Frank

The following Friday evening after our return from Shelter Cove, we went out to dinner with Rafe, Tommy, Rich and Dad. We all had a jovial time, and after dinner Rafe suggested that we continue our evening by stopping at a bar.

Dad declined saying he wasn't into that kind of scene. Rafe cajoled him in an attempt to get him to join us.

"Rafe," Dad said, "there's something you've got to understand. I really enjoy being with my son and you fellows. You're all a fine bunch of men. But the gay bar scene isn't something I'm comfortable with. I'm happy that Frank has you as his friends. So, go enjoy the bar and I'll just head on out. And thanks for a very pleasant evening."

When we stood up to leave, Dad showed no hesitancy in hugging each of us right there in the restaurant. Rich just stood back, smiled and said nothing, then hugged us each and said, "Good night."

We stood on the sidewalk and watched them get into Dad's pickup and drive off. It was Tommy who asked the question that was on all our minds. "So are they or aren't they?"

John shrugged and looked at me.

"Does it matter?" I asked.

They all shrugged, and we strolled up the street to the bar.

John

Other than the oblique conversation that Dad and Farr had that Sunday when we had brunch with him and Rich, there has been no reference to the relationship between them. They show no more affection toward each other than two straight buddies would show.

We left the answer to our quandary for another day. I managed to grab a barstool, and the three of us gathered around Farr who perched on it as we enjoyed the camaraderie.

The bar filled to capacity and soon was overflowing onto the side walk. It was the usual Saturday night rush. Farr excused himself and headed off to relieve himself. Although, I tried not to be over protective anymore, I was still very conscious of what went on around him, especially when we were in a crowd like this. This particular bar is known for some wild things going on in the toilets on occasion. When Farr didn't return right away I started getting antsy. Tommy must have picked up on my feelings for he slid off his barstool and headed for the toilet. A moment later I heard him yell my name.

I barged through the crowd and joined Tommy in pushing on the door. When it was obvious that whoever was on the other side wasn't going to let us in, I stepped back and hit it on the run.

The guy blocking the door went flying directly across the room and crashed head first against the wall and lay there groaning. I looked around for my little fellow and started to panic when I didn't see him. There was a scuffling noise in the one of the stalls.

"Farr," I yelled out.

There was a muffled grunt from behind the closed door. Rafe and I simultaneously grabbed the top of the door and tore it off its hinges. A man almost as large as I am had Farr pressed face down across the commode and was attempting to pull his pants down. Rafe beat me into the stall. He grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and yanked him backwards. Tommy stepped in and punched him in his belly and then landed an uppercut to his jaw.

I lunged in and scooped up my little lover. He immediately struggled to get loose and I let him go. He obviously wasn't hurt, but he was definitely enraged. He pushed Tommy and Rafe out of the way, kicked his attacker in the ribs and yelled, "Get up, you fuckin' son of bitch."

Farr pointed at me, "You don't let anyone in here until I'm through with this God damned bastard." He then turned to Rafe and Tommy and pointed at the one that had been holding the door closed. "If that shit head moves kick him in the balls."

Farr turned back to the man that was struggling to his feet. With a loud yell, he leaped into the air and kicked the man in his ribs knocking him backwards. He fell to his knees.

"Sneak up on me again, you ass hole and I'll kill you." He leaped and screamed out again, kicking the man in the side of his head with his heel. The man toppled over with a hard grunt.

I grabbed Farr around his waist and lifted him off his feet. "That's enough, Farr."

He collapsed in my arms, the fight gone out of him. After calming down a bit, he raised his head and looked at the man bleeding from a scalp wound. "Jesus," he whispered, "what did I just do?"

There was a loud banging on the door, and a loud deep baritone voice commanded, "Open this damned door, right now."

"Shall I let them in?" Tommy asked.

"Let them in," I said as I knelt and wrapped my arms protectively around Farr.

