TRAVELER
Chapter 169

by CARL DICKSON

Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm
.

A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.


You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing the TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in the full version Send an e-mail for it.
    Ģer and Luke love their little bungalow. The boys have plenty of money and they have had ample opportunity to move to a larger home, but they love the family and we love them. None of us ever want to part. My heart skipped a beat when Cas announced that he and Tyler would be moving into the dorm to take care of the boys there, but Ģer invited them to have dinner with him and Luke and that matter never came up again.
    I remember with fondness the morning that Tyler came across the grounds at Disneyland to be reunited with his little brother. Tyler is a wonderful young man with a solid head on his solid shoulders. I was overjoyed when Judge Thoms awarded full custody of Turner to his older sibling. When the two boys moved up the hill from their place and into my house I began to feel that we were gathering a family unit that would bond together forever.
    My blood was charged when I watched Mr. Casper slap a very athletic boy as we were visiting a museum. I could do nothing, but I had wanted to. A bit later I discovered a frightened Cas hiding in my ATV storage area of Traveler©. I was happy to take the boy home with me. He was the first boy that ever moved into my house and it is from him that my family has grown. My walls would seem empty without him around.

    Everyone of us cherishes the food that our very own Çhé Ģerâld prepares for us. His main seasoning ingredients are herbs that he grows in flower pots set around the small balcony outside the door of his bungalow. The boy gets gishy-eyed when he sees the herb garden that Rick has in a south facing bay window from his breakfast nook and I asked my contractor if he could develop a window garden spot for Ģer. Ron told me to let him handle it; I was as pleased with the result as Ģer is.
    Ron lifted the decking of the southern most bungalow and fed fifty foot long four by eight, pressure treated beams under the building. The beams extended ten feet beyond the old deck and to them he created a hanging cantilever. Ģer has four steps down into a six foot deep greenhouse that hangs six feet below the deck and runs the entire width.
    The roof slopes away from the deck and the top is level with the railing around the deck. The glass panels are opened by automatic thermostats to keep the temperatures inside as constant as possible. John got in the act to run tubing from the solar heated water system around the glass enclosed room to maintain the temperature at night and on those few inclement days that we suffer in our part of the country.
    Ron is a gardener and knew how to build the proper space for all of Ģer's needs. Ģer was especially happy with the dark shelving that Ron included for the growing of sprouts. All of us enjoy a bowl of mixed sprouts and a favorite has become the broccoli sprouts, a flavorful and very nutritious treat. Bean sprouts can be added to many dishes and alfalfa sprouts sprinkled over food adds more nutrition. I like to have a bowl of sprouts with cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, cherry peppers, and jicama as a snack. A creamy dressing makes a good dip, especially the hand whipped kind that we have in our house.
    Ģe's first weekend home from our trip to Europe was the planting of beans and tomatoes. He has fifty tomato plants set on different levels along the east end of his new playroom. The boys love the miniature cherry tomatoes that they can pop in their mouths as a snack. The small fruit is perfect for a salad as they don't require cutting up. Tomatoes don't like the heat so they do not produce during the summer. With the greenhouse he is able to control the amount of direct sunshine that they receive, as well as the ambient temperature.

    We have added several new boys to the family. You were introduced to four of them in the last chapter and you met Hugh Murphy. I mentioned his friend's name to you, but I left Chet Hunter at home under house arrest while I took Hugh to France with the family.
    The family has taken Hugh in and it was time to see if Chet was ready to grow up and face his responsibilities. The boy hated me because I would not take him with us to Europe, but he did not deserve any sort of treats. Hugh knew better than to take off with the boy and his mother may yet be alive had he done right. It was Chet that cut his ankle bracelet off in violation of a court order.
    I worked with the court and with Chet's grandmother to have the boy move into my house. He is in a new room across from Jimmy and Cullen and he is alone at present. He still wears his ankle bracelet and he will until school is out. I have given him a very strict curfew and one single violation of any of my conditions will land him in a juvenile facility until he is sixteen. I know that is tough, but the boy is on a fast track to a life on the wrong side of the law.
    I allow him and Hugh to be together to study. I also allow them to watch TV together in the family room, but they only have one hour of private time in Chet's room after dinner. I am not going to suppress their sex life, but I am not about reward the boy until he can prove himself worthy of the family trust.

