Date: Sun, 20 Jan 2002 16:21:35 -0800 (PST) From: Evan Bradely Subject: Chapter 26 of "Ambush" The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex. The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent. EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com Chapter 26 Afterglows and Beginnings Jeremy had awakened early, folded around me, his flesh warm, his scent arousing, his love genuine. He'd hugged me hard. "Good morning, Dad." He kissed my cheek and then sighed. "I promised Ed, my manager, that I'd help with day-after Christmas sales and gift returns. I have to get there before the hordes. Just want you to know how happy I am, how wonderful yesterday and last night were." I turned in his arms and kissed him softly on the lips, but I started giggling before I could finish. "Damn, I can't kiss you for grinning - I'm a DAD!" I shouted, sitting up and raising my arms in victory as Rocky Balboa did on the steps of the Philadelphia library. Sitting up and throwing his arms out in victory, Jeremy echoed, "I'm Evan's SON!" We both laughed, hugging each other again. Then we grew quiet, basking in our good feelings. "Ah-oh," Jeremy groaned, leaning back to look into my face, eyes rolling. "What?" I asked, growing concerned. "Well, Dad, you know what this means, don't you?" I'd been so "up" that I couldn't think of anything "down" at this point. "No? What is it?" I asked, beginning to worry. His eyebrows arched. "This means we are about to be visited by one of our friends." We looked for a moment into each other's eyes. "LaRonda!" we said in unison, laughing. "Wanna bet when the visit will occur?" he asked, eyes alight. I paused for thought. "Some evening this week . . . after dinner," I replied. "How soon LaRonda will hear that I'm adopting you will depend on how many of her contacts are in town and when she sees them. . . . She'll know you'll be home from work and available after dinner. . . . And if you're here, Kenny will probably be as well. He better be here so that she can secure the fullest information possible or she'll be nailing him to the wall at school." We both shook our heads in agreement. Groaning, Jeremy rolled out of bed, walking out the door to his room, giving me a good shot of his proud morning wood and his svelte ass. I heard his shower turn on. I arose, pulled on my bathrobe, and crutch- walked to the kitchen to prepare a quick breakfast for Jeremy. After fifteen minutes he came in, his hair damp, wearing jeans, Nikes, and a red sweatshirt bearing the school's name. "Hey, where'd you get the sweatshirt?" "A Christmas gift from Troy and Susan. I think they were feeling sorry for me because we'd talked several times about how unhappy I was with Mom." "They consider you a close friend, too, Jeremy. You surely aren't discounting that." He shrugged his shoulders, but I knew he believed that he had a special relationship with them. "I still owe them a gift. I told them because of my mom's situation, I couldn't spare any money for gifts for friends - well, except for Kenny and you. They understood, so I said I'd owe them. Just one more thing Mom cheated me out of - giving my friends Christmas gifts." "If you need me to stake you so that you can get something, let me know." "First I have to figure out what to get the perfect couple. What can you get a couple who love each other? They've already got what's important." "Give them something that speaks to their particular couplehood, to that beauty they've created. I have three ideas." "Shoot," he directed. "Check out sales at your store today - DVD or taped movies if Troy and Susan have a favorite - couples in love often do - 'their' movie, you know. CDs for a couple's favorite song, things like that. If you come up empty on that, you can visit with Marcie Randall at the mall - " "Who's Marcie Randall at the mall?" he broke in. "The young woman who helped us when we were buying your clothes. You remember how much she and Susan hit it off. She was a great help when I bought your Christmas gifts. And she likes us." "Oh, yeah. She was nice." "Third, you could allow me to throw in with you and we could give Susan and Troy a candlelight dinner for two at Francini's or Club Eleven. Maybe Kenny would want to throw in too. Even Cody if they haven't already done something. Whatever suits you." He cocked his head to the side, pushing his lower lip up against his upper lip in thought. "Might be a plan. I'll think about it today at work and we can discuss it this evening." "Deal." I replied. "Is the gift you gave Kenny a secret?" He pulled down the neck of his sweatshirt, revealing a thin gold-link chain. "I gave Kenny one and I have one." I smiled. "Nice. What did Kenny give you?" Jeremy grinned. "I told him the only thing I wanted was to demonstrate my love for him and have him show me how much he loved me. That's what we were doing in my bedroom that night after we came back here from Club Eleven. It was sweet, Evan, so hot." He grinned devilishly again. "Want to hear about it?" I shrugged my shoulders - two could play that game. "The minute we met to go to Club Eleven, it's