Chapter 222


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.

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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.

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    I appeared at the headmaster's office of the school where the reputed boyfriend of Hikmat Klein attended as a student. I was treated with honor and respect. I was shown all of the boy's work and told how brilliant his professors thought him to be. I asked to visit those professors. Upon leaving the headmaster's office we were joined by my colleague, a sharp protegé of Randy Hobbs.
    The boy's professor were eager to show us what was being produced by a very bright student at their school. My colleague was very excited himself. He examined each program on each of the nine computers running them. He smiled at me and we left the school for a lunch break without meeting the boy himself.
    Andy was buzzing in my ear, "Chris, you stumbled on the lodestone. You won't believe the…Holy shit!!! Chris…man hold onto yourself. You found the source code of one of the most widely used identity theft programs coming out of Russia today.
    "Chris this is spyware central. You have stumbled onto a master program to detect user's keystrokes…"
    "Fine, Andy. Tell me, did we find the source of the web sites?"
    "You found the master template for the sites. The routing from the school will take a very long time to trace, maybe two hours or more." I chuckled at his very long time.
    "So next step? Do we burn the computers or confiscate them?"
    "Take your laptop to the headmaster and set us up on video conference. I am going to check with my people in Washington and London. I will have your answer before you return from lunch."
    "So what makes you think that I am not eating lunch. I might have me a meat pie or a nice catch of fish and chips."
    "Watch out for hooks in those fish," Andy was gone.
    I like a spicy horseradish and ketchup cocktail sauce on my fish. I was making do with malt vinegar, tasty but lacking the zip. "Andy startled me in the middle of taking a bite of a very thick piece of Atlantic Cod that was so good, "Orange…19…31…12 clear MI-6. Conference classified, headmaster only." He was gone again.
    A suspicious car was in the car park next to my armored SUV. No words were spoken. A thumb set at just the proper angle on the steering wheel at the 1315 hrs. position as I got in to my ride said everything. I drove to the campus. I had contacted the headmaster's office to leave a message that I was very interested in meeting the young boy. I told the receptionist that I know his uncle very well and it would be an honor to meet him.
    I parked my ride in the VIP car park. Without looking I watched two Rainbow trained officers of Scotland Yard step out of the suspicious car. I headed to the administration building alone and inquired at the office of the headmaster. I was shown in immediately.
    I waited until the door was shut and the headmaster was in his large chair behind his desk, "May I sit my laptop on your desk? I have something very interesting to show you." I punched up the program and turned the screen toward the man then sat back. I could hear, but I could not see. What I heard was good enough, what I saw was the expression on the face of a staunch educator that had been around since the Arabs produced our number system.
    A few highlights of what I heard prepared me for action. "…these are a danger to the Commonwealth and we will take them down. With your cooperation we will purge all of the computers on your campus and check all network ties.
    "You will invite the boy into your office to meet Sir Chris and he will be arrested. Don't cooperate and every computer in your system will be electronically destroyed in an instant…" That was enough. The headmaster was unprepared for anything like that. He pushed the button on his desk and asked his secretary to send the student in.
    The headmaster was standing beside me when the door opened. A tall dark haired occidental boy dressed in a school blazer and tie stepped into the headmaster's office. When the boy saw me his face showed fright or flight as his eyes darted from side to side. The two Scotland Yard officers stepped up behind him and pulled his arms behind his back before handcuffing him. As he was led him away I picked up my laptop and asked the headmaster if he would like to join me at the computer lab.
    A team of uniformed FI agents followed us in. They directed the students away from their computers as five technicians sat down at keyboards around the room. The only words spoken were from behind me as the headmaster quietly told his staff what was going on.
    Fifteen minutes later the technicians began to rise, all except one. The others gathered about him to peer over his shoulder. The designated leader of the group plugged his small case into a USB port and began to type on a hidden keyboard. He nodded at another technician to plug into another computer and link to the one he was on. I smiled inwardly as everything that the techies had found was being routed through a FOSEEC unit and it would never be available to anyone again.
    Ten minutes of eerie silence held everyone in awe as the men moved about their keys with expertise. At last the three men began to disconnect their equipment and left the building. The head man came over to me. "All of the students' files are intact and we are sure that nothing was lost." He looked at the small huddled mass of professors that had gathered from throughout the building, "We are sorry for the intrusion. The viruses have all been removed and your computers are clean." He nodded then turned and left.
    I had watched the frightened students gathered in a group of their own. Occasionally a brave soul would slide over to a professor to ask what was going on. No one knew. I decided to spill the beans.
    "Ladies and gentlemen, some of you may know who I am. I was on TV two days ago as Her Royal Highness held a sword against the side of my head.
    "We discovered that this computer system held the source code for some of the world's most invasive spyware. The code for these programs was streaming from here to sites around the world day and night. My people have just removed all of the code and residuals of those programs. These computers have been cleaned as well as other computers around the campus that are networked into here.
    "Programs have been installed that will detect a recurrence of any of this invasive software. We now have the source code and our computers, buried deep underground somewhere in America, will be able to monitor all WWW traffic in search of it.
    "We were extra careful not to disturb your work. We do not want to be responsible for you not making the grade," a few snickers, "ladies and gentlemen, I apologize very deeply for the interruption of your class. I will bid you farewell now." Suddenly I was mobbed with kids holding out sheets of paper as they sought my autograph. I was very careful not to sign a blank sheet of paper, I wrote a personal note to each student and shook twenty five hands, I even kissed a few.
    I stepped out of the lab and found two FI men standing at attention at the door. I nodded at them and headed for my ride to my chopper and some rest at El's house before my return the next day to Tucson. I had to wonder how long it would take for the boy to face a judge.
    The face of justice is swift and certain in England. The boy had turned eighteen during the summer, by English standard that made him and adult—the age of majority being eighteen, sixteen in Scotland. He would face his charges as an adult and serve his time in an adult prison With the evidence we had gathered he would be looking at several life terms. It was November 2, 2009, I had very few precious days to put the wraps on Camp Christopher and coordinate transportation for more than two thousand boys across the big span of water between them.

