Date: Sun, 28 Aug 2005 17:17:47 -0500
From: kenlou16 <kenlou16@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nudist Camp Vacation - Chapter 20

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The usual stuff applies.  This story is Copyright 2005, by the author
represented by the email address, kenlou16@yahoo.com.  Please don't read it
if it isn't legal for you to do so.  (I have to say that.  I know I can't
stop you from reading it.)  Also, if you don't like reading about gay
stuff, then what on Earth are you doing reading this?

Because of the volume of emails I've been receiving, I'll only answer an
email if you ask a question or request an answer.  However, all questions
and requests will be answered!

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Dedication:

There is one person in particular who has written to me and touched my
heart.  In his youth, he suffered from abuse much like Stevey did in this
story.  It is to Rick that I dedicate this story.

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A SPECIAL MESSAGE TO NCV READERS:

I had originally thought that this story would be about twenty chapters.
Since this is the twentieth chapter, there will obviously be a few more
chapters as the story concludes.

However, I find that I must take a short break.  I don't know how long the
break will be, it might be short or it might be long, but there is a
personal issue in my life that I find I must address.  My "personal issue"
is not with my partner; it's with my family.  I won't share what it is with
anyone but Louie and one close friend, so please don't ask.  Thanks for
understanding.

When I return, I expect to be able to give you faithful fans the finish to
this story you all deserve.  (That's a GOOD thing!)  Please be patient.
I've needed encouragement in the past, but this time, I think, it might
actually be counterproductive.  For now, all I need is the love and support
of the most wonderful partner anyone could pray to have.  Louie is more
important to me than he will ever know, although he has a pretty good idea.

In the meantime, enjoy this chapter, and love someone special!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Live simply, love generously, care deeply and speak kindly.  Leave the rest
to God.

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FROM THE END OF CHAPTER 19:

[Stevey] looked at Tim then me, and his eyes filled with tears.  He
whispered, "They hurt me."

"The kidnappers?"

"Yeah."

Tim reached out and held Stevey's hand.

"Stevey, tell me what they did."

With his wet eyes, he looked at me for a moment, working up the courage to
speak.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nudist Camp Vacation CHAPTER 20

"I can't . . . ."

"It's okay, Stevey.  If you don't want to tell me, that's okay.  But you've
got to tell it to someone.  I'll arrange for you to see a counselor."

"NO!  I can't talk to strangers!  I WON'T!  No counselors!"  He was very
agitated.  He hugged himself with his arms and shivered.

I tried to speak as soothingly as I could.  "Would it help if you talked to
just one of us?  You can talk to Tim if you want, and I'll wait in the
kitchen."  I started to get up to leave.

"NO!  DON'T LEAVE!" he screamed.

"Then, do you want Tim to leave?"

He looked into Tim's eyes.  "No, I don't want Timmy to leave, either."

Tim smiled at him, sadly.  He whispered, "You haven't called me that for a
long time.  Did I ever tell you I loved it when you called me that?"

Stevey suddenly leaned forward, grabbed Tim around the neck, and sobbed.
Tim held him lightly until Stevey slowed his weeping.  I handed Stevey my
handkerchief and he wiped his face and blew his nose in it.  We waited,
patiently.

Stevey looked at Tim, then at me, and began, "You can't tell ANYONE!  Okay?
You can't tell anyone, ever!"  He hesitated a moment as both Tim and I
nodded.

Tim and I strained to hear as Stevey spoke, almost in a whisper, "I didn't
say anything `cause . . .  I don't know why.  I guess I just wanted it to
go away.  I guess I wanted to forget."

He looked from me to Tim and back to me again.  His eyes held both fear and
determination.  He was forcing himself to remember.

"They hurt me.  It was when we were in the house up the road from home.
The day they kidnapped us and after we got tired and they left me and Paul
tied up?  After Paul and me talked for a while, we fell asleep.  Sometime
in the night they came in and woke me up.  Not Paul, just me.  I was afraid
they'd wake up Paul, too, but they didn't.  They were both nude, too.  The
big one picked me up and carried me to another room on the other side of
the house and put me on the bed.  It was one of those old wrought iron
beds.  He untied the rope on my hands and pushed me on my back.  I was glad
to get my hands from behind my back, but then they tied my hands to the top
of the bed.  I was scared!  I don't like to be tied up!  Not like that!"
He crossed his arms on his chest and started to cry uncontrollably, rocking
himself forward and back.