like we had this unspoken agreement that this was going to be a date to remember. For once we didn't chatter a lot on the way there. Instead, we gave each other these hot looks. While I was driving, he reached over and ever so softly ran a fingertip around the edges of my lips, then up to my ear, and then gently massaged my ear lobe. I reached over and ran my fingertips lightly around his kneecap and up the inside of his thigh. Even though it was only light petting, by the time we arrived at Club Eleven, we were both hard as rocks. We had to sit in the car to let our cocks go down. But you know us. They wouldn't go down! So Kenny got the idea of taking turns describing the worst turn-off we could imagine. He described what it would be like trying to get it on with Price, Mom's boyfriend. We would throw in details that made it awful," he said, sporting a dopey grin. "That cooled us off pretty quickly." "During the beginning of the meal, we kept shooting these hot looks at each other. Then we just spontaneously started mentioning little details about what each one of us was going to do to the other when we got in my bed. Man, we got so hot. When we reached my car in the Club Eleven parking lot, Kenny got so carried away that he grabbed me and threw me back onto the lid of the trunk. He crawled up on me and began kissing me with his legs clasped tightly about me as though he were a wrestler trying to pin me to the mat. We must have looked hot. Still, I'm glad nobody saw us. I suddenly realized that more than one couple had really let go in the parking lot after dinner at Club Eleven - Robert Martin and Lisa Wemberly, Jeremy and Kenny. Was it the atmosphere? Was it the food? Was it the freedom to anonymous? "We made it to your house in record time, and once we knew you weren't there, ran down the hall tearing off our clothes. But I realized that there was always the chance you might not come home alone, so we ran back and picked our clothes up and dumped them in a pile in our room. That's why we came out to talk to you in our briefs. We were hot and sweaty and didn't want to sort our clothes out and put them on." I grinned, cocking my head back and looking up at the ceiling. "Let's see - did I complain?" He chuckled. "In my room, I started undressing Kenny so slowly, licking and kissing his face, ears, neck, right on down to the goodies. Evan, a man tastes so good - everywhere - when you're in love with him! I kept my hands on that luscious ass, just clasping, massaging, stroking, caressing it. Oh! I love that ass." "It's a classic," I agreed. "Then Kenny started undressing me. But when he got my pullover off, he pushed me back on the bed and tied into me like a hot little tiger. "Ha-che-wawa!" he exclaimed, eyes closed, smiling. "Did that ever feel good." Jeremy looked in my eyes. "He wanted me, Evan. I could feel the power of his wanting me!" "Ha-che-wawa?" I asked. "Remember, that's what that little Ewok says in the third "Star Wars" movie. He's just surprised Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia, who were hiding behind a log. The little Ewok pops up and stands on the log behind which they are hiding in the redwood forest. The three study each other warily. Then a stormtrooper hidden somewhere in the forest shoots at the Ewok with a blaster, hitting the log and startling him. That's what the Ewok exclaims." "Oh, yeah - I remember now. Ha-che-wawa! Pretty good." "Ha-che-wawa!" Jeremy echoed playfully. "Well, Kenny got my pants off, pretty much eating me alive everywhere. What a little carnivore! He grabbed the lube I kept in my nightstand and lubed himself and then me. You wouldn't believe it, Evan. He started out sitting on my dick. What that man can do with his ass muscles and hips! It was like a dance!" He looked at me in puzzlement. "He must have had a lot of practice, or he's just a natural bottom. Then he grabbed me and slowly rolled backward, pulling me on top. We fucked like that for a while. I don't think I've ever had so many parts of my cock sending me pleasure: the top, middle, and bottom of my shaft - even the place where my shaft joins my body. And my balls! They were so stimulated, sometimes I thought they were inside Kenny too. Then we fucked on our sides, then doggie style. I don't know how many ways we tried it. For our final ride, Kenny wanted on his back. So I crawled between his legs and slid my cock in him. Then he started doing things with his legs and feet as his ass muscles that really gave my dick a workout. He climaxed just a little before me. So hot, Evan!" He looked out into the family room, remembering. "What a Christmas present," shaking his head in wonderment. "Don't forget who inspired Kenny." He looked at me, caught it, and laughed. He gobbled down his breakfast. "I better head out, Evan. The day's moving on." Jeremy donned his old coat and was off after another good- bye hug. "Sorry, Evan, you're going to have to put up with a lot of hugs for a little bit. I just can't believe all the good stuff that's happened." That mischievous gleam arose in his eyes. "I'll probably get tired of you in a