differently, but you can never know. They need not know until we can sit down and talk about this as family. You have my love and support as you always have. Should either you or Luke need a home, you have it. My older brother, whom I worshiped, was gay. I was eleven when our parents found out. My father beat him to a pulp while my mother screamed at him. They then threw him out of the house and told him he was no longer their son and never to darken their door again. He was eighteen, almost exactly your and Luke's age. I only saw him once after that. He came by school to see me. When my father found out, he beat me until I had to be hospitalized. My brother sent me a note though one of my teachers and told me he loved me, but he couldn't see me again because of what my father might do. When I grew up, I tried o find him, but never did. I swore then I could never let what someone was make me hate them. And you know I love you and Luke as I do Michael."
        When David had finished speaking, I jumped up off the sofa and hugged him with all my strength while crying like a baby.
        "Dr. Walker is making arrangements; he's setting Chelsea straight, David, for Matt to spend the night with Luke. Dr. Walker says Luke has no will to live and it is up to Matt to convince him he has a damn good reason to live," Dr. Bailey said.
        "Well, I guess that means I have to come up with some reason for Matt staying here without having the Greywolf pack rushing here to take care of their young pup, Sarang Hanun Pomul. (David knew he could always get my goat by calling me that.) I'll tell them he needed to stay for observation and was already asleep.
        "Matt, you better tell that man you love just how much you love him and pray at the same time that he hears you," Fr. Tom said.
        When Fr. Tom and David left, Dr. Bailey had food brought to her office and even though I didn't feel like eating, she insisted. "You have a long, tough night ahead of you, and it's probably not the last one, we can hope" she said, "so eat.
        By the time I finished eating, it seemed as though it was midnight, but it was only eight o'clock. It had been about four hours since Luke had been pulled from the river.
        "When you go up, Matt, you will probably be shocked by what you see. Luke took an overdose of barbiturates which slowed down his heart, his breathing, all his body functions. Additionally, he was in icy water which caused hypothermia, which also slows down the body's functions. It forces all nonessential body functions to completely shut down so the brain can receive oxygen. He has a ventilator breathing for him. He had to have his stomach pumped and infused with charcoal to get any barbiturates still in his stomach. His body temperature, which was below 85 degrees, ten degrees below where hypothermia begins, has to be increased gradually. In short, he looks as if he is not alive and is hooked up to a number of machines. Try to overlook all that and concentrate on convincing him he has a reason to live. If anyone can do it, it is you. And remember, he may not be able to hear you and even if it does, he may well have suffered brain damage and have other problems. Don't blame yourself if you cannot get through to him, but don't give up hope. And since you seem to be a religious person, prayer like hell!"
        I gave Dr. Bailey a huge hug and she hugged me back. "Luke just don't know how lucky he is and if he knows only half of it, he'll jump up out of that bed!" Dr. Bailey said.
        "I know someone who is luckier if he lives," I replied as Dr. Bailey led me toward the elevators to the ICU.

Part Two  

Matt
          As Dr. Bailey and I entered the elevator which was to take us to ICU, she looked me straight in the eye and said, "Matt, I'm sure you are excited about getting to see Luke, but you need to be warned, you are not going to like what you see. In fact, you are going to be shocked.  There is no way I can really prepare you except to tell you Luke is going to look as if he is dead.  Additionally, he is connected to all sorts of machines, including a ventilator which is breathing for him. The barbiturates would probably have made that necessary as would hypothermia, but he is suffering from both. His heart is beating so slowly that it could stop at any time and that means he looks like a corpse. The good side to this situation, if there is one, is that hypothermia slows down the body processes so a person can go much longer deprived of oxygen than when the body temperature is normal. Also, Luke will be kept in a drug induced coma--which he was in when you found him and is still in from the barbiturates he took--to keep the brain from swelling and causing any additional brain damage. Right now, no one knows how long he will be in the self-induced coma or how long he might have to be kept in one. Also, what his condition will be when he does wake up, if he ever does, is very much up in the air. Again, I can't really prepare you for what he looks like, but then, I do know that love can sometimes be very blind."
        I simply nodded my head. I was sure that just seeing Luke alive, even barely alive, would mean I could overlook everything else. I was wrong. When we walked into ICU, I saw a nurses' station with numerous monitors in the center with rooms arranged in a circle around it. The rooms all had glass walls facing the nurses' station so they could see the patients, of which there were several.
        When we reached the nurses' station, Dr. Bailey introduced me to Chelsea, the nurse in charge. "Chelsea, this is Matt. I believe Dr. Walker spoke to you about him."
        "Yes, he did, Dr. Bailey. I will see that everyone knows he must go before the Larsens arrive in the morning and Dr. Walker requested that the curtains across the glass wall of Luke Larsen's bay be closed. "Young Man, if you see anything unusual, you are to buzz us. We, of course, will be checking on Luke every few minutes and he is connected to several sensing devices which we monitor here at the nurses' station. Is there anything you need or do you have any questions?"
        "Only one. Has there been any change in Luke's condition?"
        "Actually there has not been any change, but I consider that a change because, to tell you the truth, I didn't think he would be alive this long, so I guess the fact that there has been no change is an improvement."
        "Matt, I will go to Luke's bay with you, then I'll be leaving unless you have further need of me." With those words, Dr. Bailey put her arm around my waist and we walked toward a bay with the curtain drawn.
        She was right, I wasn't prepared for what I saw when we entered the bay. Luke had tubes coming and going from all parts of his body. The ventilator made a noise like some angry beast as it pumped air into his body. His bed was elevated so he was almost sitting up. All I could see was his face which looked lifeless and dead. His lips were bluish instead of their usual red. There was no way I could have told that he was alive and I knew that, in fact, his life was hanging by a thread.
        I walked over to his bed, placed my hand on his cheek, bent forward and kissed him softly on the forehead. His skin was cold to my lips, again, making me realize that while he was still alive, death was hovering close by. I suddenly realized that my tears were flowing again. When I turned away from Luke, Dr. Bailey took me into her arms and hugged me tightly.
        "Be brave, Matt, be brave. Luke needs you."
        As I released myself from Dr. Bailey's embrace, I said, "You sure have this mama thing done to a T."
        She smiled a sad smile and said, "Yea, I wish I had more practice, but that's a long story too. I guess we're just going to have a story telling time one of these days. Well, I've got to be going and you have a hard night's work cut out for you."
        "The work is not hard at all, in fact, it's a fight for both our lives and he's worth fighting for."
        "And so are you, Matt. Good night."
        "Good night."
        As soon as Dr. Bailey was gone, I moved a chair close to Luke's bed, reached under the blanket covering him and found his hand. It, too, was as cold as ice. Holding his hand and looking into his face, I prayed, I really prayed that God would send him back to me. "You have thousands and millions of people who love you and I have so few, and only one who is special beyond my understanding. Please send him back to me.  You know the pain of seeing someone you love die, please take that pain from me now. Let me show Luke how loved he is and how wonderful he, your son and creation is."
        Having said those words aloud, I then just entered a state in which I knew that I was praying, but did not have to use words. Suddenly I felt as if I heard a voice which said, simply, "It's up to you to give Luke his life back." I knew what I had to do, but I didn't know how. I had to make Luke realize that I loved him as much as he loved me.