    I was as happy as spiked punch when I received a package from a bonded courier. I called for Marcus to come to my office and I sat him in my lap so that I could fondle him and stroke his very sweet meat for him. The boy is as healthy as any well cared for teenage boy. Absolutely no signs of any HIV was found in his system. Even if he had the disease at birth their would be antibodies in his system that would always be there. I am not sure which of us was the happiest at the news, but I was more than ready to let the boy run afuck of my favorite people, my family.
    I had another boy that had the same death knell sounded loud and strong in his ears. I am always ready to help a boy that wants to work to better himself, I won't give a boy anything. I had met the young man in Georgia as I pondered whether I should go meet Jimmy Watkins' grandmother in September of 2004. Ignacio Heathy—the boy in Atlanta—had run away from home and wanted no one to boss him around, he was a good head and I wanted to do more for him, but we parted ways the next morning.
    I began to think of the boy as we drove through Georgia to bury Chief Steve. I wondered where he was, was he safe, was he still on the streets? During the spring of 2006 I sent my friend Carl Dickson to ferret him out. I have to commend Carl, he found the boy after nearly seven months, but he found out that he was sick and he called me. He had the phone camera aimed so that I could see a boy that was so emaciated that it was a wonder that he could stand. I had a long telephone conversation with him and he told me that the street talk was that he had AIDS, or was at least positive. I sent the boy to a health care facility in Florida to be treated and recover his strength. After a year and a half of rest and good nourishment Iggy has sprung back to a very spry and healthy youngster of seventeen with no diseases, he was only exhausted and suffering from malnutrition.
    The two of us have talked at length over the telephone and I have agreed to help him with the condition that he lives by my rules. A driver had delivered him to the house just before I called for Marcus to come to me. I took both boys over to the dormitory and helped them find beds. I was pleased to see Iggy ask Marcus for a kiss and watch them embrace. I have a warm feeling for both boys
    I took the boys over to the classrooms and let them see the other boys in their classes. Next we went to the office where I asked both boy to take a battery of tests for us so that we could know where they needed the most help with their education. We placed both boys in the ninth grade class. So far I have had no physical contact with Iggy as I wait to see how he is going to adjust. The boy had been on the street for over four years, it will take some major readjustment on his part to make a go of school again.

    Having learned that his twin brother had been murdered and that he had witnessed the entire event I had to take Paul to the Child Protective Services—CPS—offices to sit down with a counselor and a police detective. As I sat in the lobby and waited for their meeting to end, I saw a beautiful, but severely withdrawn young man sitting in a chair in the corner. He had has legs drawn up into the chair and his chin rested on knees. His eyes were locked on me with an unflinching stare. I was enchanted with the boy and moved into the seat next to him.
    "Better not sit there, dude. I'm a fag with the sickness, you might catch it." My heart stopped. The boy was total beauty with ringlets of golden curls tight against his head. His piercing blue eyes were wet with the emotions that were at the surface of his very soul. He appeared the epitome of health with firm cheeks of a rosy red. His thin lips were red and moist, most kissable.
    "You look like you need a friend and most of all a hug."
    "Can't hug you, I'd give you the sickness. They'd say that you was trying to 'lest me if you did sumpin…"
    "I'll worry about them. If you would like a hug you may come to me. You can't give me the sickness with a hug."
    I was rushed by one hundred pounds of solid boy who stood around five foot one or two. He was in my open arms in a flash and I pulled him close. After a few minutes of warm love and hot tears I began to look around to see who was reacting to my PDA.
    The receptionist was sitting at her desk with a tissue to her eyes as the woman that assigns boys to me stood next to JC, all of them smiling at us as their eyes glistened with tears.
    "So, I have been set up, as usual. What's his story?" I called across the room. I learned that he was born HIV positive and believes himself to be gay. He feels that he is doomed to the monastic life of no sexual relationships in his future. He has been indoctrinated with the idea that even a hug or a kiss would spell doom to the other party. My mind was at work, but not in the way that anyone thought, not even JC.
    I asked Marcus for his greatest fears and regrets. He told me that he regretted the callouses and feared having more. I looked at his grin as he held up his right hand, "I ain't never had nobody, but him to love." I kissed the palm of his hand and told him that it was still very soft and smooth and seemed to be perfectly shaped to the job that he had been using it for. His lip drooped so I assured him that before the day was done that he would know the love of another.