couple of weeks, so you won't have to put up with it too long." I reached around and pinched his butt hard. "Ouch! Child abuse already after only a few hours!" he laughed. "See you this evening." I sat at the kitchen table, enjoying my cup of coffee, running Jeremy's account of his Christmas present from Kenny across my mental screen, growing hard in the process, then reliving yesterday's and last night's events, basking in the afterglow. I arose, showered, made the bed, and poured a cup of coffee in a capped thermal mug to carry to the sunroom without spilling. With no plans for the day, I thought I ought to make some. I was mulling the logistics of taking down the Christmas tree, the approach of New Year's, remembering that classes would begin again the day after New Year's. I frowned. A quick check-up with Dr. Sorenson saw me still on my crutches. He'd not been fully convinced after the exam that I was quite ready to toss them. I assured him I was. He had firmly assured me that I'd probably be rid of them after New Year's. Suddenly, Alan Frazier's face arose on my mental screen, not an unpleasant prospect. How remarkably that whole short visit in my classroom had played itself out. I already regretted that Alan and I would never be friends. Tim certainly wasn't worthy of Alan. Given what Alan knew about Tim, why did he stay with him? Immediately, I remembered the hot sex scenes Tim and I had shared. Yeah, that's why. I guess Alan and I both liked Tim's body. Tim was hot. A young fellow Alan's age had to be flattered that a guy like Tim came after him and even dumped somebody else for him. Why in the world did Alan seek me out? Could cause trouble with Tim if he found out. Brokering an understanding with me on Wendy's behalf just wasn't a convincing motive. Wendy possessed a sure enough sense of herself that she was quite capable of effecting an understanding between us on her own. And while Alan's explanation that he was curious about me seemed some kind of justification at first for his appearing at my classroom door, it wasn't sufficient in the last analysis. No, there was something else there, something that had not been spoken, not been addressed. Hm-m-m-m-m-m. A mystery. Well, I would probably never see it resolved because our paths would never cross again. I wondered what he and Tim had worked out about Alan's remaining behind in college. A distance relationship? A more sobering question arose - how long before Tim dumped Alan too? Alan intimated that he knew his time with Tim was limited. Odd. He seemed okay with that. Either he was stronger than I, or he and Tim hadn't reached a point where each had invested that much in the other. Or maybe I was desperate when Alan wasn't. Ouch! That stung. Just so Alan wasn't hurt. I wouldn't want that. It was clear that I was moving through the transition away from Tim at a rapid clip. Alan's visit had clearly helped in that process. No way Alan could have known that - although he was a nice enough guy that he might have paid a visit if it would help. Oh! I suddenly saw it - what would be revenge against Tim if I were at all interested in revenge - and I wasn't. What was dismaying was the irony that Tim would levy his own revenge against himself. Like me, he wanted a man in his life, an intimate relationship. He wanted love too. But that vicious push-pull dynamic he'd gotten himself into would forever rob him of that goal. The more he was pulled toward his dream man, the closer he came to pushing himself away from that dream man out of fear that he couldn't control what would occur. Did that mean that in his heart of hearts Tim was afraid of himself? What could he fear so much about control that he'd throw away what was so alluring? Throw away some great guys? And what a contorted view of a loving relationship he had if he believed it rested on who was in control. Too many people think that way. I flashed on the discussion of control issues Jarod Paine and I had had weeks ago outside the school when he and Valerie Cunningham were on the outs. Why didn't Tim know that sometimes giving up control was an aphrodisiac? It was one of the reasons I was turned on when Robert and Kenny bound me during the first ambushes. Tim was imaginative enough to understand this point about giving up control. No, I suddenly realized. He was too afraid. I could see it playing itself out over the years ever more dismally. As Tim grew older, he would be less attractive to most young guys Alan's age, who were usually interested only in men around their own age. So he would make himself into bait for the scavengers, grabbers, and users, who would be out to get the most self-benefit that they could. Tim wouldn't have to push them away. They'd leave as soon as they tired of him or found someone better. As Tim aged, his trouble would be keeping them around long enough to fool himself that he was approaching a real relationship. Finally, he'd have to settle for the predators. What a dreadful prospect! Even before he became bait for predators, Tim would have to field a lot of self- delusion just to keep going, just to keep