Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2014 19:07:11 +0100
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Following Father's Footsteps. Part one.

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         The story is for those of eighteen years or over. All comments,
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         Part one.

  It was five years ago when I first met Eddie Rover. It was at a local
park where some young boys were playing football. That is the name used for
the game in England whereas in America, it is known as soccer. I had
wandered over to watch them, it being a warm Sunday afternoon, and stopped
by him, a scruffy looking lad, watching the boys kick the ball back and
forth, trying to score a goal at each end. We'd been there a few minutes
when the ball came flying over to where we were standing.

  Instead of kicking the ball straight back out onto the playing field,
Eddie caught it on his foot and kicked it up gently several times in front
of him before kicking it up onto his head and balanced it there for a
moment before letting it roll down his back. Then with his left leg, used
his heel to kick it back over his head and with his right foot, then kicked
it back out to the players.

  I was amazed at the dexterity of his foot work with the ball and couldn't
help speaking to him.

  `That was amazing! Where did you learn to do that with a football?' I
asked.

  `In the garden at home,' he mumbled.

  `Did you play for the school's football team?'

  `No,' he mumbled again, looking down at his scruffy shoes.

  `Why in heavens not? You would be good out on the field if that little
exhibition is anything to go by,' I said, wondering why he hadn't.

  `I didn't like the others. I didn't like the school either and was glad
to leave it,' he said, still not looking at me.

  `Why was that?' I asked.

  `They were always taking the piss, 'ear he comes they would always call
out. They never called me Eddie.'

  `What's wrong with them saying here he comes?' I asked as he then lifted
his head up to look at me. Eyes, ears, nose and mouth in the right places,
and was quite good looking having lovely blue eyes.

  `It was because of my name. Edward Arthur Rover. E.A.R. my initials. I
didn't like it,' he said without a mumble this time, now looking me in the
eyes, waiting no doubt for me to laugh, which I didn't seeing the look he
gave me.

  `Boys can be quite rude,' was all I could say to that. `Do you live round
here?'

  `Used to,' he mumbled and dropped his head down to look at his feet
again. `That is before the fire.'

  `Fire? You mean your house burnt down?'

  `Yes. With both my parents inside.'

  `Oh, you poor thing. You lost both of them?' to which he nodded. `How
long ago was this and where do you live now?' I asked.

  `Just over eight months ago, while I was at school. They said that it was
a gas explosion and I was sent to a foster home. Everything was destroyed
so all I had left were the clothes I'm wearing.'

  `Eight months? Didn't the social people or the foster people get you some
different clothes to wear?'

  `Yes, but I wouldn't wear them. This is all I have left of what my
parents bought me.'

  `What did the foster people say about that?'

  `That I was ungrateful. I didn't like them and so I ran away.'

  `When was this?'

  `Last week,' he said, still mumbling.

  `How have you been getting along then?'

  `Scrounged food from allotments or orchards, and slept wherever I could,'
he said somewhat defiantly, now looking back up at me. He was about five
foot eight whilst I was six foot in height.

  `Are you hungry now?' I asked, feeling sorry for him.

  `Yes,' he mumbled, looking back down again.

  `Would you like to have dinner with me? You look as though you need it. A
bath as well wouldn't go amiss. My place is not far from here,' I told him,
feeling pity for him and being somewhat of a Samaritan.

  `As long as you call me Eddie and not Ear,' he said, looking back up at
me.

  `I wouldn't dream of calling you with a nickname,' I told him. `Come,
it'll take an hour or so to do dinner and would you like to have a bath
while it's cooking?'

  `Yes, please. And thank you,' his eyes now shining.

  So we wandered off from the playing field, him giving me a bit more
information about losing his parents and his time at school and the foster
home and was rather scathing about the latter.

  `You live here?' he asked in amazement as we turned into the drive of my
big Victorian house.

  `Yes,' I replied, feeling a little ashamed at what I had and he had lost.

  `Won't you wife be a bit upset at you bringing me here for dinner? And a
bath?' he added.

  `No problem there,' I chuckled. `I'm not married.'

  `Wow! Such a big place. Much bigger than the house I used to live in,' he
said as we approached the front door. This I unlocked and ushered him
inside.