        I started talking to him. "Luke, I am so sorry that we didn't trust our friendship enough to be honest with each other. I am as much to blame for your being here as you are. How could we have been so blind??? I love you, Luke, I love you with my all my heart, with my whole being. If my loving you damns me to hell, then I will gladly go there if it will give you back your life. But how can love be wrong? How can loving you be wrong? How can you loving me be wrong? I cannot believe the One who is called Love condemns anyone for loving another. Please come back to me, Luke. Let me hold you in my arms, let me show you how special you are, how wonderful you are, how you make my life complete."
        I continued talking to Luke, not knowing whether he could hear me or not, whether it would make any difference or not. From time to time, Chelsea or one of the other nurses came to check on Luke.
        "You must be really fond of your friend," she said, making it more a question than a statement."
        "He is my life and my love," I responded.
        Chelsea looked a bit shocked, but then said,"Teenagers feel everything so deeply. I guess when we get older we forget just how intense friendships can be."
        "I hope I don't."
        "Is there any change?" I asked each time a nurse came to check on Luke.  Each time the answer was, "He's holding his own and maybe, just maybe his temperature is starting to rise, but he has a long way to go before it's normal."
        Sometime around five in the morning, I was completely exhausted and fell asleep with my head resting on Luke's bed, my hand still holding his. I must have slept for several minutes when Chelsea and another nurse came into the bay. "Sorry to disturb you," she said. (I was beginning to wonder where the battle axe called Chelsea was because this Chelsea seemed very nice.) "We need to check on your friend."
        The nurse with Chelsea, Gladys according to her name tag, said, "Chelsea worked over to make sure I knew the situation here and as soon as we check on Luke, she's going home.  Right, Chelsea?"
        Chelsea nodded. I decided it was a good time to take care of nature's needs and went to the restroom while the two took care of Luke. When I returned, Gladys said, "I saw you holding Luke's hand. Have you noticed anything?"
        "I don't think so," I said slowly, still in a bit of fog from falling asleep. "My hand was warm when I waked up, but it had been under that blanket thing."
        "In cases of hypothermia, the body's temperature drops below 95. Luke's was well below that. People used to think you needed to dump people suffering hypothermia into a tub of hot water to warm them up quickly, but now we know you need to very carefully and very gradually raise the body's temperature. That blanket affair is to warm Luke slowly. Your hand is a good indication. For the first time I can tell you there is a change and it is for the better. Luke's temperature is definitely on the rise the way we had hoped."
        I had always heard people say, "Thank God for small blessing," and I guess the slight change in Luke's condition may have been considered a small blessing by some, but it was all I could do not to burst out in Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus"--and I think I could have sung all parts!
        Just then another nurse came into the bay and said, "The Larsens are downstairs." Once again I leaned over Luke's still form and kissed him on the forehead. As I turned to leave, Gladys looked at me and gave me a smile.  I went down the stairs as the Larsens came up the elevator.
        When I reached the ground floor, David was waiting for me. "Morning, Stud," he said.  "Hear there is a tiny bit of good news.
        I nodded, then asked,"Why are you here this early? You didn't get home until late last night did you?"
        "Anything for a lover, besides, it helps cover the little lie I told your parents about why you would not be home last night."
        "Speaking of lovers, was I right in picking up lover vibrations between you and Dr.  Bailey?" David blushed bright red, stammered a bit, then said, "Nah, she is a doctor and I am a nurse. Besides, I'm several years older than she is. She'd not be interested in an old man with a kid."
        I didn't say anything, but thought to myself, "Man, since they are so helpful in getting you and Luke together, maybe turn about is fair play. I'll have to look into this."
        I was asleep before we were out of the parking lot, dreaming of Luke and me diving off the falls into the pool, our naked bodies plunging beneath the water then surfacing as we shouted just for the joy of being alive.
        I didn't even know when we got home. David picked me up, took me to my room, undressed me and put me to bed without awakening me.
        I woke up very confused. The sun was pouring in my window so I knew I was I still in bed in the afternoon. I knew it wasn't Saturday, in fact, I was pretty sure it was Tuesday, so why wasn't I in school? I looked at my alarm clock, which was not set, and saw that it was 3:00. Then it hit me like a sack of cement. I remembered, all in a rush, what had happened yesterday. I bounded out of bed, pulled on my boxers, and ran downstairs.
        On the refrigerator was a note, "David said you needed to sleep today so we left you in bed. We will be home immediately after school. He also said you were to call Dr. Bailey as soon as you were up. Mom."
        I grabbed a glass, filled it with OJ, and went into the library to get the cordless phone and the phone book. I found Dr. Bailey's number quickly and dialed it. It rang several times before a voice said, "Dr. Bailey's office."
        "This is Matt Greywolf. I have a note to call Dr. Bailey as soon as I waked up."
        "Dr. Bailey said you would call. She is with a patient right now, but she will call you back as soon as she finishes. May I have your number, please?"
        I gave her my number, finished off the OJ and went upstairs to my room. Since I didn't know how long I would have to wait for Dr. Bailey, I took the cordless phone with me to the bathroom so I could answer when she called, turned on the shower, adjusted the water until it was as hot as I could stand and got in the shower. I stood in the shower, letting the hot water wash away some of my tension and tiredness. Even though I had slept for about eight hours, I was still tired and exhausted, physically and emotionally, from yesterday's ordeal.
        After I finished my shower, I dried myself, brushed my teeth and fixed my hair. My father was very proud of his Lakota heritage and, in spite of objections by his principal when he first started teaching, wore his hair long. In fact, the only time it was cut after he left the Army was when he evened up the ends. Following his example, I also wore my hair long. I usually wore it braided or in a ponytail, a pony tail longer than most ponies had I might add! I am not one who usually spends time admiring himself in the mirror; I guess because I never saw myself as a cutie--I hate that word--or looker. After all, I certainly didn't have that All American Boy look. In fact, I seldom did more than glance in the mirror to see that everything was ok, but today was different.
        As I rapidly braided my hair, I thought "Luke loves me." For some reason , I stood in front of a full length mirror and asked myself, "What does Luke see when he looks at me?" I was kinda surprised when I took a what I thought was a critical, objective look at myself. My mother was half Korean. Her mother, my Korean grandmother, had fallen in love with an American soldier who deserted her when he found she was pregnant with my mother. My mother never even knew his name. My father was, as I had told Dr. Bailey, half Lakota and had no idea who his father was.
        Mom doesn't like it very much since she suffered a great deal in Korea because she was a "mongrel," but Dad sometimes joked about our being a household of half breeds and, he guessed, a quarter breed child. While he wasn't ridiculed as much as Mom for being a "breed," both Indians and whites had often called him names when he was a kid and I knew it must have hurt.
        With those ancestors, I was not surprised to see my dark skin. My heritage also took care of any excess body hair. In fact, although I was almost eighteen and had an abundance of hair under my arms and surrounding my cock, that was about it. My upper lip had just a shadow of dark hair, but it was so soft and short that I never bothered to shave. As I said, my hair was never really cut, so the braid hung below my waist. Actually, it was so long that when I left it loose, I could sit on it, and sometimes did it when I rushed into class just in time to hit a desk before the bell caught me. I was not especially tall--again a part of my heritage, but I wasn't short either.  For some reason, people lump Koreans with Japanese and think they are all short. Their Olympic basketball team should have made it obvious that Koreans can be tall. I stood at 5' 10" in my bare feet and weighted about 165. I, as Luke, was no jock, but did play tennis and baseball. I was also a runner. After our chores were done--we did live on farms after all--Luke and I ran every morning before school. To keep in shape for my two sports, I also worked out in the school gym the two days I did not go to St. Mary's to work on my music. I was clearly defined, but not muscle bound, with a well developed six pack.