    Candy Peters thought that peters were candy. She could give good head, for a girl. She had an abortion at fifteen, but still loved to go down on a hard dick. I could not blame her for that part, but she was sucking the cocks of some of the cutest boys in the school. Alright, I got most of them too. To a cock swinger I was told that I really knew how to give head. I never told them my trick. I could deep throat the most masculine, but it was my finger on their tight prostate that gave them their biggest thrill. Candy had long fingernails and the boys were not up to her stroking them, as if she would. Some of them asked her to trim her nails then do it; she told them that she would suck their dicks, but she 'didn't want any shit.'
    I sat down with JC and Mrs. Peters then I took Marcus with me and left. I introduced Paul to Marcus and the boys sat in the back seat chatting away like old time friends. I find Marcus very fascinating. Not because he is a hard bodied fourteen year old teenager, but because of his history of long term abuse.
    Before I took the boy into my home I had to check out a doubt that JC had shared with me. I only know enough about HIV to know that I don't want my boys to come in contact with the disease; however there seemed to be evidence that Marcus was not infected. Dr. William Hamm is in nuclear medicine and if anyone had the knowledge to work with this boy it is he; if he can't then he knows who can.
    JC was correct, Marcus does not even carry the basic virus for HIV. His mother is positive and Marcus may have had symptoms at birth, but none of his blood work has ever shown any positive results. Of course with the seriousness of the virus, I still had more tests to do that could not be done in one short doctor's visit. Will had plenty of blood samples from the boy and he would send them on to his colleagues for further work.
    I took Will aside as I shared with him JC's thoughts. Will will have to document every step of his testing very carefully because there may have been some tampering of evidence in the boy's case, and it had been going on for many years. Someone, somewhere, did not want the boy to have a normal life and that part bothered me, even more than I believe that it was bothering JC. JC had tried to get independent blood work-ups done, but he was being blocked from higher up. I asked Will to submit samples for a complete DNA check. I had a hunch, and my hunches are usually correct.

    Dr. Tip had been sitting in Will's office when we arrived; he had been nineteen hours in surgery and he looked it. I still had his boys at my house and I had talked to Shell two or three times, she was glad to see the boys making new friends. She told me that she had felt from the first time that she had heard of my school that it was the place for the boys to attend.
    I asked Tip how Shell was doing, knowing she has cancer and is terminal. Tip told me that he had the DNA results to prove that Pat was his son and that he was going to seek out an attorney to adopt the boy before Shell passed on. He told me that both Shell and Abe wish that she could adopt him. I looked at him and asked why she didn't do it. I learned that both of them were not sure about Tip's ex; he told me that she defined the name pig bitch.
    I looked at him and asked why he had not contacted Bull. He looked at me with that sort of 'what the fuck was I thinking' look. He knows Bull from college, he knows that Bull is my attorney; he just never thought about the man being the best damn child advocate attorney in the state. Bull is fantastic as a criminal attorney, but he shines the brightest when he is working with children. He has never let me down and to him I owe the adoption of over eighty of my own sons.

    I had been invited to speak at two separate events on family acceptance of Transgendered youth. I can speak for hours about gay youngsters and the ostracism that they suffer from those expected to love and cherish them as a part of their own lives—I have a problem trying to support she-males. Okay, so I seem hypocritical, but damn it, I love being a man and I don't like boys that think that they are girls trapped in a male body.
    You may remember a man that was found hanged in his cell at the county jail as he awaited trial for the life long molestation of his son Chad. Emil Koch had been a cross dresser since our days in high school and was eventually expelled from school and not allowed to return until he removed the make-up, cut his hair, and quit wearing very short mini-skirts—he wanted to be known as Emily.
    I once asked Emil why he dressed like a girl and he looked at me as if I were the one deranged. "God made a mistake and trapped me in this boy body when I am really a beautiful girl," he told me.
    I blew up and decked the faggot, "You should learn to know the Christian God, He doesn't make mistakes." I did have to admit to myself that Emil made a fine looking girl and if one didn't know him they would have thought that she was worth chasing.
    The oddest part of that shem's life was sher life's mate, Richard Jones, Exiter earned his name because he loved it in his exit. Some old queen out from Miami gave him the name after he took on six guys one night when he was fourteen. He couldn't get enough man juice. He wasn't into boys, he wanted men. He came to Charley's house every day looking for someone to fuck him or feed him, Charley always had a man or two staying over while they were in town. I have always wondered what attraction the two bottoms had for each other.
    I was glad that I was in Europe and unable to keep the two April second speaking dates. I love boys, but I can not handle fems or transvestites. Little Jason Russell giggled in my ear when I told him that I was glad that I could not attend my obligation. He has a fifteen year old friend by the name of Brett Jackson that wants to be called Collette. At six years of age the boy tried to cut his penis off with a pair of plastic scissors. He told his mother that little girls didn't have a penis.
    I should get over it. Everybody has the right to live their own lives. Who am I to judge anyone, I fuck teenage boys. I am aware of how the world judges me, but then I turn around and try to judge others from my viewpoint. Doesn't the Bible tell us… "Judge not lest ye be judged. For by the same standard that ye judge ye shall be judged." Probably not an exact quote, but close to it.

