---

Christmas would be at home. The twins were adamant about it; and Dori put it to her father very succinctly, "Since Neal completes our family, Dad, there's no reason to go elsewhere."

"So we invite your grandparents and uncle up here?"

"Ah, Dad," Tim complained, "do we have to invite Grandmother? She's such a wet blanket."

"Tim, I'm surprised at you."

"Why?" Dori came to her brother's defense. "You don't like her any more than we do."

"Billy, how do you feel about it?" Buzz knew his oldest son disliked his grandmother more than anyone.

Slumped on the couch looking bored, seventeen year old Billy shrugged. "Whatever. You know she's only going to make us all miserable."

"Well, we want Granddad and Uncle Will here, so I guess we'll just have to put up with Grandmother," Dori replied.

Buzz smiled at how grown up Dori was being. Billy shrugged again and mumbled, "Whatever."

Buzz knew that Doris considered him beneath her daughter and had continued her antipathy after they were married. After Claire's death, Doris had gotten even worse. Not wanting to have to speak to her, Buzz called Bill's office and extended the invitation to him. He then called Will, Claire's brother, and invited him to join them.

Since it would be Neal's first Christmas with them, Tim and Dori were excited and determined that this was going to be a Christmas to remember. With Neal's help and Maria's guidance, they opened up the storage room and brought out all the boxes of decorations that hadn't been touched for the last two Christmases to the living room.

Neal noticed Dori sitting away from the activity with a box of tree ornaments. Tears streaked her cheeks as she lifted each piece from the box, lovingly admired it, then carefully placed it back in the box. He quietly sat down beside her and rubbed a hand up and down her back. She smiled up at him.

"These were Mom's favorite pieces. This one is over a hundred years old. It belonged to my great-grandmother Cecelia," she told him, holding up a delicate glass ornament. "Mom loved it the best. She always hung it at eye level in the front of the tree."

"In memory of your mother, we should carry on her tradition. You should hang it just as your mother did."

She looked up at Neal, wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled. "I love you, Neal. I'm so glad you're part of our family."

They spent hours decorating the huge living room, readying it for a festive joyous time. It was a family custom to not get a tree until December 23rd, then decorate it on Christmas Eve.

Buzz didn't expect to get home until late that afternoon - after the Christmas party for his office employees. Neal had left the house early to do some last minute gift shopping. Billy had gone out, telling no one where he was going or when he'd be back. So only the twins and Maria were there to greet their grandparents when they arrived at ten a.m.

The twins eagerly hugged their grandfather and were warmly hugged and kissed in return. Doris coolly accepted their dutiful hugs and put them to helping unload the car. Maria did not go out to greet them. She had no use for Claire's mother. Bill Bowden slipped into the kitchen, kissed Maria on the cheek and wished her a happy Christmas. "I, too, wish you a very happy Christmas, Senor Bill."

"One of these days, you're going to have to drop the mister, Maria. I'm just plain ol' Bill. She smiled and turned back to preparing the lunch that she served half an hour later on the patio. She did not join them as usual; she refused to have anything to do with 'la gran mama', if she didn't have to.

As the Bowdens and their two youngest grandkids ate, Doris brought up the subject of their new tutor.

"Your daddy tells us that he hired a tutor for you. Is he helping much, Dori?"

"Oh, yes, Grandmother, Neal is very good at making our lessons interesting again."

"How often does he come out to work with you?"

"Oh, Neal lives here… he's with us all the time."

Never imagining that Doris would invade the privacy of their bedrooms, Buzz hadn't considered fooling the Bowdens about where Neal slept. But Doris had prowled through the bedrooms off the lanai soon after she'd come into the house. Each of the three kids' bedrooms had a double bed. One of the two guest rooms had a queen-size bed, the other a standard double; neither was occupied. The room at the end of the lanai, which had been Claire's study, had no bed. Since Neal only used the room as a study and dressing room, he had removed the bed right after Thanksgiving and replaced it with a beautiful hand carved wooden sofa with loose cushions that he'd found in the storage room.

"Where does he sleep, Tim?" She asked.

Tim choked on a swallow of milk and, before he could cover his mouth with his napkin, spewed it over his plate. He turned crimson as he coughed; clearing his throat, he looked warily at his grandmother.

"Are you all right, dear?" she asked.