Tim looked into his eyes, helplessly, and rubbed Stevey's thigh.

I tried to soothe him by rubbing his shoulder and shushing him.  "Look,
Stevey, you don't have to tell us if you don't want."

He searched my face with a forlorn look and whispered, "I gotta tell you.
Like you said before, it's better if I do."

He blew his nose again, and we waited.  After what seemed like several
minutes, Stevey folding and refolding the handkerchief, he began again.

"They had leather straps and stuff all over the room and there were some
straps and chains hanging from the ceiling.  I looked around at all the
stuff and I started to get really scared.  That was when they stuffed a rag
in my mouth."

As Stevey spoke, I became nauseated and broke into a cold sweat.  I came
very close to vomiting, but I willed myself to get a grip.  I wanted to
give Stevey the strength I felt I should have.  What he had endured was
much more than anyone should ever have to experience, but at his tender age
. . . it was reprehensible!  It was difficult to comprehend that those
descriptions were coming from the mouth of one who appeared so innocent, so
young, and yet when he finished, he looked much older than his years.  He
was exhausted as he collapsed into the chair, still hugging himself.  He
was staring at the ceiling when he said, "When I got back to the bedroom
where Paul was, he was still asleep.  I didn't want him to know what they
did to me."  Then looked directly at me and said, softly, "I didn't want
anyone to know, but it's too much to keep inside."

It took several minutes of silence for it all to sink in.  When I finally
overcame my shock, I became angry.  If those men had been in front of me at
that moment, I'm afraid of what I would have done to them.  I wouldn't have
been able to control myself.

I had dropped my eyes to the floor when I felt an unexpected touch on my
face.  Stevey had reached to me without my knowing it, and was wiping my
tears from my cheeks.  When I looked up at him, he looked at Tim.  Tim was
wiping his own tears away.

I couldn't believe that HE was comforting US!  Maybe it was cathartic for
him, I don't know.  I cleared my throat and swallowed hard.  "Stevey,
you've got to see a doctor."

He nodded and sighed with resignation.  "I know.  I'm still . . . .  I
know."

I looked at Tim and asked, "Who's your doctor?"

"Dr. Graves."

"Good, he's my doctor, too."

I went into rescue mode as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and called
his office.  "Hello, this is Alan Stewart.  I need to speak with Dr. Graves
immediately. . . .  No, but it's very important. . . .  Yes, I'll wait."

They put me on hold.  After ten or fifteen minutes of aggravating elevator
music, it abruptly stopped and I heard a click.  "Alan?  Is that you?"

"Yes, Dan, it's me.  This is extremely important.  Did you hear about the
boys who were kidnapped?"

"Yes, I did.  I was glad to hear they were rescued so quickly.  But what
they experienced was sad.  Very sad."

"Well, it's worse than you've heard.  One of the boys is a friend of mine.
He needs an examination, immediately.  He's already a patient of yours.
It's Stevey Smith.  Can you see him?"

"Is he mobile?"  He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Yes."

"Bring him to my office, right now.  I'll make sure he gets right in.  Oh,
and Alan, he'll have to have one of his parents with him."

"We'll be there in ten minutes."  I hung up and turned to Stevey.  "Stevey,
I have to call your folks.  They have to be there with you."

Immediately, he started to shiver.  "Do they have to?" he squeaked.

"Yes, they do.  Stevey, they're your parents.  They love you.  They need to
know about this."

Tim finally spoke.  "It's okay, Stevey.  They already know about the other
guy.  They're cool.  Besides, you didn't do anything wrong!  It was those
men who forced you."

He took a big breath and looked up at me.  He had a fearful look on his
face.  Slowly, he nodded.

Before he could change his mind, I called his folks.  "Rita?  This is
Alan. . . .  Yes, I'm fine.  Listen, Stevey and Tim are over here at my
house and we've been talking.  Stevey just told us something that makes me
think he should see a doctor. . . .  Yes, there's more to it than he said.
We're taking him to Dr. Graves' office.  Can you meet us there in ten
minutes?"

