The pain in Jake's chest from the cracked ribs became a burning agony that flared with every little bump the motorcycle passed over. By the time he was half way home, he couldn't take it any longer. It had gone from painful to breath to having muscle spasms in his rib cage every time he tried for a deep breath. He thought of pulling off the pavement and just laying flat on his back in the gravel along the side of the roadway, but he knew some 'Lookiloo' would cause an accident if he did. He kept going. Thankfully, he soon came to a rest stop. He rolled the bike onto the grass and let himself slowly tumble off and onto his back. He lay there panting, taking tiny short breaths, trying to relax enough to get a good draught of oxygen

A trucker that had passed him on the freeway and pulled into the rest stop ahead of him, sat in his cab and watched Jake slowly glide off the freeway figuring he was in some kind of trouble. He climbed down from his truck and ambled over to stand looking down at Jake. "Did some idiot put a bullet in you?" he asked, looking for blood. Jake hadn't pulled his helmet off so the trucker hadn't seen the shaved stitched cuts on his head.

"No...broken... rib... spasms...," Jake gasped out between shallow breaths.

The big burly trucker looked at Jake, looked at his bike and then stared at his truck before turning back to Jake. He knelt and undid the strap under Jake's chin, then pulled the helmet off. He whistled at the fancy haircut. "So where are ya headed?" he asked.

Jake slowly drew in a deep breath. "Uni City," he gasped.

The trucker nodded. "My destination, too." He looked back at his truck and then asked, "Do ya think that with my help you can walk over to my truck, climb up into the cab and crawl into the bunk back in the sleeper?"

Jake studied the man for a moment. "What...about...my...bike?"

"I'll roll it into the back and tie it down. I'm only half full."

"Why are you....doing...this?"

The trucker shrugged and stood up. "You can't get there by yourself." He scuffed the toe of his boot in the turf. "Besides, it'd be kinda hard for you to finish your next book laying out here in the middle of nowhere. Sooner I get you home the sooner I get to read it." He looked off at the horizon and then back down at Jake.

Jake grinned at him despite the pain. "I knew you...had a...motive."

"Oh, I'd a helped you anyway even if you were a nobody. But now I gotta good story I can tell," the trucker said, grinning back at him.

He helped him to his feet, and with Jake's arm around his neck, he half carried him to the truck. He had to push Jake up into the cab because he didn't have the strength left to pull himself up. Jake crawled over the passenger seat and made his way into the sleeper where he collapsed with a grunt onto the unmade bed.

The trucker rolled the big old bike around to the back of the truck, pulled out the ramp and rolled the motorcycle inside. He tied some rope around the handlebars and then tied each end to the sides of the truck where it couldn't move. When he crawled up into the cab, he looked in on Jake. "Don't you have some pain pills for that rib?" he asked.

"Yeah, right here...in my shirt pocket. I was afraid...to take them and...ride my bike. They make me...kind of dopey. I was afraid...I'd end up...in a ditch."

"Here's some water." The trucker handed him a bottle of chilled water from the cooler he kept beside the driver's seat.

Jake raised up on one elbow and fished in his shirt pocket for the vial of pain pills. The trucker took the vial, opened it and shook two pills into his hand, without reading the instructions which read, '½ tablet every four hours as needed'. He slipped the vial back into Jake's shirt pocket.

After swallowing the pills and drinking most of the water, Jake lay back. The trucker grabbed the heel of Jake's right boot. "Let me get these off of you and you can relax better. I'll have you home in a couple of hours."

"Thanks, Man. You are...an angel...of mercy."

The trucker blushed and said, "No, I'm not, I'm just an old road wrangler."

"I don't...even know...your name."

"I'm sorry. Not very polite of me. I'm John Bodley."

"And I'm Jake...Shipman. It's nice to...meet you, John."

"The pleasure's all mine. May I call you Jake?"

"Of course, John."

John Bodley followed Jake's directions and pulled his big semi truck up in front of Jake and Charley's new home. After the trucker had helped him get his boots back on and guided him out of the sleeper, through the cab and down to the ground, Jake nearly collapsed he was so woozy from the pills. The trucker lifted him back to his feet. "Damn, Man, let me see that bottle again." He fished it out of Jake's shirt and read the instructions. "Holy crap, no wonder you're drunk. You're only supposed to take a half pill."

Jake grinned at him. "At least I had a comfortable ride. Thanks, John."

