Date: Sun, 13 Jan 2008 01:52:49 -0500
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: JAMIE WRESTON - 3

JAMIE WRESTON - 3

Copyright 2008 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the author.  However based on real events and
places, "Jamie Wreston" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  As
in real life, sexual themes unfold gradually.  Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl_mason@comcast.net

If you would like to read additional stories by this author, please turn to
the "Authors/Prolific Authors" link at the beginning of the Nifty Archive.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands safe sex.


CHAPTER 3

(Revisiting Chapter 2)

All went well until about 1:00 a.m. when Matt woke up out of a sound sleep.
Lightening was flashing over the river; a deep-voiced thunder was rolling
as if the mountains themselves were gathering for a powwow.  Seemingly half
asleep, his young ward was standing beside the bed clad only in his
tighty-whities.  In a voice that sounded lost, even frightened (which,
surely, no teen of any age would admit), the youngster moaned, "Uncle Matt,
I can't get to sleep.  May I please jump in with you...just for tonight?"
Matt lifted the light blanket in front of him and sleepily grunted his
permission.  Jamie remembered grinning to himself just before he fell
asleep.

(Continuing Our Story: "Miles to Go Before I Sleep")

After Ontario, Oregon, there were, of course, many miles to travel - and
several other towns in which to sleep...Evanston, Wyoming...Kimball,
Nebraska...Council Bluffs, Iowa...Joliet, Illinois, and Youngstown, Ohio,
for instance - before reaching Anne's Harbor in the Bay Country.  In truth,
they never had reason to question their decision to drive home rather than
return by air.  Nor did they find any reason to doubt having placed their
trust...and their future...in the hands of the other.

Looking back on their experience, there were several happenings that always
remained in their memories.  For example, they always remembered the
incredibly steep western face of the Wasatch Mountain range outside Salt
Lake City.  Matt explained that many geologists felt this westward-facing
wall was the companion to the eastward-facing wall of the Sierra Nevada,
many, many miles to the west.  The land in between - from the Great Salt
Lake, across the Nevada desert, to the Donner Pass beyond Reno - was in
effect a "down-drop block".  That is, it was a section of land that had
simply dropped between faults associated with two great lines of ancient
volcanoes.

Once having reached the top of the Wasatch, they found themselves on a
high, semi- arid, mountainous plateau through which passed the "Continental
Divide."  This was the imaginary line that separated river systems that
drained towards the East (e.g., the Missouri) and the West (e.g., the Snake
that flows into the Columbia, and the Columbia that flows into the
Pacific).  Even when they approached Laramie and Cheyenne in the eastern
part of Wyoming, however, Jamie commented that they were "sure still in the
West."  "How's that?" Matt asked with a grin.  "Waell, podner," he
exclaimed, donning the hat that Matt had bought for him back in Pendleton,
"be careful you don't hit those pickup trucks!  All the guys are wearing
cowboy hats!"  Matt laughed, for the boy was right.  Unfortunately, he also
had some thoughts that weren't nearly as pleasant as he worked his way
through the pickup trucks filled with drunken students and others as they
whooped it up on a Saturday night in Laramie.  (Author's Note: Those
desiring to make contributions to the Matthew Shepard Foundation can do so
at www.matthewshepard.org.  The Foundation is doing some good things, but
there is always more to do in combating a deeply ingrained homophobia in
this country.)

It wasn't until they stopped for the night just inside Nebraska (the third
night of the trip) that they began to feel a cultural change.  Yes, it was
still the "High Plains," but it was something else, too.  (They would
explore what was "different" by temporarily leaving the interstate and
driving through some small western Nebraska towns the next day.)
Fortunately, Jamie was still in fine fettle, enjoying the long trip and
giving every sign of bonding with his uncle.  He still enjoyed showering
with his "podner" and now took it for granted that he would sleep with him.
Matt wondered whether this was wise, but he finally decided that the main
thing at this point in time was to keep Jamie stable and surrounded with
love.  He had suffered quite enough.  He was also sufficiently perceptive
to realize that he enjoyed the closeness as much as Jamie.  As long as no
one was hurt, he told himself.