Not aware that his grandmother had already been through all the bedrooms, he said, "Dad changed Mom's study into a bedroom for him."

Doris wondered if the sofa was a hide-away. She would check that out later. "How does your dad feel about him?"

The question was directed at Tim, but Dori piped up, "Dad loves Neal." Realizing what she'd just said, she covered her mouth and ducked her head in embarrassment.

"What do you mean, Dori dear?" Her grandmother asked, delighted that Dori had just let slip such a delicious tidbit.

"She didn't mean anything," Tim said, coming to her defense. "She just says things that come out wrong, that's all." He didn't like his grandmother.

Doris gave Tim a stern look. "Let Dori tell me herself." Her voice had sharpened.

"Let the child alone, Doris. Stop intimidating her." Bill said in a low voice to his wife. Doris thrived on other's discomfort. Over the last few years, her personality had completely changed. She was now a conniving harpy, where once she'd been a reserved, but caring person.

"Do I intimidate you, my dear?" she asked her granddaughter.

"I-I only meant that we all like Neal, and Daddy does, too. That's all."

"I see," Doris said, smiling to herself. There was something that the twins were definitely trying to cover over.

As soon as they could, Tim and Dori made the excuse that they wanted to get their school homework out of the way, so they could enjoy the rest of their holiday and fled from their grandmother's presence.

Bill Bowden had quietly sat through lunch listening to Doris's interrogation. He was still stewing over an argument he and Doris had on the drive up. When the twins disappeared into the house, he turned on his wife. "Whatever you're up to… leave it alone. Doris, try to be nice for a while. What are you up to anyway?"

"Nothing," she casually said, trying to slough off his suspicions. "Really."

He harrumphed and folded his arms across his chest. He'd lived with her for too many years. He'd watched the gradual change in her these last few years as she turned from being a fairly warm person into a mean shrew. He instinctively felt that she was cooking up some kind of trouble.

Doris couldn't contain herself. She loudly whispered, "Bill, there's something fishy about this tutor, and I'm determined to find out what it is."

"Leave it alone. Whatever is brewing in your devious mind is none of your business."

"These are my grandchildren, and I suspect they need protecting, even if you don't."

"I think Buzz is doing a great job of raising them. This young man has brought them out of their depression and got them back on track in school, so keep your nose out of it."

She sighed dramatically, "If you insist."

Bill felt she was giving in way too easy; he would have to stay alert.

Once the twins were in Dori's room, she turned and wrapped her arms around her brother's neck giving way to tears. "Daddy's going to be mad at me again. I just can't keep my mouth shut. What am I going to do?"

Tim comforted her with a hug and a reassuring pat on the back. "I think you should call Dad and tell him. That way he'll be ready for Grandmother when she starts making trouble."

"You think she will?"

"You know how she is… she will, if she can. I don't know why she had to come here for Christmas anyway," he said.

"It's better than going to her house."

Tim agreed; at least here at home they could escape from her.

Dori went into the den, called her father and explained that her grandmother had misunderstood what she'd said, and suspected that she'd be making trouble.

"Don't worry, Baby. I'll keep Gramma in line."

Dori giggled. No one was allowed to call Doris Gramma. It was Grandmother only.

As Buzz drove around the hill and the ranch came into view below, he felt more uneasiness about what Doris' reactions to Neal would be. 'However she reacts,' he told himself, 'will have no bearing on our lives. Surely, between me and Bill, we can keep her in line for three days.'

Doris was warm and cordial in greeting her son-in-law; she knew how to put her men off guard. She would ignore any mention of Neal, and certainly not bring him up in any conversation herself. Of course, Buzz wasn't fooled by her effusive behavior; he was polite to her while being reserved.

After Buzz changed into casual clothes and relaxed a bit, the twins started clamoring to go get a tree before all the 'good ones' were gone from the tree lot in town. Buzz was in no particular hurry; he'd reserved a beauty three weeks back at a local tree farm. It wouldn't be cut until they arrived to pick it up, so it would still be as fresh as possible.

"Don't you want to wait for Neal and Uncle Will?" He asked them.

"Uncle Will won't be here until long after dark," Dori protested.

"And if we go now we can still catch Neal in town." Tim added.

"Alright, let's go," Buzz said. "Bill, you want to join us?"