        If I do say so myself, I have a great ass--not as great as Luke's--but certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Both Luke and I complained about girls pinching us on the butt in the hall. Eyes so brown they looked black, almond shaped, with long, very long, black eye lashes. I guess I got those from one of the unknowns in my background--my father's father or my mother's father.  As these thoughts ran through my head, I concluded that I wasn't such a bad looking almost eighteen year old.  One of my ancestors also provided the genes for decent equipment since I had a nice cock, uncut thanks to my dad's intervention, which now hung over a great set of balls. My cock was only four inches soft, but rose to a good six and a half inches hard.
        Usually when I was ready to shower it was hard and I generally had to take care of it with visions of Luke flooding my thoughts, but today as soon as I thought of Luke any possibility of getting hard was gone.
        I started to wonder why Dr. Bailey hadn't called as I finished in the bathroom. As I stood before the mirror, I started comparing myself to Luke. As I have said, my father started calling us Darkness and Light and the nicknames were used from time to time by our families and David and his son Michael. Luke inherited a whole load of Nordic genes. He was almost 6" tall and well developed. As I said earlier, we were near enough the same size that we wore each other's clothes. Since we swam in the nude ever since we were allowed to go to the falls without adults, I had often seen him naked. He, too, was well-endowed. Unlike me, though, he was cut. His cock was surrounded by a mass of blond curls and his underarms looked as if some magical bird had built a nest of blond hair there. He, as I had little body hair, but he did have to shave.
        Since we often stayed over with each other, I had seen his morning woody. Hard his cock was a bit longer than mine, probably seven inches, but thinner. Guess if you were into such things, you could calculate the volume of our two cocks and find they were essentially the same, just with different dimensions. His smooth skin was so fair it seemed to glow at times.  His hair I have already described. His eyes were the most amazing blue; they looked so deep it would seem you could dive into them. And nothing was more beautiful than Luke's smile. When he smiled, the whole world around him lit up.
        With that thought came another--I hadn't seen Luke really smile recently for several weeks. Again I felt guilty because I should have known something was wrong. I did recall mentioning it to him a week or so ago, but he dismissed it with, "I've just got things on my mind." When I reminded him that we had always talked things out with each other, he replied, "Well, this is something I just have to resolve myself, please."
        I should have known something serious was going on and have pushed further, but I must admit I was too engrossed in my own struggle with my love for Luke to say anything.  I was emotionally kicking myself when the phone rang. I grabbed it on the first ring.
        When I answered Dr. Bailey said, "Good afternoon, Matt. I've got a little bit of good news. Luke is doing a little better than holding his own. His temperature is rising exactly as we dared hope and his pulse is almost in the acceptable range, but still very, very weak. He is still not conscious, of course, but the drugs he took are essentially out of the picture.  He is now in a coma induced by the medical staff to keep his brain from swelling. He is not breathing on is own, but he's doing better than anyone here expected. I have no way of proving it at this point, but I am convinced someone who loves him very much is responsible."
        I was so happy I couldn't hold back the tears. "Thank God!" I said, "when can I see him?" "Well, the Larsens have been here--either one or both--since they came in as you left this morning and I don't think it would be a good idea for you to be seen in Luke's room since the rules are supposed to be very strict with only immediate family being admitted. Today is Tuesday so if you can pull another all nighter and still handle school tomorrow, you can come when the Larsens leave tonight, but if you don't show up for school, that's going to cause problems if we are not careful. I think your being here last night was, very literally, a matter of life or death for Luke and, to be honest, I don't know how many more nights you may need to spend with him before he is out of the woods. Dr. Walker would like to get him off the ventilator as soon as possible. People can get kinda addicted to one. Then there will have to be a whole battery of tests made to determine what can and needs to be done. I want you to realize that there may well be massive brain damage. It just depends on how much of the drug he had taken and how long he had been in the river before you and EMS reached him. Also, how long he had been in a hypothermia. But we need to talk about tonight."
        "Of course I'll be at the hospital. Where else would I be?"
        "There's a problem there. How are you going to explain your spending the night here to your parents, especially since Dr. Walker will have to insist, if necessary, that the Larsens go home for the night? And how can you be sure your mom and dad will not mention your being here to the Larsens? From what I understand from David, you folks are pretty much one big happy family," she said.
        "Well, I'll just tell Mom and Dad where I am going and why and why they can't tell the Larsens. "
        "Are you sure you want to tell them?"
        "Yes, I'm sure. I am positive they love me for who I am, and a big part of who I am is I am in love with Luke Hans Larsen. I suppose that means I am gay. I am their gay son who is in love with Luke Hans Larsen who loves me. He needs me very much right now and he needs to know that I love him. I don't see why I shouldn't tell my parents."
        "Let me ask you something very personal Matt. I am very much against labels for people because labels begin to define people and their personhood gets lost in a stereotype. Do you always, you know, fantasize about boys when you, you know?"
        I almost laughed as I said, "You mean when I jerk off?"
        I could see Dr. Bailey turning nine shades of red as she responded, "Well, yes, that's what I mean. Or do you sometimes fantasize about girls when you, you know."
        In spite of all that was going on, I couldn't help but laugh at this doctor's, this woman of the world's, embarrassment. "The honest truth is, I have never fantasized about a girl or a boy other than Luke. Always Luke, forever Luke. That doesn't mean that I don't notice a guy with a nice ass or a good looking gal with a nice figure--I noticed you didn't I--but anything having to do with being attracted to, liking, being in love with, fantasizing about--it's Luke, always Luke, forever Luke."
        "Then don't label yourself as anything other than Matthew Sarang Hanun Pomul Greywolf who is in love with Luke Hans Larsen. Now back to the issue at hand. Matt, I don't know your parents and David, who knows them very well, isn't sure how they will take your announcement.  After all, you are an only child, the only son. They, I am sure, expect grandchildren and grandsons to carry on the Greywolf name. What you are going to tell them will not be easy to take. I have seen a couple of young men come into the hospital where I did my internship so beaten when their fathers found out they loved a man that they were near death. You just can't know, can you?"
        "I believe with all my heart that my parents will accept me as who I am. Maybe it will be a shock--I know it will be a shock--but I am not afraid. Well, I'm not much afraid."
        "When will your parents be home?"
        "They should be home at any time now."
        "Would you like for me and/or David to come and be with you? David felt that you should all sit down as a family to sort this out and, you know, when he says family, he includes himself. Ordinarily he would include the Larsens, but right now we all know that would not be a good idea. You know that David is prepared to take both you and Luke in should things not go as well as you hope."
        "Yes, he told me that. I guess I haven't been thinking too clearly about the possible consequences of telling my parents. I just expected them to take my announcement the same as they have all others, including those which did not please them. Could you and David come over, please?"
        "I know David has made arrangements to get off a bit early to be there and I have one more patient to see and we'll come then. Say half an hour at most."