    The reason that I remembered the missed program was that Cameron and I had to make a trip to California for a few days. I have to admire the boy for his fortitude, there are not many people in the world that want to stand up in defense of the murderer of his parents. Lemuel Swanson had stepped in behind Mr. Langley and slit his throat.
    Lemmy was afraid that the other men on his run would discover that he had lived most of his teenage life posing as a girl. I have met with the young man and he is beautiful in a feminine sort of way. I usually only have an hour at most to visit with him, but the courts have been gracious enough to allow him to be transported to a place where I can fly in and out of easily and still have a secure place that will prevent Lemmy escaping.
    I have believed the story that I was told and I had it checked out by some of FI's best sleuths. Lemmy was cruising a popular street corner hoping to find someone that would spend money on him for his sexual talents. At a little bit past ten o'clock two other female impersonators ran past as they shouted that the police were after them. One of the girl's dropped something and like a fool Lemmy picked it up.
    From out of nowhere a police officer threw him against a wall and wrested the small packet from Lemmy's hand. It contained five grams of marijuana. Lemmy was convicted of possession of an illegal substance and sentenced to eighteen months in prison.
    Once on a yard Lemmy lived in constant fear. An older inmate took him under his wing and protected the boy, as long as he paid his rent by kneeling before his new daddy when asked to. When Langley came onto the yard he was well known to many of the men there. Some had been young victims at the type of parties that Langley frequented, some had availed themselves of the youngsters at those parties. Langley was instantly marked for death.
    Those that he had molested wanted him dead at once. Those that had known the man and molested alongside of him wanted him dead even sooner. Neither group wanted to be identified by the man. When word came to the yard that the hard dick wanted the rapists of his son, Darryl, dead the job was done instantly. Lemmy's husband sent the boy off with a sharpened piece of plastic.
    Waiting to kill Lemmy if he failed to do his job were two more youngsters that were eager to please so that they would stay under the protection of the more seasoned convicts. Lemmy knew full well what it was like to be a victim of the type of man Langley was. He has suffered long, ongoing sexual abuse from a neighborhood predator. By the time Lemmy was fourteen he had considered himself scum and his way of dealing with his inner demons was make himself subservient to the perversions of others.
    I had followed events around Lemuel very closely and I had spent many hours with Cameron, he had his mind made up that he wanted to stand up for his father's murderer. Cam and I slipped away to spend the final days of the trial . Cam stood up and gave a very powerful plea for Lemuel's life. He told the court how his dad had molested him all of his life and that he had heard in the court how the boy on trial had been molested in his youth and Cam said that he could understand the feelings that Lemuel had. Cam told how he had learned how other inmates forced youngsters to do their bidding and he felt that they had played on the boy's emotions and fears by making him kill, or be killed.
    The jury deliberated for two hours then returned a not-guilty verdict. That evening Cam and I went to see the boy in a rare face to face visit. Cam drew Lemuel out and learned that he wanted to go to college more than anything. Lemuel had finished his sentence of eighteen months for possession of five grams of marijuana, he had already been released by the state's prison system and with his acquittal earlier in the day he was being released from the system at once. I asked him where he was going to go.
    He was afraid to return to his old neighborhood where he would quickly fall back into his old life. I have a heavy summer planned for my family, but I took a chance on a fresh faced youngster that never had a break in his life and took him home with us.