Bill agreed to go, figuring that if Doris was here by herself, she couldn't make any trouble. Aware that she was excluded, Doris was more determined than ever to find out just how this 'tutor' fit in. Feigning fatigue, she said, "I'm going to lie down and take a nap while you're gone. The trip up here has exhausted me."

As soon as the two men and the twins had piled into the Land Rover and driven away, she went on the prowl. She went first to Neal's study. This room had been Claire's. Doris resented the changes to the room. She'd spent many hours visiting with her daughter in this room. Now there was no trace of Claire.

The first thing she did was check the sofa that Neal had exchanged for the bed to see if it was a hideaway. She snorted when she lifted the loose cushion and saw the supporting wooden frame. She casually went through the books and papers on Neal's desk, then rifled through his desk drawers. She found nothing to really confirm her suspicions. She wandered into his closet and looked through his hanging clothes, then into his chest of drawers. The top drawer had some interesting photos of Neal and Buzz's family. In a couple of them Buzz had his arm around Neal's shoulders. Still that wasn't conclusive enough.

In the bathroom, which she had always considered austere and tasteless, everything was neatly separated between the two free-standing sinks. There was nothing to draw her interest.

She stepped into the master bedroom. The drastic changes that Buzz had made shocked her. The room was now totally masculine. The color of the walls had been changed from pale azure to a soft warm ochre. The high backed club chairs by the fireplace, once covered in pastel floral chintz were now covered in soft brown leather. The delicately elegant French provincial furniture had all been replaced with sturdy clean lined Art Deco. The four poster bed with its flounces, bolsters, and many little pillows had been replaced with a huge low, sleek, king size bed, also covered with brown leather. She slithered around the room, noting that all of her daughter's feminine touches were gone. This was totally a man's room.

Doris stood in the middle of the room and studied it. "Ah hah!" She said aloud when she found the damning evidence that she'd been searching for. It was two gold framed photographs sitting side by side on the dresser. One was of Neal in a swan dive - gracefully arched body with legs straight, toes pointed, and his arms straight out from his sides. She leaned close to read the inscription. "Love ya more each day, Neal." There was a first place trophy for diving sitting next to the photo.

The other photo was one of Buzz sitting on a horse in his work clothes - boots, Levi's, Chambray work shirt, and an old sweat-stained hat on the back of his head. She read the inscription on it. "To my little satyr, Love, Buzz."

"Satyr indeed," she muttered. "More like Satan."

She bustled out of the room. She had found what she was looking for ... confirmation. Now she could be as self-righteous as she desired - but she'd be casual about it until she had her victim in her grasp. Picking up a magazine in the living room, she strolled through the kitchen, ignoring Maria, who suspiciously watched her, went out to the patio, and reclined on a chaise… waiting.

Billy returned home to discover his grandmother reading a magazine out on the patio. He greeted Maria and grabbed a cold soda out of the fridge.

"Your grandmother is outside," she said, motioning with her chin towards the patio.

"I know, guess I should go out and say 'hi' to her."

"She is your granmama, Billy."

He could see no way out of it without being rude. He sighed, and went out to dutifully give her a peck on her cheek.

"Billy, sit down a moment. Talk with me," Doris said.

He disliked his grandmother intensely, and tried to stay away from her. He was aware that she was partly responsible for his dad's antipathy toward him. He'd overheard her making a snide remark about how he had no family resemblance. Another time he'd heard her comment to Buzz that his oldest son reminded her of someone his wife once was friends with. Billy hated her for it. Even though he wouldn't admit it, the one thing he wanted was his dad's love. He sat on the edge of the chair ready to bolt if she got too demanding.

"How do you like your tutor?" She asked… his mind screamed 'quicksand'.

"He's okay, I guess."

"Does your dad like him?"

"I suppose he does."

"He's sleeping with your father, isn't he?"

He knew that no matter how he answered he was in trouble. The question angered him. "I don't know. Why are you asking me? I don't have anything to do with it."

"Doesn't it upset you?"

"Why should it upset me?" His voice was rising in tenor and getting louder. "He's not sleeping in my bed."

"It obviously does upset you." Doris' voice was low and smoothing. "It really makes you angry, doesn't it, Billy?"

Billy felt like he was confronting a rattlesnake that was coiled and ready to strike.