They had crossed Nebraska, and Iowa, and most of Illinois before anything
untoward did happen.  Planning to stay the night (the fifth night) near
Joliet on the outer ring of the Chicago metropolitan area, it was only with
some irritation that Matt pulled into a large service area about 75 miles
west of his goal.  (The redheaded one was racing for the men's john almost
before Matt had set the parking brake!)  Matt sat down over a welcome cup
of coffee in the food area and awaited the return of his boy.  Suddenly, he
noticed a commotion over by the entrance to the lavatories where an
agitated man had exited and was screaming for the police.  Matt slammed the
men's door open not three steps in front of a security officer with drawn
revolver.  What he saw froze his feet to the tile floor.  An older male,
well dressed though red faced and obviously upset, was tightly holding a
weeping Jamie over by one wall.  The youth's shorts did not conceal a long,
flaccid cock that pushed through his open fly.  Mumbling for Matt to step
aside, the officer, who had holstered his revolver, pushed in front of him
and spoke calmly to the man.  "You know, sir, if there's a misunderstanding
here, we can clear it up and that'll be the end of it, but you need to let
the lad go right now," he said.  "I can't help you if you don't."  His face
nearly frozen with fear, the man let go of Jamie who ran immediately into
Matt's arms.  At that point, a second man, roughly dressed, exited one of
the stalls.  "When you've comforted your son," the officer murmured to
Matt, "come down to our office at the end of the long hall."  With that, he
walked quietly over to the man, cuffed him, and led him and the witness out
of the lavatory.

Jamie was shaking so hard that his teeth were chattering.  With Matt's arms
tightly around him, however, his quickly ceased crying and just burrowed
into Matt's chest.  "What happened, Big Red?" the man finally whispered.
Allowing a final sob to clear his throat, the boy breathed, "Oh, Dad, I had
to go so bad that I just ran in here full speed, got in front of
the...urinal, pulled it out, and let go!  A minute later, I heard the man
next to me say, "Hey, Red, that's a super one!  He reached over, covered my
mouth, and grabbed my penis as he pushed me towards one of the stalls.
Then a man came out of one of the stalls and ran outside.  You came in a
couple of minutes later.  Thanks, Dad!"  The young teen began to blush as
he realized that he had used the word "Dad" again, but grinned up at Matt
as the man simply hugged him tighter and kissed him on top of his wild red
mop.  Beginning to regain his equilibrium, he asked, wide-eyed, "Was that
cop going to shoot him?"  "Well, Jamie, I don't think he wanted to.  His
first goal was to free you," Matt answered.  "His second goal, however, was
to make sure that bastard doesn't go after another kid!  Are you up to
walking down to the police station and helping the police by telling them
what happened?"  "You'll come with me...Uncle Matt?" the boy whispered
haltingly.  "Bet on it, Cowboy!" Matt answered, turned on the water in a
basin, and helped his ward to clean up.

As they approached the small, glass-fronted police station, they could see
that the officer was talking with the two men who had seen what was going
on.  As a matter of fact, immediately before they left, the second man
signed something.  The officer came to the door, smiled at Jamie, and
thanked both of them for stopping by.  They weren't there long.  Jamie told
the officer exactly what he had told Matt; both signed statements.  "I
doubt that we will be calling on you again, Professor Wreston," the officer
said as Matt signed his statement.  "We now have four statements, and the
two witnesses who just left live in this area.  Thanks to your bravery,
young man, I think the guy who grabbed you will be out of circulation for
some time.  Our office will notify you about the disposition of the case.
Have a good trip home!"

Several minutes after again heading for Joliet, Jamie became quite silent.
Finally, he said, "Dad...Matt...whatever, there's something I don't
understand.  The guy who grabbed...me was real excited.  His eyes looked
funny and he was sweating as he tried to push me into one of the stalls.
He HAD to be gay, yes?"  "Chances are," Matt replied quietly, fearing what
was to come.  "But Dad!" Jamie exploded.  "You said YOU were gay!  You
wouldn't treat me that way, would you?"  "I sure wouldn't," Matt replied
firmly.  "Here's part of the problem," Matt continued.  "You were taught
that gays are dangerous...QUEERS, people who will hurt you if you don't
watch out and stay away from them.  Right?"  Jamie nodded and his uncle
continued.  "Haven't you ever heard of guys your age who were hurt at home
by their parents?"  "Oh, sure," the redhead replied emphatically.  "In
fact, one of my friends was really scared of his father.  Sometimes, when
his dad was drinking, he really hurt him.  I saw the bruises on his
back...and other places.  Mom told me that his mother had finally gone to
the police and that they had stopped it.  Still," he said regretfully, "I
was sure sorry when he moved away."

