TRAVELER
Chapter 99

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.
    The next week seemed to crawl by. I finally had the call that I had waited anxiously for. The Traveler© caravan would arrive Tuesday the twenty seventh. I made several dozen phone calls to put all of the pieces into play, at last.
    Boys appeared as if by magic as the three large vehicles rolled up the drive. The name, Traveler©, was now part of the grill work in twelve inch scroll style chrome letters. The only recognizable feature of the vehicles was the air horn array on the roofs, all three roofs. I could see the end bells of twenty four air horns on Travel All©. A gift from the builders. As if they had not done enough already.
    The color scheme of all of the vehicles was the same that I had ordered for Travel All© Along the bottom of each vehicle was a bright stainless steel panel extending the entire length of the vehicle and around the back, rocks and dirt would not pit that protective plating. The center color was a broad swosh shape of cobalt blue. The stainless steel chip panels were cut to allow the full curve of the swosh. The rest of each vehicle was of the composite material that was painted in an iridescent blue gray which seemed to turn to a hint of red then to a reddish tan. I kept moving about as I watched the colors change.
    I stepped back and realized that the boys, too, were moving about to watch the different colors. The exterior was remarkable, but I wanted to see the finished Travel All©. The back panel was entirely covered with stainless steel, which would make it easy to keep clean and without pits from abrasive road film and other garbage that banged against it as the big boy raced across the nation's highways. Prominently displayed in the center bottom of the panel was a custom Arizona license plate that read, Travel All©. The whole panel raised, as one unit, on hydraulic cylinders to lay flat and up above a wide access to the rear engine compartment. I drove a car in England that had been loaned to us by Cullen's father that was smaller than the power plant of this beast of the road.
    I had Pete and Harry with the company representatives so that they could learn all they could about daily maintenance of the new vehicle. Two weeks earlier I had the pair go to a series of defensive driving classes for large vehicles, they would be the drivers of the bus. I had to test out the seats so I climbed up inside. What a surprise, the inside of the extra long bus smelled just like a new vehicle. With my height I would not be able to travel well in the smaller seats. I asked some of the larger boys like Cas and Eddy to try the seats. Eddy found them quite comfortable. I hadn't considered that, I was glad.
    "Eddy, I uh, well, I didn't think about you. Are you sure that you can get comfortable? Pete is going to be driving this bus and I was going to put you on here as a passenger so that you two would be together."
    "I'm fine, really. Look, I can stretch out."
    One of the engineers stepped on board. "Ah, good, you found it. You said that you were going to have two drivers on board at all times. They will need to be able to stretch out and get some rest when they are not at the wheel. We were able to get extra leg room for these front two rows of seats and we only put in full sized double seats here. You can't have a cramped driver try to get back behind the wheel, not with the value of the cargo I see out there. I assume that these are the passengers that you bought the bus to carry? This will get them there safely."
    I was impressed by his words. They had tried to think of everything. I hope my family doesn't get so large that I need a fourth vehicle for the kind of trip I have planned for the boys. But if I do I know who will build it for me.
    "Sir, we do have something we need to show you on the other two vehicles," the man told me. He led me to Traveler©. "This old boy has some pretty good miles on him. He has held up well, but we thought that in light of all that you have done for us that we might do something for you." He raised the wide hood over the front of the vehicle's engine compartment and released a lever that allowed the wide chrome grill to slip forward and upward on the same type of hydraulic lifts as are on the back of the bus. I had to hold my breath.
    A new engine had been installed. It included Cory's design for the reused grease heating system and a holding tank. It is the same engine as the bus, but without the electric motor. Traveler Too© also had the new engine with a larger tank for the french fry grease. Both Travelers© now had the six speed automatic transmission, with overdrive. These boys were going to move along quite well. I had told the crew during the demonstration of the engine that I put the Travelers© through their paces at over a hundred miles an hour for several hours at a time. My guide told me that they had done a shake down on the way down from their plant east of Buffalo that morning. All three vehicles held a steady one hundred and forty miles an hour with a super smooth ride.
    A modified gyro controlled suspension was retrofitted to Traveler©. He wouldn't take the entire package without a total rebuild, but his ride would be notably improved. I had no problem with his ride before, but if he could handle a bit more like his young brother, Traveler Too©, I would be grateful.
    I noticed new stickers on the lower part of the drivers windshield. I looked at them and saw oversize permits from Arizona. My main contact at the plant had anticipated my concern with the length of Traveler Too© and then when I ordered a stout tow hitch to be added he got to work. Andy helped him and he contacted Bull to put everything into place without my knowledge. I can legally pull a twelve foot trailer behind Traveler Too© and a fifteen foot trailer behind Traveler©, Travel All© can also pull a fifteen foot trailer.
    He asked me to sit behind the steering wheel. At once I noticed the twin five inch color monitors where the rear view mirror would be in a conventional vehicle. I looked to the left. Running down the post at the edge of the vehicle were two color monitors in a straight column. A nine inch monitor was in the line of sight for the right hand outside mirror. I love it. Two different angles from two CCTV cameras showed everything behind. One camera could be pointed back down the road and had a powerful zoom lens to see whatever might be coming up from the road. A camera was mounted on top of the side view mirror mounts to show a wide angle to each side of the vehicle and another camera showed the front so that no one could be up against the bumper, such as a kid on a bike. No blind spots on any of my big blue boys. And what I liked most is that the monitors were placed in a natural position, just exactly where one would look to see behind them in a rear view mirror. Before changing lanes the driver would check his side mirrors for traffic, but now a small vehicle couldn't be hidden from view where he could be rolled over the top of.
    Cory was playing with the control panel. I could not see the display from the driver's seat, but Cory was showing the view from each camera on the forty two inch plasma monitor attached to the bulk head at center cabin. The large screen was purposely mounted to prevent the driver from being distracted and looking at it instead of the road. However, a camera mounted to look forward would make for a perfect virtual driving experience. I may have to play with that some time soon.