"Leave me alone. You're only making trouble." He bolted, ran around the house, leaped into his car, and sped up the road back toward town.

Doris smiled to herself.

Neal had given a fellow student a ride home. It was east of San Leandro Road. When he doubled back at the edge of town and turned on to San Leandro, he just missed Buzz in the Land Rover. He passed Billy on the ranch road just after crossing the cattle guard. He waved, and Billy threw him 'the finger'. Neal shrugged and figured this must be one of Billy's hostile days. He parked his pickup next to the Lincoln Town Car and sprinted into the house. Dropping his books on a sofa, he headed toward the patio via the kitchen.

"Hi, Maria, Como esta mi senorita hoy?" He asked.

"Oh, I am good. But I think trouble is coming. La Senora Bowden was snooping in the big bedroom. Era mala, Neal. Cuidado, por favor. Please, be careful."

Neal glanced out at the patio and saw the lone woman lying on a chaise across the patio casually flipping through a magazine. He walked over to Maria who was at the kitchen sink and quietly asked, "Where is everyone?"

"They went to get the tree. They thought to see you in town. They will come back soon."

Neal walked back to the kitchen door. Doris apparently had dozed off. The magazine lay closed in her lap. He thought about what Buzz had told him about her - how much she'd changed, and had warned him to be wary of her. He went back into the living room, gathered up his books, and went into his study. He set the stack of books on the corner of the desk and moved to where he could study her. There was something about her that made his skin crawl. Timmy, too, had told him how mean his grandmother was. She raised her head and looked around. The movement reminded him of a snake checking the air for a possible victim to make its next meal. He felt vulnerable. He shook off the feeling and figured he might as well go meet the ol' bitch. Surely, she couldn't be that bad. He opened the French doors and stepped out.

Doris was only feigning sleep. She watched him through half lidded eyes as he walked past the pool to the vine covered patio. He felt like an insect being tracked by a lizard. He walked up to her side.

"Hello, you must be the young ones' grandmother. I'm Neal Martin," he said.

She sat up and held out her hand smiling at him. He noted that her smile didn't reach her eyes which were cold and calculating. An image of a spider came unbidden, extending an articulated limb to grab hold of him, so she could inject paralyzing venom into his body.

She took no notice of his hesitancy to take her hand. "Doris Bowden," she said.

"I've heard so much about you."

"I can imagine. But I've heard very little of you, except that you've done a wonderful job of bringing my grandchildren out of their funk."

"It's been a real pleasure working with them. They are really brilliant kids, even Billy… when he wants to be." He pulled a chair away from a table, turning it to face her, and sat down

"I am forever indebted to you, Mr. Martin," she said, spinning her web. The idea was to get her victim to relax before she attacked.

"Nonsense, Ma'am, I'm being well paid."

"I'm sure you are. My son-in-law is a most generous man."

"Yes, he is, Ma'am."

"Tell me, Mr. Martin…" She started to say.

He interrupted her. "Please, call me Neal."

She ignored the interruption and started again.

"Tell me, Mr. Martin. Was it easy to worm your way into Buzz's bed? I think a pretty little gutter snipe like you would have very little trouble seducing anyone. And Buzz would be quite vulnerable, having just lost his wife."

Neal blushed a dark red. "You are as vile as I've been led to believe. I didn't worm my way into anybody's bed."

Doris smiled at him - actually, it was more of a sneer. "There's no bed in your room. Where do you sleep, Mr. Martin?" She asked, wanting to see him struggle.

"Where I sleep, Mrs. Bowden, is no concern of yours." He wondered why he didn't just stand up and walk away from her.

"You are wrong," she hissed. "My grandchildren are being exposed to your wanton, immoral behavior." She rose from the chaise, waxing poetic. "I think, Mr. Martin, that you are no more than a gold digging queer, a hustling Hollywood whore. If you have a shred of decency," she said in a quiet conversational tone, "you will leave this house immediately." Then she screamed into his face. "You filthy faggot."

He sputtered wordlessly, then stood, spun on his heels, and fled.

Doris smiled to herself. She listened to his pickup start up and then fade away. She dusted off her hands and walked into the kitchen. Maria was standing at the sink peeling potatoes. She had listened to the whole conversation.

"Maria, I'm going to lie down. That nasty man has totally upset me. Fix me a glass of iced tea and bring it to my room."