himself even with the world. I wouldn't wish his future on my worst enemy - had I one. He could escape it only if something extraordinary shook him out of the track he was in. I didn't believe it would happen. I suddenly remembered that I needed to call Miles Forbisher, my attorney, about the adoption. After my divorce, I had told Miles that his wonderful name would have made me his client for that reason alone. He was a highly competent attorney, safe-guarding me every step of the way through the divorce and in other legal matters. When others rehearsed their divorce woes, I realized that Miles had saved me a lot of grief. I phoned Miles's office. His secretary, Rosamond, a motherly type, answered. I started to explain my situation since she already knew me, but she interrupted. "You can speak to Miles himself, Evan. He's in the office today. I'll put you through. You need to come by the office one of these days to say hello." Miles hailed from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, so he was Southern hospitality personified. 'True Southern gentry,' I mused. I wondered why he had left the South. I'd have to ask him sometime. He still had a trace of a Southern accent so charming that I couldn't help smiling every time I heard it. "Evan Halsey!" Miles boomed out in joyful greeting, letting me know I was still esteemed by him. He was a big man, tall, brown hair, nice shoulders, good body (he was a jogger), auburn eyes, hot ass. More than once he'd caught me studying it in his office when he was turned the right way, earning a grin from him. He had never married. I always wondered if that meant what I sometimes suspected. We liked each other from the first meeting. "Happy New Year!" he continued. "I hope this call means that you discovered that you were missing your attorney, so you called just to check that he was still around. No trouble, I hope." I chuckled. "Well, now that you mention it, I guess I usually bring you trouble when I call. But no, this time it's something good, a dream come true." "Oh-h-h-h?" I could hear his interest piqued. "I'm going to be a dad." "Evan, you dawg! Been sowing your wild oats, huh?" He paused. "Got kind of a late start, didn't you? Oh hell, why am I complaining? Finally I get to deal with a case that might be lurid. My practice has been boring lately. My lawyer friends think I never have any interesting cases. But I find it strange to use the words 'lurid' and 'Evan Halsey' in the same breath," he teased. "What is it? That lounge singer who sat on your lap in that bar in Amarillo? Now an adult child from her shows up? Or was it some dance hall queen you made happy? "No - nothing like that. I'm going to adopt one of my students." He didn't answer immediately, for I could hear the "lawyer gears" kicking in. "A student?" "Yes, Jeremy Wilder. He's 18, by the way. He's never really had supportive parents. His dad's run off from irritating city life to the wilds of Wyoming - nobody knows exactly where. I hope that's not going to be a problem for us, by the way. Jeremy caught his mother impressing him into labor with stories of financial hardships when she was actually hiding quite a nice little nest egg. She has a new boyfriend who doesn't cotton to Jeremy. The feeling's mutual. This all came out on Christmas Day. Jeremy had been living with me before that because his parents had kicked him out. His mother drew him back with a pity play after her husband ran away. However, Jeremy moved back to my place on Christmas Day when the denouement finally presented itself - with some prompting from Jeremy." I wondered if I should mention Kenny's place in Jeremy's life. I decided that was none of my business or anybody else's unless Jeremy and Kenny chose to make it so. Sharing information about Kenny was up to Jeremy, for it was his life, not mine. And I was pleased that I harbored no urge at all to divulge the information. The fact that he was going to become my son didn't mean his life belonged to me even though we'd decided we belonged to each other. After I'd drawn the vignette that had played itself out over Christmas, Miles was silent. I knew he was pondering all the details and their ramifications, looking for potential problems. "He's 18, you say?" "Yes. Please resolve a bothersome question for me now, Miles. Since Jeremy's now 18, we don't need his parents to write-off on this, do we?" "No, Jeremy's his own man now," Miles answered. "Sounds like he wanted a dad?" "He did. When they kicked him out, he was living in his car and sleeping nights in the school gym sometimes. He's a good man, Miles. HE asked me to adopt him. I feel so honored by that request." "I'm guessing that no pressing reasons are prompting this decision, that you two just want it for your own reasons. Of course, being Evan Halsey, you've probably got the kid thinking you can part the waters." "Hey! Don't turn nasty now," I warned, faking umbrage. He laughed heartily. Like Jeremy, he probably thought he'd pushed one of my buttons. "Well, I'll have you talk to Rosamond to set up an appointment. I want to see you and Jeremy together. I