    I suppose that I should have expected it, but I was totally floored by the audacity of the couple that had sought me out for a business luncheon. I had never stepped foot into the club where we met. The place makes pretentiousness require a new definition in the dictionary.
    Snooty? Naw, the pair of wannabes that sat at the table with me had their noses so high in the air that a passing satellite would clip their nose hairs. But their snobbery was not what turned me off the most. I find this hard to tell, even to you, and you know how much I value our time together. These people had the idea in their heads that I would sell them BAW. If I ever entertain the idea of selling my boys' school it will never be to the likes of those two degenerates.
    "Mr. Dickson, we can understand what a financial burden the operation of a private school can place on an individual. We have a large organization behind us with the funds, and the experience I might add, to operate a school, and make a profit for our shareholders," the woman who had consulted with Ronald McDonald's make up artist spoke.
    The man in a cheap off the rack suit added to the hilarity of our time together, "We are prepared to offer you one million dollars in cash and six million dollars in the form of preferred stock in our corporation. We will also include a ten percent bonus of each year's profits for the lifetime of our control of the school."
    There have been many millions of drops of rain that have fallen in my lifetime and I did not come down with any of them. I pride myself on being able to know what is going on around me and I had taken the time to check out the large organization that backed my hosts.
    I reached into my inner breast pocket and pulled out three sheets of paper that I had folded and placed there on the possibility of this kind of offer. "Well let me see here," I pretended to study the top sheet, "Your corporation seems to be in serious need of a financial shot in their bottom line, I don't believe that you have the funds to actually consummate such an offer."
    "Oh, I assure you that we are a sound and viable company with a large expected growth future," she said.
    "Your stock is listed on today's exchange as being worth one ninety two a share. Excuse me, I looked at that wrong, that's one dollar and ninety two cents a share. You have paid no dividends to your stockholders in four years and the NEA is investigating your CEO for insider trading in another of his endeavors."
    Both of them squirmed in their seats, "All corporations have their ups and downs. We have been in a little slump and are trying to put together a more solidified portfolio for our investors."
    "Suppose that I were interested in your offer, I feel an obligation to my students, so I would like to know what you will offer to them and to the school as a whole."
    "Well, let's not mince words here, shall we? We understand that there is a large percentage of homosexual students attending that school. We intend to bring in the finest psychologists to correct the thinking and lifestyles of those deviants. Those that we can not help will be known to us in a short time and we will expel them from the school and let them go their own way. Water seeks its own level Mr. Dickson, those kinds of people can find someplace to gather away from innocent children," Ms. Snob spoke in a loud voice.
    I was gritting my teeth, but I was having a little fun. Our conversation was being listened to by many others so it was time for me to take the stage. "First of all I would like to know why you feel that a paltry one million dollars and six million dollars worth of trash stock certificates could possibly interest me."
    "Well everybody can use money and we have made a very fine offer. You could never have such an opportunity to have such a sum of money again."
    "You are possibly correct in that statement. I would never look twice at such a meager amount. I don't believe that you have done any homework on me and you have done precious little on the school itself. Let me enlighten you and our audience." I waved my hand about the room, several people quickly returned to their meals.
    I mentioned that the club that we were meeting in was pretentious. The annual membership fee is ten thousand dollars and the monthly maintenance fee is another one thousand dollars. The club is not a country club with golf courses and swimming pools, it is a dinner club, period. No amenities of any sort. The food found at Jimbo's greasy spoon and vomit emporium has a better quality. I had been served a plate with a small piece of white fish, weighing less than two ounces, covered in a thick yellow sauce with strings of vegetables over it as garnish. The price on the menu showed this entree to be a mere seventy six dollars and forty five cents. That is pretentious.
    "I am going to allow you to look at my current financial statement and tell me how your offer could interest me."
    After a few moments looking over the statement, the man looked at me, "Nobody is worth eight hundred billion dollars."
    "You are correct; you didn't look at the bottom line on the last page. I am only worth eight hundred billion dollars in cash holdings, but my property and real investments brings my bottom line well over the trillion dollar level. I am the world's first, and only, trillionaire.
    "These pretty little ribbons on my six thousand dollar, handmade suit are not some sort of cheap jewelry." I nodded at the glass necklace of my hostess and the knock off Rolex on the man's wrist, these two were scam artists and I believe that they realized I had them pegged.
    "This pretty blue ribbon is the President's Freedom Medal, presented to me by his honor in person. Her Royal Highness knighted me in September of 2007. This ribbon here is the French Grand 'Croix awarded to me by France in October of 2007, and this ribbon here is for my knighthood in Romania, presented to me later that same day. This final red ribbon represents my knighthood in Munedavia. It was presented by King Cullen in March of this year. A week later the President of Russia pinned this medal to my breast to make me a hero of the Russian Republic.
    "I don't understand why you would not know this and why you consider such an offer as you have made. to be appropriate. Now tell me how seven million dollars is supposed to make my pee hot." I was met with blank stares from my hosts as people around the room stood up to see my ribbons and my face.
    "Now I am going to clue all of you in on the facts of life. The school that is at the center of this meeting is a school for gay boys. It is sanctioned and accredited by the state of Arizona as an all boys school for homosexual youth. The students at that school will never be subjected to the kind of programming that your deviant mind suggested, madam. Those boys have suffered enough abuse from people like you. A large number of the students at that school have been sent to me by the state itself and I now have sixty youth that have been temporarily sent to us by the state of California until I can build a school for them in their state.
    "I have been asked to build a school in this country's northwest. I already have a school in New York; there is one that just opened in Oklahoma. Texas is talking to me about a school there as well. I have schools for homosexual youth in St. Petersburg, Russia; Parga, Greece; Nice, France; Brighton, England; Mainz, Germany; and soon new schools in Italy and Cairo." That really got some eyes widened.
    "You have truly wasted our day. If you don't mind I am going to go find a real meal at my club." I rose to leave.
    "It has been a pleasure to meet you, sir," the man rose and stretched his hand to me. I looked at it as if he had covered it in shit.
    "I know that the pleasure was all yours." I nodded at the lady, "And you have been honored with my shadow. I believe that Groucho Marx said it best, 'I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it.'" I turned and walked out to my armored, stretch limousine. I had an FIS agent serving as my chauffeur du-jour.