The bar owner and the bouncer burst through the door when Tommy stepped away from it. "Shit, I should have known it," the owner muttered when he saw the man Farr had kicked, groaning and trying to sit up. He didn't ask any questions. He pointed at the other man and said to the bouncer, "Haul his ass up and prop him against the wall. Throw a bucket of ice water on the lily livered shit." He glanced at the still closed door on the other toilet and asked, "Who's in there?"

The bouncer banged on the door and ordered the man to come out. From the glances between Farr's attacker and the man who came out of the other toilet, it was clear that they were in cahoots. Farr was ready to attack the man.

"He had his pants down, trying to pull my head through the glory hole," he said pointing at the man. Rafe sucker punched him before the bar owner could respond. He grimaced at Rafe then instructed the bouncer to haul the man out with the other on.

The owner looked Farr's attacker over, then looked at each of us. "Who has the skinned knuckles?"

"I kicked him," Farr admitted.

"Good for you, buddy."

At that moment, two police officers walked in. The restroom was getting crowded. The owner informed the cops that the man's name was Robertson and that twice before the man had attacked Farr. He went on to tell them that Farr had even gotten a court order for the man to stay away from him. Farr just stood looking from the man to the police, surprised that the man knew all about his history with the ass hole.

Once the police had taken the men away, we said good night to Rafe and Tommy. Farr lost his cool again as soon as we were in my pickup. "Where in hell does he come off thinking that just because he's so much bigger than me that I should give in to him? I swear, if he comes near me again, I'll leave him wishing he was dead."

"So this bastard has attacked you before?"

"Well, technically this is the first time he's gotten physically abusive."

"Between your retaliation and being arrested, I suspect he'll leave you alone now." I pulled him over against me. "Calm down, Babe, it won't happen again," I said trying to sooth him. He stopped ranting, but I could tell it would be awhile before he stopped seething. I figured the best thing to do was get him home and distract him with some good love making.

Farr

I know that if John, Rafe and Tommy hadn't shown up in that toilet when they did, I would have gotten it. The bastard caught me by surprise. I just wasn't expecting to be attacked while taking a piss. It won't happen again, 'cause I'll kill the bastard next time.

John is so good. He got me home and into a hot shower where he showed me what loving is all about.

John

Farr filed a complaint with the police. Robertson was charged with attempted rape, and his cohorts were charged as accomplices. I thought that would be the end of it. How wrong I was.

Robertson and his cohorts were released on bail with a warning from the D.A. to stay away from Farr. The man had to be deranged. It was hardly six months later that we allowed Tommy and Rafe to talk us into going back to the bar again… hair of the dog, or if the horse pitches you off get right back on… that kind of bull shit logic. Farr's one of those men you don't challenge if you're not serious.

We hadn't been in the bar half an hour before Farr needed to piss. I was ready to get off my stool and accompany him, but he insisted that it was nonsense.

I still haven't figured out how Robertson and his two new accomplices got into the restroom, much less the bar, without being seen.

Farr

I never suspected a thing out of the ordinary when I stepped through the restroom door. Walking across the room to the trough urinal, I noticed that both stalls were occupied. That wasn't unusual since there's a glory hole in the separating wall big enough to stick one's upper head through. I unbuttoned my pants and pulled it out, then relaxed to the sound of the stream hitting the metal trough.

The sound of a squeaky hinge didn't startle me, but a boot sole hitting me between my shoulder blades sent me crashing into the tile back splash head first. My vision turned red then black, as I felt myself losing consciousness.

John

When Farr didn't return after about three minutes I started getting antsy. Rafe noticed and patted me on the back saying, "Don't go into your mothering mode. You know Farr can take care of himself."

"Yeah, yeah, I just can't help it."

A couple of minutes later, Tommy quietly slid off his stool and headed for the toilet. As Rafe continued talking, I nervously watched the crowd looking for my little guy.

Then I heard my name yelled above the din. It was déjà vu all over again. My nerveless fingers dropped my beer as I kick the barstool away and forcefully plowed through the crowd of men toward the back of the room with Rafe on my heels.