    Pete showed me the nuts and bolts of the newest fifty point five million dollar—factory base price—FI-2. Of course with the electronics package that Andy's men installed in him he costs quite a bit more. Gulfstream had used the honeycomb Kevlar batting as an insulation, but they were reluctant to use the polymer coating. I suppose that it is for the best. The only times that FI-2 would be vulnerable to ground fire would be during take offs or landings. Those take place in secure areas, don't they?
    Pete showed me that the new bad boy is reputed to cost in the neighborhood of two and a half million dollars a year in fuel consumption. Another million a year is normal for insurance and maintenance; ground crew and hanger costs fit in there somewhere. I was almost about to become a consumer, like the masses, e.g. you, the reader. My stock of aviation fuel that I purchased before oil prices went orbital is quickly disappearing.
    I bought and stored, thirty million gallons of the high octane pusholine for use in all of FI's aircraft. I built storage tanks for five million gallons at Base A, Base B, Tucson International Airport, and Tahlequah, Oklahoma. I put ten million gallons at Liverpool, England because that seems to be our busiest base. Andy placed all of that fuel off limits for anyone to use except me. With the amount of flying back and forth that I am doing the reserve stock is shrinking.

    At home everything was running like a well oiled machine. I took a slow walk through the dormitory to greet each boy and visit with the floor monitors as well as the head boys. I was happy to hear that there had not been a single argument amongst the boys. Even amongst those that let their tempers flare from time to time.
    Next I had to find Edmund to see what he was working on. He was in the kitchen of Granite House baking bread in the large ovens there. He had twenty hot loaves of rye bread to take out of the oven. That sounded good, but I wanted something special to wash it down with. I went down the front entry into the wine cellar and stopped to look. In the corner was a pickup truck load of pumpkins, all about ten inches in diameter. They were too small for Halloween decorations, but a good size for making pies.
    I went down the stairs to the large coolers where we keep cold snacks and drinks for the boys. After rummaging around a bit I finally found a drink that would just make the hot bread, at least in my mind. Maybe others will think that hot rye with a slice of cheddar cheese and a bottle of guava, papaya, and pineapple juice is a weird combination…Sometimes I go for weird. I get a craving for something and I get it, even if I have to send a jet to Shanghai for a bowl of soup. There are somethings in this world for which there is no substitute, or explanation.
    Edmund looked at my juice then picked up a large glass of cold milk that he had poured for me then drank it himself. He smiled at me, he had a milk mustache. Sometimes even older men can have fun.
    The cheddar cheese was at the main house. Edmund carefully wrapped a hot loaf of bread in a large tea towel then walked over with me. That walk gave us the opportunity to visit. I told him of my Christmas plans then suggested that he might take the eight weeks to visit with his family in New York.
    Edmund set a cup of coffee before me and a bowl of something new. He told me that it was a cheddar cheese spread that he had been working on. He told me that it was my favorite extra sharp cheddar cheese, packaged under a large grocery store's label—I don't care for the extra sharp cheese that some of the more popular national labels produce. To me they are too sharp. They are good with beer and captain's wafers. but I do very little drinking. That does sound good, Kraft extra sharp cheddar, four or five hot pickled Polish sausages, a stack of captain's wafers, and two or three beers from the tap. I have too many responsibilities with the boys.
    By the time that I had finished my first slice of the, still warm, bread Edmund had moved a two slice toaster to the table. He cut two thin slices of bread then placed them into the toaster before he picked up his cup of coffee. I swigged down the last drop of my juice then sat back. The toast popped up and Edmund grabbed a hot slice then smeared a little of his cheese spread on it. He offered it to me. I took it with a 'thank you,' as he quickly put cheese on the other slice of toast.
