Date: Tue, 27 Jan 2009 22:27:17 +0000
From: hankster1430@bellsouth.net
Subject: Moonrise  Short Stoty

I love the twilight hours, when the moon starts to rise in the heavens.
For me it is the most romantic part of the day.  For most of us, it marks
the end of the work day.  It is time to kick off your shoes and lie back,
and show that special someone just how much he means to you.

I had left my office late that Friday afternoon, gearing up for a romantic
evening with my partner Troy.  In fact, I was gearing up for a romantic
weekend.  We had both agreed to turn down all invitations and spend the
entire weekend at home, making love.  We arranged to meet at our favorite
gay bar for TGIF drinks before holing up for the weekend.  Our Friday night
dinner was in the refrigerator and all it needed was heating up.  "All I
need is heating up," I thought with a smile.

I arrived before Troy, and had to fight my way to the bar, because the
place was so crowded.  Several friends grabbed me along the way and
insisted on some sort of conversation.  It took so long to get to the bar
that I figured that even if Troy came late, he was probably here by now.
Optimistically I ordered a drink for me and one for him.  With drinks in
hand, I started to fight my way from the bar.  I looked for a couple of
free inches to stand and wait for him.  The few tiny tables in the place
were all occupied.

I found a spot near the front door where I could place the drinks on a
small ledge, built just for that purpose.  I also had a partial view of the
entrance so I could keep an eye out for my guy.  I was a little worried
because it was kind of late for him.

I was sipping my gin and tonic when I heard the noise.  There was a
screeching of brakes, followed by a very loud thud.  Instinctively I knew
that it wasn't two cars colliding.  I had never heard a sound like that
before, because I had never before heard a human body being hit by a moving
car.

Loud as the noise was in the bar, I distinctly heard screams from the
pedestrians on the street.  I put my drink down on the ledge next to Troy's
and pushed my way to the front door.  I had a terrible feeling in my gut.

I could see the form of an adult male lying on the street and another man
standing over him and sobbing.  "I didn't mean to do it," the man cried.
"He ran right out in front of me.  There was no way I could stop and I was
going so slowly.  Oh God. Oh God."

The form in the street was covered with blood, but there was something
familiar about the tattered tweed jacket he was wearing.  The dread in my
stomach was taking over the rest of me.  I began to panic and ran toward
the dead man.  Strong arms grabbed me and restrained me.  I tried to break
free but they were too strong for me.  Finally I conceded defeat and stood
with the army of rubberneckers in abject silence.  It took about ten
minutes for the ambulance to get there and I stood stunned, completely in a
state of shock.

The EMT's put the body on a stretcher and covered it with a plastic.  "Does
anyone know the victim?" one of them asked.  I stepped out of the crowd
sobbing.  They tried to question me, but soon realized that I needed
medical attention myself.  They put me in the ambulance and I sat next to
the body.  One of the technicians sat next to me and tried to ask me
questions, but I couldn't process what he was asking me, and I was useless.

Finally he asked me what the victim's name was.  "Troy Farraday," I sobbed
out.

"I've got his wallet right here," the EMT said.  He looked in and said,
"I'm afraid it's a match."  My sobbing grew stronger.

"Are you related to the deceased?" he asked.

"I'm his partner," I said barely above a whisper.

"Who is his next of kin?"

"I am."

"I mean does he have any blood relatives?"

"Troy was raised in foster care.  He never spoke of any blood relatives.  I
am his closest of kin."

"Look, the EMT said.  I'm going to list you as his first cousin.  When we
wheel him to the morgue, just follow me to make the identification.  Let's
keep it our little secret.  I've seen enough of these domestic partnership
situations to know how unfair they are.  I don't mean just gay couples but
unmarried heterosexual couples too."

"Thank you," I said.  "I am truly grateful."  I resumed chest heaving sobs
and the EMT put his arm around me.

We reached the hospital and I followed the EMT to the morgue.  The man in
charge filled out a bunch of papers and it seemed like hours until he was
done.  They put Troy on a gurney and eventually he would be put into a
vault until the funeral home claimed the body.

The kind EMT removed the plastic from Troy's face and I nearly fainted.  He
was so covered with blood and his face was so disfigured that I could not
make a positive ID.  I asked the EMT if I could see Troy's fingers.  He
exposed both hands and the corpse was wearing the matching wedding band we
had given each other after we had committed to one another.  We had gone to
a nearby church, kneeled down before the altar, read wedding vows to one
another, and exchanged rings.  Maybe government didn't recognize our union,
but we did, and so did God.