want to meet your son-to-be. Have you considered what other decisions this action may entail?" I thought for a few seconds. "I'm guessing you mean my will. Yeah. He'll be my heir. I need to change my will too. Actually, the only change I'll make is to name him heir to my estate. And I'll change the references to the charity and my church included in my will to percentages of the estate. Why don't you suggest what you think is reasonable because I've only just now thought about it. But I want the bulk of the estate to go to Jeremy." I thought a moment. "He's a sensible young man, but I don't want his mother doing another pity play on him so that he hands anything I leave him over to her. Perhaps you and I should discuss whether a trust is necessary before Jeremy and I come over. Oh, yeah - do we need to put his name on the deed to this house?" "Do you want to discuss this in front of him? It might upset some kids," he mused. "And give other kids unsavory ideas!" We both laughed at that. "Not Jeremy. Yes, I want him to know." "I think we can write the codicil in such a way that a trust won't be necessary. Are you planning to continue with me as executor?" "Of course." "I think a trust won't be necessary then. I know what your wishes are in regard to sharing any proceeds with his biological parents. We'll express that as a clause in the codicil such that no transfer of proceeds to another party from Jeremy can occur without my approval until, say, Jeremy is 30 years old." Miles paused a moment. "What about his surname? Is he planning to change that to yours?" "Hm-m-m, I don't know. We'll talk about it before we see you." He shifted me to Rosamond, who helped me set an after-school appointment for Jeremy and me. I told her I was bringing someone special to meet her and Miles. "Evan, another mystery! You not only love to read them but also love to create them. I guess I'll have to wait until next week for this one to be solved." We said our good-byes. As I hung up, I felt that something in my life had finally fallen into place rightfully. * * * After a light lunch, I decided the best course of action was to remove all the ornaments and lights from the Christmas tree. Then I'd pack those away. This plan would require less moving about. It was slow work, but I was making some progress when there was a knock at the door. "Come in!" I yelled. Kenny pushed the door open. "Hey, Kenny. What's up?" He walked over, bent down, and kissed me. "Hey, Daddy-in-law," he greeted me with a loving smile, an acknowledgement of the new level to which our relationship was going to move. He was certainly referring to me that way a lot. And I realized that he was genuinely pleased, another instance of his and Jeremy's sharing something intimate. "Guess what. LaRonda called to see if I was going to be with Jeremy this evening. I told her I was. She wanted to know where. I said here. So then I called Jeremy. He was really cracking up. Do you know why?" I grinned. "Jeremy predicted this morning that LaRonda would come calling as soon as her vast network of contacts alerted her to Jeremy's imminent change in status. You just proved that he has the abilities of a seer." "But why does she want me here?" "To extract the fullest degree of information possible from the most directly involved sources. You are the 'color' interview. Hey! That's the occupation LaRonda should consider. Journalism." "Are you going to tell her?" "I'll suggest it when the moment is right." Kenny took his jacket to Jeremy's room, snagged a soda from the refrigerator, and started unwinding and removing the lights from the tree. As Kenny and I worked at undecorating the tree, we chatted about school, his family, college, the spring semester. But we would take breaks too, especially when the conversation became substantial as it did when he asked me questions about my earlier life. After about an hour, we heard a car pull into the driveway. Jeremy came bounding through the door, walked over to Kenny, pulled him up and into a loving clinch and kiss, which they held so long I wondered if I could resuscitate two people at the same time. Finally, they broke, looking into each other's eyes. Then Jeremy turned, looked at me, walked over, fell down on his knees, and kissed me. When he broke the kiss, he hugged me tightly. Then he arose. "Okay, guys, what's the plan here?" We explained what we were doing and Jeremy joined in. Not 15 minutes had passed when we heard a car pull up at the curb. Some seconds later we heard two car doors close. The three of us looked at each other, smiling, for we knew who the visitors were. A knock at the door brought Jeremy up off the floor and over to the door. When he opened it, LaRonda shot through the door and into his arms, hugging him and squealing, "Oh Jeremy, I'm so happy for you." Clifton just stood back, smiling, watching his two friends. LaRonda pulled away, wiping tears from her cheeks. "I can't help it," she explained a little breathlessly. She headed toward me, so I arose just in time to catch her in my arms. My! She WAS happy. Meanwhile, Clifton hugged Jeremy, congratulating