He dug into Jake's pocket and found his house keys. With Jake's arm over his shoulders and his own arm around Jake's waist, he helped him into the house and deposited him on the bed. After unlocking the garage, he unloaded the old Indian motorcycle from the back of the truck and rolled it inside and relocked the door. He went back into the house to return the keys to Jake, all the time ignoring the people standing around gawking like they had never seen a big semi truck before.

Jake sat on the edge of the bed looking up at the burly trucker. "I don't know how to thank you, John. I feel you'd be insulted if I offered you money, but it's yours if you want it."

"I don't want your money, Jake. Just pass the deed along to someone who needs it. And, maybe, you could send me an autographed copy of your next book." He said with a sly smile.

"That I will do. Would you like me to sign a copy of Sands for you?"

"Ahh, that would be nice of you, for sure, but make it to my grandson, Mark."

Jake carefully got up and wobbled into his office, took a copy and personalized the front page,

"To John,

One of God's Angels on earth.

Thanks is never enough,

Sincerely, Jake."

And then he took another one and signed it,

"To Mark,

May you become as great a man as your Granddad.

Good Luck, Jake Shipman."

When John read the inscriptions his eyes got a bit watery. "My grandson will treasure his as much as I will mine. He's sixteen and wanting to be a Marine. He's like you, Jake. Maybe this book will change things for his generation. That's my hope, anyway." He gave Jake a gentle hug and was on his way.

Jake headed back to bed. As he relaxed, he wondered what the trucker had meant when he said his grandson was like him. A writer? Or maybe he was saying the kid was gay.

He glanced at the clock. Charley would be coming home in less than twenty-four hours. He dozed off without even taking off his boots. It was after seven when he woke up. He decided that a shower would make him feel better. He struggled to sit up, but couldn't begin to unwrap his chest. He was going to need help. His first thought was about calling Jim, and then the memory of all that had happened with him flooded his mind. For a moment he was filled with anger, but then he forced himself to let it go. No, Jim was out of the question.

He then called Jason and Pete. When he told them why he needed their help, they wanted to know how he'd broken a rib. They were there within minutes after he promised he'd tell them the whole story when they got there.

While Pete unwrapped Jake's ribs, Jason got a tub of hot water ready. Jake walked into the bathroom in his 501s. Pete helped him sit down on the toilet lid to remove them. Suddenly Jake got modest. "I can't get naked with you watching me."

Pete laughed. "You'll have to, Jake. You can't even get your pants off without help."

"Well, don't go checking me out."

Jason turned from the tub to look. He giggled. "I've been waiting for this moment since the day I met you, Big Guy. You think I'm not going to look? You're crazy."

"Yeah, Jake, just ignore us and let it all hang out." Pete laughed.

Jake glared at them. They both stopped their kidding and looked repentant.

"All right, we'll behave. But I can't promise not to look," Jason said in a serious tone looking Jake in the eye. But he couldn't keep it up, he turned away snickering.

"Jason, please, I need to get into that water."

"Okay, okay." Jason backed up.

"Stand up and unbutton," Pete said as he helped him stand. Jake unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down over his hips. Pete gasped when he saw Jake's bruised genitals. He stood in front of him blocking Jason's view. Jason made an exaggerated point of leaning around Pete to check Jake out. "Oh my god, did they do that to you, too?" he whispered. Jake nodded.

Pete helped Jake sit and then he knelt in front of him, grasping the hems of his pant legs, he pulled them off ."It's as big and beautiful as the rest of you, Jake, even if it is kinda technicolor," Jason stated with a big grin.

Jake couldn't help but smile as he tried to glare at him.

"Jason, cut it out," Pete said, holding his hands out to help Jake stand.

Jason grinned impishly. "Sorry." Jake stepped into the tub. "But I've got to say the same for your butt, Big Guy."

Jake settled into the hot water with a sigh and then glared at his little friend again. "Are you saying I have a big butt?"

Jason grinned and shook his head. "No way. I'm just saying it's as pretty as the rest of your body."

Pete stepped in front of Jason and frowned at him. "Would you leave the poor man alone. Geez."

"Hey, Jake knows I'm just kidding him. He's my big brother. It's my right to kid him."

"Well, let him relax. He has to tell us what happened, so lay off."

Jason sat on the toilet lid and Pete hoisted himself onto the counter. Jake, safely hidden beneath the sudsy water, relaxed and told them about Robert and the fat cop's attack on him. And then he told them about the ride home.