I yelled, "Move away."

On the run, I hit the door with my shoulder and plunged into the room, knocking down the man who had been holding the door closed. He skidded across the room on his back where he hit the tile wall, head first, and lay in an unmoving heap. Farr wasn't to be seen, but the two stall doors were closed. Not hesitating I hit the one closest to the urinal with the butt of my hand and it didn't budge. I knew there were no locks on the doors, so I forced it with my shoulder, knocking the body holding it closed out of the way.

The big man's naked butt kissed the air as he sprawled over another smaller body lying across the toilet. I grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him out of the stall. He sprawled on the concrete floor and growled like an angry bear as he scrambled to get his feet under him, but with his pants down around his ankles, he wasn't having a lot a success.

When I saw Farr lying across the toilet with his head stuck through the glory hole, I bellowed and kicked the man in his face knocking him backwards. I rushed into the stall and gently lifted Farr into my arms. He had his wrists trussed to his ankles with the same kind of plastic cinch straps that the police use to subdue a suspect. His forehead had a big red and purple bruise and his butt was bleeding. I bellowed, "Call an EMT. Get the cops in here. NOW." Farr's hair was dripping wet. The ass hole had apparently stuck his head in the toilet to revive him before raping him.

Rafe had barged into the other stall and had subdued the other man who also had his pants around his ankles. The man was out cold sprawled across the stool. He'd actually had an orgasm as Rafe had hit him. There was a puddle of semen on his stomach.

Tommy pulled out a small pen knife and cut the straps binding Farr's arms to his legs. Farr's wrists were bloody. I stood there holding him with tears rolling down my face as he pushed his face into my chest and whimpered.

Tommy

Rafe was as nearly upset as John. All three men had regained consciousness. When the man John had pulled off Farr started trying to pull up his pants, Rafe kicked him in the ribs and ordered him to lie still. The man in the other stall sat up and Rafe told him if he moved again before the police got there, he'd put his lights out again. The man froze.

The next half hour was mayhem. The owner of the bar ordered everyone out of the bar. Four policemen barged in through the exiting crowd with the EMTs right behind them carrying a stretcher. They had to forcefully take Farr from John.

The cop in charge had a cool head. I suppose it wasn't difficult to see what had occurred with two men with their pants down around their shoes, one with blood on his penis, the other with semen on his stomach; Farr with bloody wrists, a bloody butt and swollen puffy lips. I suppose I have a twisted sense of humor, but I found it funny that 'Bloody Dick' was trying to convince the cop that John had attacked him without provocation. He could hardly talk because his nose had been flattened against his face and his jaw had been shattered by John's kick. Although 'Semen Sam' was acting properly embarrassed, he too was protesting his innocence. The door holder just sat against the wall holding his head while another cop interrogated him.

The lead cop made sure that a blood sample was taken from ' Bloody Dick's penis and a saliva sample from 'Semen Sam's, as well as specimens from poor little Farr's rear end and mouth.

Rafe

John and I had both seen duty in the near east. Both of us, luckily, were physically unscathed by the experience. We'd had buddies wounded or killed, yet I'd never seen John shed a tear before. That night - in that bar toilet - I didn't think his tears would ever stop. They flowed unchecked down his cheeks to drip off his chin. The front of his shirt was soaked with them.

The EMTs had to forcefully take Farr from his arms. I thought John would collapse once he let go of him. I put an arm around his waist to keep him on his feet as he helplessly stood there watching them care for his little lover. The police graciously let him accompany Farr in the ambulance.

Tommy and I stayed and filled them in on what had occurred. While Tommy was being grilled, I phoned Rich to tell Farr's dad and him what had happened. They said they were headed to the hospital as quickly as they could get there.

John

This is San Francisco for Christ's sake, yet they wouldn't let me into the examination room with Farr. It was a little grandmotherly nurse who insisted that I sit down and let them do their job. Who can argue with a grandmother? I knew that Farr wasn't seriously injured, but the mental trauma of being raped is sometimes more damaging than the physical abuse. I wanted to be with my little man to assure him that everything was going to be okay.