  `Wow again,' he remarked as we entered the foyer. `This is bigger that
what was our sitting room.'

  It was rather grand I must admit, being rather opulent with a half
circular staircase going up to the upper floor and having a circular dome
at the top that gave the foyer lots of light in spite of the big heavy
chandelier that hung down from the dome.

  `How were you able to afford this? You must be loaded,' he said as I led
him to a door to the right of the foyer.

  `I'm not loaded as you say. It's just a house that my father gave me,' I
said, not wanting to say more at this point. I led him through until we
reached another staircase which I then led him up to the upper floor. On
here, I took him through to a bedroom and pointed out where the bathroom
was.

  `You can have a bath in there and in that wardrobe on your left, you'll
find some hanging clothes that should fit you. At least some of them will
fit, and over there is where you will find some underwear,' pointing to a
dresser. `I'll leave you to have a bath and get dressed and when you've
finished, give that bell a push,' pointing out to him, `and I will collect
you for dinner which I will go back down to start preparing. Okay?'

  `Oh yes, er. What is your name? you didn't tell me,' he said.

  `Richard. Richard Fontaine,' I told him before going out, leaving him to
have a bath and get himself into some clean clothes while I went down to
the kitchen to start to prepare dinner for the both of us. It being the
first time that I was making a dinner for two, having never having done
this before and hoped that he would enjoy what I was about to cook.

  Though I had told him my name was Richard, that was really my middle name
for my first name was Edward, and what with his being the same, it could
become confusing with us both being called Edward or Eddie.

  The meat, basted, was in the oven and the veg had been prepared and in a
pot on the stove when I heard the buzzer, and so went upstairs to find a
clean and dressed young man waiting just outside of the bedroom.

  `My, what a difference,' I said. `Come. Dinner is on its way and should
be ready in half an hour,' I said as I led him downstairs and into the
kitchen. `There is a dining room, but as their just the two of us, I
thought we'd eat here,' I said as I indicated a chair at the table for him
to sit down. He gave me a shy smile as he did so. `I know, because you've
already told me that you are sixteen, it still doesn't stop me from asking
if you would like a glass or two of wine. Yes?'

  `Please,' was the polite response, and so I opened a bottle of red wine
and poured us both a glass and passed one over to him.

  `Your health and I hope that things turn out right for you,' I said as I
raised my glass and chinked it against his before taking a good sip from my
glass before placing it back onto the table to see how the roast was going.

  `It looks good, it smells good and I hope it tastes good,' I said,
closing the oven door and turning on the gas to start the veg
boiling. `Well,' I began, moving to the table and sitting down and picking
up my glass again. `Tell me a bit about yourself. If it will upset you, say
so,' I said.

  `No, no, I've got past that...that fateful day that my parents
died. School had finished for the day, and I made my way home to find two
fire engines sending gallons of water over of what was my home and was
stopped by what was the fire chief for getting close to the burning
house. That's my home I cried as I burst into tears. He hugged me and
called a policewoman over who took me to one side. She knelt down in front
of me, holding me tight as she told me that my parents were still inside
and that she was sorry to have to be the one to tell me that they had died
in the house. She held me tight as I tried to run into the still burning
house.'

  He had big tears in his eyes as he said this and broke off to take a big
gulp of the wine, emptying the glass and so I refilled his and mine before
pushing his glass back towards him.

  `There was nothing they could do to save them she told me,' him carrying
on where he had left off. `So she took me off to the police station and
there I was made to sit down while they got onto the social people to take
care of me. This woman finally appeared and took me off from the police
station and to a house where she said that I could stay for the night until
things could be sorted out.

  I was there two days, not going to school, and most of the time there I
was crying at having my mum and dad dying in that fire. I was then taken to
another house where I was told that they would look after me for a little
while. Huh! A little while? I was there nearly eight months and hated the
place and I got so fed up with them, ran away last week.'

  `Your...your parents were recovered from the house?' I asked, me now
having a few tears in my eyes.

  `Yes, though I wasn't allowed to see them. They were buried three weeks
later. By this time school had finished, so I never went back there
again. As I said, I got fed up, hating that foster home and left it last
week.'