"Ok, Jamie, think!  What can you conclude from this conversation?" Matt
asked.  The young teen sat for several minutes without speaking.  Then he
murmured, "Well, I'm not completely sure, but it looks like there are some
gays who hurt people and some who don't - just like there are some people
who AREN'T gay and hurt people and some who don't.  Am I on the right
track, sir?"  "Yep," Matt said quietly.  "The question of who turns you on
- who excites you physically - and who hurts others are two different
questions.  Knowing the answer to one just doesn't give you the answer to
the other.  Now, beast!"  he broke off the conversation, "there's more, but
this traffic is fierce.  Let's take this exit and find a good place to eat
and sleep.  If you wish, we can continue over supper, ok?"  "Ok, Dad!"
Jamie burbled, looking around him and then adding, "I'm hungry!"  The boy
didn't bring the topic up again, at least that evening.  Evidently, the
question that was foremost on his mind had been answered sufficiently.
Like the good teacher who knew when he had made his point, Professor
Wreston stopped while he was ahead!  In this case - unlike some others -
Matt was also relieved when Jamie absolutely insisted on showering with him
prior to going to supper.  Believe that an especially thorough lathering
was administered by a cute redhead who laughed and joked all the way!

(Two Days from Home)

Thus far their trip had been blessed with fantastic weather.  (It hadn't
even rained in Portland!)  On their penultimate day, however, their
blessings ran out.  It began raining during the night.  It absolutely
poured as they drove deeper into the Chicago metropolitan area in heavy
traffic.  If anything, it rained even harder as they swung east around the
lower end of Lake Michigan and across northernmost Indiana.  It was raining
when they got into Ohio and turned southeast just before reaching the
greater Cleveland area.  It was teeming as Matt finally groaned with
fatigue and called for a timeout well short of Youngstown.

As they came off the Interstate, it was necessary to wend their way through
a parking area for trucks before reaching the food area.  They hadn't gone
far when Jamie called for Matt to stop.  He had noticed a body between two
trucks, a body that later turned out to be dressed in nothing but Naval
Academy shorts and a T-shirt.  Putting the blinkers on, the two adventurers
slogged over to see what was up.  The young man, probably in his very late
teens or early twenties, was lying on his stomach in a heavy puddle.  He
was still breathing.  In fact, he was conscious, though dazed.  Protecting
the young man's face from the direct rain, Matt introduced himself, said
that he and his boy were on their way back home to Maryland, and asked,
"Who are you, son?"  Through battered and bloody lips, the lad answered,
"I'm Rob Baker, sir, Midshipman Second Class at Annapolis."  Both his eyes
were blackened and swelling.  His face was covered with bruises and cuts
and there were large splotches of blood on his T-shirt.  "What happened
here?" Matt asked.  Rob groaned and spoke with some difficulty.  "I was
trying to get back to the Academy before my leave was up, sir.  The three
guys who offered a ride beat me up, took all my gear, and left me here."
"Nothing else?"  Matt asked.  "Nope," the young man replied, "although one
of the SOBs wanted more."  "Well, Rob," Matt interjected, "let's get you
over to the restaurant where we can call the police and a medical team.  If
you wish, we'll stay with you until they arrive.  Come on, Jamie, let's get
this big swabby on his feet."  Between the three of them, they managed,
although Rob could barely stand without bending over in pain.  When they
had half-dragged the muscular kid over to the car, Matt told Jamie to get a
few towels plus one of his heavy shirts and a pair of khakis out of his
luggage, as well as the blanket that was loose in the trunk.  He should
spread it over the front passenger seat and then adjust the seat so that
Rob would have maximal leg room with the seat back tilting slightly to the
rear.

When Rob was inside and Jamie had climbed in back, Matt got in and sat for
a moment while he fiddled with the controls.  He turned towards Rob and
noticed that tears were spilling down his cheeks.  "Hang on, sailor.  We'll
have some help for you PDQ!"  "Sir, forgive me," the youngster whispered,
"but could we talk for a moment?"  "Sure thing, Big Guy," Matt responded.
"What's up?"  "On my word of honor, sir, what I am about to tell you is the
truth.  Nothing inside me feels broken, though I sure have had
the...stuffing kicked out of me.  It's a long story, but the short version
is that unless I can get back to the Academy by...5:00 p.m. tomorrow,
chances are I'll be kicked out.  You said that home was in Maryland.  Is
there any chance whatsoever, sir" - and here he coughed and groaned in
pain.  "Is there any chance that you could get me back to Annapolis?"

