Date: Fri, 30 Apr 2004 07:40:58 -0500 (EST) From: "Publishing@TomCup.com" Subject: Airport Voyeur Part 2 by Adam Bricker Chapter 2 - A/Y, AF Copyright 2000-2004 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ********************************************************************** What's New at TomCup.com Airport Voyeur Part 2 by Adam Bricker: Chapter 5 Added 04/30 * Jarrod's Journey by The Young Critics (Edited By Tom Cup): Added 04/29 * Dinosaur Bones by David Lemmaire: Added 04/29 * KOABoy by Tom Cup: Chapter 13 Added 04/17 My Symon by Rick Lawton: Chapter 7 Added 04/09 * The Nasty Boys Club by Tom Cup: Chapter 3 Added 04/04 * Calvin: Identity Crisis Part 2 by Tom Cup: Chapter 3 Added 03/27 The Innocents Part 4: Paulo and Beto by Richard Dean: Chapter 19 Added 03/15 Short Story: On the Way to Walmart by Tom Cup: Added 03/14* Airport Voyeur Part 2 by Adam Bricker Chapter 4: Added 03/09* Lion of Bolognia by Tom Cup: Queen of Hearts Chapter 1: Added 03/07* My Symon by Rick Lawton Chapter 6: Added 03/03* KOABoy By Tom Cup Chapter 12: Added 02/29 YardWork by Thorn Added 02/26* The Innocents Part 4: Paulo and Beto by Richard Dean: Chapter 18 Added 02/23 My Symon by Rick Lawton Chapter 5: Added 02/13* The Confederados by Richard Dean: Chapter 4 Added 2/08 *TomCup.com now offers an Executive Club membership! ** Tom Cup's "Of Our Teenage Years" is scheduled for publication and release in paperback in the Spring of 2004. Check it out at http://www.tomcup.com! ********************************************************************** The Paratwa Partnership, Inc. is a publication and marketing agency and is not responsible for the content of the Tom Cup Library, TomCup.com or its affiliate sites, or stories written by Mr. Cup or his associates. ********************************************************************** Airport Voyeur Part 2 By Adam P. Bricker AdamBrick@tomcup.com Chapter 2 - The Inside of a Cloud "Good morning, it's sunny and 51 degrees in Denver this morning, please enjoy you breakfast in our newly remodeled restaurant before you leave for the day." I placed the phone back on the cradle and rolled over and there in my bed was Marcus. He was facing me, and curled up close. One arm had been lying on my chest until the phone rang and now it was lying where I had been sleeping. I picked up his arm and slipped back under. I caressed his smooth shoulder, pulling my hand down his arm. At thirteen he still didn't have any hair on his arm, but you could see the very light down in the rays of the morning sun. They sort of radiated the sun on his skin. What was I going to do with this kid? I had an appointment all day and tomorrow I was leaving. How could I have picked up this kid last night and brought him up here? What was I going to do, tell him it was time to leave and say goodbye to him at the bench down stairs where I found him? I couldn't do that. No kid should have to live like that, and certainly not now that I knew him. I just couldn't. The saying is, "You can't put the genie back in the bottle once it's out." I couldn't send him back to the streets. Show him the sights of the big city, the pleasures of good living; and then send him back to picking through the trash -- no, not me! Somewhere in the next 48 hours I had to find a solution, or my heart would break with his. He lifted his arm and tucked in tighter to me. His face was pressed against my chest, right about where my nipple is, and his breath was getting my morning stiffy stiffer yet. My right arm was stroking his back; from the top of his soft shoulders all the way down to the new Calvin Klein white briefs I had bought him yesterday and then back up. The touch was so sensuous there were tingles running up and down my back. My boner was throbbing inside my shorts. This wasn't helping me think about what to do. I leaned over and kissed his forehead. I rumpled his hair and rolled out of his clutches. I sat up on my side of the bed. I guess I wasn't running this morning, since I'd just given my Nike's away, and I had some serious decisions to make today. But the first decision was what to do with Marcus for the day. If I left, what would he do? Needing time to make a decision, I picked up the phone and dialed room service. "Two breakfasts, please. Eggs over easy, crisp bacon, hash browns, two orange juices and one coffee. Please add four Danish, also. . . Yes, thirty minutes is fine, thank you." I placed the receiver back on the cradle. I leaned in to Marcus, and whispered in his ear. "I'm going to take a shower. I haven't left and breakfast will be here in half an hour, okay?" "Um, huh. Yeah. Thanks," he mumbled. He rolled onto his stomach, and pulled the pillow tighter into him. His hair was all mussed up from sleeping on it funny last night. I pulled the blanket and coverlet up around his shoulders and tucked them in. I held my hand on his back, just enjoying touching