    We all needed a break. Since Thanksgiving it has been one hassle after another for the entire family. Kids are resilient, but except for Gus and the four little guys we no longer have any kids in our house. I suppose I am not really being fair to Eric, Kenny, and Ricky by including them in the little guy classification. Theo and Curtis are the only innocent kids we have in the house and they are working hard at shaking that image. Gus is everyone's little brother and is hands off. He gets upset sometimes, but somebody tickles his fancy and he is okay again.
    Sometimes I want to strangle the boys, they just have to call each other names. Names hurt, so badly, especially for the younger boys. Gus is a sweet, small boy. His little face always has a look on it as if he is about to break out in tears, which makes it difficult for me to know when he is sad or he is his normal self. His hair is just over the top of his rather largish ears, that helps to break up the long, oval shape of his face. His mouth is small which gets him teased about not being able to suck cock. Gus is game, he shows that he can suck the thickest cocks in the house with no problem. As long as he instigates it I let it go, but it is fun to watch him slide Jeff's monstrously thick man meat down his throat. He always has to work at it, but once he gets around the head of matters the rest follows nicely. What bugs me is that he is now known as the blue eyed kraut. Granted, he has a very pronounced German face. If I did not know his lineage I would be able to guess it in an instant. Personally I think it is sweet. I have let the boy sleep with me, and I do mean sleep. I enjoy holding him and letting him pour out his little heart to me. He is going to be a real winner as he ages. I am already amazed at his development. I don't subscribe to the old adage of hastening nature along by playing games early in life, but at eleven years of age Gus has a nice three and a half inch cock, and he loves to top. He is a hungry bottom, but topping makes him feel grown up.
    Eric has made himself part of the big boy group out of an impassioned desire to be a good big brother as well as my son, and he has succeeded. Kenny has seen more shit than a child his age should. Ricky has allowed himself to be used by older men and as a result he has had no childhood. Well childhood, maybe, but his adolescence and pubertal years were… I guess, given away. They weren't taken from him by any means, unless one considers what Seth did to the boy.
    Seth loved Ricky for the sex. I have lain with Ricky and let him talk. At first I tried to avoid all sex with him, but he has needs so I have conceded to mutual hand jobs. We both have to lick up the mess we cause the other to make. I get a real kick out of licking a boy clean after he has masturbated, or been masturbated. He is ticklish and sensitive, but eager. I can find places on his young body where a little cum might be hiding and go for it, much to his delight. Before too many weeks went by Ricky was just like the other boys in the house as he begged for a few minutes of my personal time. Of course I didn't help matters by fucking the shit out of the boy as he stretched out across the hood of my bright red Corvette as we parked beside the road, in the open, in broad daylight. Damn that boy is a good fuck and eager as hell. I want to see him spend more time with kids his own age and I am so glad to see the relationship between him and Theo. Surprisingly that romance has lasted more than six months, a record in our house for the younger boys.
    Ricky tells me that now that he knows love and what a real relation is he wishes he had not gotten with Seth. He doesn't blame the old man. He went to Seth on his own. He was the one who first approached Seth in the park and sucked the old man's cock for money. To find out that Seth was Jay's grandfather was unexpected. Ricky let his youthful lust rule his head and Seth is such a letch that he grabbed the chance. That kind of hit home with me too.
    Seth is the kind of man that prey's on boys. I only hope that I am not such a person. I try to search myself each day as I come before my Lord and earnestly seek those areas in which I might be using a boy. I don't know how someone else may perceive me. I have myself convinced that every boy in my house and those that I have just fucked along the way, have benefitted from our relationship on a mental, no, spiritual level. I don't believe in the old four F mentality of so many males. —Find em, feel em, fuck em, forget em.— That is wrong, period. If I can't love a boy and make him happy with what we have done I need to be shot. I pray that no boy ever leaves my bed with regrets over what we have done there.
    I suppose I have too much compassion. Is that possible? Can someone care too much? I love lads. I truly love them, not just lust for them. I love a big dicked kid fucking my face with his balls bouncing on my nose and his juice spewing down my gullet. That is lust. But I really hope that he feels the love I have for him after he gets past his passion. I always lay with a boy afterwards and let him cuddle to his heart's desire. I have never had a boy fuck me and leave me since I was in high school.
    That was a rough time for me when I first figured out who I was. I loved Charley and I was blessed to have a man who loved me. Charley taught me so much. I tried to fuck up the best thing to ever cross a boy's life in my youthful eagerness. I started seeking the really cool looking jocks and dudes out. I learned real quick that just because a guy gets a hard cock and will let you go down on him that it is not from love. Guys just seek release and most every guy will let a queer blow them if they are sure that they won't be discovered. Their male dominance genes kick in making them feel superior as they shove their manhood into the sucking mouth a fag boy.
    I was fifteen years old. I had only just learned how great boy sex was. I let Charley show me the way and I wanted to share everything with every boy I saw. I tried to have a relationship with Tiny, but he moved away just as we discovered our love for each other.
    I had a great friend in Randy Koch and his little brother. I shared a lot of cum with those guys and loved every drop of it. My awakening was from the self centered ass holes at school that would hang their dick out of their fly and let the little fag boy suck his load. Then he would put himself away and ridicule the queer as he walked away without a care at all for the needs of the one who had just pleasured him.
    I was fortunate that I did not allow that to happen, but a few times. Another fortunate event for me was that within a few weeks of our encounter I would have that dude on his hands and knees taking me up his ass and begging for more. I can honestly say that I never sucked a dude's cock that didn't come back for more and give more than he got. Lucky? No, I have the personality and the chutzpah to pull it off.
    Two short weeks after I sucked my first straight jock, he was in bed with me. He caught me in the hall and pushed me into an empty classroom. He wanted more head, I told him that I had someone waiting for me, but if he wanted to go with me I would give him the kind of sex that he only dreamed about. He was reluctant, but lust won him out, especially since I had my hand down the front of his jeans while I played with his dripping cock head.
    I had Charley drop me off at my house. I explained it all to him later, but I wanted no interference as I broke my first virgin straight boy in and made him mine. He was six feet of muscle, most of it between his ears, but he had a nice sized cut cock and a tight looking butt. I used my charm to get him naked and on my bed. I lay opposite him with my cock pointed at his face then began my oral attention to his raging manhood. I had him so lustful that he was ready to take on the entire football team, at the same time. My first finger probe went all the way home with no lube or spit. I knew that I had me a closet fag boy.
    I began to finger fuck him with two then three fingers. When I started stroking his prostate my cock went to the back of his throat. I fucked his face hard and fast. I took the top and began to ram my cock down his gullet at full speed, but when my load moved I pulled back to fill his mouth with his first taste of another's jizz. I pulled my cock out and covered his face with a copious load then I took his load from him. Before he could recover his breath I was between his outstretched legs and up his butt.
    He screamed for more as I fucked him for a half an hour, and pumped another load out to land across his body. I filled his ass with my baby batter as he spasmed out a very impressive third load in forty five minutes of total play time. He called his mother to tell her that he had to cram for an exam the following day and that he was going to stay up with me all night to get things straight. It was three o'clock in the morning before I let him fuck me. Actually I had to beg him to fuck me. He is still a wild bottom. I write to him quite often, he is in prison for twenty six years for sex with his neighbor's sixteen year old grand son. Granny caught the boys going at it in her basement. She didn't take to well with the idea of a twenty year old having sex with any boy, but her innocent grandson was too much. The grandson is gay and he was missing his boyfriend during his visit to granny. She sent him home after he was molested. He liked that, he was back in his boyfriend's bed the first night.