"How old are you, Rob?" Matt asked.  "Twenty, sir," the young man answered.
"Well, I guess that's old enough to take responsibility for yourself.
Trouble is, I'm responsible for my nephew's safety, as well as my own.
There's no way I can take you on without knowing that you are who you claim
to be.  I assume that your ID was lost when they robbed you?"  "Yes, sir,"
Rob responded, "but I can give you the Academy phone number.  Please help
me."  Matt turned around and looked directly at Jamie.  "What do you think,
son?"  Jamie put a big hand on Rob's shoulder and said, "Let's try, Dad."

Using the car cell phone, Matt called the number he was given.  The Academy
switchboard immediately connected him with the Duty Officer-on Base.  After
Matt had explained what he knew of the situation, the Officer courteously
thanked him and asked to speak with the young man in question.  After
speaking for several minutes, Rob returned the phone to Matt.  "It appears
that Mr.  Baker is who he claims to be, Professor Wreston," the Officer
said.  "We're grateful to you for helping him."  "One more thing," Matt
said.  "I'm nervous about his physical condition.  Do you have a physician
on duty with whom I might speak?"  "Yes, sir, hold on."  A Dr. Richards
answered after a short pause.  Again, Matt filled him in on what he knew.
Again, the Officer asked if he might speak with Rob.  Again, the phone was
returned to him after a short conversation.  "Let me add my thanks for
helping this young man, Professor.  There is a large pharmacy in the
shopping center just beyond the junction of I-80 and I-76...on the
right-hand side.  You can't miss it.  I'm going to get a prescription to
them for some pain killers and a few other odds and ends for Mr. Baker.
Please tell him that I look forward to seeing him tomorrow."  "Thank you,
Dr. Richards," Matt said warmly.  With today's nasty weather, I've got to
stop tonight, but we'll see you some time tomorrow afternoon.  (Pause.)
Yes, Doctor.  Thanks again and good-bye for now.

"Ok, Mr.  Baker, we'll be happy to help."  The youngster turned his face
towards the window for a moment before saying in a very unsteady voice,
"Thank you, sir.  I'll always remember your kindness.  It's kinda against
regulations, but I'd sure like you to call me 'Rob' when we're alone.
(Pause.)  Could you completely lower this seat?  My back is killing me!"
"You've got it, man," Matt laughed, tousling his hair.  Asking Jamie to
come around to the passenger's side, the two of them helped Rob out of his
sopping wet T-shirt, shorts, and briefs whereupon he lay back down on the
heavy blanket.  Matt couldn't help but gasp.  The 5'10" or 11" twenty
year-old was surely an athlete.  At least he had a body straight out of a
Classic Greek statuary book!  His arms and shoulders, his pecs and the
remainder of his torso, as well as his genitals, thighs, and calves...even
his feet...were just about as perfect as the human physique can be.  He was
also one of those brunettes who had perfect skin marred by little hair.
His upper body, other than shadows of hair in his arm pits, was essentially
hairless.  He had a carefully trimmed pubic bush of medium brown, but no
hair on his cock or long scrotum.  In the poor light, he couldn't even see
hair on his muscular thighs, and his calves were but lightly furred.
Beautiful...  Matt wondered how he had gotten his even, overall tan.
Regaining control over his wandering eyes, he told Jamie that he would
lower the seat slowly.  The boy's job was to make sure that Rob's legs
didn't hit against the dashboard and then to tuck the edges of the large
blanket around his body.  When he had returned to the back seat, Matt
resumed their journey to the southeast.  The rain had let up a little, but
it was still coming down.  Somewhat hidden from the driver's seat, Jamie
began to dry off his hair and upper body, gently wiped the tears off Rob's
cheeks, and whispered that everything was going to be ok.