    I looked at my toast to see the cheese melting evenly over it. I took a bite and quickly added a new taste to my favorites folder. Edmund loves food, more so he loves to create new food combinations that are nutritious as well as tasty. He super blended cashew nuts with a few sunflower seeds and a small amount of the oil from a package of tofu. He then slowly added an eight ounce package of finely shredded cheddar cheese, about six parts to one of the nuts and oil. The end result was a very tasty cheese spread that had all of the taste of the original cheddar with very little taste of the nuts and oil.
    I asked him why he had to add the nuts. He politely informed me that cheddar cheese does not lend itself to smoothness. The nut butter handled that problem while adding very little of its own flavor to the mix. I don't care about all of that really, all I care about is the great new taste in my taste bud data bank.
    Next Edmund thanked me for the offer of eight weeks off. However he would only be able to take four week for his New York trip. He had my curiosity aroused, I had to ask what he had planned.
    "Well, sir, young Mitchell and I would like to ask you if we could spend a few weeks at the beach. We would like to stay at cliff house, if it is available."
    "For you any place I have is available. But first you will have to feed the turkeys a turkey dinner."
    "That, sir, will be an honor and my privilege. Young Ģerâld and I have a very fine menu planned for the holiday. Sir, forgive me, I don't know that I ever knew or if it has simply gotten lost in all of the dusty bins of my mind. Do you like the American version of mince meat pie?"
    "If you are referring to chopped apples, raisins, and currants in a thick rum sauce with five or six pounds of cinnamon, then yes. It has always been a favorite of mine. I can only find the small jars packaged by Bordens around Thanksgiving time. The box of dehydrated mix was my favorite because I could place it in a pan of rum and slow cook it until all of the alcohol was cooked off. I liked to add more raisins as well as extra cinnamon to the mix.
    "I thought I told you about the pie that Mable Howell served to Sean and me during our second visit to her home two years ago. She filled a deep dish pie crust with about one inch of pumpkin pie filling then tops that off with mince meat then bakes it. It is best served ice cold with plenty of whipped cream. My waist line did not approve, but my mouth loved every bite."
    "I only just discovered that recipe in a file that Jimmy left for me. I didn't know the origin, but the pie sounds good. I planned to make the filling from scratch. I will make that pie just for you."
    "Make plenty, the boys will love it too. Do you have help to prepare that huge pile of pumpkins in the foyer of granite house?"
    "I have to stand guard with a heavy cleaver in each hand. The boys want to carve them into Jack-O-Lanterns. That season is past.
    "I have ten boys that want to dig out the seeds and roast them. They have promised their help in preparing the gourds for pies in exchange for the roasted seeds. I feel it to be a fair trade off."
    Turner and Craig came to the table with a tall stack of perforated tractor paper. I keep a dot matrix printer online for some of our work, they had found a job for the printer.
    Turner placed the stack of paper on the table while Craig came to me and encircled my neck with his arms. "Hi there, K-night. You still got your ears?"
    "It's have your ears doofus," Turner moved to me. "I love this K-night. May this lowly commoner have a kiss from your lofty heights?"
    "I will show you lofty heights, youngun."
    "I am ready. It has been a very long time. Craig would like to see the stars too." I looked at his paper pile. "That can wait for an hour or so. Your room or mine?"
    I ran my hand over a fine, firm ass. Nineteen year old Turner has grown into a magnificent young man. He is reputed to have a long line of girls vying for his attention at the university where he is a second semester freshman. He is planning to declare his major in computer science.
     His main member pointed toward the staircase. I turned to see Craig pointing as well. From my seated vantage position I would be a fool not to get to the cream before we headed upstairs.
    With balls is each hand, and hard, ready cocks alternating for a hot time in my mouth, I was at peace with the world. Craig seemed cocked and ready so I worked him for my first load. I moved my hand from his jewel box and moved it to his firm butt. Craig is blond haired, all over. His tight cheeks have a very fine dusting of downy hair on them. The hair enhanced my passion as I let my left hand roam the field. I managed to run up and down in his deep crevice before he let loose. I used my exploring hand to hold him tight against me, I wasn't about to give up his thick load.