"You are a mean, hateful bruja, Doris Bowden. I am not your servant… I will not wait on you. And stay out of my kitchen - your presence will infect it." She laid the peeler on the counter and advanced on Doris while drying her hands.

"Well!! Buzz shall certainly hear about this," Doris said in a huff.

"He certainly will hear about everything you have said. You are an evil person." Maria was shorter than Doris, but she was angry and righteously indignant, which made her even more menacing as she picked up a big metal spoon and shook it at her. "It is you who should have left this house."

Doris was totally taken off guard. "Well… I never," was all she could think to say before fleeing to her room.

As Buzz drove the return trip with a large tree tied on top of the Land Rover, he saw Neal's pickup approaching. He stopped and waved his arm out the window for Neal to stop. He didn't; he flew by at sixty miles an hour and didn't even look toward Buzz as he passed.

"Wow! That was Neal." Tim exclaimed. "I wonder who lit a match under his tail."

"Oh, my God, I'll bet he had a run in with Doris." Buzz said, looking at Bill. He put the vehicle in gear and stepped on the gas.

Maria heard Buzz pull into the drive and bustled out to meet him.

"What happened to Neal? He didn't even slow down as he passed us."

Bill was right behind him. Maria looked at Bill. "Perdoname, Bill. Forgive me." She turned to Buzz. "That Doris is crazy. She called Neal nasty names and told him to get out."

"What did she call him that would make him leave like that?"

"She told him he was immoral. She called him a queer and a gold digging Hollywood hustler. She screamed in his face that he was a filthy faggot. Neal didn't say anything. He just jumped into his pickup and drove away. I told her she was an evil witch." Bill blanched, hearing what his wife had said. Buzz was ready to physically attack Doris and throw her bodily out of his house.

Will, Claire's brother, pulled into the drive at that moment. Attention turned to him. He greeted his dad with a warm hug, then hugged Buzz just as warmly. The twins were eager to greet their only uncle. He wrapped an arm around each and kissed them on their cheeks. Timmy grinned and blushed

Turning back to Buzz and his dad, he said, "You damn sure have some crazy drivers up here. Just as I was coming out of town, a kid in an old red pickup almost ran head-on into me."

"That was Neal. I'll call the sheriff. Maybe they can stop him before he kills himself driving like that."

"Or someone else," Will dryly added.

"I'm going to talk to Doris - see if I can find out what set her off on that young man," Bill said, heading into the house on Buzz's heels.

Will was confused. "What's going on? Who's Neal?" He asked to their backs.

"Neal is our tutor, Uncle Will," Tim explained, then he repeated what Maria had just told them. Will sat down on the low wall that surrounded the lawn.

"Well, it's starting off to be an exciting Christmas, isn't it?" He exclaimed to no one in particular. He'd hoped that getting his mother away from home for the holiday would suppress her, but it looked like that was not to be the case.

Buzz came back out of the house. He had just called George and asked him to have his patrolling deputies keep an eye out for Neal. "Will, come with me. Let's see if we can find him," he said, heading for the Land Rover. When Tim and Dori started to follow them, Buzz said, "Stay here, but stay away from your gramma."

Buzz drove in silence for several minutes. Finally, Will broke the quiet. "Tell me about Neal," he said.

Buzz looked at him, then turned his eyes back to the road. After a moment's consideration, he looked back at him. "Neal is dearer than life to me. If he has come to harm, I may kill Doris with my own two hands." He stared at the road again.

Will was quiet as he thought about what Buzz had just said. He decided to come out to him, too.

"My mother scares me witless. I've had a lover for eight years, and my parents still don't know about us. I believe my father would accept us, but I can't subject Ron to her. No one deserves that."

Buzz thought about that admission for a moment. "I would never have suspected, Will. You'll have to bring him up sometime."

"I'd love to. If I hadn't already known your history, I would never have suspected you either.'

"What do you mean 'my history'?"

"Several years ago, I met a fellow that as soon as he discovered I was Claire Bowden's brother couldn't wait to tell me about having an affair with you in college." Will said.

Buzz grimaced. He didn't like to think about that little fiasco. He hadn't even considered it worthy of mentioning to Neal. It had lasted all of two days. Buzz hadn't realized that Carl was queer until after a big football game when he'd propositioned Buzz. Buzz had just been another notch on his bedpost, and it had left Buzz a bit bitter about it.