She quickly agreed and hung up.  I had been intentionally evasive and she
didn't press me for details.  I imagine we both wanted her to get her
information directly from Stevey.

We piled into the Hum-Vee, and this time I drove.  Tim let Stevey ride in
front and he sat in back.  At least all the do-dads in the car were a
distraction to Stevey.  He seemed to be fascinated, but as he reached to
touch the controls, I could see his hands shake.

When we got to the doctor's office we checked in at the receptionist's
desk.  Her eyes got big when I told her that Stevey Smith was there to see
Dr. Graves.  She shouted for the nurse and she came immediately.  When the
nurse asked Stevey to go inside to an exam room, he grabbed my hand and
tugged me after him.

I whispered, hoarsely, "Stevey?  What're you doing?  I can't go in with
you."

He looked up at me with a wild, terrified look in his eyes.  He whispered,
"Alan, you gotta come with me!  I can't do it unless you're there!"

I leaned down to protest as I noticed Rita and Tom enter through the door.
They both had terrified expressions.  "Your folks are here.  Your mom can
go with you."

His eyes popped wide.  "NO!  Not my mom!"  He was panicking.

"It's okay, Stevey!  Your dad can go with you."

He still had a death grip on my arm.  He looked at his dad, as he
approached.  Stevey whispered quickly, "No, not my dad, either!  Only YOU!"

Tim intercepted his folks and exchanged a concerned look with them.  Rita
quickly walked to Stevey and hugged him.

She asked quietly, "Stevey, what's wrong?  What did those men do to you?"
She was very concerned about her son, but she was being a little too
demanding.

Stevey looked up at me with tears in his eyes.  He was silently pleading
with me.

I interceded for him.  "Rita, Stevey's extremely upset about this.
Honestly, I think this is a `dad' thing."  I looked at her, hoping that she
would relent and let Tom do this.

She looked at me helplessly, fearfully, then at Stevey.  She asked him,
"Stevey, do you want your dad to go in with you?"

Stevey looked at me and I nodded to him.  I knew he'd never be able to tell
his mother the morbid details of his abuse.

In a small voice, Stevey said, "Yeah, Mom.  I want Dad."

She looked dejected, but conceded to Tom.  I felt relieved and Tom looked
confused.  Tim took his mom to a quiet corner, hopefully to explain to her
what Stevey had told us, but without as much detail.

The nurse cleared her throat.  I looked at Tom and then at Stevey.  I don't
think Stevey was about to go inside without me.

I looked at Tom and said, "Let's go inside."  He nodded.  I reasoned that I
could always duck out after the questions were answered and before the real
examination began.

We followed the nurse to an exam room where she gave her canned
announcement, "The doctor will see you in a moment."  She was about to
close the door, but Dr. Graves stepped past her into the exam room as she
stepped out.  He closed the door firmly behind him.

He looked at Stevey and forced a smile while he patted the exam table.
"Hi, Stevey!  What's all this about?"  He was trying to be upbeat, but I'm
sure he had prepared himself for the worst.

I led Stevey to the end of the table where he jumped up and sat.  He never
let go of me.  Stevey looked up at me, presumably for support.  His
expression was pathetic.

I tried to be supportive.  I said in a low voice, "Stevey, you've got to
tell the doctor what you told Tim and me."

Stevey stared into my eyes for a moment, and then looked from the doctor to
his dad.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then, staring at the
floor, he repeated what he had been trying not to remember.  While he spoke
his grip on my hand became so tight, he bruised me.

It was bad enough to hear it the first time, but to hear it again was
tearing me apart.  I noticed that he told the story almost verbatim from
his first telling.  It occurred to me that since he would likely have to
relate the story again, at a deposition, and then possibly again, in court,
it was good that his story was consistent.  When he finished, I wasn't
nauseous, but my eyes were flooded.  I had to retrieve my hand from Stevey
to reach for my handkerchief, but it wasn't there.  I hadn't gotten it back
from Stevey at the house, and he didn't seem to have it anywhere in sight.
Fortunately, Dan was ready and offered me a tissue from a box.  I saw him
make the same offer to Tom as well.  Tom took two tissues.  I glanced at
Tom and saw that he had a helpless, but horrified expression on his face
that was uninterrupted as he wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

Dan had been studying Stevey's face and appeared to be quite concerned.
Stevey's expression had been completely blank from the time he began until
he finished.  He seemed to be spacing.  Dan looked at both Tom and me and
said, "Perhaps you gentlemen had better wait outside.  I'll let you know
when you can come back in."