        "Ok, I won't say anything until you get here and we can all sit down and try to sort this out. Please check on Luke before you come."
        "Of course I will. You're a great kid, Matt."
        "Thanks. See you soon." As I hung up the phone, I heard the car pull into the driveway.  Mom and Dad were home from school. Mom teachers literature to juniors and has an AP English class for seniors. That AP class was a difficult one for me not only because Mom was my teacher, but also because it was one of the three classes I had with Luke. Frequently I found myself distracted by my blond god and, now that I think back on it, there was more than a few times when I found myself trying to get a glance of him, he was looking at me. When he saw me looking at him--strange I never really thought about it before--he would give me a smile that turned me to jelly and blush. The same was true of AP physics which was taught by my dad.  Come to think of it, I wonder if they have been as oblivious to what was going on--or not going on as the case may be--between Luke and me?
        The third class we had together was German. I kidded Luke about having a crip course because Gabrielle had insisted he and Mary Kathryn learn German at home. He actually knew more German than the teacher and when I had a problem, I went to Luke, not the teacher. By the way, I guess from what I have said, you know that Luke and I not only are good at our sports, but are also tops academically. We both have all four parents, plus David, to thank for that. They never accepted anything but our best.
        Mom and Dad walked into the house, each with papers to be graded. I met them in the living room, said, "Hello, Rents," which always got a rise out of both of them.
        "Hi. Juvenile Delinquent," Dad replied, "how did you day away from school go?"
        "Most of it just went. I was so out of it; I slept until three. By the time I had showered and gotten dressed, it was almost time for you two to get home." As I was talking, I took their papers and books and put them in the library/den where they would work on them later.
        "Have you heard from Luke today?" Mom asked as she kissed me on the cheek.
        "Yes, Dr. Bailey called just awhile ago and said he was holding his own on all counts and his body temperature is rising as they had hoped and his pulse rate even and almost as high as it should be, although very weak. He's still in a coma, but one induced by the doctors to protect his brain, and they are not sure how much damage has been done, especially brain damage."
        "That's really sad since he is one of the brightest students in the whole school. Present company included," Dad said as he walked toward me and gave me a hug. I think my parents so lacked affection when they were growing up that they wanted to make sure that I had plenty. I liked it!
        "Mom, Dad, David and Dr. Bailey are coming over just as soon as they can so we can discuss the situation. You know he tried to commit suicide?" Both nodded indicating they did.  "Well, David felt we needed to talk about it as a family before the Larsens are involved. You know what they believe about suicide."
        "Yes, and David told me about what happened with Fr. Muller last night. Are you sure you're ok, Matt? David said it was important for you to spend the night at the hospital, but that we needn't come because you were already asleep."
        "Sure, I'm ok. There was some question about what to do about the cut on my face but that got resolved. By the way, my Jeep is a mess and is still at the Larsens," I said to change the subject.
        "No, it's being repaired. I called and had it picked up this morning. I guess we'll have to do some fence repair as well. Seems you tried to take it with you. But what was the problem with the face cut?"
        "Well, David had stopped the bleeding and pulled the gash together with butterfly strips, but Dr. Bailey said she would have to get a plastic surgeon to redo it or I would have a scar. I didn't see what damage a small scar would do and, in fact, she and David thought it would be sexy! So how could I not leave it as it was? Dr. Bailey said I could take on a new name 'Matthew Sarang Hanun Pomul Barbed Wire in the Face Greywolf."
        "She thought a scar on my baby would be sexy? What does she know about beautiful boys?"
        "Mom, she knows I am a man, and a sexy one at that, but sexier with a scar. Besides, once you get a look at her, I think you agree that she is pretty sexy herself and that's enough to convince me she knows what she's talking about! By the way, I can't be sure, but I think she has a thing for David and David has one for her, but she is afraid to say anything to David because of Elizabeth and David is afraid to say anything to her because he thinks he's too old for her--maybe five or so years older--and he is just a nurse.  Besides, he's convinced that no woman is interested in a man with a fifteen--nearly sixteen--year old son."
        "I guess David doesn't see Michael as a plus, but I surely would, especially if a woman Dr.  Bailey's age wanted children and never had any," Mom said. "I know what it is to want a child and not be able to have one and the reason doesn't matter."
        I walked over to my mother and gave her a big hug and said, "But you have me!"
          "Of course I have you and you are my Sarang Hanun Pomul, but your father and I wanted more children. Seems that all three families wanted more. Elizabeth and David only had Michael, and the Larsens had Luke, then Mary Kathryn. You know they expected to have more, being good Catholics."
        "Well, if Dr. Bailey wants a fine man and a great son, she better grab David, that's all I can say," Dad responded to Mom's statement. This discussion had gone so far afield that I had forgotten what was coming up, but I was quickly brought back to earth when I heard a car arrive in the drive way. David and Dr. Bailey had arrived.

Luke
        Darkness, nothingness, the void.
        I was walking toward what seemed to be a cloud of darkness, but I knew it was nothingness, oblivion. I was surprised. I had expected to be greeted by Satan and be tossed into a lake of fire. I had been told that all my life, but no, what I faced was oblivion. I welcomed it. It would end my pain, my agony.
        For the past three years, at least, I had lived torn between agony and ecstasy--ecstasy because I was with the love of my life almost every day. We had three classes together at school and lived on adjoining farms. Matthew Sarang Hanun Pomul Greywolf, quite a mouthful. Of course, he was always called Matt, but I went to sleep every night with his name on my lips: Matthew Sarang Hanun Pomul Greywolf, Matthew Beloved Treasure Greywolf--how well his name described how I felt about him.
        Our families had been close friends since before we were born--we were born on he same day, but he has never let me forget he was the older one--by twenty minutes. He was so beautiful. I suppose you should call a man handsome, but Matt was beautiful. Smooth, perfect dark skin which spoke of his strength, not just physical strength, although he was strong, but also inner strength. Since we had never been modest around each other--we grew up being bathed together by our mothers, as soon as we were allowed to go without adult supervision, we swan in the nude below the falls of the river. We stayed with each other so often that we had about as many clothes at one place as the other so we often dressed in front of each other. I had seen the whole of him. In recent years it had become more and more difficult to avoid being aroused in such situations, but somehow or other neither of us mentioned it when I lost my struggle.
        Matt's face was perfect. His eyes were unbelievable. Almond shaped, but large, so brown they were black, and eye lashes to die for. They were so long they seems to make his eyes twice as large. Smooth face, just a shadow of soft hair on his upper lip. Lips perfectly shaped and utterly kissable, even though I had never had a chance to taste them, and red with life.
        Matt was well-endowed. While he had practically no body hair, when he raised his arms, he revealed a mass of black, coal black hair. His cock was surrounded by a similar bush of black hair, abundant since he was thirteen, five years ago. As beautiful as Matt was physically, he was even more beautiful inside-caring, loving, full of life and bringing joy to all around him. His passion for his music--he was an accomplished organist and composer--brought joy to many, especially to members of his church's--St. Mary's. In short, Matt was, in my eyes, perfect and I loved him with all my heart, my mind and my soul.
        But I could never tell him. He was first and foremost my lifelong friend and there was no way I was going to risk having him hate me when he discovered that I not only loved him as a brother, but was so deeply in love with him that I ached from not being able to hold him in my arms, kiss those perfect lips and make love to him.