him through the covers. It was nice to have him here. I wish I wasn't going to the clients today. *** *** *** *** *** *** I came out of the bathroom after finishing my shower, still drying myself. I went through my morning after shower functions; deodorant, vitamins, etc. I was brushing my hair when the knock came at the door. I went over and let the waiter in. Signed the bill and placed the tray on the table. The waiter took the other tray away. I took covers off of the breakfast plates and didn't worry about the noise. I wanted Marcus to wake up. I still didn't hear anything, so I went back to the bedroom. His eyes were open, but he hadn't moved out of the covers yet. I lay down next to him, and asked, "Are you coming for breakfast, little prince?" "Yeah, it just felt soooo good in here. I've never slept in a bed like this. Thanks, Adam." "You're welcome, now come have breakfast." I started to stand up, and his hand grabbed my arm. I let him pull me back to the bed again; I was standing right against the edge of the bed. He scooted up to a kneeling position and grabbed me around the waist and hugged me very tightly, and said, "You're not like any of those other people I see on the streets every day, you're really special Adam. Thank you for this." He hugged tighter, and rubbed his hands up and down my back and then cupped his hands around my black Calvin Kleins and again rubbed up and down, while he nudged my stomach with his head. I just hugged back and held him. There was an apple in my throat and my chest was pounding like crazy, and that couple extra inches in the front of my briefs were getting rubbed as he nuzzled his head against my chest. I held him tighter. "Come on, little prince, the eggs are getting cold. And you're welcome. I think you've given me something very special too. So thank you." I pulled him to his feet on the bed and grabbed my arms under his butt so that I was carrying him. I walked us into the other room and deposited him onto a chair at the table. I stood behind him, both of us just in underwear and I ran my hands down his chest to his stomach and then back up, squeezing his chest gently, then grabbing his head and pulling his face up to look at me. I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. He giggled and smiled at me as I sat down on the other side. He started eating immediately. I sort of picked at my eggs, and picked up a piece of bacon with my hand while I watched him shovel hash browns and eggs into his mouth. The orange juice disappeared in two swallows and I pushed mine over to him. While he finished breakfast, and I mean cleaned up, I sipped my coffee and watched him. This was going to be hard on both of us. Marcus finished the second glass of OJ and cleaned up his plate. He looked up at me, then his eyes looked at me and I could see that he realized I was going to dress for work and leave. His eyes lost that sparkle, just as quick as he had finished the orange juice. "Guess I better get dressed and go. Adam, it's really been nice. Thanks a lot. You didn't have to do this." He stood up and went back to the bedroom. I wanted to say no, stay, but I was the one leaving. I wouldn't be here. What could I do with a thirteen year old boy while I was at the clients talking about safety meetings, hazardous waste and back up alarms on fork lifts? Marcus walked back into the front room dressed like he was last night in his new clothes. He had the extra clothes in the paper bag I got when I bought them, the extra socks and underwear. He looked much better than when I first saw him, but his face was sorrowful. He looked more depressed than when I had seen him 24 hours ago. "Marcus, tell me what's wrong," I asked. "Nothing, Adam. I'll be fine. Thanks for my clothes, they're great. It's really been nice knowing you." He turned toward the door. "Marcus, wait! Come back here." I held out my arms. He rushed back and I held him. "Now, tell me what's wrong. And I mean tell me." "I just got my hopes up. It ain't your fault. For a minute I forgot that you were leaving and I had to leave too. I'm tough, I'll be okay. You were a really nice guy. You done a lot for me, and I'm real thankful. But, I still gotta go, so thanks for the clothes and the food, and getting to sleep in a hotel. You're a great guy." He tried to pull away. He'd said his piece, and told me just like I asked him to. He is a tough guy, but tough guys cry too, and he was getting ready to, and he didn't want to breakdown in front of me. He was pulling to get out of my arms and out of the room before he broke. Too bad, I held on. "No, you're not going. I gotta go work today, but you're not going till I get back and we talk about this tonight over dinner." I paused. "You ain't got any appointments today, do you?" I winked at him as I held him at arm's length. "Well, I guess I could skip a few important appointments, if you really need me