"Wow," Jason commented. "Truck drivers look like a bunch of mean sons of bitches. You'd never think they might be kind-hearted and even read books."

When Jake was ready to get out of the tub both young men grabbed towels and dried him. Jake made a point of taking the towel from Jason and drying his private parts while Jason grinned and looked envious. Pete popped him with his towel making him yip and flee the bathroom. "Thanks," Jake gasped. "He sometimes doesn't know when to quit."

"I love the ornery little critter with all my heart. But sometimes he is a bit exasperating."

"But I'm always lovable," Jason yelled from the safety of the bedroom.

After the boys left, Jake realized that he'd forgotten to let Chess know he'd arrived home safely. After assuring him that he was okay, Jake proceeded to tell Chess about his trip home.

"Damn it, Jake. I offered to drive you home. Why didn't you accept?"

"I should have. I didn't realize how bad it is to have a broken rib."

"But you're okay now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now."

Chess still wasn't placated, but he figured Jake didn't need to be harangued. So he just said, "You're hard-headed as a mule sometimes, Son."

Jake made a joke of it. "It's good I had a hard head, don't you think?"

Chess didn't laugh. "Yeah, it is," he sighed. "Take care of yourself, Son,"

Gloria's three sons had all grown up and had lives of their own. Chess had his law practice. She'd gone through the empty nest syndrome when Charley had gone into the Marines. She kind of went through the same thing again recently when he moved to Uni City. Going through the change (menopause) for Gloria was no easy thing. She'd once been the happy, loving homemaker and mother. Gloria had what she some days felt was a creeping madness. One moment she'd be feeling normal and the next she was in a rage; anything and everything aggravating her. Her two daughter-in-laws could do nothing right.

And then Jake came on the scene, since he wasn't really part of her family, at least not a legal in-law, it was open season on him. He was fair game. Gloria had a difficult time accepting that her youngest son was gay and had found the love of his life. With her imbalanced hormones and being forced to accept facts that she had no desire to accept, made everyday life all the more miserable for her and Jake became her scapegoat.

By the time Charley finally discovered what she was doing to Jake and put a stop to it, she'd begun to realize the mistake she was making in not accepting Charley's sexual preferences. But, by then, she'd inadvertently tapped into Robert's homophobia.

Her hormonal imbalance had readjusted and she was back to her old self, by the time that Robert attacked Jake and ended up in jail. She was now feeling responsible for the whole incident. Guilt ridden, she kept to her rooms, feeling that everyone was blaming her for what Robert had done. Watching Chess accept and take Jake into his life as another son only made her feel more guilty.

At first she tried to do the same. She welcomed the chance to try to make amends with Jake through the estate sale. Thursday and Friday had gone well. She was feeling like Jake had really forgiven her for her previous maliciousness and that they were developing a friendly relationship. But then Robert had attacked Jake with that stupid cop's help.

No one said a thing about her being responsible for the incident. No one needed to, she took on the cloak of guilt all by herself. Her second son was sitting in a jail cell waiting to be tried for attempted murder. His wife had filed for divorce, and Gloria felt she was the cause of it all.

She had as much as accused her husband of being involved romantically with Jake, even though she knew there was no reason to even think that. Now she felt alienated from him and couldn't look him in the face. Chess tried to make amends with her, but she closed him out. Why? She couldn't tell you. He'd been the one constant in her life since the day she'd met him back in college. Her guilt twisted her thinking. She went from coming out of her rooms for the evening meal, to taking her meals alone, locked in the privacy that her rooms afforded. When Chess knocked on the door inquiring about her, she asked to please be left alone. When he honored her request she blamed him for abandoning her. She'd become as much a prisoner as her son.

After seeing the report of his brother's attack on Jake, Charley succeeded in convincing himself that it was all his fault. He should have seen how Robert felt about Jake and his relationship with him. If he'd just been more observant, he could have prevented the attack. He shouldn't have let Jake go back to help with the yard sale. He should have insisted that his mother and sister-in-laws wait for his return from Chicago. Subconsciously, he knew it was all a bunch of bullshit, but he managed to mire himself in self-condemnation and despondency.

He watched Johnny talking to Tim and felt guilty for not calling Jake, feeling like a heel that Jake wouldn't want to talk to anyway. All the while, he never considered how his stupid attitude and reactions might be affecting Jake. Johnny tried to talk sense to him, but he refused to listen, so he eventually left him to wallow in his self pity and recriminations.