        A week ago it all came crushing down on me and I made a decision which brought me to this place. I couldn't tell Matt of my feelings and risk losing his friendship and I might have been able to deal with that, but a classmate, Gregory, had been outted at school by an ex-boyfriend.  He was physically and emotionally abused. Some of the jocks had caught him leaving school and had dragged him into their car, taken him out into the country and sodomized him again and again, then beat him unconscious. When he was found, he was near death, bleeding and beaten.  But the torture he endured emotionally which being gang raped was perhaps worse. The body of a young man can heal quickly, the mind takes longer. When he regained consciousness, he reported to the police that the five guys who had raped him heaped verbal abuse on him while they sodomized him.
        The five were arrested, but were released to their parents until their hearing before the juvenile court.  They were loose and running around. While some of the teachers were very angry over the episode and made no bones about it, others turned the other way when some students started making heros of them.
        Gregory's family refused to even visit him in the hospital and sent word he was not to return home. Some relative in another state took him in, but I was terrified that if I should tell Matt of my love, it would somehow become known and the same happen to me, or even worse, to him. The Sunday after Gregory had been raped, Fr. Muller, our priest, has said that while rape and the abuse of another was to be rejected always, gays should expect to suffer from the hands of society because they were rejected by God. "They will all burn in eternal flames!" he concluded.
        Until that Sunday, I had never thought of myself as being gay. I was simply Luke who loved Matt. Did that make me gay? I guess--I knew it did. And I was damned. The rest of Sunday and Sunday night--I never went to sleep-- I brooded on what had happened to Gregory, what Fr. Muller had said, and decided what I must do. I am--was--a good Catholic and knew that suicide--self-murder--damned you to hell, but then I was damned already because I loved Matt.  What did I have to lose by taking my life? I would free myself the agony of loving someone I could never tell, I would be free of the fear of being discovered and abused as Gregory had been and--it took me a while to realize it, but it clinched my decision--I would free Matt from danger.
        No matter what I or anyone else said, if I was outted and it became known that I loved Matt, he would immediately be classified as gay by the assholes at school, and as innocent as he was, would be the object of their abuse, if not physical, at least emotional. I decided to commit suicide, to kill myself. I knew that the doctor has prescribed sleeping pills for my mother six months ago, but being the true Teutonic, she refused to take them after a few days. Monday morning, before the household was awake, I took the pills from the medicine cabinet and put them in my backpack.
        Monday I went to school, spending every minute I could with Matt. My heart was breaking, but I knew I was doing the right thing. I had to protect Matt and if that cost me my life, I was willing to pay. Matt went to St. Mary's for his final period of the school day three days a week--Monday, Wednesday and Friday-- to work on his recital. He was taking an independent study in music and that recital, which was to include at least two short compositions of his, would determine his grade for the study. I had kidded him about a piece called "Luke" and he had laughed at the idea.
        I had art class last period. While I went to class, I was supposed to mount an exhibition in the spring which would determine 90% of my grade. I was good at art and enjoyed it, but today I couldn't keep my mind on anything other than the fact that my time on earth was rapidly drawing to a close. Finally I simply told my art teacher I was leaving school. He knew that I didn't do that without a reason and told me to just go ahead; I didn't need to checkout in the office.
        I rode to school with Matt when he was not going to practice at St. Mary's, but when he did, I rode my bike to school. It was one way I kept in shape.  I jumped on my bike and started riding home, a good five miles, and before long I realized I was crying, a seemingly endless supply of tears poured from my eyes. I was crying for myself and my love of Matt, but I was also crying for Gregory and all those who suffer because they love another man. I cried because I would never hold Matt in my arms, never kiss his lips, never make love to him. I cried.
        Before I realized it, I reached my house, put my bike up, took the sleeping pills from my bookbag and walked across the pasture to the falls on the river. The river, and especially the pool below the falls, was a special place for our families--Matt's, mine, and another neighbor, Michael's. As babies, we had been brought here to play in the shallow area, to picnic, to enjoy the coolness of the river in the hot summer. As soon as we were old enough, we--Matt, Michael, my sister Mary Kathryn, and I--went to the river to swim almost every day in the late spring until early fall. Until we were ten or eleven, we always swam nude, even Mary Kathryn. Mama pitched a fit when she discovered we were still swimming nude at that age. From then on, when Mary Kathryn was with us, we wore something, even if just our boxers or briefs. When there were just the three boys, we crossed two cane poles across the path to the falls as a warning that we were to be left alone, skinny dipping.
        As I sat on the river's edge, recalling those carefree moments, I could see Matt's perfect body in a graceful dive from the lip of the falls into the pool almost thirty feet below. After daydreaming for awhile, I started taking the sleeping pills, washing them down with the clear cold, cold water of the river. When the last pill was down, I sat still, picturing Matt, my Beloved Treasure, in my mind, and weeping softly because of what could never be between us. I began to feel the effects of the pills and soon I became very sleepy, barely able to keep my eyes open. I took off my clothes, even though it was mid-March and still pretty cold, folded them neatly as an indication that I had thought through what I was about to do and checked to make sure that the letter I had written Matt was in the back pocket of my cargo pants. I then walked up the trail to the top of the falls.
        By the time I reached the top I was feeling very, very drowsy and dizzy. I walked out onto the lips of the falls and dived in. I do not remember anything after my face touched the water until now, as I face the blackness of nothingness before me. I was walking slowly toward nothingness when I heard a faint sound. It seems to be a voice behind me, but I can't be sure.  Then I recognized Matt's voice, calling me back, proclaiming his love for me. That was to be my punishment, my hell. A demon with Matt's voice speaking the words I had only dreamed of hearing when I was alive. Hell's flames would have been better! But the voice continued and I realized that no demon could speak with Matt's voice. He was too good, too wonderful for a demon to have his voice. Suddenly, I turned from the black nothingness and with all my being, I ran away from it. With my total being, I fought against entering the nothingness of death. I had to live because Matt said he loved me as I loved him!

Part Three

Matt
           No one was surprised when David just opened the door and walked in. He was family. Just behind him was Dr. Bailey. As soon as he was inside the house, he introduced Dr. Bailey who said, "How are you doing, Matt?"
        "I'm fine, considering."
        She smiled and nodded. David gave me a big hug and said, "I've got news for you, St--Sport.  Luke's temperature is approaching normal. His pulse is steady, but still very weak, his blood pressure is low, but rising and other vital signs are improving. Dr. Walker says there was a sudden change in his apparent willingness to fight to live which took place last night. He hopes to start weaning Luke from the ventilator soon. Of course, he is still in a coma, but it is induced by the doctors. The drug he swallowed is out of his system."
        "His mother told Dr. Walker he had taken the phenobarb from the medicine cabinet. The doctor had given it to her some time ago, but being the stoic German, she had taken only a few, maybe ten or so, before she stopped.  There were maybe twenty or so caps left, but she was not sure of the exact number," Dr. Bailey said.
        "But why would such a promising young man do such a thing?" my Dad asked.
        "He is such a beautiful child, what could have been so bad to make him do such a terrible thing?" Mom added.
        "Well," David looked at me, then Dr. Bailey, "that's half the reason we two are here."