to wait," he said with a glint in his eye. "You mean really, you want me to wait for you? We could have dinner again tonight? Really?" There was anticipation in his voice, and the desperation had receded on his face. The lift to his face and the curve of his smile was there again. "Yeah, little prince, if you wouldn't mind waiting, I'd love to have dinner again with you." "Okay, I'll just meet you at the bench on the street like last night, is that okay?" "No!" I said with outrage. "You're not going to go out there again. I want you to wait here in the room for me." "Won't someone come and throw me out?" "No, just stay here in the room. I'll put the `Do Not Disturb' sign on the door handle when I leave and they won't come in. If anyone knocks on the door, just don't open the door. In fact, when I leave, throw that little bar on the top of the door so no one can get in. See that one up there?" I pointed to the safety latch above the door handle. "You're going to let me stay here all day? You don't care if I'm in your room while you're gone? You don't care?" he asked with eyes wide and awe in his voice. "Marcus, I don't care; should I? In fact, I would care if you weren't here. Will you still be here when I get back?" I looked at him seriously. He shook his head. "What does that mean, `Yes I need to worry!' or "Yes, you'll still be here?'" "I'll still be here and no you don't need to worry. I'll be good. Momma always told me to be good. I'll just sit here and wait until you come back." "How about you watch television while I'm gone. I got extra Danish pastries for breakfast so you should have something for later, like lunch time. I'll call you later today and see how you're doing. When the phone rings, answer it so I can talk to you. Here's the television remote. You turn it on and off with this button and change channels with this one. Will you be okay, here without me?" "Yeah, I'll just sit and watch television. It's like I used to do with momma when she was cleaning houses. I'll be good, promise, Adam." He had a look on his face I hadn't seen before. Here was a kid that had been on the streets for almost three years by himself, but he looked like he was afraid I would be mad at him. "Marcus, I want to open that door tonight and see you sitting here, waiting for me to come back to you. I won't be mad at you whatever happens. I just want you to be safe. I'm worried about you going back out on the streets. Now, let me ask again, will you be okay here by yourself?" "Yeah, Adam I'll be good." I pulled him too me. I held him close and rocked him back and forth for a minute. I pushed him back a bit, and leaned in and kissed him on the forehead again. I grabbed him under the arms and lifted him up and swung him around. Then I placed him on the couch, picked up the remote and said, "This is where I want to find you when I get back tonight, do you hear me?" "Now find something to watch while I get dressed," I said. I went over to the closet and pulled out a shirt, slacks and started getting dressed. I watched Marcus in the mirror while I buttoned the shirt. He was very intent on what buttons were on the remote. He found the on-off that I had shown him. Then he found that he was watching the weather forecast. Obviously it wasn't his idea of entertainment. He looked down to the remote and searched until he thought he had the channel buttons. As he pressed them the volume came up, he looked at me in the mirror. I smiled back and tilted my head to the side. He shook his head up and down, like he was saying, "yeah I know I got it wrong." The next button got it right and he beamed a smile back at me. I lifted my eyebrow, to let him know that I had noticed. I pulled the belt through the loops and slipped on some shoes. "Okay," I said and turned and picked up my briefcase, took my sports coat off the hanger in the closet and fished my room key out of my pocket. "Marcus, here's the key to the door. Put it in your pocket. If for any reason you have to leave the room, you'll be able to get back in, okay?" "Okay, Adam; thanks," he said and tucked the plastic room key into his khakis. I stood at the door, and looked back at him on that couch. This was a kid that needed from me what Fernando had given me. I couldn't see him back out on the streets again. I had to come up with something. *** *** *** *** *** *** I thought about the situation all the way to Golden. I thought about Marcus almost on the hour all morning long. My concentration was not on the meeting. Luckily, I was delegating projects instead of doing them. At noon, before we went out to lunch, I called back to the hotel. "Hello?" "Marcus, how you doing? This is Adam," I said. "Okay. I'm just watching TV. Someone knocked on the door a while ago and I just sat there on the couch. `Ventually they went away." He sounded a little nervous. "Marcus, you're doing fine. I'll finish here about five o'clock and then be there about five thirty, okay. Just hang in there, little prince." "Okay, Adam, whatever you say." *** *** *** *** *** *** I left the client's office parking lot at five minutes after five and drove directly back to the hotel. Again I parked the car in the garage across the street. Coming across the street I found Marcus sitting on the bench where I had first found him. He was shivering and shaking. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. I dropped my briefcase on the ground and sat down next to him. I wrapped my arms around him and held him, while he sobbed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry." He sort of got that out between sobs. "It's okay, Marcus. I'm here, and it will be okay." I just held him. Eventually, he calmed down. "Okay, now; tell me what all this was about," I said. "I . . . I . . . I got scared. Someone pounded on the door this afternoon. They called out your name and pounded more. Then they went away, but I thought they were going to come back and throw me out of the room. So I left before they came back. I looked out in the hall and they weren't there. I went out in the hallway and the door closed and I couldn't make the plastic card open the door. Then I came down here and the doorman wouldn't let me back in the hotel. So, I figured I'd wait for you here. But I was `fraid you'd be mad that I left the room." "Marcus, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the doorman, but I doubt that will make any difference right now. You want to come in, and we'll talk about dinner?" "Yeah, that'd be great. Really, you're not mad at me?" he asked with a puppy-dog face. Even though he had taken a shower yesterday and cleaned up well, I could see tear streaks of dirt down his cheeks. How can you not like a face like that? I pulled him to me and hugged him. "It's okay, Marcus. It's okay, I love you, and I'm not made at you. Okay, let's go in, it's getting cold out here even for me, and you've been here longer than me." I picked up my briefcase and took his hand. "This time you're coming in with me, and no doorman is keeping you out." *** *** *** *** *** *** I got dirty looks from the doorman, but he could go to hell. I also wasn't going to spend any precious time dealing with him. Venting my emotions wouldn't find a place for Marcus in the next 24 hours. We walked past the front desk holding hands, and I wasn't going to let go of Marcus this time. We went up in the elevator to the third floor, and as I used the card to open the door, Marcus' eyes were wide with inquisition. When he saw me put the card in the slot, he let out an "OH!" I turned to him, and said, "It wasn't your fault; I forgot to show you how to use the key. I forgot that you had never seen one, I'm really sorry little prince, I caused this problem, and I'm really sorry." "It's okay Adam. I shouldn't a' been scared and just waited like you told me." On the floor as I opened the door was a fax from the front desk in an envelope. I leaned down and picked it up, the date and time were written on the cover. The time was 3:05pm. I looked t Marcus, as the door closed. "Marcus, did the guy bang on the door about 3 o'clock this afternoon?" "Yeah, I guess that might have been it," he said. "Was this envelope on the floor when you left?" I asked. "I think so, yeah it was," he said, not quite sure why I was asking. I could see the beginning of fear in his eyes. "Relax, don't be afraid. The guy banging on the door was just delivering this envelope to me. He wasn't up here to throw you out." I rumpled his hair, to let him know that it was okay. I hung up the jacket, dropped the briefcase on the desk and turned to Marcus. "You want hot chocolate, coffee or a Coke?" I asked. "Coke please," he said. "Well, here's three dollar bills, go out the door, down the hall to the right and to the end, on the right side you'll find the vending machines. Get me a Coke and whatever you want for yourself. When you open the door to the room, pull that little safety latch closed before the door closes and then you can get back in without having to knock." He took the money and went to the door very cautiously. He opened the door and held it until he had the latch in position, then watching me and the latch he slowly closed the door, making sure that it would do what I had said. I could see his smile through the crack left in the door. I lay back on the couch; what was I going to do? How do you leave someone that needs you like this? I'd messed this kid's life up in twenty-four hours. It was like Pygmalion, I'd taken the flower girl out of the gutter and what was she good for now? I couldn't send Marcus back after showing him all of this. More than that, I couldn't send him back now that he had claimed a place in my heart. I've been stewing over this problem all day, but now that I've created it, I also can't solve it by myself. It's