    I received a call from a friend that informed me that the governor was making a surprise visit to the school. He had not learned of the personal inspection tour until he sat down before a computer in an outer office to check for a file he needed for his morning meeting. Someone had left a memo on the screen stating that Her Honor was in Tucson on a personal matter.
    My friend will do almost anything in the world for me because of the help that I have found for him in years past; he quietly asked non-direct questions and thirty minutes later he learned where the governor was. He only hoped that I had time to see to any matters at the school before she showed up. She had been gone for almost two hours.
    I have an electric cart at each end of the tunnel for emergencies, the boys know that they can play on the carts and ride them to their heart's content, if they hang their balls on the sharpened hook where the key is kept before mounting the vehicle. I was into a pair of slacks and shoes in record time as I ran through the house trying to hold on to my jacket and tie my tie at the same time.
    RD and Jimmy saw my dilemma and came to me to see how they could help, I asked them to go with me. They each grabbed shorts from the cabinets and slipped into tee shirts, still barefooted they ran with me to the theater and into the tunnel. One of them had my jacket so that I could slip my belt through the loops as I ran. RD drove as Jimmy turned to help me with my tie, he checked me over and told me that I looked good enough to eat as RD stopped the cart at the basement entrance of the dormitory's elevator.
    I gave each boy a kiss and a grope then sent them back to the house and their school work. Finals week is on us and the school year will be over before we know it. I took the elevator to the fourth floor and stepped off on the pretense of doing my own inspection. As soon as I stepped out of the elevator the security guards went berserk as they yelled at anybody and everybody that the governor's convoy had just entered the grounds.
    I could hear the band practicing downstairs, but I could not raise Matty. I called Andy and told him to do whatever it took to reach Matty and have him play the official Arizona state song. I used the old stair glide, where I ski down the stairs like a mountainside, then stopped at the second floor. I heard the band strike up the first notes of ArizonaMargaret Rowe Clifford and Maurice Blumenthal—as my ear bud announced that the governor was opening the front door of the dorm. I turned the last landing and came down the stairs with a pocket recorder in my hand as I, ostentatiously, recorded hand prints on the walls.
    I looked up in surprise and greeted the governor. She listened to the music and looked at me with a grin, "I suppose that if I were to surprise you I would have to drop in by parachute."
    "My people monitor all air traffic over or near this school, your honor." She shook her head; I offered to direct her toward the band room. She looked at the library as we passed through and made comments about the boys sitting in the personal study alcoves, heavy into their books. She took a quick look at the boys playing their hearts out for her then turned back.
    I don't find much to like in politicians, but I dislike any and all who don't take the second or two that it would require to smile at kids who try so hard to please. The boys had no idea who she was and they were not trying to impress anyone; Matty had directed them to play a song and they were doing their best to do it right.
    "Would you like to visit the classrooms?" I asked her.
    "Are they upstairs?"
    "No ma'am, they're in the other building; this is the boy's dormitory. The upper floors contain their personal quarters."
    "I'm sorry, I thought that the other building looked as if it were under construction."
    "We took down the old music room and cafeteria when this building was completed. We wanted to get a jump on building the new classrooms so that there will be some available for the fall term." We were walking toward the doors.
    "Fall term? I thought that the school would operate on a year round basis."
    "Yes ma'am, this year we will be taking the students to other areas for study as the construction gets into full swing on this campus."
    "What other areas, Chri…? I suppose I should use your title since you are Sir Chris to the world now. I read that you are even a Hero of the Russian Federation. Sir Chris, how many countries have granted you Knighthood?"
    I am sure that I blushed as I meekly said, "Four, your Honor."
    "Only four?"
    "Yes, England, France, Romania, and Munedavia, ma'am."
    "What about this country, and Russia."
    "The President placed the ribbon of the Freedom Medal around my neck and the Russian President made me a Hero, that's quite enough."
    "I understand that Germany, Italy, and Greece don't believe that that is enough." I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at her. I did not know that anything was still happening along those lines. I am about to ask for an exit visa off of the planet, or at least from society.
    I held the door open so that she could enter the main building, then directed her toward a classroom. She quietly looked inside the room that housed twenty five juniors hard at their computers as their teacher walked amongst them in his lecture. She pushed the door closed and looked up at me.
    "Sir Chris, I didn't come to inspect the school, but you." I looked her in the eye. "May I see your house?"
    Every word had been recorded by Andy's people through my open lapel microphone. Andy spoke into my sound bud, "I am on the phone, the boys are ready, the tunnel is secured."
    "I live up the hill about a quarter of a mile, would you like to walk up or I can have security bring the electric carts, parking is scarce at the house."
    "It's a pleasant morning, let's walk." The walk was probably the best; she had many questions and asked her people to stay well back from us so that we could talk. She mainly asked about the school and the ages of the boys. She seemed excited when I mentioned the number of boys in the elementary grades and asked me to give her their ages.
    When we approached the boy's playground I pointed it out to her and she wanted to walk through it. She turned to her escort and called for a Colonel with the state's highway patrol to step forward. "We will be alone now, I am quite safe with this man so pull your people back, far back." She had spotted what she wanted and she headed straight to the table under a small ramada, out of the sun.
    I asked her if she would like a cold drink, she looked around. I took my phone out of my pocket and asked her again, she nodded. Edmund had to have been waiting at the door as it instantly opened and he stepped out with a tray in hand. I instantly recalled Asce with his little silver tray. Edmund was wearing a tuxedo and carrying a tray with a carafé and two glasses on it. A few steps behind him Red followed with a cart containing an insulated cooler with a stack of paper cups.
    Edmund served the governor first then he served me. She took a look at the pink drink then smelled of it, I turned my glass up and took a long drink. She took a sip and swilled it around in her mouth before breaking into a wide smile.
    "With the warm weather the boys like cold drinks, they are children and they like sweet drinks, but I have to help them to watch their sugar intake. If you can imagine more than three hundred hyper active boys you will understand. This punch is my own recipe made up with one hundred percent pure apple juice, Kool-Aid, and water. The fruit juice is mixed with water in a two to one ratio, that cuts the sugar back somewhat. To give the boys the various taste treats that their pallets demand we add different flavored Kool-Aid, to the boys' preferences.
    "A regular sized can of apple juice is poured into a two quart bottle, a small package of drink mix is added, then the container is topped off with water. The container is stored in the refrigerator to get icy cold. Many of the boys take their individual water bottles with them to their rooms and to their study times. No food or drink is allowed in the classrooms or at the computer study area." That was not entirely true because many of the boys had cold drinks with them as they studied in the house.
    "It is good, and refreshing. I like the idea of fruit juice as opposed to other drinks. I don't think that you will get rich from this idea, but it is very, very good. Now, to business…"