"So, you met Carl. I wonder what I ever saw in him. It must have been just lust... he did have a fine body."

"Well, you wouldn't know him now; he's a fat unkempt pig. He likes to brag about what a big football star he was."

"Hmmm. He was that," Buzz admitted.

Doris lay on the bed with an arm across her forehead, her eyes closed. When she heard her husband enter the room, she let out a gusty sigh.

"Enough theatrics, Doris. What in Hell's name have you done now?"

She opened her eyes feigning hurt. "You would take his side, wouldn't you? Have you no backbone to stand up for what's right."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That nasty little tutor, Bill. He's sleeping with Buzz. I'm sure it's for money. Did you see what he drives? Why, I'm sure he hasn't a cent to his name."

"Well, you're totally wrong on two counts and right on the other." Buzz had told Bill all about Neal and his commitment to him while they were driving into town for the tree. He'd always had a warm, friendly relationship with his father-in-law and knew him to be accepting of everyone.

"What are you saying?"

"You're right in that he sleeps with Buzz. Buzz had a hell of a time convincing him that's where he belongs. And even though he does drive an ol' pickup, he could buy you twice over. What do you have to say to that?" Bill saw no reason to give his wife any fuel about where Neal came into wealth.

"Are you telling me that my son-in-law dragged that little gutter snipe into his bed?"

"You're so good with words, Doris."

"Oh, m'God, my dear daughter married a faggot and died not even knowing it. How utterly awful," Doris wailed.

"Cut the theatrics, Doris, Claire knew that Buzz liked men. She married him anyway. And he stayed true to her, even after her death, until four months ago when he found Neal."

"I can't believe that. I refuse to believe that Claire would knowingly marry a homosexual. It's a known fact that they are the most promiscuous slime on earth. I won't believe that Buzz is one either. Just look at him. He's one of the most masculine men I've ever met. It's just a momentary weakness, that's all. But now that the little creep is gone, Buzz will come to his senses and find himself a nice new wife."

Bill stared out the window as she ranted. When she wound down, he looked at her with contempt. "Doris, to put it rather crudely, you are full of shit. You've become a bitter, bigoted, old bitch. If you have any decency left, you'll keep your nasty twisted thoughts to yourself." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Buzz and Will drove around town looking for Neal's pickup. They cruised around the university grounds, which looked abandoned. Buzz knew that Betsy had gone home for Christmas, but they drove by her apartment anyway. They passed by the café. A sign on the door said it would be closed until Dec. 27 ^th. Neal was nowhere to be found. Finally, Buzz pulled into the sheriff's station. They went inside where they were greeted by a young deputy. "Mr. Ogden. The sheriff has been trying to contact you."

* * *

An hour earlier a deputy on patrol had called in to tell the sheriff he'd spotted the red dodge pickup. It was on the riverbank just west of the 101. George had gone to the location immediately… expecting the worst, but praying for something not so bad. He drove up beside the pickup, got out, and examined it.

Even though it was nosed up to a tree, it hadn't hit it. The driver's door was hanging open, but Neal was nowhere in sight. George wasn't a tracker, but he didn't need to be. Neal had left a trail of discarded clothes as he had aimlessly wandered down the riverbank. George picked up each article of clothing as he followed the trail through the bushes along the riverbank. The last piece of clothing he picked up was a pair of white BVDs. Without thinking, he unconsciously held them to his nose and breathed in Neal's scent. Realizing what he'd done, he blushed, thankful no one was around to see him do it.

He rounded a big thicket of brush and saw the young man sitting cross-legged on a patch of grass, naked as the day he was born. He had a bottle of whiskey propped in the crook of one knee. His hands rested in his lap; his chin on his chest. "Damn… he's beautiful. No wonder Buzz is so possessed with him," George muttered as he studied him. He had never seen anything like this young man before him. He was like a storybook creature with the hair on his head running all the way down his spine and into his butt crack. George tried to think of the name of the mythical creature he resembled, but gave up. He walked over and sat down beside him. Neal looked over at him. His face was streaked with tears.

"Hi, George, you gonna arres' this sorry, drunkin', naked faggot?"

"I'm going to take you home, Neal. And you're not a faggot."

"Dor's Bowden said I am."