    As this was happening with Craig, Turner was rubbing his knob across my face. I was remiss to let Craig loose from my efforts, but I was anxious to get to Turner's hard member. He has grown considerably in the five years since our first meeting on the highway. His body has stretched to a tall five foot eleven inches. The skinny little kid with the large Jockey Briefs' stuffer now carries one hundred and seventy six pounds on his frame—ten pounds of that is in his eight inch uncut boi part.
    The moment that Craig pulled his sensitive cock from my mouth Turner replaced it with his own. I had to slow him down. He was eager to release, I was anxious to savor. I was truly enjoying Turner's meaty morsel when Craig slipped under the table and in between my knees to do a bit of nursing of his own. That only added to my stimulation of the tasty morsel in my mouth.
    So shoot me, I do have favorites amongst the boys. I must rate Turner right up there with Chrisy, Jimmy, Cullen, and my Core man. There is no comparison to Cory, he is my man and always will be. I suppose that it has something to do with the circumstances under which I found each boy. Cory was in need, Chrisy was in great need. Jimmy, bless his little heart, he just grew on me. His story is tragic, but you would have to know the boy to understand.
    Jimmy is an innocent in a world of sin. He has his quirks, but he is pure love. I have Cory to thank for solving a problem with Jimmy. The guy is so much in love with me that he could not function out of my sight. Cory could see that. It is easier for him because he is not as attached or involved with the boys on a personal level as I am. Cory quietly drew Jimmy and Cullen to my bed and we had an instant match up, one that has only grown stronger over the past two years.
    I will always love Chrisy. That mighty midget won my heart deep in the heartland of America and he has never let it go. He is married to Timmy, and the two of them are deeply in love, but I know that they both love me. Timmy not so much as Chrisy. Timmy is very career minded. He is attentive to his spouse and loves him deeply, he also loves his job. Did I tell you that he is now a Lt. Col.? He get promoted faster than some people change underwear.
    Cullen is just Cullen. What is not to love about that bouncing bundle of boy? The day that El swept into my house and deposited the little fop is a red banner day in my life. Cullen wasn't in need, sure he was hiding for his life, but he had food and shelter, a good home, and a good school. That is not the point with him. He crawled into my chest, took over my heart and that is where he will always stay.
    There is nothing that I can say about Cory that I have not already said. I am a sucker for child in danger. Cory was in danger. He proved himself to me and entwined his heart around mine. I was slow to see it. I had hangups about long term relationships with underage boys, Cory became the exception.
    Another of honorable mention that can compare to Cory is Eric. What a pitiful sight he was huddle behind those garbage cans wearing his cousin's jeans that were two sizes too small for him. Eric was seriously underage and I never gave him a lot of thought from a sexual standpoint. I love him…just a tad more than some of the other. Of course I can not overlook his little stepbrother, Gus. What an innocent waif he was. He and his cousin, Gomeric have turned their corner of the house into little Bavaria.
    That brings me back to Turner, you know the one that has his fluffed up cock deep in my throat as all of these memories flash through my mind. He was a pitiful sight standing in the middle of the service station driveway cursing at a man that was driving away I took pity on him.—A side note: At the time I had no idea what Andy was capable of. His security company was in its infancy, but he he was developing his connections. The man that stole Turner's underwear was a serial pederast with warrants in four states. He had a wide assortment of used boy's underwear in his trunk, some size four.
    I was seeking boys, that is true, but I was also frightened of the long arm of the law. Seeing Turner standing there in that driveway triggered something in me that I will forever be grateful for; he set me on a path of locating boys in need and providing them with a home.
    Turner spent a memorial night with me in Traveler©. We were between the steady roar of the rushing waves and the incessant roar of freeway traffic. It is still a night which we will always remember. I have to hold off for a minute, I think that I am about to receive my reward.
    A tasty reward it was too. Neither boy had deflated in the least as they ran up the stairs before me. They had to wait at my door for me to put my thumb and palm in the correct position on my door handle. Once inside we slipped into a love nest. Craig mounted Turner in a sixty nine and turned his ass to me, I stabbed it with my pole.
    Craig has never had a lot of endurance, sex wise, he was satisfied and rolled to the side to sleep. That was fine with me and I heard no objections from Turner as I ate his ass out for twenty minutes.
    I said it before and I'll say it again, Turner is one hot little item. He may be nineteen, but he is still very desirable in my books. I have no idea if it is because of our past history or if he is just plain fucking sexy as all get out, but I was really enjoying myself with him.