"NO!" Stevey screamed.  "ALAN STAYS!"

I looked at Tom.  I could tell he didn't want to stay, but I didn't either.
I didn't want to witness what I was sure would be painful for Stevey,
either physically or emotionally, or both.  But if it was what he wanted, I
would walk through fire for him.  "Tom, I'll stay if you think it's all
right."

Tom stepped to Stevey and gently brushed the hair back from his face.  His
eyes were red and wet.  "Stevey, you're my son and I love you.  If you want
Alan to stay, then it's okay with me."

Stevey was looking into his eyes.  Silently, he reached for his dad and
hugged him tightly, pressing his face into Tom's chest.  He whispered, "I
love you, Dad."

After Tom left, Dan told Stevey to take his clothes off and put on one of
those silly gowns.  He excused himself, explaining that he had to gather
some instruments.

Stevey was ready when he returned.  Dan carried in a tray of ominous
looking devices, most of which were half hidden under a green cloth.  There
was also a Polaroid camera.  I speculated to myself that he was
anticipating having to provide evidence for a trial.

Before he began, Dan explained everything he was about to do and how he was
going to do it, but first, he gave Stevey a mild sedative.  His movements
when he touched Stevey were slow, gentle, and deliberate.  He spoke the
entire time and he explained exactly what he was doing, while he was doing
it.  At first, Stevey seemed panicky, but he seemed to calm as the
examination progressed.  It was probably the sedative kicking in.  Stevey
focused on my eyes the entire time, looking to the side at me whether he
was on his back or his stomach.  I looked only at Stevey's eyes, hoping to
give him added courage.  Whenever he became tense, I spoke soothingly to
him and squeezed his hand.  He even became accustomed to the flash of the
camera.

Finally, Dan announced that the examination was finished.  As Stevey sat
up, Dan said, "Stevey, you're a very brave boy."  I was convinced that it
took tremendous courage to do what he had just done, but I'm sure the
sedative helped.  Dan went on to explain, "You won't require surgery, but
there's some serious healing that your body will have to do on its own.
Have you been having any pain?"

Stevey nodded.  "It hurts, sometimes."

"I'll give you something for that."  He looked carefully into Stevey's
eyes.  "Physically, you'll be fine.  You'll just have to rest to let
yourself heal.  What I'm most concerned about is what's inside your head.
Stevey, you've experienced a severe emotional trauma, as well as what they
did to you physically.  I want you to talk to someone.  Okay?"

Stevey was holding my arm and leaning against it.  He looked up at me and
smiled.  "I can talk to Alan."

Dan looked at me appreciatively.  "That's good.  That's very good.  Alan's
a good person.  But what I had in mind is for you to talk to a friend of
mine.  She's very good at this sort of thing."

Stevey asked softly, "You want me to see a shrink?"

Dan chuckled.  "That's not what we usually call her, but that's the general
idea.  Her name's Susan.  I think you'll like her."

"No.  I don't want to talk to anyone else.  Just Alan."

It was time for me to speak up.  "Stevey, I'm not very good at talking
about this sort of thing.  I'll always be your friend, I'll always love
you, and you can always talk to me, but you should really think about
talking to Susan.  It's really important to talk to someone who knows how
to help you through this.  At least give it a shot.  Try it once and if you
find you just can't talk to her, then you don't have to see her anymore.
How's that sound?"  I don't know how much of this he'll remember, but it's
worth a try.

He looked up at me with a blank expression.  "If you think I should, then
I'll try."

I think that was the sedative talking.  He seemed groggy and was being too
agreeable.  I smiled at him.  "Good.  I'll hold you to it."  As if I could.

Dan smiled at him.  I think he knew what I was thinking.  "Okay, get
dressed and meet me in my office.  Turn right from here and it's at the end
of the hall on the right."

"Thanks, Dan."