    I could have gone all day long without her business. I was visibly moved by her story, but when a social worker came to us with pictures, I just held them and let the tears run down my face with no abandon. "Sir Chris…"
    "Please ma'am, just Chris. All of my family calls me Chris, or dad."
    "How about the boys at the school?"
    "They are my family, ma'am, everyone of them is my son. Some I am just fostering, some I have legally adopted." She sat there and stared at me for a long time. I re-filled our glasses and chugged mine before re-filling it again.
    "I know that your mother is very proud of you."
    "She died when I was twenty one. I left home when I was seventeen and she never knew the kind of person that I would turn out to be."
    "Did you leave home for the same reasons that some of your boys did?"
    "Well, yes and no. My parents never knew that I was gay, my father died suddenly when I was sixteen, my mother never got over losing him and she passed on right after I finished college at the age of twenty one. I left home to live in that house across the street with my friend Charley, right after I graduated from high school."
    "Child protective services tells me that you don't serve meat to the boys at their meals. Why is that?"
    "Ma'am, most of us believe what the Bible tells us. God never intended that man should eat flesh. We were created to eat the "herbs of the field and the fruit of the trees as our meat". After the flood there was no vegetation for a season, God had commanded that Noah take into the arc fourteen of each of the clean animals, two by two, the male and female after his kind.
    "There is animal flesh available at every meal for anyone who wants it. We quickly learn what every boy likes and our cooks prepare foods for him. We take great effort in making sure that if a boy chooses to eat flesh that he is not chastened by the other boys. Diet is an individual choice and no one's choice should ever be forced on another, any more than another's lifestyle should be forced on a person.
    "All of our cooks have worked to learn the best vegetarian recipes to prepare; the meals are well balanced in protein content and carbohydrates for a growing body. We severely control all processed foods, such as sugar and flours, only whole grains and raw grains are offered, as far as possible. We stress fresh fruits and raw vegetables with every meal, and our desserts are made with whole, fresh fruit with little to no sugar.
    "Meat? If God didn't make us to eat it why should we? We do have cook outs for the boys as often as possible and we get the boys to the malls or out around town every day or two. One of the first places they hit is the old hamburger stand, but they usually purchase fries and milkshakes with an occasional burger."
    "Is that true with your very young boys? How many did you say there are?"
    "We have twelve boys twelve and under who attend the elementary school a mile from here. Yes, I own the controlling interest in that school also. We have had some recent birthdays so our youngest is now nine years old. Today we have eight boys ten or under, but we have a birthday tomorrow and one this weekend that will advance two out of that category. My stepson and one other boy will turn eleven very shortly and the last ten year old will turn eleven before school starts next fall. That is going to leave me with only three precious little ones."
    "You don't seem happy at that."
    "I don't want any of the boys to grow up. I love kids and I love watching them at their studies and at play. When they grow up they leave the nest and go off into the world. They will have children of their own, but it won't be the same ever again. Sure, they'll visit, but the kids won't come to me with skinned knees and snotty noses, or questions about the secrets of the universe…"
    "You like that, don't you?"
    "I never realized that that is what life is all about."
    "You will find new boys to raise."
    "I am not going to take more boys into my house. The school is there, there is a dormitory there where they can live. I will cherish every minute that I have with the boys in my house now. My wife and I have a boy that is thirteen months old and we have another son on the way, he is due in September. I will cherish them as long as I can."
    "You mentioned a stepson and now a wife; you are married? Does she live with you?"
    "A woman would go screaming balmy in my house. My wife lives in that house across there. She lives there with her aunt, and a cousin, who is married to the first of my adopted sons. She had a boy from a previous marriage and I have a natural son who is sixteen. That makes two and a half boys of my own plus a stepson and a whole lot of adopted boys. And guess what, I love every one of them equally." Well, not so equally, but I didn't need to go into that part.
    "My wife is having a difficult pregnancy, but we can go over, if you would like to meet her."
    "Maybe later. Chris, you are not answering my most important need. Will you take Simon?"
    "He's eleven, but he looks so small and frail." I looked at the folder in my hand. The pictures were tearing at my heart.