him, then hugging Kenny. Finally, LaRonda shot over and hugged Kenny. Clifton greeted me, "Evan, how ya' doin'?" while he hugged me. When LaRonda realized the nature of our labors, she directed Clifton to sit on the floor and help out. Then she asked Jeremy for a recitation of the story of the adoption. While working quietly, she concentrated on the details as Jeremy related the same account he's shared on Christmas afternoon. At the end of the tale, Clifton observed, "It sounds like a real Christmas story. I bet you guys will always remember and talk about the Christmas of 2001. I wish there were more stories like these at Christmas. I don't think there are better presents than the ones you guys are receiving," he concluded. "Just think, Jeremy - when you were going through all the bad stuff, you didn't know the good stuff was just around the corner." "Yeah," said Jeremy with some venom, "I can hardly wait to go to Mom's and tell her that I have a better parent and home, someone who loves me, cares for me, doesn't use me, and is going to be my real parent." LaRonda shot me a glance that spoke volumes, for we both knew that that behavior wasn't consistent with Jeremy's character. "May I suggest something?" I interposed. Jeremy looked at me. "Shoot." "Think twice about going to your mom's house to express your feelings. In fact, consider not even expressing them to her at all." He was studying me. "But Evan," he spoke softly, "she kicked me out, then asked me back only to use me." There was a slight catch in his voice. "She has no love for me." LaRonda looked at Jeremy, her eyes warm with care, love, empathy. "I need to explain something about the rules of hospitality," I started. "I'm telling you this because I admire and respect you. In many ways, you're my hero." He looked up at me, surprised at what I'd just admitted. Clifton and Kenny paused in picking ornaments off the tree, extracting the hanging hooks and dropping them in a little box, and putting them away in their boxes. They were studying Jeremy and me. Only LaRonda continued as though nothing of any import had been said, but I knew she was listening carefully; in fact, she probably knew the gist of what I was about to say. "According to traditions of hospitality, one does not enter another's home and then put him or her down, for that person enters as a guest, no matter how unwelcome. Nor does he invite another to his home to put that person down, for that person is a guest there. It's inhospitable. It isn't decent. If such words absolutely need to be said, they are spoken in a place neutral to the two parties." "A more important way to frame the issue for proper consideration is to ask this question: Is putting your mother down justice enough for what she did?" I asked gently, looking him in the eyes. Clifton had quietly gone back to work, but he too was attending to this exchange. Kenny was focused on Jeremy, frowning, his brow wrinkled with worry. Jeremy continued gazing at me, but he was weighing, struggling, hurting. This discussion was necessary to ending the hurt so that it didn't become a wound that would never heal. "I don't think so. What's justice for rejecting a child?" "At the end of earthly life," I began an answer, "when a person is called to judgment for stewardship of the gifts given him or her, what can a parent say who wantonly rejected a child? Just to be fair, I'm not talking about biological parents who find that it's better to allow a child to go to someone who's ready to be a better parent. Not every human is meant to be a parent. And I'm not talking about parents who turn to Tough Love, assuming that that's the final resort. I don't mean those parents. I'm talking about your parents, Jeremy, on whom I should not sit in judgment. I don't need to. Their judgment will happen in its own time at the seat of Providence. And the justice meted out to them? Don't even think about it. It's horrible. Like the worst torments, it will occur inside them, but there will be no agency to provide relief, for they threw away the gift they had been given. And there will be no one to offer solace to them. They will be closed off from anyone and anything. And they will yearn to return to that fatal moment to turn away from their error, but that moment will never be revisited. They will see how other possibilities existed, but they blinded themselves to them. Now what can anyone say to them that will be greater punishment than that? "That's why in this instance, as in so many others, the best justice is your success right here in this home, and in your own home when you reach that point in your life, and in the rest of your life. The best revenge is always success! You never have to reproach those who have injured, reviled, or hurt you, for your good circumstances speak loudly in their own right. They cannot be rebutted. And you have not diminished or demeaned yourself by putting another down. "If you were to read your mother off, you would find it a hollow victory. You would be shocked to discover how quickly after blurting out your feelings that you felt no satisfaction, no