Glorying in the way in which the Mercedes (HIS new Mercedes!) was holding
the road under far less than perfect conditions, Matt picked up speed until
he was pushing the notion of "safe and sane."  Within the hour, he reached
the intersection of I-80 and I-76 and quickly spotted the drug store.  A
very affable middle-aged druggist had a rather large bag ready to hand him.
"I've put the young man's prescription inside, along with a bottle of
water," he explained, "and there are also some wipes and a few other things
that may make him a bit more comfortable.  Also, I stapled the note that
Dr. Richards dictated to you on the outside of the bag."  Thanking the
gentleman, Matt reached for his wallet.  "No, no, sir.  It's prepaid," the
druggist laughed.  "The Academy has a way of taking care of its own."  Matt
could only thank him again and quickly return to the car.  He asked Jamie
to give Rob one of the pills and begin cleaning him up a bit while he read
the note from Dr.  Richards.  It was short and to the point: He didn't
recommend going into Youngstown, the great rust bucket still known as the
center of "Steel Valley" - even though the steel industry had long since
died.  Better to stay right on I-76 and avoid the heavy morning traffic.
He was only ten miles from the Pennsylvania state line.  If he were looking
for a good motel, he could do far worse than the very comfortable
"Penguintown Inn" that was right in the same shopping center as the drug
store.  And, of course, he again wished them a good trip.  Nice, thought
Matt.

Returning to the car, he immediately spotted the large, pleasant-looking
motel and drove over to it.  Handing the completed registration card to the
clerk, he was greeted warmly and informed that a very comfortable room with
two large beds and a roll-away had been prepaid.  Further, he could drive
around to the side where the door led almost directly to his room.
Perhaps, he would like to use a wheelchair that he had left just inside the
outer door to make it a little easier for Mr. Baker.  Matt only grinned,
offered his thanks, and commented that it DID appear that the Academy took
care of its own!  The young clerk laughed and agreed.  "Oh, yes," he added,
"our small restaurant is open for another two hours.  Would you and the boy
prefer to come up front or have us send something to you."  Saying that he
would get back to him on the phone, Matt thanked him and, shaking his head
in disbelief, trudged back to the car.

Removing Rob from the vehicle proved to be easier than getting him in, for
the powerful pain pill had already knocked him galley-west.  Moving him to
their comfortable room in the wheel chair was also easy, though lifting his
heavy body onto one of the beds took all the strength they had, and then
some.  Exhausted, Matt slumped down into one of the room's chairs, his head
bowed.  Immediately, Jamie moved in back of the chair, helped Matt to
remove his coat, and began kneading his shoulders.  "I always try to do
what you tell me to, Dad," he mumbled.  "Now you have to follow my orders.
Let me help you to stand up, climb onto our bed, and get a little sleep.
I'll wake you in an hour or so and then we can worry about food.  Ok?"
"Ok, son," Matt replied thickly.  As soon as he dropped clumsily onto the
bed, he fell into a deep sleep.  Jamie carefully removed his shoes,
straightened his legs out a bit, and tucked a blanket around his body.
"Love you, Dad," the boy whispered.

Tired, though not exhausted, Jamie decided that this was probably the best
time to wash some travel dirt off his body and popped directly into the
shower.  Not many minutes later, a surprisingly refreshed teen returned to
the room, drying himself off with a large and comfortably soft towel.  For
a moment, he sat on the edge of his roll-away, the towel draped across one
thigh.  His eyes scanned the room, finally focusing on Rob's still body.
Tossing the towel onto the roll-away, he got up and quietly moved over
beside the midshipman's bed.  After standing there for a few seconds
without movement or sound, the naked redhead called softly to Rob.  When
the young man didn't answer, he looked back nervously towards Matt.
Slowly, ever so slowly, his fingers reached down and pushed the blanket off
the young midshipman.  As his full body, lightly glazed with perspiration
and softly glowing in the light of the lamp, was disclosed, Jamie found
that he could neither breathe nor swallow.  Close to panic, he felt his
cock swell, harden, and slap back hard against his smooth stomach.

While one hand went instinctively to his manhood, toying with the drops of
precum that were beginning to appear at the mouth of his urethra, the other
hand began to explore Rob's chest.  He had never seen anything so
beautiful.  His fingers almost slid off the edge of a heavy pec...would
have had they not caught on the nipple...the aureole about the size of a
quarter...darker, but different from the color of his lightly bronzed
skin...  Hey, the nipples get hard...wow!  He rubbed a hand over his own
nipples and felt a tingle that went straight to his impossibly hard cock.
Slowly, his finger wrote in the sweat that coated Rob's hard lower stomach.
Yeah!  'I...love...you.'  With an irritated gesture, he swept the writing
and the sweat away with the side of his hand.  Hell!  He was a man...not
some fuckin' fag!