He nodded at me.  Stevey had his back turned as he looked for his clothes.
Dan looked at him sadly, swallowed hard, then turned and left.

Stevey was so relaxed that he was having trouble getting cleaned up and
dressed, so I helped him.  When we got to Dan's office, Dan was already
talking with Rita, Tim, and Tom.  Tim was sitting on a couch, apart from
his parents, looking lost.  I whispered in Stevey's ear, "Sit next to your
mom."  I thought she could use the closeness with Stevey right now.  I
pulled a chair up against Rita's and Stevey sat in it, leaning against his
mother's arm.  She put her arm over Stevey's shoulders and rested her cheek
against Stevey's head when he nestled her bosom.  I took a seat on the
couch next to Tim.  When he was sure no one was looking, he took my hand
firmly into his own and sighed.

Dan sounded as if he were continuing his conversation with Rita and Tom.
"Stevey has agreed to see Susan.  Isn't that right, Stevey?"

He nodded, lazily.

Dan handed a slip of paper to Tom.  "Here's a prescription for pain pills.
Give one to Stevey when you get home and whenever he needs it, but no more
than one every four hours.  You can also give him one if he has trouble
sleeping.  Just call the office if you need more.  I'll want to see Stevey
again next Monday.  Call me immediately if he has any problems."  Then he
lowered his voice.  "Because of the nature of Stevey's injuries, I'm
required to make a report to Child Protective Services.  But, I'll be sure
to make clear reference to the kidnapping.  Do you have any questions?"

Since no one spoke, he stood, and everyone else slowly got to their feet.
He walked around his desk and put a hand on Stevey's shoulder.  "Stevey,
I've made an appointment for you to see Susan tomorrow.  Your dad has the
information.  Okay?"

Stevey nodded.  He was holding his mother's arm, probably for support.

Dan looked at both Rita and Tom and said, "Let him sleep it off the rest of
the afternoon.  He could probably use the rest."

Rita and Tom led Stevey out of the office.

I shook Dan's hand.  "Thanks.  I've got a feeling this won't be the last
time I'll be thanking you."

He looked at me seriously.  "What was done to that boy had better not go
unpunished.  I'll do whatever I have to do to see to it."

I nodded as he turned to Tim.  "Timothy, isn't it?"

Tim smiled, "Yes."

Dan smiled at me, "So, do I hear wedding bells?"

I laughed and deferred to Tim.  The truth of the matter was that it was a
relief to have a change of subject.

Tim was smiling that full-face smile of his and his blushing was deepening
to crimson.  Even his dimples were red!  "Uh, yeah, I guess so."

Dan laughed.  "Tim, I've known Alan for a long time.  I helped treat his
depression after . . . uh, over the last three years.  I'm overjoyed that
he found someone."  Then he looked at me again.  "Don't just stop taking
that medication.  Come in later and I'll tell you how to taper off so you
won't crash and burn."

I nodded.  "I will."

We caught up with Rita, Stevey, and Tom in the waiting room.  Rita made Tom
take Stevey's arm then she turned to me with tears in her eyes.  I wasn't
sure if she was about to scold me, or what.  After a moment of searching my
eyes, she threw her arms around me and gave me a rib-bruising hug.

"Thank you for loving my boys!" she sobbed.  "I don't know how I'll ever be
able to thank you!"

In spite of the fact that everyone in the waiting room turned and looked at
the spectacle, I cried, too.  If you ever want to make me cry, then just do
something sentimental or romantic around me.  This was over the top!

When she finally let me go, she used the tissue she was holding to wipe her
eyes.  I wiped my face with my hands until Tim handed me a used tissue he'd
been holding.  I swear we need to buy stock in a few tissue companies!

Tom was looking at me, silently.  I could tell by the look on his face he
wanted to speak, but he didn't; he just nodded.  I decided he's the type
that keeps his emotions as hidden as possible.  My dad was like that, too.

"Rita, as I said before, no thanks are necessary.  They've given me more
love than I'm capable of returning."  Then I looked at Tim, nervously.
"Besides, I've already taken one of your boys away from you.  I just hope
to help restore the other one."

"I didn't even know what Stevey was going through.  I feel like such a bad
mother."

I remember thinking that this was not the type of conversation we should be
having in a doctor's waiting room, but I couldn't let that thought go
unanswered.