    Turner was excited. He and Craig had been pouring over our data base from the previous two years as well as checking with area churches and family centers. They had complied a list of five hundred needy families with children under eighteen.
    I want to help some of the older families without children as well. The country is in a full blown recession, the powers that be deny that. Many experienced workers have lost their jobs. Home foreclosure is at an all time high. I wasn't there, but I believe that the home foreclosure rate now is many time higher than it was in the great depression.
    Turner was showing me his list as he pointed out the needs of each family. Suddenly I had an epiphany. School was over for the day and the boys were coming down from the games room. Their first order of business was food, Edmund had that covered with hot bread and soup as well as an assortment of fruit. I asked the boys to gather their snacks and follow me to the dormitory at BAW.
    I called Tyler and asked him to gather all of the boys into the cafeteria for a brain picking session. Sometimes I get so proud of my boys that I could just take them and squeeze the beejeebers out of them, this was one of those times. I laid out my basic plan and boys around the room dashed away to quickly return with their laptops or written lists. They had been working.
    Alvin was first to wave his papers at me. He was proud and he had a right to be. "Dad, there are three families on the list from last year that have little girls six to eight years old. I used to have a neighbor with a little girl that age and I remembered that her favorite toy was an old metal doll house.
    "I want to give these three little girls something that they can play with for years to come. Look at this, this is a wooden doll house with wooden furniture. The dolls are cloth with life like hair. There are no plastics, which makes it better. I have purchased each little girl one and have asked that it be delivered no earlier than Christmas week. It will be boxed and wrapped so that they can't see it until Christmas morning."
    "Who did you say the doll house was from?"
    "Why secret Santa, off course."
    "Were they expensive?"
    "I got a discount by ordering three. They only cost me three hundred and forty two dollars, with shipping and handling, each."
    "Is the manufacturer going to invoice you?"
    "No, I paid for it with my debit card. They are all paid for, dad." I was proud of him.
    Arthur led the football team with the next round of news. They had purchased an assortment of metal trucks for seventy boys ranging in age of two to eleven. They made sure to get age appropriate trucks and purchased at least four for each boy.
    For the boys age twelve and up they had done some research. They discovered what sort of games the boys liked to play. They purchased complete sporting equipment for each boy.
    Some of the boys don't go out for sports and they were a little more difficult to find gifts for. Spies set out to find out what books, movies, and music those boys liked. Each boy will receive two hundred and fifty dollar worth entertainment in keeping with their choices.
    I was so proud of the boys that I was almost speechless. Then a group that I would never have thought of doing such a thing showed the house their gifts, for girls. Barbie dolls with a complete trousseau and a car for three hundred dollars are always a favorite with the younger girls.
    For the older girls they were going to order makeup kits that were age appropriate. I looked at them cross eyed and they told me that their sisters and cousins always like to fix their hair and paint their nails…and stuff. They had located a company that sold water based make up and nail polish. I suppose that secret Santa might get away with that. I only hope that there are no arguments over the makeup kits.
    Older girls were easy, so they thought. Leg warmers, hair brushes and mirrors, music CDs, a pair of very expensive designer sun glasses, and posters of boy bands seemed to be their idea of gifts for them. I suggested that they spend a little time with the girls at BAG. That made a few of them nervous.
    I asked about the adults in the families. They told me that they had already started assembling food boxes, they were waiting before adding the perishable foods. I walked up to Jordan, "Does your dad like to receive a gift on Christmas morning?"
    "Of course he does. He always says that I shouldn't have done it, but I know that he likes it."
    "My case exactly. Adults will never ask for a gift, but they love to get them. There is something magic about a personal gift at anytime. I would like each of you to research a few families and learn what mom and dad would like to have. Something small, something personal.
    "I have an idea for the big part. During your research find out what the family status is on their home and utilities. Are they in foreclosure, are they behind and being threatened with foreclosure. Do they own their home, but are strapped for spending cash. Everybody is suffering during this economic downturn, find out how much they are suffering.
    "Boys,…I am going to share something with you. Some of you know that I have been investing money for you since you first arrived at this school. Each of you has in his possession a VISA debit card with a large balance on it." I pointed out the college boys that were beginning to filter in and find themselves food. "All of us in this room now control over one point three trillion dollars in cash assets."
    I waited for the numbers to soak in. Some of the boys looked at one another and mouthed, 'trillion?' others just sat with their mouths hanging open. "Boys we have more money than the national debt available to us. We owe it to our country to help those in need. We can not give them cash. Cash could destroy them. Many people are in the position that they are in because they do not know how to handle money.
    "We can't pay their credit card bills, that would only leave them free and clear to go run up new debts. While that might help the economy a little it would hurt them in the long run. I am going to get with a few trustworthy people at the electric, water, and gas companies. I think that a great gift will be to have their utility bills paid for the month of December.
    "I have been purchasing mortgages for two years. Maybe there are a few on our Christmas list that would benefit from that. Maybe a few of the families have a car that is on its last legs. Will fixing the car help them or do they need a different vehicle? I am not prepared to buy them all a brand new car. Some of them would sell it, or take out a loan and spend the money incorrectly.
    "I need your help to research this out for me. There is a small group on our secret Santa list that I am going to help in a special way. I am talking about the senior citizens. Many of them are in poor health. Social Security and their pensions are not providing enough money to meet their needs.
    "On Christmas eve I am going to have a bonded messenger deliver a special secret Santa gift to those folks in the form of cash. The amount will depend upon their needs, but somewhere between three and ten thousand dollar in twenty dollar bills. They can spend the twenties for groceries or buy gifts for their grandchildren. There will be no record of the money on either end so there will be no loss of benefits, such as food stamps or reduced income from their pensions.
    "That is our secret, Santas. That is just for us to know. Some of the families on your lists may benefit from a small cash gift. You will do the research, I will make the final decision."
    "Dad, er…uh…like you…er…"
    "Say it, I don't bite, very hard, but I never chew." That broke the ice.
    "Some of us were wondering, will I was wondering. How much money are you worth anyway. You are always spending. You fly to England and all over the place, you gotta be richer than Midas."
    "Midas was a piker. He could not touch anything but what it turned to gold. He could not even eat. There are many billionaires in the world today. Many of them live very quietly so that no one knows much about them.
    "Some of the billionaires are philanthropists that give millions of dollars to the arts and to research. I choose to live quietly and spend my money finding and educating the boys that will be the men that will lead the world in a few years.
    "You want a dollar amount? I believe that at this time my personal wealth is just over four hundred billion dollars. That does not include the monies that I hold in trust for many of you. That is money that I have earned through judicious investment, mainly in oil and gold futures."
    "Chrisy said that you showed him a balance sheet on your computer one time that said you were worth two billion dollars. How did you get so much more?"
    "The same way that I have made you a millionaire, Cal. You came to us as an incorrigible homosexual predator. You had nothing but the clothes on your back. I invested a sum in your name and I have worked your account for more than two years. You are worth quite a bit of money now.
    "I believe that it is wrong to discuss a boy's finances in front of others. There will always be someone hurt because he doesn't have as much money as someone else. I have invited you to sit down with me so that we can discuss your portfolio in private. Very few of you have chosen to take advantage of my invitation. I do mean it, you are welcome to come to my office to talk with me at any time. You may have to wait until I finish the business that I am involved in at the time, but I will see you."