not my life I'm talking about. Time for the traditional family meeting; of course, we're only going to be able to use that term in the loosest sense here. But Marcus and I have to have a talk. I'm not his father and I can't make these decisions for him, without him. What a pickle you got yourself in here Adam! *** *** *** *** *** *** While Marcus was getting drinks, I reached down to the table and picked up the envelope that caused all the trouble for him this afternoon with the big words on the outside: "FAX ENCLOSED." This was Saturday and my office wasn't open. I couldn't think of any clients that knew where I was staying expect the one here in Golden and they wouldn't fax me anything; I'd been with them all day. I opened the envelope and found one page. I pulled it out. It was international, the sending phone number started with "01371." That was Essex, England; who did I know there? The emblem at the top of the page had three crosses on a shield arranged with a chevron above a banner that said, "Garde Ta Foy." (Keep Faith, the same motto as the Magdalene College at Cambridge University.) The fax only said: Philip Hart Urban Peak Denver 1630 S. Acoma St. Denver, CO 80223 Tele. 303.777.9198 Fax 303.777.9438 Marcus is family. Take care of him. Fernando and the boys. Marcus came back into the room and closed the door. I just sat there with the page in my hands, I was not sure what to do. This was the second time Fernando had contacted me since his mysterious disappearance in McAllen. And each time was more mysterious than the last. Did I have an angel over my shoulder? Or did I have a fate that some else knew better than I did myself? "Adam, here don't you want it?" asked Marcus. "What?" "You were just staring, and you didn't say anything when I asked the first time. I just wondered if you wanted the Coke?" "Oh, yeah, thanks Marcus." I took the can. First, he just happens to need the car that I was going to get, then he insists that we share the suite in the hotel, only to disappear without a trace three days later. I search for him in Houston, then after an unusually open and personal conversation with Sebastian I get a phone message from him and now a fax from England. I haven't seen anyone around watching me, I haven't seen Fernando since McAllen and yet he seems to know exactly what's going on. What is this Urban Peak? "You going to drink it?" asked Marcus. "Yeah, I just got lost thinking. Sorry. I just got a fax from England with an address and phone number here in Denver. You ever heard about some organization called `Urban Peak'?" "Yeah, sure. That's a place for older kids," Marcus said. "What do you mean a place for older kids?" "Well kids that are on the streets like me can go there and they can get a bed for the night, go to school, get jobs, and even eventually get an apartment. They're pretty okay people there but they don't take kids my age. The head guy over there, Mr. Hart, is pretty cool. How did you know about them?" "Well the fax that scared you this afternoon just gave me an address and phone number for them and told me you," I pointed my finger at him, "are family." "What do you mean I'm family?" "Can you read this fax?" I asked. I'd never really seen Marcus read since we'd been together and didn't know if the information in the fax was beyond his reading capabilities. "Of course I can read. I have to get around town, I have to read," he said indignantly. "Well, here's the fax. See there's the address and phone numbers for Urban Peak and then under that it says, `Marcus is family. Take care of him.'" "I see that, but who's this `Fernando' guy and the boys?" he asked very slowly and cautiously. He seemed very suspect that his name was listed on this paper, by someone he didn't know. "Marcus, this is going to be a strange story. Let's order dinner, and then I'm going to tell you more about me and Fernando than you might believe. Obviously, you're `family' and you can be told this or Fernando wouldn't have said so." I picked up the phone on the side table and ordered for us. Two steaks, mashed potatoes, Caesar salads, pecan pie ala mode, and drinks should keep us busy. "Marcus, I'm going to change out of these clothes. I've had them on all day, and I want to be comfortable. Why don't you see if you can figure out that radio and find us some quiet music?" He jumped up on the couch and knelt there leaning over the radio and started pushing buttons and turning dials. It squeaked and squawked and made some awful noise, but it would keep him busy while I changed and until dinner arrived. I took longer than needed to change, but I was trying to think. What was happening? How did Fernando know exactly where I was, and what I was doing? How did he appear exactly at the right times? I didn't have answers to these questions. Would I ever have answers? Now I was going to tell this strange, exciting wondrous tale to Marcus. Would