All the while the EMT was standing by me.  If I could have thought clearly,
I would have wondered why he wasn't off again saving a life or two.  The
pathologist instructed me to make funeral arrangements ASAP and to arrange
with the morticians to pick up the body.  I was in a trance.  I just nodded
and started to leave when I fainted.  When I awoke, it was I who lay on a
gurney.  Standing at my side, holding my hand was the EMT.  He looked in my
eyes and said to me.  Hi Buddy.  My name is Warren.  What's yours?"

"I'm Luke," I croaked.

"You're all right to leave, but I don't think you should be left alone."
He leaned down and whispered in my ear.  "Look," he continued.  "My car is
at the fire station.  I just need to return the ambulance and I'll drive
you home, so you come with us."  I was too weak to object and I knew I
needed help getting home.  I needed to face the task of arranging the
funeral and that would take all my strength.

"Thanks," I said.  "You are so kind.  Why are you being so good to me?"

"I'm gay too.  My partner was killed in Iraq and I know what you are going
through.  It's the very least I can do."

As we left the hospital, and Warren and his fellow EMT were helping me into
the ambulance, another ambulance drove up to the emergency entrance.  The
EMT's wheeled another bloody man out of the ambulance.  At least this one
was alive, but not looking too good.


Troy Farraday was just putting on his jacket, preparing to leave his office
to meet his partner, Luke, for TGIF libations.  Just then a west coast
client called to get some much needed information.  He realized the time
difference and was apologetic, but he assured Troy that he would only be a
minute.  The minute became more than half an hour.  After he hung up, Troy
ran out of the building.  He knew a short cut to the bar.  If he ran
through the alley way between his building and the one next door he didn't
have to go all the way up First Avenue and cross at 31st Street to get to
Second Avenue.  He would already be at Second, and the bar would be just a
few yards away.

He sprinted through the alley.  None of the late afternoon sun filtered
through either of the two buildings.  It wasn't black as night, but it was
darker than twilight in the alley.  Troy did not know what hit him.  He was
struck from the rear with a crowbar.  His assailant hit him over and over
again until he lost consciousness.  The assailant then stripped off Troy's
tweed jacket, his gold wedding band and, of course, he took his wallet.

While the perpetrator was beating him, some of Troy's blood sprayed on his
forehead.  He was not aware of it.  When he had taken what he wanted he ran
toward Second Avenue.  Before he reached the street, he saw a clear opening
in the traffic which would enable him to make it across the avenue without
stopping at the curb.  Just as he reached the curb, the blood on his
forehead dripped into his eye.  For just a moment he was blinded and so he
failed to see the car that had just pulled away from the curb.  He was hit.
His body flew up in the air and landed several feet forward, moving with
the car.  By the time the driver could stop the car, he had run over the
crook another time.

It was almost a half hour before someone else used the alley as a short cut
and discovered Troy's bloody, comatose body.  He called 911.  Another half
hour passed before the EMT's arrived and sped toward NYU Medical Center.

The ambulance carrying Troy arrived just as Warren was helping me into his
ambulance.  When we arrived at the fire station, Warren had to hand in some
reports.  He sat my robot like body on a comfortable chair.  Finally, when
he was ready to leave, he helped me to his car and started out.

"Where do you live?" Warren asked, realizing that he had taken his report
so mechanically that he didn't remember where the victim had lived.  I told
him where my apartment was and Warren commented that he lived a few streets
away, and that I was actually on his way home.  Warren was lucky enough to
find a parking spot in the crowded street, and helped me up to my
apartment.

"I'll make some tea," Warren said.

"I'll make it," I said, and I put water up to boil in a tea kettle.  I also
set the table.  I placed a tea bag in each cup and sat down to wait for the
water to boil.  Suddenly my chest began to heave and I started crying
again.  Warren stood up and took me in his arms to comfort me.  I cried
more softly and finally said to Warren, "I have dinner for two in the
fridge.  It just needs to be heated.  Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Yes, I would.  I don't want to leave you alone.  Come let me help you."

Preparing dinner helped me get a hold of myself.  The two of us busied
ourselves setting the table and heating the meal of pot roast, roasted
potatoes and creamed corn.  I took some rye bread out of the freezer, and
put it in the microwave to defrost.

I began to talk about Troy.  I told Warren how we met, how we fell in love,
how much we loved each other.  My eyes were teary as I spoke but I didn't
cry again.  Then Warren started to talk about his dead partner, Matt.
Their love affair was equally torrid, but Matt was in the army.  Matt had a
two week furlough and went to New York where the two men met in a gay bar.
After Matt was discharged, he relocated to New York and they moved in
together.  Unfortunately Matt was a reservist.  His unit was reactivated
and deployed to Iraq, where he was killed by a land mine less than two
weeks ago.