        "I need to do this," I said as I pulled Luke's letter from my pocket. "Mom, Dad, yesterday I went to the Larsens to change clothes after David and his crew were on their way to the hospital with Luke. I had jumped into the river with everything on except my shoes. Luke had left his clothes, neatly folded, on the bank of the river and I took them with me to pick up Gabrielle.  When I went to his room to change, I put on the clothes he had been wearing."
        "Why would you do that," Mom asked.
        I pretended I didn't hear her and went on, "After Luke had been taken to ICU, I found a letter, this letter, addressed to me in a pocket. I know this is going to shock and upset you, but you need to hear it." As I unfolded the letter, the tears started and I simply couldn't see to read Luke's letter, although I practically knew it by heart. Dr. Bailey put her arm around me and David took the letter from my hand and read it aloud, slowly. Mom and Dad were surprisingly calm when David finished.
        Dad said, "Teenage suicide is bad enough at best, but young men who love other young men seem to stand a better chance of survival in combat. Damn, when will people learn?" Mom said nothing, but had a very strange look in her eyes.
        "Mom, Dad, that's only half the story. If my priest had told me constantly that I would go to hell for loving a man and had my parents preached the same thing, I might have written that letter.  I have been in love with Luke for as long as I can remember and I, too, was afraid to tell him, not because of any fear of hell, but because I was afraid I would lose him as a friend and I couldn't stand that."
        Having just said what he had said, I was shocked when my father got a stricken look on his face and said, "I need to be alone for awhile," as he turned and walked though the house and out the back.
        Mom, who never, ever had a trace of Korean accent looked at me in disbelief and said, "But the sons. Where come the sons?"
        I knew exactly what she meant and there was no answer I could give her.  I was bawling like a baby. "So much for knowing how your loving parents will react," I said bitterly."
        "Don't dismiss them, Matt. Remember your reaction when you read Luke's letter?  Remember how surprised you were? Remember how you berated yourself because you had not known something was not as it appeared? Give your parents the same break," David admonished me as he embraced me and held me tight. When he released me, he said,"I think I'll go and see if I can find Greywolf," as he followed my father's path through the house.
        "Do you want me to talk with your Mom?" Dr. Bailey asked.
        "No, I think I need to do that,"I replied, "but I would like for you to come with me." The door to the library was half open and I saw my mom sitting at her desk, her head in her hands, weeping bitterly. "Mom, can we talk?" She got up from the desk, ran to me and I actually dodged fearing a blow, which was very strange since my mom had never hit me, not in my entire life.  But right now everything was strange. My reaction made her cry even more.
        "My Sarang Hanun Pomul, how could I ever have placed myself ahead of your happiness?  How could I ever have risked making you hate me because I wanted grandsons. Can you ever forgive me?"
        "What's to forgive, Mom? You have a right to have expected grandchildren. If I could choose, I would chosen to have loved some beautiful woman and made you beautiful grandsons, but I had no choice. I have no choice! When will people learn, this is not a lifestyle you choose, it just is; it's just as much a part of who I am as the color of my hair or the shape of my eyes. Even when I have tried to deny it, my love for Luke has always been there. I know I want to spend my whole life with him, but . . . ." And the tears started afresh.
        Mom pulled me to herself and gradually started rocking me in her arms. Without realizing it, I'm sure, she began to sing a Korean lullaby she often sang to me when I was very young and which she always sang when I was very upset or ill. I found myself relaxing and holding on to her, once again a child, beloved of his mother. Dr. Bailey walked over to the two of us and put her arms around my mother, who was surprised because she was in a kind of trance. She looked up at Dr. Bailey and said, "He is my beautiful young man, my Beloved Treasure, who loves so deeply, so very deeply. I love him; I love him so very, very much." We all just sat quietly in the library thinking our own thoughts when I heard the back door close.
        I started to get up, but Mom motioned me to be still. Soon Dad and David appeared in the door of the library. David sat on the arm of the overstuffed chair where Dr. Bailey was seated and Dad came and sat beside me on a small sofa. "Matt, I know I hurt you by my reaction and I must appear a terrible hypocrite after what I said earlier, but there is something that I have told very few people which you need to know. Something which was pushed so far down in my guts that I had forgotten it, but when you told me you loved another man, emotions long forgotten flooded out and made me act an ass. You need to know the story so you will know that it has nothing to do with you and your love of Luke."
        "As you know, my mother left Rosebud Reservation when she was barely fifteen. Her mother had left her with her grandparents when she was eight or nine. Her grandparents were old and couldn't handle a wild girl, so she became even wilder. She was trading sex for alcohol before she was thirteen. Her grandmother died about that time and only her grandfather was left to look after her. She became even worse. Finally, he just threw up his hands and she left Rosebud. She came back when she had just had her sixteenth birthday and thought she might be pregnant. She was sick and had been physically abused. Her pregnancy was confirmed immediately and Grandfather took her in and was determined she would have a healthy baby. He took her so far up in the hills that she couldn't get alcohol; he saw that she ate right, even if it meant he went hungry. When her time came, he delivered her son--me."
        "As soon as they came back to grandfather's place, she took off, never to be heard of again, leaving me with grandfather. By that time, he was a very old man. The winter I turned six, he died. My mother's brother took over the place and I became little more than his slave. It started with physical abuse when I didn't do exactly what he wanted, but later it became sexual abuse. So when you said you loved Luke, all the horror of that sexual abuse fell on me afresh. I know there was no love involved in the abuse I suffered from my uncle. And I know you, my beloved son, well enough to know that when you say you love someone, it is love unto death. I am so sorry, so very, very sorry that I reacted as I did, but in all honesty, it happened before I could have a rational thought. I love you, my son, more than life itself and would never hurt you intentionally. But my kind of irrational, unintentional reaction is something I fear for you and Luke."
        "That's one of many other issues which we'll have to help you two deal with later, but right now we have to deal with immediate concerns," Dr. Bailey said.
        "Yes," Dad agreed. "and one of those is to make it very clear to you, Matt, that as much as I love Luke, and I do, he is a very, very lucky young man to be loved by you Matthew Sarang Hanun Pomul Greywolf!"
        By this time, the whole room was filled with weeping, laughing people hugging each other. I noticed that Dr. Bailey fit right into this gathering of the family. Dad went into the kitchen and came back with five wine glasses and a bottle of wine. "Let's celebrate the power and promise of love," he said.
        After we had finished our wine, David and Dr. Bailey explained what had happened the night before and that they thought I should spend the night with Luke again. "There's no way anyone can explain the progress Luke has made, especially in light of his will to die yesterday, except that it has come about by the power of Matt's love and Luke's love for Matt.
        "We'll just have to deal with Jens and Gabrielle when Luke has recovered because our job right now is to see that he does recover," David said.
        Dr. Bailey said she would take me to the hospital on her way home.
        "That will be awhile since the Larsens won't be leaving for some time. Meanwhile, Greywolf, call and ask the Larsens to come by for dinner when they leave the hospital. And all of you are staying for dinner, right?" Mom said, a statement, not really a question. With only a little protest, all agreed.
        "I'll help in the kitchen," Dr. Bailey said.
        "Thank you, Dr. Bailey," Mom replied, "but that's not necessary."
        "Of course it's not--and call me Margaret since I seem to have been adopted into the family--but it'll give us time for women talk.