I scare this innocent child? Would he understand the depth of what I was saying, would he know that I loved him and didn't want to leave him? Would he feel that I was abandoning him if I left tomorrow? Marcus was still turning dials and making noise. I picked up the phone in the bedroom area and dialed the number on the fax. I better find out what out the options were before I started to offer them to Marcus. The phone rang three times and was answered. "Yes, Urban Peak, may I help you?" said the voice on the other end. There was a foreign accent to the voice, yet the English was strong and proper. "Uh, hello, I want to talk to Mister Philip Hart, please," I said. "That is me, I am Philip Hart," he said. "My name is Adam Bricker and I just received a fax that recommended I call you. I am staying in Denver. I understand that you run Urban Peak and you take care of homeless and runaway children." "Yes, sir that is our mission. I received a fax today also. It said that you would be calling. Normally I'm not here on Saturday nights. This is generally the time that I'm out on the streets. My fax was from Seņor Fernando Miguel Gabriel Corazon de Dios, do you know him?" "Yes, we met last week. I met a homeless boy here in Denver and I'm looking for someone to care for him after I leave tomorrow. I believe that I'm supposed to talk to you about this." I knew this was what I was supposed to do, but talking to a stranger about Marcus felt like I was betraying this new friendship. "I would be very pleased to talk to you tomorrow morning. Would that be okay? Could we meet here at the housing units at around eleven o'clock tomorrow morning?" he asked. There was still that accent in the background, but he was very polite and seemed like he would help us. "Thank you for talking to me. We'll see you in the morning," I said. "Mr. Bricker, we'll see you in the morning. Don't be worry, Marcus will be fine." And with those closing comments he hung up. How did he know I was talking about Marcus? But, then how did Fernando know to fax both of us? "Room service!" the waiter yelled from outside the door. I went to the door, and let him in. Signed the order and slipped him a tip. He left, and I turned to Marcus. The radio finally had some classical channel on, and he was sitting there on the couch waiting. I sat down next to him, and placed one arm around his shoulders, leaned down and grabbed his far knee and pulled his legs up and then dragged his whole body onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head against his. He turned his head to me; we were eye to eye, and nose to nose. "Marcus, I'm going to tell you everything that happened to me in the last week. It's going to be a lot of things I don't completely understand, sometimes I won't have an answer to your questions, but I want you to know before we eat dinner, before I tell you any of this, that I LOVE YOU. I'm going to be very honest with you, I will not lie to you or avoid your questions, but if I tell you I don't know, it means I really don't know. "Tomorrow we're going to meet this guy names Philip Hart at the Urban Peak project housing. He knew I was going to call him before I even made the call. This fax and everything is very strange. I'm going to be leaving tomorrow afternoon, but I want to be sure that you're taken care of. I'm doing the best that I know how. I've never had to be responsible for a kid before. I know I can't take you with me, but I don't know what I can do for you here in Denver. This guy at Urban Peak sounds like he might help. If it doesn't work out, I'M GOING TO FIND SOMETHING FOR YOU." I wasn't sure what else I could do in this situation. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. All of a sudden I was responsible for this kid. We'd leaned apart while I was talking. I could feel that I was holding my breath, like that would do something to help, but it wouldn't. Marcus leaned over to me, and kissed me on the mouth. He wrapped his arms around my neck, and ran his fingers up through my hair. He said, "Adam, I know you love me. I'll be okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, I'll be okay, `cause you love me. My momma said she'd always watch out for me, now I know that you will too. And you know what, I love you too." He kissed me again, and I hugged him close. The hell with the steaks, this felt so much better. ************************************************************************ Send comments to: adambrick@tomcup.com To support this and other stories by the author, join at http://www.tomcup.com. If you like this story, check out Tom Cup's "Calvin: A Coming of Age Story." Available at Barnes and Nobles Bookstores, Amazon.com, your local independent bookseller, or get a copy from Tom Cup.com. Tom Cup's "Of Our Teenage Years" is scheduled for publication and release in paperback in 2004. Check it out at http://www.tomcup.com!