  `Won't the foster people and the police be looking for you?' I asked.

  `I don't care if they are. If they put me in another foster home, I'll
run away again,' he said defiantly. At least the lad showed some spirit.

  I broke off at this point and saw that the veg were ready as well as the
roast and cleared the oven and dished us up what I had cooked and just
loved the way he wolfed down all that was put in front of him. He even had
another two glasses of wine, me finishing off the bottle, but refrained
from opening another. It was only when we had finished eating and I had
cleared the table of our empty plates that I sat down to give him an offer
that he could either accept or refuse.

  `Eddie,' I began, putting on a serious face. `I'm not a paedophile and
yet have enjoyed having your company for this dinner. If you wish, you
could stay here in your own room without any interference from me. You
might even like riding on my horse that's out in the stables at the back,'
I said to him. His eyes lit up.

  `You have a horse and will let me ride him while staying here with you?'
he asked, his eyes positively glowing.

  `If you will treat him as a friend as I do, though that will also mean
you'll have to groom and feed him,' I said.

  `What will you be doing? Going to work?' was the reply.

  `No. I don't have to work. I have enough to support myself, the house and
the horse. You will not be any burden,' I said with a smile.

  And so, it was agreed that he would stay with me and take care of Carmen,
that's the name of the horse in lieu of payment to me feeding him as well
as letting him live with me.

  `You can have the room next to mine that has its own bathroom and help in
getting our meals together. Deal?'

  `Yes! Oh yes. When can I see Carmen?' he asked, his eyes sparking.

  `Now. For she's out in the paddock and it's time she was put into her
stable and fed,' I said, getting up from the table.

  We'd eaten earlier than I normally would have done and so it was still
light outside when we went out of the house to go round to the rear of the
house to where the paddock was. Carmen, on seeing me approach the railings
of the paddock, came cantering over, knowing that it was feeding time as
well as to be put into her stable for the night.

  With her nose over the fence, she nuzzled me as I stroked her. `Here is a
new friend for you,' I told her as I stroked her head. `He's Eddie and will
now be looking after you, so behave yourself.'

  She kept nuzzling me as I open the gate from the paddock and she was
docile enough to walk her own way to her stable and go inside, and with
Eddie being with me, had no problems of him being there as I showed Eddie
what to feed her with and give her a brush down, making sure that there was
enough water for her to drink before we left the stable and returned to the
house.

  We went into the lounge where I poured myself a drink, pausing, wondering
if I should offer him one, which I eventually asked him if he would like a
drink and was pleased when he said that a Coke would be fine. So I sat down
with my gin and tonic and him with his Coke before laying down the rules of
the house. Now this was strange for me for I'd never had any male or female
staying at my house before.

  `Eddie. Staying here with me, means, that you make your own bed every day
and help in cooking our meals and doing the washing up. Have you ever
ridden on a horse?'

  `No Richard,' he said, now being able to use my name.

  `Well, if I teach you, it'll mean that you will also have to learn how to
treat her. Not only on the riding, but the feeding, cleaning out her stable
and seeing to her every need. Is that understood?'

  `Yes Richard. You are giving me a chance to become myself and I promise
that I will not let you down,' he said, with such conviction, that I
believe that he meant what he said. And over the years that followed, he
adhered to what he had declared on that day. He didn't let me down in
everything that I threw at him. He took to Carmen like a duck to water and
she reciprocated by doing exactly as he wanted, which was expected of her.

  It several months before he was able to mount and parade her around the
paddock and a few months later, was able to get her to jump the small
hurdles that we built between us. Excluding Carmen, we both got on well
with each other, cooking and seeing that the house was kept clean and then
playing odd games and learning from each other just how the other reacted
to whatever turned up.

  I even went and erected what would be goal posts in the paddock, and
would have him, at different positions away from the goal, whether it be a
penalty or from thirty yards, to try and score a goal with me being the
goalkeeper. He was so adept in kicking the ball with either his left foot
or his right, that he fooled me more often than not and scored more goals
than I saved. He was what I call a future England player, but first, he
would have to start at the bottom.

                                                   *