    I have fifty six young faggots in my keep. Plus twenty young men over eighteen that live near me, but are on their own, so to speak. I have lain with each one and opened their hearts, sometimes by force. I have made them pour out to me all of their fears, phobias, and passions. It is not always easy to get a boy to talk about himself. They want to, but they have learned from society that it is not proper. Fuck proper. Get it off of your chest dude. Talk to me. Tell me what you hate. Tell me what you fear. Tell me what you love. Tell me what you dream of.
    Life has been good to me and I am in the position that I can help a boy to live his dream, for the most part. So far I haven't been able to arrange for Jim to play golf on the moon. He has this dream of playing against Tiger Woods and making a universe class putt for the win. Truth be known the little faggot wants to play with Tiger Woods. His room is lined with pictures of a young Tiger. The boy's heart was crushed when he learned that his Tiger was getting married, to a girl.
    The overwhelming desire that I have found in each and every boy in my company is the deep heart felt need of stability, consistency, and acceptance. If a youngster is ridiculed and does not feel accepted for himself he will not let his inner self shine outwardly and the world will loose a little bit of light that each person in creation has to offer.
    There is no one who has ever walked the face of this planet that does not have a purpose in the grand scheme of things. Each person has to feel their own worth so that they can release that which they have been created to provide. I am greatly troubled by world events and how one person, or even government, feels that they can force others to do their will.
    I have just spent four grueling months making sure that certain people have that message deeply instilled in their psyche. Now I am of a position that I can reinforce their learning processes. Heaven help them because I won't.