        "I need to get to the hospital as soon as the Larsens leave.
        "I don't think so," Dad said. I was horrified. He had just heard how much Luke needed me, now he was saying I couldn't go. Before I could protest, he continued, "Matt, you need to eat, so why not here. And one way to make sure the Larsens don't know what is going on is for you to be here for dinner." Of course it made sense, even if I didn't like it.
        David said, "I need to get home and see Michael. Because of the events of yesterday, he was already in bed when I got home and we only have a little time this morning before he had to leave for school. I did tell him about Luke--just the bare details. So I'll go and pick him up and come back for dinner."
        "David, if you don't mind, I'd like to go get Michael and bring him over.
        "Is that the only reason you're going? If so, I will go."
        "No, I think I need to tell him what happened to Luke and why."
        "Are you sure that is wise," David asked.
        "No, but I think I have learned how you gotta trust true friends and I trust Michael is a true friend."
        "Granted, but are you sure a near sixteen year old male is ready to deal with two men loving each other?"
        "I hope so. I want to be honest with Michael. I owe him that for being a friend." Little did I know that Michael had a major surprise for me.

Luke
           I could still hear Matt's voice, begging me to come back, telling me how much he loved me, asking God to send me back. The black nothingness of death was behind me now, but still pulling me toward oblivion. My desire for death was still acting even though I now wanted to live more than anything else. I felt I was caught in a struggle between life and death. I was in that struggle and the outcome was not at all clear to me. It seemed that I was in a timeless place where the drama of life and death could go on forever. I felt myself growing weak in my struggle to live. I had desired death, wanted death too strongly.
        Yet, every time blackness seemed to be getting the upper hand, I could hear Matt's voice, if not his words, pleading with me, pleading to God for my life. I could feel Matt's presence near me, I could even feel his touch, but his hand in mine seemed like a burning fire, mine was like ice, the coldness of death lay over my whole body. Finally I sank, exhausted, knowing that the blackness would overcome me. I cried: I cried because of my cowardice; I cried for my lost opportunity to love and be loved; I cried for my lost life. I cried for all those who take their own life because they love another man. I cried for Gregory and the abuse he had to endure. I even cried for those who hate and heap abuse on those of us who only want the freedom to love who we love. Then my awareness was swallowed into oblivion.
        Later, it had to have been later, but time meant nothing in this place, I became aware again. I could see the blackness of death was still in this place with me, but it seemed farther away than before. I still felt the iciness of death throughout my body, but somewhere within, there was a glow, a spot of warmth. I felt nothing beyond the coldness and the tiny warm glow, the tiny spark of life within. I don't know how, because I could feel nothing outside myself, but I knew that Matt kissed me on the forehead. I knew he was leaving, but the kiss promised he would still be with me.
        I started to relax my vigil against the blackness and it started advancing again. Once again, all the strength left in my whole being became focused on running from death to life. I willed myself to keep going, to keep running, to crawl if need be, to escape that blackness. I fought until I had once again left the blackness behind and, once again, sank into the place of unawareness. But I was not dead yet! There was still hope that if I struggled hard enough, I could escape death and return to the Land of the Living and to Matt.

Part Four
 
 
Matt
          As I drove my father's truck to Michael's house, I kept running over what I would say to him. Michael was only a year younger than I and we had been close since forever. Luke, Michael and I were more like brothers than neighbors. Our families were so close we just grew up together. Of course, just about the same could be said of Mary Kathryn even though she was a girl. She and Michael were the same age--a few weeks apart--and she was just like one of the gang. In fact, she was ten or eleven years old before she stopped skinny dipping with us at the falls. And I'm not sure she would have stopped then except her mother found out she was doing it and was horrified. Dad told us we should use a Lakota custom: if you didn't want anyone to come into your space, you put crossed sticks in the entrance. So we had two cane poles that were put across the path to the falls when the guys were swimming. Other times we all wore swim gear; actually, to tell the truth, we usually just stripped to our briefs or boxers. I found myself smiling, thinking of all the happy times we had at the falls. Sometimes just the three guys skinny dipping, sometimes the four of us, and very often the three families all swimming and picnicking. It was a place, a special place, that kinda bonded us all together. Suddenly I wasn't smiling because I remembered where I was headed and why and that the special place had almost become a place of separation.
        When I reached the Andrews' place, I walked into the living room and called out for Michael.
        "I'm upstairs in my room, Matt, come on up." When I entered the room, Michael got up from his computer, walked toward me and embraced me in a bear hug. "I am so sorry, so very, very sorry," he said, still holding me tight. The water works started again. "Luke will make it, Matt. I know he will. He just has to." Michael gave me a final hug, then turned and sat on his bed, patting the place beside him indicating that I should sit down.
        "Michael, I consider you a good friend, closer than a brother, and there is something that I feel I should tell you, but I want you to read this first." I gave him Luke's letter.
        Before he had time to read more than a few words, he put the letter aside, looked up, and said, "I have known Luke was in love with you since just after Christmas. He didn't know I knew and I didn't want to tell him because of how I found out and I certainly couldn't tell you because of what it might have done to your and Luke's relationship as friends. It was a secret that I wished I had not discovered because I ached for Luke every time I saw him looking at you with pure love in his eyes, looks that you may never have seen. I found out because one afternoon when I was at Luke's, he was showing me the new computer he got for Christmas when Gabrielle called him to do something. As he left, he accidentally restored a file which had been minimized. It was a journal entry. I should not have read it, but I guess most people would have and what I read was an outpouring of his love for you and the heartache he felt because he could not tell you. If I had only known where it would lead, I would have asked Dad what to do. But we never know the future. So I knew before you did, so there's nothing to tell, is there?"
        "And you didn't mind that Luke was in love with a guy?"
        "I guess I had a 'Well, well' attitude. Do you know that Dad has or had a gay brother who he hasn't seen or heard from in years?"
        "Yes."
        "Well, needless to say, he has no truck with people who gay bash. I think we might have still been involved in church, even though the church folks were never around while Mom was ill and dying, except for the fact that 'most every Sunday the sermon made some reference to gays or fags, or queers, or some other putdown. Dad finally got fed up with it and told the preacher off. In fact, the Sunday it happened, he had mentioned how much I reminded him of his brother so I know he was thinking and hurting over that and then to go to church and have that kind of garbage thrown at him was too much. Had a couple fellows not taken Dad aside, I am sure there would have been a preacher with a black eye and I'm not just kidding. So being gay is the way some people are, Dad says, and I believe him, that's just the way you are, same as being tall or short." With those words, Michael gave me a punch on the arm and laughed. Although he is a year younger, Michael is already six feet tall, and still growing.
        "God, I'm glad to hear you say that, Michael. And we do have something to talk about. I'm not as careless with my journal, it is encrypted. But had you been able to read it, you would have discovered I was writing almost the same thing about Luke. I love Luke Larsen with my whole heart. I have loved him for as long as I can remember. But I, as he, would not risk destroying our friendship by telling him I loved him. I guess that makes me gay, I really don't know because I have never thought about girls or boys, men or women. It has always been Luke."
        "Holy shit!" Michael exclaimed as he smacked himself on the forehead. "I have to be some really dumb ass shit not to have realized that the looks Luke gave you when you were not looking were the same as the ones you gave him when he wasn't looking. I really feel like a dumb ass and guilty as hell because. . . ."