I whispered to her, "Rita, when this type of thing happens, parents rarely
know what's going on until much later.  If they do know at the time and
don't do anything, then they are bad parents.  From where I'm sitting, or
rather standing, you're among the best of parents.  You love your sons and
it shows.  They love you, too.  The worst thing you can do is go around
beating yourself up over something that was completely beyond your power to
control.  Just keep loving your boys."

"Alan, what can I say?  I guess now you're one of my boys, too!  I'll just
tell people you were adopted."  She smiled at me.

I laughed and hugged her.  "That sounds good to me!"

She finally laughed as she wiped the tissue across her nose again.  "Oh, by
the way, you can take your motor home back, now.  It was so nice to have
such a nice place to stay while the police were going over our home, but
we've moved back into the house, now.  Tom's emptied the holding tanks and
I've washed the sheets.  There's a stain on the carpet next to the bed that
I couldn't get out, though."

"Rita, I was glad to let you use it."

("Stain on the carpet?"  "Next to the bed?"  OH, MY GOD!)  I looked at Tim
and blushed.  He looked at me with a questioning expression.  He had no
idea why I was blushing.  He hadn't caught what his mother had said!  She
was trying to clean the "stain" I put there the day we met!

It was late afternoon when we finally made our departure from the doctor's
office.  Rita and Tom took Stevey with them, and Tim and I jumped into the
Hum-Vee.  I saw Tom's eyes widen when he saw what we were driving.  I can't
help having just a little pride when someone admires one of my toys.

On the way home, Tim told me what he had said to his mother.  "I told her
as much as I could remember about what Stevey told us, but I didn't tell
her all the detail.  I guess I glossed over a lot of it."  He sighed loudly
and rested his head in his hand.  "But I also told her how you saved
Stevey, twice!"

"Tim, I didn't save Stevey!  Other people did!"

He looked at me with frustration.  "Alan," he said with forced patience,
"the others wouldn't have been there if you hadn't called them.  And both
times, YOU were there!  On top of that, it helped Mom understand why Stevey
clings to you so much.  She wouldn't be able to understand, otherwise.  You
really don't know how much Stevey worships you, do you?"

That was a shock!  He WORSHIPS me?  I know he can easily get carried away
around me, but I didn't think he was that attached to me.  Suddenly,
something came back to me.  It was what Andy had said to me about people
trusting me.  I guess, maybe, it's true.  I was never aware of it before
now, but it does make sense.

When we got home, Nell met us in the kitchen.  She was worried, sick.
"How's Steve?" she demanded.

"Stevey will be fine, eventually.  Physically, he'll heal, but it's the
emotional trauma that'll give him the most trouble.  He'll be seeing
someone to help him with that."

"Oh, daisies!  I feel terrible that I scared him."

"Nell, it's probably good that you did.  If it hadn't been for that, we
might not have found out the full story about what happened to Stevey, and
we wouldn't have known that he needed help so badly.  No, it was definitely
a good thing."

She dropped her head and thought a moment.  "Well, I suppose it might be
all right then.  But can you get him over here, sometime soon?  I want to
make it up to him."

Tim walked over to her and hugged her.  "Thanks, Nell.  You're such a truly
nice person."

"No, I'm not!  And don't you let anyone hear you say that, either!  I'm an
evil, bitter, cruel, old woman, and don't you forget it!"

Tim thought a moment.  "Evil?  Don't think so.  Bitter?  Not likely.
Cruel?  Definitely not.  Old?  . . . Maybe."

She scowled at him.  "Are you calling me an old woman?"

Tim looked at me for help.  He didn't know if he'd crossed some invisible
line, somewhere.  He took a chance.  "Well, yes, I suppose so."

"Oh.  Okay, that's all right, but just don't go around calling me nice!"

As she stomped away, she looked back and smirked at him.  Tim looked at me
and we burst out laughing.  He had taken on Nell and won!  Many have tried
to win her affection and many have failed, but Nell definitely likes him!

"What say we return your father's truck and get your car?"

"What say – I – return my father's truck and get my car?  You're exhausted,
and you're supposed to be resting!"

"What gave me away?  Was it my drooping eyes or my drooping butt?"