    That meeting set all of us on course for our secret Santa program for 2009. After talking to the boys I get the impression that they enjoy giving as much as I do. For the first time in their lives they have everything that they ever wanted. They have more cash to spend then their parents earned in two years of hard work for hourly wages. They have shelter and food. They have an abundant wardrobe—but they seldom use it. They all gave me the impression that they felt as if it was time for them to give to those less fortunate. All of us feel very strongly about our privacy. Our secret Santa program would be a bust if anyone learned who we are.

    I asked the boys to provide me with a list of whom they wished to invite to the school for Thanksgiving dinner. We had abundant space between the cafeteria and the library, if necessary the boys could take their families down to the auditorium for a little privacy. Being the eternal optimist I held hope that at ;least one family would reconcile with their son.
    I may have told you the difference between an optimist and a pessimist once before. Whether I did or not here it is again. A pessimist hunts for Moby Dick while carrying along a few tuna fish sandwiches. An optimist hunts for Moby Dick with a barrel of tartar sauce and a fork.
    Thanksgiving Day was an absolute hit with everyone. Over one hundred parents came to sit down with their sons and enjoy a good meal in a neutral atmosphere. There were no arguments, but there were a lot of tear and hugs. The boys greeted our guests with music from their hearts. They stood against the walls of the cafeteria and sang quietly as their families began to arrive. Many mothers had to rush to sit before her son as he sang only to her.
    When it seemed that everyone that had been invite had arrived the boys sang out with some of our favorite tunes from our Paris concert. They stood in place and sang a capella through three numbers after which they quietly moved through the cafeteria to sit with their families.
    The boys were reserved yet anxious as they sat down. They did not know what to expect. I every instance that I saw their families embraced them with warm hugs and kissed on their cheeks. Mothers wiped tears from their son's eyes, as well as her own. I had to return to the house for some paperwork that I had left the printer to finish. As I returned through the tunnel into the sub-basement of the school I took the stairs up to the cafeteria. When I passed the auditorium I heard crying so I looked in. Benny and Freddy Holt were in a group hug with their mother as the tears flowed freely.

    Mrs. Holt saw me and called me over. "Mr. Dickson, I have to thank you. My sons have never been so well behaved and polite in their lives. They have really changed. They like the school and wish to remain here. I am not physically able to take them home, but we will leave that up to you."
    I sat down in the seat next to her, "Mrs. Holt, Bradford Academy not an on again off again school When the boys came here I informed you that we would house, clothe, and feed them until they graduate from this school with honors. They are both doing quite well. They are both excelling in their class work. They are both popular with their classmates and the staff. They are both participating in minor sports activities, which we require to keep the body in physical condition.
    "I am not ready to run them off. They each have a few more years of study before they can walk across that stage up there to take their diploma. They will have earned that piece of parchment, and I hope that you are sitting right out here with a proud heart and tears in your eyes as each one makes that walk in his own time.
    "You need not concern yourself about taking them home and finding room for them. I do hope that you are open to their visiting you overnight from time to time. They both need to know that their family ties are in tact and that they are not alone in this world."
    "Well, I was going to Chicago for Christmas, but I guess…"
    "MOM! Christmas is our biggest holiday here. This year we are going to the mountains and we will see all of our friends from England and France."
    "You go to Chicago and have yourself a great visit with your sister. This year we are going to stay in the State for Christmas. We are bringing all of the boys from all six of my other schools here for an eight week holiday. Your boys would resent not being able to be here with us." She seemed relieved that she didn't have to take the boys for Christmas. There is still a lot of healing to do in that family. Time is the great healer.