"Well, I don't know Mrs. Bowden, but she's wrong. Buzz is very worried about you."

"I love Buzz."

"Don't you want to go see him? Let me take you home."

"Noooo, I can't go back there. There's a mean ol' nasty bitchwitch there. She said I was sleeping with Buzz just to get his money." Neal looked up at George though his tears. "I didn't want his money, George. I only wanted Buzz. But I let him an' Betsy talk me in to asseptin' the money, and now I can't go back." Neal took a pull on the bottle of cheap whiskey, choked, and had a coughing fit. "This is awful shit," he said, holding the bottle up for examination.

George grasped it, attempting to remove it from Neal's grip. "Let me have the bottle, Neal."

"George, I hafta drink it all, so I can forgit 'bout Buzz," Neal explained, trying to hold onto it. George pried the bottle from his hand, looked to see how much he'd consumed, then poured the remaining contents out on the ground. It was a little less than half full... Neal was going to have one hell of a hangover. George was amazed he hadn't passed out already. Buzz had told him that Neal didn't touch liquor at all.

"George, I needed that," Neal whined.

"Come on, baby, let's get you home to daddy."

Neal bristled. "Buzz isn't my daddy. And my mom is the only one who can call me baby."

"I'm sorry. Come on, put your clothes on." He held out the BVDs.

Neal took them. Holding them very carefully with both hands, he rocked back on his butt and lifted both feet. Tangling them in the material, he fell sideways. George couldn't help but laugh. Neal started laughing, too. He sat up and took the waistband in one hand, threw the BVDs out as though he were trying to lasso his foot and rolled sideways again - this time into George. That was even more hysterical. George eventually gained control of his mirth, took the garment, knelt in front of Neal and helped him put his feet into the proper holes, then as he helped Neal stand, the drunken young man stopped giggling and looked George in the face. "You're a nice man, George. Not many men would help a drunken queer put his clothes on."

"Shut up and stick your foot in this pant leg." He used the gruffness to cover his emotions.

"I can do that and still talk. I'm ambi… ambi… somethin'. Anyway, I can do two things at one time." He managed to get both feet in one leg of the Levi's and landed on his butt. George patiently pulled the wrong foot out and stuck it in the other pants leg, then stood him up again. As he helped Neal put on his shirt, he couldn't resist running his hand down the column of hair on his back. "So beautiful," he murmured.

"Thank youfor being nice to this Hollywood hustler, George. You know… I've never been to Hollywood. Do they have lots of hustlers like me in Hollywood?"

"Neal, stop talking shit. Damn, that woman really laid it on you thick, didn't she?" He tucked in Neal's shirt tails, then said, "Stand still and let me button up your pants."

"I sure hope no one sees you doing this, George, 'cause they would have dirty ideas about what you're doing."

"Christ's sake, Neal, your mouth is running a mile a minute. Here put your foot in this shoe." Holding on to George's shoulders as he knelt, Neal managed to do it without falling over. "Now... the other one." George rolled the socks and stuck them in Neal's back pocket. "Okay, come on, let's go find Buzz."

"George, I told you. I can't see Buzz anymore. I'm immoral, and I'm bad for his kids. I already told you I don't want his money. Why can't I just have Buzz with no money, George? And… and then maybe I wouldn't be bad and immoral. It must be the money, cause I wasn't that way before. Loving someone isn't bad… so, it has to be the money." Neal started weeping.

George wrapped the little guy in his arms and hugged him to his chest. "It's going to be okay, Neal. Don't cry, babe."

"But don't you see, George, I can't have Buzz, 'cause he's rich and I'm not. I have to graduate and get a good job and make lots of money of my own, then I can have him, and no one can say I can't. Then... when I'm rich, too… I'll show that mean ol' bitch. Huh, George?"

He handed Neal his jacket without replying. As they walked, Neal struggled to get his arm in a sleeve and tumbled sideways into a bush.

"You're very ambi ambi," George laughed as he helped him back to his feet and held the jacket, so he could get his arms in the correct sleeves. He then walked behind Neal, holding onto his upper arms to keep him from keeling over into another bush.

He opened the door to the patrol car and helped Neal get in, then reached across him and fastened the safety belt. Neal laid his head back and started lightly snoring.

"Thank God." George said under his breath. "Now, if I can just get him to the station before he starts puking in my car."