He sniggered.  (I wondered if he'd do that again!  He must surely have
British blood!)  "You're drooping all over!  Why don't you make yourself
comfy and I'll be back, shortly?"

I yawned.  I guess I am tired.  "Okay, sounds like a plan.  Just be careful
and don't be long.  Oh, and here."  I walked to a drawer and pulled out the
spare house key and the garage door opener for the vacant space in the
garage.  "These are for you.  The combination to the security system is
1958."

"1958?  Is that the year you were born?"

I smiled.  "No, it's the year of the invention of the integrated circuit in
Dallas."

He smiled wide.  "No way!"

"Yes, way!"

He laughed, leaned to me, and did this suction thing to my mouth.  You
know, it's the thing I live for!  When he finished the kiss, I was still
ready for more.  I opened my eyes and saw that he was smiling at me, again.

"Go upstairs and change.  You should lie down for a while."

"Okay, boss.  Oh, and could you tell Marty to go fetch the motor home?"

"Go!  I'll tell Marty."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!"

I looked back and watched while Tim scooted out the door then I turned and
made my way slowly to my room.  My legs suddenly felt quite heavy.  It
would feel good to get out of the suit I'd been wearing all day.  I
stripped to my Jockeys and lay across the bed.

There was something that was nagging at me.  Have you ever had that feeling
as if you're forgetting something and just can't seem to remember what it
is?  I decided to put it out of my mind and let my subconscious work on it.

It seemed that I had no sooner closed my eyes than Tim was kissing my
forehead, gently waking me.

"Hello, sleepy head," he whispered.  He had the most voluptuous smile on
his face.

I stretched.  "Back already?"

"Mmm, hmm," he said as he began to kiss my belly.  When his tongue darted
into my navel, I jumped and moaned.  He crawled between my legs and slowly
rested his weight on me.  When he placed his head on my chest, he sighed
and hugged me, firmly.  I hugged him back, rubbing his back.  Feeling his
weight on me, I felt quite contented, but my other brain had ideas of its
own, as it rose to the occasion.  Tim moaned, quietly, as he felt me
harden.

After we "enjoyed" each other, I whispered in Tim's ear, "I've got to make
a call."  Ain't I romantic?  But, that "something" that I had been
forgetting had suddenly become clear.

He sighed and smiled into my eyes then kissed me deeply.

After he released me, I picked up my cell phone and dialed it.  I expected
to have to leave a message, but I heard a voice say, "Hi, Alan!"

"Hi, Andy.  I wanted to tell you about something that happened today."

Yes, I called Andy Cooper, the FBI agent.  I wanted to tell him about what
we'd found out about Stevey.  Since Stevey had shared his story with
Dr. Graves, I rationalized that I had been released from my promise not to
tell anyone about it.  Besides, Andy would find out about it eventually.
When I finished, I wasn't sure that telling him had been such a good idea.
He sounded extremely angry.

"Thanks for calling, Alan.  I'll take it from here," he growled.

"Uh, Andy?  Are you all right?"

He sighed.  "You're the only person who could know how much this bothers me
and I'm grateful that you're the one to tell me about it.  Listen, Alan,
this is something that I have to deal with.  And I'm responsible to bring
these men to justice."

"Andy, I hate to burden you like this, but there's something else.  Did you
hear about that pedophile that was shot by a cop?"

"Yes, of course.  Why?"

"He'd been molesting Stevey.  It lasted for two years.  When he was
arrested, it sounded like they found a lot of pictures of other boys.  I'm
wondering if there's some connection between that guy and these kidnappers.
It just seems like too much of a coincidence that two child molester
pedophiles would come out of nowhere and kidnap Stevey.  They drove off a
highway onto a lightly used local road and into an obscure driveway.  It
just seems like they knew where to find him.  It seems like they took Paul,
too, just because he was there."

"Oh, my God," he whispered.

A long silence followed.  "Andy?  Are you still there?"

He cleared his throat.  "Sorry, I was thinking.  Listen, I've got some work
to do.  And Alan?  Thanks. . . .  Thanks for calling.  This may be the
break I was looking for."  His voice became tender as he thanked me.

"Break?  What do you mean by `break'?"

He broke the connection without answering.

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To be continued . . . .

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