    For the next step I have come up with the biggest break ever. The engineers had gone and I put the boys to work. No one yet had any idea of what I had planned for them Thursday morning. I put my old traveling companions Trevor, Turner, and Alec, in charge of cleaning the cavernous underbellies of the Traveler Trio©. I put the boys with smaller bodies under the big rigs. Armed with pails of hot soapy water they did a complete clean of the shelves and freezers. There was no mildew in any of the freezers, but I wanted them sanitized just the same. I put the older boys to pulling out the ATVs and motor cycles. I ordered oil changes all around with new spark plugs and complete electrical system inspections. I set crews of boys to removing every piece of linen, towels and clothing inside. I had the mattresses brought out into the warm sunlight, all of the chair and sofa cushions, everything that could be removed I had removed.
    Mitch oversaw a group of older boys with a power steam unit as they cleaned the mattresses, chair, and sofa cushions and even the bed pillows. One more crew got the job of washing the washables. I asked that all curtains, sheets, and blankets be line dried for that air fresh smell. The carpeting was deep vacuumed and shampooed then everybody was made to stay out until the carpet dried. Edmund provided large flow fans to blow fresh air across the floors to help them dry quickly in the high humidity. I don't want any mold or mildew to get a foot hold and where we were going there is the chance of a lot of moisture invading the interiors. My main concern was the gallons of old boy juices that had set up residence in the carpeting. Traveler© had taken on an aroma that hardened cocks twenty feet downwind.
    With everything spic and span I had a barefoot crew in each Traveler© stowing the linens and putting mattresses and cushions back in place. We would go inside for some quiet time with our family then I had other work to do the following morning.