I sat in the hallway outside of the room they had Farr in, with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands staring at the linoleum tile in front of my boots. A comforting hand rested on my back as I mentally registered that there were a pair of boots on each side of mine. I sat back and looked up at Dad, and then at Rich.

"Are you doing okay, John," Dad asked.

I broke down again and could only nod and motion at the still closed door.

"How is he doing?"

"I don't know.... they won't let me in with him."

Dad walked over to the door and lightly knocked. I heard him say, "I'm Patrick Bailey. I understand my son is in here."

The door opened wider and Dad stepped through, the door once more closed. I sighed in frustration, and looked at Rich who sat down and put an arm around my back.

"He's going to be okay, Big Guy."

A policeman walked up at that moment with a clipboard in his hand. "Mr. Reed?"

I nodded at him.

"I'm Officer Johnson. I need you to answer some questions, Sir."

I appreciated his politeness. So many public servants, be they waiters or policemen, seem to think that it's correct to use one's first name without being invited to. I suppose being raised in Texas, I use 'Sir' to address every man no matter his age. It has absolutely nothing to do with subservience; it's simply polite manners.

"Certainly, Officer Johnson." I looked around. "You want to do it here or..."

"If you would, Sir, just down the hall there is a special room that's set aside for this kind of thing - to give you some privacy."

"Fine." I stood and glanced down at Rich who patted me on the butt and said. "I'll come tell you if anything happens."

I followed the officer down the hall into a small room containing a table and a couple of chairs. I glanced back at Rich, who held up his clinched fist and mouthed, "Hang in there," then I entered the room.

"What I'd like you do, Mr. Reed, is tell me what transpired at the bar. Try to keep it all in sequence, and don't leave anything out." He set a small pocket size recorder on the table between us and switched it on.

I told the whole story as I remembered it. The officer made notes on his pad as I talked. When I finished, he turned off the recorder, studied his notes a moment and then asked. "Was the man that you yanked out of the stall threatening you when you kicked him?"

For a moment, I appraised the man sitting across from me with the gold wedding band on his finger, then asked, "Officer, have you stopped to consider what your reaction would be if you caught a man in the act of raping your wife? Don't you think that the man I kicked in the face is lucky I didn't kill him for what he was doing to my mate? Farr is as much my husband as the woman you are married to is your wife."

His eyes widened as he studied me a moment before he said, "I apologize, and retract that question, Sir. I feel just as strongly about my man." He closed his notes and stuck the little recording device into a shirt pocket while he said, "I will have this recording transcribed. If you would, at your convenience on Monday, stop into the station and sign it; we'll turn it over to the D.A. and let him start the prosecution."

Rafe and Tommy were sitting with Rich when I returned. Officer Johnson patted me on my shoulder as he walked past me and headed out the door.

It was only moments later that the door across from us opened and Farr emerged with his dad's hand on his shoulder. I immediately dropped to my knees and held out my arms to my little man. He turned away from me, laying his face against his dad's side like a shy child. Rich was sitting close to where Farr and his dad had stopped. He reached out and squeezed Farr's arm and asked, "Are you going to be alright, Buddy?"

When Farr raised his head, I saw that his eyes were glassy and lifeless. It broke my heart. I looked up at Dad Bailey who grimly smiled at me and shook his head. "I'm going to take him home with me until he's ready to continue his life," he said. I didn't know what he meant, but at that point, I didn't feel my life was worth much without Farr in it, and I didn't have any fight left in me. Rich gave me a sympathetic hug and told me to be patient, then he turned and followed Dad as he guided Farr towards the exit doors.

I must have looked like I was going to collapse, because Rafe and Tommy were instantly on each side of me with an arm around me.

"You know he loves you, John. You're just going to have to wait for him to come around."

"I don't understand. Why would he turn away from me?"

Neither man had an answer.