Friday morning finally arrived to find Jake back at his word processor. He'd discovered that Aleve, an over the counter pain pill, made him comfortable enough that he could breathe without to much discomfort. He sank his mind into the words that poured onto the screen and before he knew it, it was noon. He called Tim to see if he'd heard from Johnny. Tim's response was laughter. "Are you kidding? I talked to him for an hour last night and for another fifteen minutes this morning."

Jake put his feeling of envy aside and asked if he was going to meet the plane. Tim told him that Dave had arranged for Charley and Johnny to take a limo that would drop them at their respective doors. Jake didn't know that and felt a little put out that Charley hadn't told him, until Tim explained that Dave had just told him moments before Jake had called. With a promise to get together for dinner before the big event, Tim and Johnny's commitment ceremony, Jake cut the connection and sat back staring at the computer screen.

Charley had been withdrawn since the morning he'd seen the TV news about Jake's attack. He'd apologized profusely for his family and told Jake he loved him. But other than that he'd been untalkative. Jake sighed and decided to call Chess. Without thinking he called the house number. Gloria answered. He asked her how she was doing. There was a drawn out silence before he heard her sigh. "I'm doing as well as could be expected. How are you doing?" she asked.

The question, sounding sincere coming from Gloria, surprised Jake. He really hadn't thought that she gave a damn. "I'm on the mend. I will be getting the stitches out in the morning."

"I'm so sorry that this happened, Jake."

"I am too, Gloria, I'd give anything to take last weekend back."

"Charley's coming in this evening?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, his flight arrives at six fifteen."

"Give him my love."

"I will."

"Take care of yourself, Jake." With that the line went dead.

Jake was momentarily stunned. He looked at the phone, blinked and then dialed Chess's cell. "Hello, Son." The warm loving baritone voice embraced Jake.

"Hey, Dad."

"Charley home yet?"

"This evening. Six fifteen."

"Tell him to give you a big hug from me."

"Thanks, Dad."

There was a pause in their conversation, then Jake asked, "Chess, has Robert seen a counselor yet?"

Chess sighed. "No, Son. He's still being an ass."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking. I swear, Dad, that just before he hit me with that tire iron, he looked like he was going to hit the cop instead. And you know he didn't put much force into it. And he could have hit me more than once. But he dropped the tire iron and just watched the cop kick me. He could have killed me if he had wanted to. Of course, he did kick me in the head, but I think it was just to cover his ass with the cop."

Chess was silent.

"He needs to get past his anger." Jake continued. "He's angry with himself, you know. I am just the object he chose to take it out on."

"I've long suspected that Robert has some hidden issues he refuses to deal with. I never thought they would manifest themselves like this."

"Dad, if we can somehow get him over this blind anger and get him to show that he is remorseful for what he did, then maybe the charges can be reduced to just assault and battery."

"Jake, would you please explain to me why you're not out to get back at Robert for attacking you. Why are you defending him? Why aren't you angry at him? He's my son and I'm so angry, I feel like I could beat him to a pulp."

"At first I was, Dad. But I've had plenty of time to think about Robert since I met Charley. I had a lot of Psychology in college. I nearly majored in it. Robert has deep seated issues he needs to get out in the open and deal with. I'm just a bit of the catalyst."

"You're just a bit of a saint, Son."

It was only moments after Jake finished his conversation with Chess that Dave called. "I just called to tell you that Charley will be taking a limo from the airport, Jake. Since neither you and Charley nor Johnny and Tim have a vehicle that will hold four men, I figured I'd save both you and Tim from having to drive out there."

"Thanks, Dave. That's very thoughtful of you."

"You're not too eager to see your man are you?"

"Are you kidding? Broken rib and all, he's going to be assaulted when he steps through this door."

"Broken rib? You or Charley? I haven't heard about a broken rib."

Jake proceeded to tell him about his previous weekend. He didn't mention that one of his attackers was Charley's brother.

"Damn, Jake, what are we going to do to keep you from harm's way?"

Jake chuckled. "I do seem to be a magnet recently."

"Well, Charley will be home to take care of you in a few hours. Lock your doors and stay inside until he gets there," Dave joked.

"Maybe I should hide under the bed."

Dave laughed. "You're too big, Jake. I'll talk to you later."

After talking to Dave Jake remembered his missed appointment with Allen. He called him and they ended up talking for nearly three quarters of an hour. Jake always felt better about life after a session with him.