    Boys were labeling drawers and storage bins under all three vehicles as they each stowed their clothing away. I had everyone assigned to a vehicle, even the new boys. No one knows what I have in mind, but they have learned not to question because I have never let them down. I worked out a seating arrangement that I would have followed to the letter, without discussion. If I had an error we would work it out, but for the present I wanted to wrap up the work at hand. This is the way I have placed the boys onboard.
Traveler Traveler Too Travel AllTravel All continued
Timmy 1
Tim 1 - Jerry 1
Frank - Jace
Isaac - Edgar
Joey - Specs
Izzy - Josh
Hector - Marvin
Howard - Vincent
Edmund - Mitch

1Driver Traveler
Cory 2 - Chris
Luke 2 - Ģerâld
Cas 2 - Tyler
Jayson - Brad
Chuck - Biff
Borne - Ray
Derrick - Jim
Tim - Sandy
Christopher - Shane
Al - Greg
2 Driver Traveler Too©
Pete BUS - Eddy
Tran * - Damien
Trevor * - Steven *
Alec * - Evan *
Cullen * - Cecil *
Art * - Chad *
Jeff * - Mark *
Jay Jay * - Lew *
Mike * - Les
Dallas * - Zane *

BUS Driver Travel All©
Harry BUS - Toby
Branden * - Vic *
Bryan * - Donny *
Kenny * - Ronnie *
Ricky * - Theo *
Craig * - Rusty
Adam * - Turner *
Sean * - Kyle *
Curtis * - Eric * - Gus *
Lance - Jan *

* Fifteen or under
    I have done my best to couple the little fags with their current squeeze. I have no desire to nip a budding romance. I have a fourteen hundred mile trek to make and we will all need ball juice to keep us strong along the way.

    Two large refrigerated trucks pulled in beside the Traveler Trio©. I had boys stationed to transfer the loads to the boys in the under cargo holds. I gave Pete and Cory one copy of my order form so that they could check off each item as it came off of the trucks. I directed the boys to carry their boxes to one of the three Travelers as they removed it from the back of a truck. In less than thirty minutes we had twelve tons of frozen and canned foods stowed away along with staples, commodities and condiments. I had thirty gallons of milk and twenty loaves of bread stuck in wherever the room could be found. These two items I will have to buy daily for this small army of walking talking appetites.
    The boys were anxious to load up and be on the way. They all eyed the ATVs and motor cycles that still sat in the garage. Their berth was stacked to the very edges with cases of food. No one spoke and that caught a nerve. I have never tried to overpower the boys, but if they didn't feel that they could at least ask about the fun stuff… well, it just made me feel like I was considered more of an authority figure than I want to be to my friends.

    Two one ton pickups pulled into the drive and waited until I directed them to the vehicle that would take the trailer each truck was towing. Now I had shouting and happy boys as they saw the company names on the sides of the trucks. Yamaha, Honda, Isuzu, decals emblazoned the vehicles along with the name of a local motorcycle dealer.
    The trailers were very heavy and were not going to be moved behind their Traveler© by sheer man, or boy, power. The load wheel on each trailer was lowered to lift it from the pickup trucks then brute force aimed them at the Travelers. The engine compartment cover was raised on the two RVs to reveal a small wench mounted on the bumper mounts. A steel cable ran through the bumper and that was stretched over to hooks on the trailers' tongue. When the cable retracted, it drew the trailers up to where man and boy power could line it up and lower it onto the ball hitch.
    I walked to the back of Traveler© and opened the back of the longer of the two trailers. I had called for the two old ATVs and the two motorcycles to be rolled over. As the back of the trailer dropped seventy young jaws dropped in unison. There was not an inch of wasted space as cross country bikes, motorcycles, and two more ATVs filled the insides. There were two levels of racks jammed with wheels of every sort from the back of the trailer to the front. I smacked Toby on the back of the head when he asked if there was a tricycle for Gus. The open spaces at the back were labeled for the four vehicles to be loaded.
    Once that trailer was secured I let the boys see the inside of the other trailer. To have not done so would have been to cause pandemonium in their young minds as their curiosity would drive them insane. They had to see, they're boys. I was the same way at their age, I still am. The ewwws and ahhhhs filled the air as they saw another trailer packed with wheels. I do not have room for wheels for everyone, but I had enough wheels to keep them busy in pairs for several days. I hope weeks because we are going to be gone for a month.

    My only real concern is Tim O'Conner. A cross country trip might be uncomfortable for him. I had him on Traveler Too© with me. If we had to make arrangements then I would be there from the beginning. Thursday morning we set out on the trip that will end the days of the Traveler© and his companions. My life was about to take a turn that no one would have ever expected.