    I drifted past the serving line and helped myself to a slice of white meat turkey on a spoonful of sage dressing then smothered it in gravy. I was taking a spoonful of jellied cranberry sauce when Edmund waved a piece of his pumpkin-mincemeat pie under my nose. I had totally forgotten the pie. I won't waste food so I took both plates and found myself a table.
    "Oink, oink. Snerk, snerk. Snarg,"
    I turned to Cory and Roddy, "Is there something that you are trying to say?" They were looking about the room and pointing to different boys with their parents. I didn't feel guilty, Thanksgiving day is the one day when one is expected to eat until one is miserable.

    Food boxes were everywhere. I was invited to Tim and Jerry's house for coffee. I will never turn down a chance to visit those two married boys. Upon entering their house I was amazed by the number of food boxes sitting in every space large enough to hold them. The boys invited me to sit for a minute so that we could talk. I had a few questions that I wanted to ask them.
    They had news of Tim's mother. Tim had presented his evidence to the local prosecutor's office for investigation. The prosecutor took the information to a Grand Jury which, in due course, returned a true bill. Mrs. Mark was arrested for child endangerment, on going sexual abuse, and child abuse. All in all there were thirty two counts charged against her.
    Tim flew down to give his testimony in the State's Superior court before a jury of twelve people. Mrs. Mark was found guilty on all charges. She was sentenced the last week of November of 2009. Jerry held Tim's hand as he told me that Tim's mother received a sentence of ninety two years for the sexual abuse charges. The charges of child endangerment and child abuse gave her twenty years, each. Those sentences will be served concurrently with the greater charge. She will be eligible for parole in 2069.

    The were anxious to show me some of the things that had been placed into the gift boxes. I had to step back and look closer. The college boys had come up with something that made the boxes unique. They had added small puzzles for the kids during car trips. They had added little toys to occupy down time that were suitable for any age. Each box contained a simple scratch pad with a pen tied to it. There were books of simple short stories good for any age.
    In addition to those little personal items the boys had inserted two, two hundred sheet, college ruled, three hole notebook paper. There were subject folders as well as two spiral notebooks and a three ring binder. There were packages of ball point pens as well as pencils. There were all of the little things that cost families so much such as a protractor, a compass, twelve inch ruler with gradients in both inches and millimeters.
    I had to applaud the boys for their foresight. These were little things that most people don't think of when one says food box. These boxes were special. Of course there would have to be a second box for food, but we don't care. Our sole ambition is bring small about of Chiasmas cheer into the lives of complete strangers.
    I shared the college boy's idea with the students at BAW, suddenly there was a mass exodus to their cars for a trip to the mall. Boys without their own car, that could not get a ride any other way, were begging Cory to take them to the malls. I suggested that they go to some of the various office supply stores around town. We have six of the large national name stores located within five miles of the school. They thanked me and began seriously beg Cory. The van that we have can carry fourteen, plus the driver, it was filled up almost instantly. Cory was nice, he scheduled a second trip for more boys.

    I had to let the boys know how much I loved them. "Boys I can use your help," I told them at a special meeting in the old wine cellar Tuesday night. "Camp Christopher is almost ready to host the students from the other schools.
    "I had the opportunity to check with the staff of all of the European schools; boys we have thirteen hundred and fifty guests coming to Arizona in two weeks. There are some things that need to be done yet. I don't know if all of the light switches work and if all of the toilets flush. I need to have every bed checked to see if it will stand up to two hot and horny boys going at it on them. It would be awful for a bed to collapse right at the heat of the moment, you know.
    "The cooks need to check the kitchens to make sure that the stoves can cook the food and that the dishwashers can get the dishes clean. All of this requires a hands on type of inspection that only you can help me with.
    "I suppose that the most important part is checking to see if the horses are strong enough to be ridden. I think that if each of you rode a horse twice a day for two weeks then we would be safe to allow our visitors to ride them. Will you help me?" The wine cellar is acoustically dampened so that a whisper can be heard by those nearby, and further away by those with excellent hearing. It is not dampened to keep the shouts of four hundred happy boys at a decibel level below one hundred.
    It was not even dampened to subdue the disappointment when I told the boys that they would have three hours of study each evening. In order for BAW to maintain the status of a private school there have to be a certain number of days that the boys attend. Our excursion would take place at the end of the semester and finals. There are many agencies that scrutinize the boys grades; any falling away and we could have trouble with a capitol T on our hands.
    I told the boys to pack for two months because I didn't foresee any that we would return to the school before the new year. That brought about more shouting. I will need earplugs before I go deaf and need a hearing aid. I told the boys to pack plenty of heavy blue jeans and warm shirts. I know that they will need flannel shirts which I would order ten gross of the following morning.
    I suggested that they pack heavy boots, a few boys said that they didn't have none. I told them that if they could learn to use the correct word then I would help them to acquire proper footwear for hiking and for riding the horses. They yelled, "ANY" at me. I smiled.
    I asked each head boy to paint a student's name on his luggage. I appointed them the duty of seeing that the luggage was packed neatly into long trailers that would carry them to the camp. We don't want any boy to have to go naked now do we? That, again, got the requisite laugh.
    There was something that I dreaded. The first winter that I had less then a dozen boys in my house life was simple. We didn't get out into the bitter cold with the snow and ice. The boys selected nice dress style leather coats for themselves. This time I would have to purchase four hundred heavy coats, with hoods, for the type of weather that can blow up in those mountains. I hope that the weather is mild, I have thirteen hundred and fifty boys coming for an Arizona winter vacation, but I have to be prepared.
    Wednesday we did a replay of our October first trip up the mountain with one change. I told Cory that his balls would be hanging on a stick like a carrot for the other buses to aim at if he touched the horn controls. I turned back and told him that the same would apply if someone else programmed the horns for him. His eyes fell, but he agreed. Tough love is hard on parents, especially if the child is your lover.