We both began to cry and we held each other tightly.

"Troy was so fastidious about everything.  I can't believe he would be so
foolish as to step out in front of traffic like that," I said.

"Maybe he was so anxious to get to you, he dropped some of his guard.
We'll never know, will we?"

After dinner we cleaned up and sat down on the sofa.  Neither of us talked
much, but I kept sobbing.  Warren held me tight.  Finally he said, "I don't
want to leave you alone tonight. I'm off for the weekend.  How about I camp
out on the sofa?"

"Would you?  I'd like that.  I can give you a new toothbrush and some
underwear and stuff that would fit you," I said.  "But the sofa is
uncomfortable.  I have a king size bed so there's plenty of room for the
two of us," I told Warren.  "You can sleep in the bed."

"OK," Warren said.  He looked at his watch and said, "Holy mackerel.  It's
past midnight.  Let's turn in."

We went to the bathroom together.  I have a double sink and we brushed our
teeth standing side by side.  We spoke a little.  I can't remember what was
said, and Warren called me Matt and I called him Troy.  We actually laughed
at our Freudian slips.

I asked if he wanted to shower and he said he was too tired and suggested
we shower in the morning.  When we got to the bedroom, Warren stripped
completely.  I was surprised and I guess he noticed.  "Oh, I'm sorry," he
said.  "I always sleep in the nude and I just didn't think."  He reached
down to get his shorts, but I said, "No don't bother.  I always sleep nude
too."

We both climbed into bed, but neither of us slept.  I was sobbing as
silently as I could, and I distinctly heard Warren do the same.  Without
realizing what we were doing, we turned toward each other and held one
another tightly to comfort each other.  Even if our cocks touched, we were
unaware of it.  We were both flaccid and sex was the last things on our
tortured minds.  We fell asleep holding each other in a comforting embrace.


At the hospital, they could find nothing on Troy to identify him.  They
labeled him John Doe and began a battery of tests.  They were relieved to
diagnose severe contusions on his skull, but there was no internal bleeding
and as far as they could tell, there was no brain damage.  They wouldn't be
sure of anything until he awoke from the coma.  They couldn't even be sure
if he would ever awaken from the coma.  They hoped that some family member
would inquire after him and identify him.  He was an obvious crime victim
and the police wanted to interview him as soon as they could.

Warren and I tossed and turned fitfully.  We slept a little bit, but the
sleep was far from restful.

At about 2 AM Warren asked, "Are you asleep, Luke?"

"No," I answered.  "How are you feeling?"

"Sad, blue, you name it.  Luke, I find that when I can't sleep if I whack
off, it helps me relax and fall asleep.  If you think you would like to do
it, I can go in the other room."

"You need it as much as I do," I said and my voice cracked.  "Let's do it
together."  As I suggested that we masturbate together, I pushed the covers
down with my feet.  "Troy, my love, I miss you so much," I cried out loud.
I started to whack off, but I was crying so hard, my stroking was useless.
Warren was doing the same with equally unsuccessful results.

"Here," he said.  "Let me help."  He reached over and started to play with
my cock and balls.  He stroked a bit and tickled a bit and I actually got
aroused.  When I was partially erect he began to stroke and I hardened even
more.  I reached over and took his flaccid cock in my hand and did the same
to him.  Soon he too was hard.  We stroked for awhile and I was getting
close.  It must have been pure reflex because without any conscience
intent, I leaned over and took his cock into my mouth.  As I did that,
Warren twisted around into a sixty-nine position and devoured me.  It
wasn't long before we both came and drank every drop.  Warren turned around
and we lay side by side.

I pulled the covers up and leaned over and kissed Warren.  "Thank you,
Warren," I said.

"Thank you," he answered and we both fell into a peaceful sleep.  Warren's
sleeping solution had worked for us both.


Troy remained in a coma all day.  Late in the afternoon, he was bathed by a
male nurse who was not afraid to really clean him.  They changed his linens
and gave him a fresh hospital gown.  When they were satisfied that the coma
patient was comfortable, the nurses left the room.

Troy opened his eyes.  He had no idea where he was, but he knew he was in a
bed, a hospital bed.  He could see out the window.  The moon was rising.
"I'm going to be late meeting Luke," he thought.  "The moon is already
rising."  Then he fell asleep.  It was not the sleep of a coma, but an
ordinary sleep.  His body was so traumatized and exhausted that he slept
until mid morning the next day.


Warren and I did not wake up until about the same time as Troy.

"Are you upset about what we did last night?" Warren asked.