Maybe they were both on a Navy cruiser that had been torpedoed.  It was
sinking and there was no way out for either of them.  He wanted to be close
to his buddy.  Trembling with the fear that an awakened Rob would be mad
with him...or not like him...he slowly lay down full length on the
midshipman's body.  Oh, God!  The side of his face rubbed against Rob's
chest.  He could hear his heart...he felt warm...and safe...and Rob's smell
just about drove him nuts!  Down below, their cocks...hard, erect, and
dripping precum...were fighting kind of a duel as they rubbed against each
other.  He needed to stop this...now!  But he couldn't...  The water rushed
into the compartment and engulfed them.  All kinds of colors played in his
head as he couldn't breathe.  He hung onto Rob's heavy biceps for dear
life...  There was water everywhere...  Suddenly, Rob moved and moaned
deeply.

Jamie catapulted off the young man as if he were a plane taking off from an
aircraft carrier!  Looking down, he saw one hell of a mess.  Rob's
body...and his...were splashed with thick, white jism.  Panicking, he ran
for the bathroom, filled the ice bucket with warm water, grabbed a
washcloth and a towel, and headed back to his friend.  All was well.  He
was able to clean both of them up before Rob awoke.  In fact, he was
sitting on the side of the bed...in his briefs...gently rubbing some of the
ointment that Dr.  Richards had prescribed on his bruises, when he realized
that his patient was awake.  Rob's eyes followed the boy's fingers for a
few minutes before he spoke.  "Don't you ever sleep, redhead?  Hey, I've
got a job that you might be interested in."  "Yeah?"  Jamie grunted.
"Yeah," the swabby said, "I'm in the market for a brother.  Any chance that
you'd be interested?"  Jamie's chin dropped bashfully, causing a shock of
red hair to fall down over his eyes.  Rob could still tell that his lips
were trembling.  "Yeah," the boy said quietly.  "I'd like that...a lot."
Both of them looked guiltily across the room at Matt who was awake and
grousing about the racket!

A return to good weather ensured a super final day.  Staying on the
Pennsylvania Turnpike until they were above Washington, they cut south
between the District and Baltimore directly to Annapolis.  An Academy guard
told them that Dr. Richards had been notified and would be with them
directly.  As they waited, they talked with Rob who had had a good night
and was feeling considerably more like himself.  "We like you, Robby - and
we'd like to stay in touch," Matt offered.  "You feel very much like
family.  Surely, there's some way that we can make that happen."  "Yes,
sir!" Rob exclaimed...with a very wide grin.  "If I remember correctly, the
Academy has a program that allows wider contacts between the midshipmen and
people in the area called 'sponsors'."  Looking at Jamie with a look of
upperclass superiority, he added, " My brother and I have exchanged all
kinds of contact information.  I'll send you the sponsorship info during
the next few days."  Jamie threw his arm around his Big Bro's shoulders,
looked at Matt with crossed eyes, and emitted a loud "Woof!"  "Sounds good
to me, you two crazies," Matt snickered.  "I assume that the officer coming
straight at us with a couple of men and a gurney is Dr. Richards.  Hold
on."

Lieutenant Commander Richards was every bit as pleasant in person as he was
on the phone.  Following introductions, he scrutinized Rob and allowed,
"You look even better this afternoon than I had hoped, Mr. Baker.  We'll
try to get you back to full duty as quickly as possible.  Your roommates
will be at the clinic later on to see what they can do."  "Thank you, sir!"
Rob responded.  Turning to Matt and Jamie, the doctor asked if they had
received everything they needed to support the midshipman.  "Yes, indeed,
Doctor," Matt replied.  "We had wonderful cooperation from some very fine
people, especially at the pharmacy and motel you recommended.  What they
did went well above anything expected."  "Oh, not really," Richards said
with a mischievous grin.  "In any case, I'm glad you enjoyed meeting my
father and brother.  For the record, they said that you were good guys,
too.  I couldn't agree more.  Others will be in touch in due course, for we
at the Academy are most grateful for your kindness to one of ours."

As the doctor, Rob, and the medical team made their way across the Yard,
Matt put his arm around his son's shoulders.  "Ok, monster bait, to get
home we've got one more bridge to cross.  Let's get to it!"


(To Be Continued)