    "He has been starved for his entire life."
    "Do you think that his parents being vegetarians is the reason?" I wasn't liking the way she had presented her case.
    "No, you did not hear all that I told you, Chris." I hate a condescending woman and she was taking that tone with me. "His parents used food as discipline with all three of the children. One of his sisters has died and the other may never leave the hospital; her little body was so malnourished that her brain could not function. Simon is the lucky one, he is the middle child, but somehow he got through the abuse. He has been in hospitals and foster care for two years and he is growing.
    "Chris, malnutrition in a child is frightening." As if on cue the boys were running down the street toward the house. I stood up and called Salman to come to me. I placed my hand on the back of the governor's hand and asked her to remain silent.
    "Hey dude, how's school?"
    "Oh, my sweet dadee, I love the school, it is so good here and I thanks you for making me to be able to go to here." I raised his shirt and rubbed his belly, making sure to turn him where my guest could see him.
    "You run on home and see what Edmund has for an after school snack, I may bring this lady over to see all of you in few minutes."
    "I found that five foot tall boy chained to a wall in a pitch black cell in the dungeon of a castle on a mountain top in Romania. His own father had chained him there and was starving him to death. He was drinking his own urine, off of a filth encrusted floor, to survive. He barely weighed a total of forty pounds. His tiny body was so thin that his every bone showed through. His belly was distended as the final days of the lad's tortured fourteen years of life ebbed closer.
    "His mother had fallen out of grace with his father and he killed her, and her infant daughter, in front of this boy. He was going to starve the boy to death as further punishment to his dead wife." The tears were pouring down my face and my body shook with the hatred that I held for my deceased enemy. Oh how I wish I could dig him up and kill him again. I pray to be able to forgive that creature I look at the wonderful boys that I have with me because of him and I praise my Lord, but the feelings that I have toward Murat are not nice.
    "I held that boy in my arms for days as I spoon fed him clear broths and prayed over him constantly. I know what malnutrition can do to a child. I have sixteen of his half brothers in my house that were starved by the same father. Salman is just the worst one of them.
    "I am scared for Simon, it sounds as if he needs plain old simple love, but we are a little different type of household and I don't know that we would be the kind of influence that he needs."
    "I told you that he is gay."
    "How do you know that an eleven year old child is anything?" I almost snapped the words out and she flinched. "He is too young to have a label placed on him. If you would like to go to my house with me right now I will call a family council and ask the boys what they want to do." Cory was pulling up to the house with the munchkins. Perfect; their vote will be the decider.
    I passed the pictures to Jimmy and asked him to quickly scan them then led the governor to granite house to meet the boys. Edmund had fresh coffee to go along with the prune Danish, I needed the sugar fix. Jimmy had the pictures on every monitor around the room as I told the boys Simon's story. I looked at the governor several times to be sure on a point or two, but she nodded for me to continue.
    Cullen ran down the table with the marble boxes and each boy took a white marble from one box and a black marble from the other then laid the two glass balls on the table in front of him. I grabbed Cullen's arm and made him stop as I introduced him to the governor.
    She had risen to her feet the moment he came into the room; she had recognized him. She bowed low and Cullen gave me a look, ladies should curtsey. I directed him on with his duties, but decided to play snob. I asked for Arif to come to meet the governor of the state then I introduced Cory. She felt honored to meet a King and two crown princes at one time, and in their private home to boot.

    The ballot box made its way around the table and stopped in front of me, I asked her honor to do the honor. She looked at me then lifted the lid of the box and looked inside; there were all white marbles. "If there is one black marble in the box the answer is no." She pushed the marbles around... all white. I called for the tiny trio to come to me then lifted them up to kneel on the table before us. They looked into the box then threw their tiny arms around me.
    Simon is older than they are, but he is about their size, from the work up that I had been shown the boy is functioning about their level so they will be grouped together in the beginning. I don't need anymore boys.

So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction?
Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com
PREVIOUS    HOME    NEXT

50% of all donations go to NIFTY
to support their fine work.