"No, no," I assured him.  "We needed to comfort each other, and we did.  I
don't believe either one of us is ready to start thinking about a new
relationship.  That doesn't mean we can't be friends.  Come let's take a
shower and I'll make breakfast.  Then please help me make funeral
arrangements.  I don't think I can handle it alone."  We showered
separately.


When Troy awoke, he immediately called for anyone to help him.  Two nurses
rushed in smiling.

"I need to pee," he announced.  The male nurse helped him out of bed and to
the bathroom.  When he was put back in bed, he barked.  "What do you have
to do to get something to eat around here?"  Then he started to cry.

"How did I get here?  Why does my head hurt so much?"

"You were beaten up and apparently robbed.  The police will want to
question you," the nurse informed him.

"I'm afraid I won't be much help.  I don't remember anything and I sure
didn't see who or what hit me," Troy explained.  "Oh God, did anyone inform
my partner?"

"I'm afraid not.  We don't even know who you are.  You had no ID on you,"
the nurse said.  "How about enlightening us while we wait for the
neurologist."

The nurse took out a pad and proceeded to get as much information as Troy
could give him: name, address, social security number, Health Insurance
Company, etc.

Warren and I were making arrangements at a local mortuary when Troy called
home. He got the answering machine and left a message.  Then he called my
cell phone, but I had turned it off so as not to be disturbed during the
preparations for Troy's funeral.

When the arrangements were done, Warren volunteered to take me to lunch and
I gladly accepted.  As we left the funeral home, I turned on my cell phone.
"One missed Call," the screen informed me.  I retrieved the message.  I
listened and I thought that this was someone's idea of a sick joke.  I
listened again.  It didn't sound like a joke.  I asked Warren to listen.

He turned white.  "Holy shit," he gasped.  "We better get to the hospital
and quickly."  On the way to the hospital, Warren pulled out his cell phone
and called the police.  Then he called the mortuary and put a hold on the
funeral arrangements until an unexpected development could be verified.

Warren took us in through the emergency entrance where everybody knew him.
We rushed up to Troy's room.  His head was bandaged, his eyes were black
and his chin was blue, but it was Troy, for sure.  I wanted to grab him,
but he looked so fragile that I was afraid. Gingerly I embraced him and he
hugged me back, but I heard him groan.  Obviously he was in pain.  Warren
just stood by smiling at us.

When at last we could talk, I introduced Troy to Warren.  I told Troy all
that Warren had done for me when I thought he was dead and I couldn't
function on my own.  I omitted that we had sex together.

Troy held his hand out to Warren and thanked him profusely for having cared
for me.  In a short while two police detectives entered the room and
flashed their badges.  They were wise enough not to interrogate Troy or ask
too many questions.  They just let him talk until he told them all he knew.
While Troy was talking, I didn't see Warren slip away.  When he returned he
had a plastic bag containing Troy's wallet and gold ring.  "I retrieved it
from the morgue," he said.  "They have changed the corpse's name to John
Doe pending an ID.  The police are going to finger print the body."

Just as the police were leaving, the doctor arrived.  "Hi," he said
brightly to all of us in the room.  "I'm Dr. Ryan.  I need to ask you a few
questions.  First of all, what's your name?"

"Troy Farraday."  The doctor looked at me and I nodded.

The doctor then proceeded to ask a slew of meaningless questions like where
Troy lived, where he worked, who was the Governor of New York, who was the
President of the United States, etc.

"Good," the neurologist said.  "I don't believe there has been any brain
damage.  We'll keep you here for a day or two for observation and then you
should be good to go."  He left abruptly.

I turned to Warren.  "I'm staying with Troy.  I'll sleep on the chair, but
you should go home and get some rest."

"OK!" Warren said, but I'll be back first thing in the morning.  He gave me
a big hug and said, "I'm so happy for you, for both of you, I really am."
Immediately, my brain, which was composed of romance cells, began to search
my memory banks for a suitable someone to fix Warren up with.

I didn't know where the time had gone to, but the commissary staff was
delivering dinner to the patients.  Unfortunately, Troy was stuck with a
liquid diet.  I wasn't very hungry but I went downstairs to the cafeteria
and got myself a sandwich and a coke.  I gobbled down the food so I could
get back to Troy.  I sat down in the chair at his bedside, and held his
hand.  We looked out the window to see the moon rising.

"Beautiful sight," I commented.

"I agree," Troy said and tightened his grip on my hand.

I began to cry. "I thought I had lost you."  I lay my head down on Troy's
chest and he ran his finger through my hair.  I could feel that he had put
his ring back on.  I sat up and kissed him full on the lips.  Holding his
hand, we both stared out the window watching the moon rise.  "I love you,"
I said.

"I love you more," he replied.