first rays of light crept across his body. Howard lay with Ronnie's head upon his chest, running his fingers through Ronnie's blond hair. He lay this way for almost an hour, then Ronnie rolled from his chest.

Howard got up and lit a cigarette. Standing by the window, he watched the relentless surf pound upon the shore. He looked back at Ronnie. He was sprawled across the bed, sleeping with a countenance of complete peace. His bronzed body glistened as the early morning light skimmed across his fine network of blond hair. His lips pouting every now and then gave testimony to some dream.

Howard was on his second cigarette when Ronnie's blue eyes sleepily focused upon him.

Remembering the evening before, the corners of his lips curled into a smile. He watched Howard standing at the window with the ecstatic feeling of a King looking over his most prized possession. Howard was his possession. He felt he owned every corpuscle flowing through his slender figure, every wavey hair on his head.

Howard looked around. He read in Ronnie's glance what he was thinking. His eyes smiled in agreement.

"Yes, this body is yours!" He confirmed. "Every inch?" Turning, he put out his cigarette. Howard sat beside him on the bed, and lightly caressed Ronnie's chest and shoulders. Then, bending over, he kissed the two lips glistening above the soft blond stubble of his beard.

The room was still dark. Small flames danced across a few logs in the fireplace, casting exotic shadows along the walls. They sat together on the couch; each enjoying the sanctuary of his own thoughts in each other's arms.

Ronnie lay with his head in Howard's lap looking into the fire, watching the dark wood turn red, then grow white as it rendered itself into ash and energy. A fierce, vibrating energy like that which he felt captive in the body beneath his head.

The surf played to them a vibrant love theme and they both lived for each moment together, relishing each second, storing it away in their memories like a cherished toy of their childhood, then eagerly moving on into their next moment together.

No words were needed to be spoken between them. Each knew what the other felt as soon as he himself was feeling each sensation, whether joy or sadness.

The next morning Howard said good-bye, knowing that once they reached the base he would not see Ronnie again until he returned, however long that would be.

They rode back in silence, holding on to their last moments together. Ronnie took his bag out of the car and closed the door. He grasped Howard's hand and held it, wishing never to let it go. Their eyes shared one last intimacy.

Three times a week, Ronnie received a letter. Howard wrote as though he were merely away on a vacation or away at college. He would always ask Ronnie what he was doing, and suggest ways to enjoy himself, places to go and things to see.

Ronnie hadn't realized how difficult it was to volunteer for combat duty. But, after many months, he was on board ship and on his way to Viet Nam.

Not until the night before he was to set sail, did he mention to Howard

15