        "Don't, Michael, don't go blaming yourself for what Luke did. We did what we thought best with what we knew. In hindsight, Luke and I could have had a couple years of loving each other instead of both being in pain and now him being barely alive. But we didn't know. Never would I blame you for being a good friend, and that is what you are and have been.  But we had better get to the house. The whole gang will be there along with Dr. Bailey."
        "Do you think there's something going on with Dr. Bailey and Dad?"
        "I think both of them would like for there to be, but are afraid to do anything about it."
        "Maybe we should take seriously the lesson we have learned about keeping love secret.  What do you think, Bro?"
        "Sounds like you are wise beyond your years, Little Bro." With that we both stood up, ready to leave. I had started calling Michael Little Bro the first time I noticed he had passed me in height.
        As we stood up, Michael again hugged me and said, "I really am sorry that Luke did what he did, but maybe, in the end, it will be for the best. I love you, Bro."
        "Love you too, Little Bro."
        When we got back to my house, the Larsens had just arrived with Mary Kathryn. After all the greetings were over, we all sat down to dinner. The "grownups" in the dining room and the three "kids" at the kitchen table--the way it had been since we were old enough to eat without doing serious damage to each other with our forks. We could hear the adults talking, being very guarded not to let the Larsens know what everyone else knew about Luke's suicide attempt.
        After dinner, the adults were having coffee when Mary Kathryn announced that she needed to get home to do her homework. "I'll drive you," I said, "OK, Dad?"
        "Of course," Dad responded.
        "Look, it's very warm for a March night and the moon is full, so if I could get these two handsome gentlemen to walk me home, it would be pleasant stroll." I opened my mouth to speak because Mary Kathryn drove to the mailbox for heaven's sake, but she gave me the sign to keep my mouth shut.
        "I'm sure they would be happy to protect you from the dangers of the night," said Jens.
        "Unless they are the dangers of the night themselves," David laughed.
        "They better not be if they want to remain alive dangers to anything!" Jens said, then everyone got very quiet, remembering that one member of the family might not be alive tomorrow.
        "Well, let's go," Michael said and we all said goodnight and walked out the door. Soon the three of us were walking down the road in the moonlight, arm in arm. "Matt, Mary Kathryn knows about my reading Luke's journal," Michael said as we walked slowly toward the Larsen's place.
        "Then she needs to know the rest since I know I can trust her. Mary Kathryn, I love you like the sister I never had and would not hurt you for anything, but there is another side to this whole business of Luke's suicide attempt. He left a letter addressed to me in which he told me what Michael had read in his journal. What hurts more than anything is that I have felt the same way about Luke for as long as I can remember. I didn't need anything at the hospital last night, the cut on my face was such that I decided not to have anything more done to prevent a scar. . . ."
        "You'll have a sexy scar!" Mary Kathryn exclaimed.
        "And I hope--I pray that Luke will live to see it and think it is sexy. But anyway, Luke had no desire to live and was literally willing himself to death according to Dr. Walker. Dr. Bailey thought it was possible that even though he was in a coma, he might be able to hear my voice.  Dr. Walker agreed so as soon as your parents came home, I went to Luke's room where I talked to him, held his hand, and prayed all night. I will go back tonight, and every night until he comes back to me. And I know he will."
        Tears formed in Mary Kathryn's eyes and slowed flowed down her cheeks. "Matt, you know I love you the way I love Luke. I know how devoted you and Luke are to the each other and to Michael and me. Luke's love for you and yours for him is so powerful that if love can overcome death, Luke will live, I believe that." I gave Mary Kathryn a big hug and the three of us continued our walk, holding each other tightly.
        When we reached the Larsens, I kissed Mary Kathryn on the cheek and turned to go when I realized Michael still had his arms around Mary Kathryn. He drew her closer to himself and she put her arms around his neck and suddenly they were engaged in a wild passionate kiss! All I could say was, "Holy shit! What's going on here?"
        "There's another secret among the families," Michael said. "Mary Kathryn and I discovered that what we felt for each other was more than friendship when we all were busy celebrating Christmas. We were alone in the living room at your place when Mary Kathryn stepped under the mistletoe and I walked over to her, took her in my arms for a friendly kiss.  When her lips touched mine, I forgot all about a friendly kiss and went for the gold. You know Mary Kathryn and her ability to take care of herself so I expected, at least, to be knocked on my butt, if not given a black eye, but what I got was a kiss back that made me see stars. I'm not kidding! I thought I could pass out. My knees went weak and I thought I'd fall. Instead, I managed to stand on shaky knees and give back as much as I received. When we heard someone coming, we finally broke apart--reluctantly I might add--and Mary Kathryn said, 'I thought you'd never get up the courage to do that!' Well, you can guess the rest."
        "But why have you been so secretive about it? You don't have the problems Luke and I will have, if he lives."
        "Look, we're still fifteen. It will be a awhile before we can drive. If our parents knew, we would lose the freedom we have had growing up, so we decided we'd just keep our love secret and enjoy each other as friends, as we always have, and let you and Luke give us space for our love to mature and develop."
        "God, you sure are wise for kids," I said, laughing, but realizing that they had worked out their own way of letting their love grow and sure as hell had were doing a better job than Luke and I. I again gave Mary Kathryn a good night kiss on the cheek and said, as I hugged her,"You are a lucky young woman." Then I turned to Michael, hugged him to myself and said, "And you are a damn lucky guy!"
        As Michael and I walked back to my house, we talked about the complicated loves among the four of us and just before we reached the house, Michael said,"And we still have the problem of how to deal with David and Margaret."
        "Yea."
        As soon as the Larsens left for home, Dr. Bailey took me to the hospital where I once again spent the night talking to Luke, praying, and occasionally crying when I could no longer hold back the tears. The rest of the week and the first of the next was spent in the same routine--school during the day, hospital at night. The days I was supposed to be at St. Mary's practising, Gertie insisted I go home and get some rest and covered for me the few times the school called to make sure I wasn't just skipping. The two days I usually worked out, I also went home and collapsed. I tried very hard to keep up with school, doing homework every free minute I could find, even doing some in Luke's room. Chelsea or Gladys saw that I ate and were careful not to wake me up when, in utter exhaustion, I fell asleep, my head on Luke's bed. As much as I wished it was otherwise, my strength wasn't superhuman. I could tell I was constantly fatigued, my grades were dropping like a rock and my music was suffering.
        I really realized just how fatigued I was on Sunday when, during Mass at St. Mary's, I fell asleep at the organ, my head fell on the keyboard and the resulting blast almost sent half the congregation into cardiac arrest! When Mass was over, Fr. Tom called me into his office and asked what was up. I thought he knew I was spending nights with Luke because I had told Gertie and was sure she had told him.  But she hadn't. "Gertie is the best parish secretary in the world; I think she had taken the Vow of the Confessional as well as I." When I told him what I had been doing, he said softly, "No man has greater love than to give his life for his friend." Then continued, "Matt, you can't keep up this pace or you'll end up in the hospital and that certainly won't help Luke."
        I knew I couldn't keep up what I was doing much longer. At the same time, both Dr. Bailey and Dr. Walker were convinced that my presence and love was keeping Luke not only alive, but steadily improving. I was really in a dilemma.

Luke
     &nbs