    I don't care how careful a contractor is, there is always something that gets overlooked. With a rush job as big as this had been it was inevitable. Ron and John took Little John and Norman with them to fix anything that the boys might find. A lot of simple repairs were needed. It was good to have experienced contractors on site to make everything right. Everything was right by the end of the first week—three days long.
    Arty had ten years of his life scared out of him when he flipped a light switch that sparked and popped in his face. Every light in that end of the building went out and he was yelling for somebody to help him. I was the first to find him. I was prepared for something like this to happen so I had a flashlight in my pocket—a real flashlight folks.
    I held a very frightened boy in my arms. Let's face it here, a light switch making a loug pop and throwing sparks at a person is frightening enough, but to be left in a strange place, alone and in the dark, can put the bravest of souls at ill ease.
     Little John was quick to reach us. He had a tool belt on and used his tools to remove the face plate of the switch. He removed the switch from the wall then cursed. He showed me the problem as he disconnected the wires. Somebody's ass would get a pasting over that dumb mistake. Whomever had wired the switch had tied the green ground wire to the output wire leading to the light fixture in the small room. Had the room had two doors then a three way switch would have been installed and the traveler would have caught the problem in the beginning.
    Little John used his radio to call John to tell him to reset the breaker and standby He touched the hotwire to the load wire and the lights came on. Little John told John that he was going to the truck for a new switch. He asked me if I could stay and make sure that nobody touched the hot wire. I was glad for the time to talk with Arty.

    "Arty, how are things going for you. Are you happy here in Arizona?"
    "Chris, I have never been happier in my life. This is a great school and I am learning things that my old school never even thought to teach. the kids are great and I have really made a lot of friends."
    "How about your love life? Is that going well?"
    "Karl is the best dude that I know. You taught me that I am in love with him. I used him for so many years and I am sorry. Yes, I have told him so too.
    "Chris. both of us have messed around so we now know that we love each other and don't want anyone else in our lives. I really believe that Karl loves me as much as I love him."
    "How do you feel your grades are?"
    "I am getting the best grades in every class that I have ever received before."
    "Why do you think that is? Are the classes too easy for you?"
    "No, heavens no. These classes are a challenge to me. I have to work my rump off to make the grade, I don't mean the, like grade thing, I am talking about doing the course, uh keeping up with the work…"
    "I know what you mean. So the subject matter is a challenge to you, yet you are still turning out perfect papers. Your tests are always the top of your class. Your instructors tell me that you have become the standard for the rest of the class. You are really keeping a few boys on their toes.
    "That can be a good thing. It can also lead to frustration to a boy who struggles to get a B with an occasional A. I have a proposition for you. I believe that you are aware that some of the boys sit in my house to study their lesson via the computer each day. I believe that you have proven yourself capable of that next step. I will warn you now. If you thought that the course matter in class was a challenge you will be blown away with the virtual curriculum.
    "Most of the senior class is working on post-graduate college level subject matter. The junior class is now moving into junior and senior year college classes. I am not talking about every subject, only specific ones where a boy shows an interest. Especially the applied mathematics classes, and some physics. The subject matter is up to the individual student.
    "Would such a program sound like something that you would like to participate in?"
    "I would like to try."
    "I'll tell you what. Let me have you sit down with a few different boys and let them show you what they are working on. If you are interested then when we return to the school after the new year then we let you attend the virtual classes. I will tell you now that the self discipline involved in virtual study is tremendous. There is nobody looking over your shoulder to make sure that you are doing the work. With some of the courses it may take a few hours, or even overnight, to receive a response to a question. The college level classes are notorious for that. Some of those professors have several hundred students from around the world logged in to their class."
    "I would really like the chance to prove myself, Chris."
    "I hope so, Arty. So far you have done a little above average, overall. I am talking about more than grades here. According to your transcripts you were a star athlete. Stacy, Tristin, and Karl all rave about your prowess on the gridiron. You were a trophy winning wrestler and a champion diver for the swim team. Yet you have not participated in any sports activities here. Why?"
    "I'm not good enough."

    Hold that thought, Little John just returned with a new switch.

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