    Our last evening in New York brought the word I had been waiting for on Fedor. The boy had been used and he admitted that he had not been all that comfortable during his ongoing abuse. He felt good that there was an older man paying attention to him. He was a typical pubescent boy with a need to be accepted. The neighbor had taken advantage of his innocense and used him. He agreed to testify against the man, especially when Mic told him that his testimony would free his father and his brother.
    Mic had taken Fedor to many sessions with police psychologists and everyone was convinced that the father and the brother were innocent and they had both been released. I sat down with both men and discussed Fedor's future. They were excited to learn about The Bradford Academy and agreed at once to let him attend the school. I had already taken it upon myself to drive the boy up and let him have a two day, overnight tour of the school. There is no way that I could take Fedor out of state at that point so I had to do the best for him that I could.
    Based on stories that Fedor had told the police a search warrant was served along with the arrest warrant for the neighbor. An eleven year old boy was found naked in the studio where Fedor told us that the man took pictures of him. Many videos of Fedor and a dozen other boys were confiscated. We had another boy porno film maker on our hands.

    Fedor came to me the night before he left for school. He wanted to spend one more night with me and the boys. He sat at the table and told all of us that he loved us and he was thankful to us for rescuing him. He would like to go with us, but he understood that he had to stay and testify in court about what he had been through. He asked if he might be able to join us after everything was finished. I told him that I had a plan to spend Christmas in New York and that he could come down and stay with us if he wished. We would talk about anything further at that point.
    We were locked together in our afterglow when the sweet lad pulled close to my ear. "Don't worry, I will never tell anyone about you or your family. I love you and I will keep my peter mouth shut, forever. I want to be able to come back and be like this as often as I can, I could never fuck up the best thing that has ever happened to me in all of my life." I was glad to hear that, but only time will tell if what he said is so. We are seeing many cases of boys who had sex with men, often their clergy. Now they are grown up and feeling remorse, or are they seeing dollar signs? How many of these men are now coming forth because they see the church pouring out huge settlements on other molested victims. At the time they didn't feel that they were being molested, they were getting their rocks off. Yeah, there are more than a few that were coerced and molested, but more of them were willing or even eager for the attention at the time.

    We didn't break any speed records for the trip. It is one thing to have a single vehicle traveling at the speed of sound along the ground, but three vehicles in convoy don't get the breaks that one gets. We kept our speed hovering around the speed limit. We stopped every two to two and a half hours for a stretch break. I saw the panic on some of the faces at various truck stops, but the boys were perfect gentlemen and we did our business and moved on.
    I wanted an early and clean break away so I had not allowed Edmund or Ģerâld to prepare breakfast. I had called a large, popular truck on the road an hour west of town. I alerted them to our breakfast invasion. They told me that eight o'clock was good for them as the commuters had moved through and the truckers were back on the road.
    At about six thirty we pulled away from my three month vacation at Empire Canal for the wide open highways. The house was secure and there would be five armed guards on duty 24/7. I was going to forget about that and relax. I let Luke drive Traveler© as the lead vehicle. He and Ģer had grown up here so he led us out of town Who knew the way around better than him? True to their word the truck stop was ready for us. They had their breakfast buffet up and fully stocked as my boys made their way through the line. We took seats in the large east dining room that had been reserved for us.
    I followed this same routine as we moved on westward. I would call ahead and make sure that our next stop could accommodate all of us. I feared having to break the bunch up to a different place at each vehicle stop, but everything worked perfectly for us. The Indiana State Police had the welcome wagon out for us. We were met at the Ohio state line and escorted across to the same truck stop in Indianapolis where we had been in at the beginning of this journey.
    The same Police Colonel came to welcome me back. He looked at the three Travelers© and commented that Too looked different. I told him about the new skin. Of course I had to show him. We crawled around the engine compartment so he could get a good idea of the thickness of the material then I told him of its strength, he was impressed. I told him that the ordinance world found use for the DuPont created Kevlar and were using it in the manufacture of smart bombs. Kevlar is invisible to radar so it fits well under the wing of a stealth fighter and cuts the weight of the bomb almost in half.
    When I mentioned the radar invisibility beneft the Colonel's ears perked up and he asked me if he could check his radar units against us. I felt that that would be interesting to know about and agreed.
    The local FI Captain drove into the truck stop with some of the men that I had seen before. I took the captain aside and told him that I wanted absolutely no pictures of the boys or the vehicles, not even cell phone cameras. He nodded and set his men around the area. He and one more man were hovering near me like the odor on fresh hot bread.
    I was hungry and time was pressing. The Colonel joined me for lunch and pointed out that the truck stop had a Traveler© wall. They had pictures of the big boy with news clippings of the trial. I guess excitement comes cheap to some folk. As I came to the end of the line I had to stop short. Another series of photos showed the fŗĩęñďş Çłųß air plane on the ground in Mississippi and there were dozens of pictures of me and the boys working clean up from Hurricane Katrina.
    I heard a scuffle at the door and turned to see none other than the nosy reporter that had tried to take pictures of Cullen in Mississippi. She was waving her press pass and a camera, the FI guards denied her entry. The Colonel looked at me with pleading eyes. The reporter was his sister and the one who put the wall together. I told him no cameras, period. He nodded and went over to her. The pair returned to my table.
    I had her wrong. She never spotted Cullen. She was excited about the large group of children that had arrived on the mysterious black plane and the amazing work they were doing. Her news stories were removed from the wall and brought over for me to read. She had really done a good job of covering our work, but she could learn nothing of who we were. She had learned that the fŗĩęñďş Çłųß had purchased several tons of building materials, food, water, blankets, things that were needed, and had given them out for free. She learned that the club had signed long term mortgages for the homes that we had started and that the terms of the mortgages were more than liberal. She had a hunger to know more.
    I filled her in very briefly. I told her that the fŗĩęñďş Çłųß was a non-profit organization dedicated to provide home, nurturing, and education to cast off boys around the world. I told her that the club operated four shelters around the country and were in the process of acquiring property overseas as well. I told her that amongst the boys eating their dinner were victims that had been rescued and were witnesses in the ongoing trials in New York; that had brought me through their town in February.
    I told her that there was no way I would allow pictures of any of us. I was distressed that she had pictures of some of the boys, but at the time those pictures were taken none of the victims of the slavers were with us. I told her that I would let the pictures she already had remain. I followed her stare and had a sinking feeling. "Yes, it is. His life is worth many millions of dollars to whomever will take it. Would you like to put his picture in your newspaper?"
    She went ashen. "Oh, no sir. I would never do that. I just saw him. I heard that they killed him in Europe last fall."
    "They tried. He and I were in a car that was the target of a rocket attack. By the grace of God we are here. I have hidden him for several months. I will tell you something because you have been so gracious. If you release this knowledge I will destroy you so that no one will ever buy a word you say. Cullen is my sister's boy, he is in my total care. My sister and her husband had an attempt on their lives during the holidays this past Christmas, they are safe.
    "Mam, that knowledge would gain you wealth beyond your wildest dreams. It would also cost the life of a precious fifteen year old boy, and who knows how many innocents. The people that want him dead are ruthless. The people I just testified against in New York are only the public face of a world wide boys' slave market. You now know more than even these boys know. I have never told anyone as much as you now know. When this is all done and over I will send for you to come to wherever I am and give you a world wide exclusive. You will be the most famous reporter of all times, but bear with me. It will take another year, at least, before this is over.
    "There are many more of these people out there and their big man is immune from prosecution. I have a serious job ahead of me. Please do not make me regret having talked to you." I nodded and arose. "Mam, Colonel." The boys had my signal and they were moving to the vehicles. Mommie was paying the check. I had to shake a few dozen hands.
    We had only been down for an hour. The State Police escorted us to Illinois and sent us on our way. I was glad to not have a repeat of my trip east. However, I had the lead and we encountered many Illinois Highway Patrol, and other Police vehicles, along the way. They were all out of their cars, many holding their radar guns. They waved at us as we sped past, well in excess of the speed limit. This could be a good thing. You think? The same thing happened in Missouri, but not as often. Most of the state police we saw were traveling in the opposite direction. They flashed their headlights at us, some rolled down their windows to wave at us. I passed two patrol cars that had moved traffic to the right lane to let us pass without breaking speed. At the Oklahoma line I cut south for the scenic route and peace. We covered the fourteen hundred miles from Albany in just over twenty eight hours, including seven potty stops.

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