contentment, just emptiness and major frustration. People in your mother's position have to subscribe to your values and feelings for your words to have any effect on them. But their behavior has already made it clear that they don't share those values and feelings. If they did, they would not have rejected you. Thus, you will never secure the reaction you want. "Even more, trying to get even with your mother could lead to your carrying regret around on your shoulders the rest of your life. NOT pleasant!" I swallowed hard, reviewing my life. "I'm not talking about little regrets. Just the big ones. There's an acid edge to big regrets. It sears the soul. I don't know of any antidote for it. That's why those who are wise do not want regret ruling their lives. And I want to save you from that, Jeremy." "Like what kind of regrets are you talking about, Evan?" Kenny asked. I was concentrating on placing little carousel horse ornaments behind elastic string in a special box that protected their fragile beauty, but I was really looking back down my life. "For anyone, such regrets might result from mistakes made, ill treatment by others, certain decisions, failings, disappointments, I guess," I smiled, still not looking up. "I'm not talking about bank robbery or any behavior as egregious as that." "I can't imagine Evan Halsey having regrets," Clifton observed. I smiled, intent on my task. "He's human, so he's going to have them," I replied. "You talk as though you have big regrets you're carrying around. So like what are your regrets?" Jeremy asked. They weren't going to let this point pass by quickly. "Trusting too quickly, giving too freely, expecting too much, not giving enough credit to the darker side of human nature, caring more than others wish or need, focusing too much on the ideal." I was suddenly aware of the sound of only my voice in the room. A glance up from my labors revealed all of them staring at me. I blushed. "Though its causes may be manifold, in the end regret is a parasite, sapping one's spirit, stealing energy, starving the soul. You're too wonderful, too strong, too sensible, too caring, too wise, Jeremy, to allow that to happen to you." They had all stopped their work, just looking at me. I blushed again. "Really pompous there, Evan," that inner voice said. 'No,' I replied in my mind to the voice; 'just inviting the initiates into wisdom.' Jeremy arose, walked over to me, knelt down, leaned forward and hugged me. "Okay. I've always known you loved me, Evan," then he looked at the others, "loved all of us." He returned to his tasks on the floor. "Did you call your lawyer, Evan?" "Yes, you and I have an appointment to meet with Miles early next week. Before then, we have to reach some decisions." "Decisions like what?" "For openers, what will your name be? Will you keep your name or change it" "You're going to be my dad. What do you want me to do?" "Jeremy, this is your call. This issue is too personal for someone other than you to decide." I smiled to reassure him. "But don't you expect me to take your name?" "Jeremy, you'll be my son. What more could I want or ask? Besides, I've always liked the name 'Wilder.'" I grinned devilishly. "Now a name like 'Clifton Washington III' is a challenge." Though puzzled, Clifton grinned. LaRonda turned her head slightly aside, lowered her chin, and looked at me as though to ask, "What mischief are you up to, Halsey?" I continued, "Imagine the woman you'd have to find to do justice to a name like that! Why, you could hunt a lifetime the world over and never find the woman suitable to such a noble name." Clifton and Kenny snorted in glee, for LaRonda had narrowed her eyes looking at me." "The hunt's over, Bub! The wo-o-o-man's done been found! No lifetime needed," she stated moving her head and hips with attitude as she spoke. I roared. Jeremy smiled, amused. Kenny was cracking up. Clifton tried to stifle a laugh as he crawled over and kissed LaRonda. "Baby, you took the very words right out of my mouth!" he stated charmingly. She melted, smiled, giggled. "Jeremy James Wilder Halsey. That's a mouthful," Jeremy said. "Jeremy James Halsey. Jeremy Wilder Halsey." He was trying them out. "Hey Love," he said, looking at Kenny. "If you were to marry me, what name would you want?" Kenny contemplated the issue for the first time ever in his life, I imagined. "I don't know. If guys marry, do they change their names?" Jeremy looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders. "What other decisions?" Jeremy quizzed me. "About my estate and what happens when that becomes an issue." "Evan, I've just gotten you. I don't want to think about losing you." "I've had a will for several years, you know. At the time that it becomes active, you won't want to be dealing with a lot of big decisions. In addition, part of loving you is ensuring that you are properly situated for your own future, which means some slight changes in my will need to occur. Such discussions need not be painful; they're just annoying. Besides, it gives me the greatest of pleasure to look out for you in any way I can. If I am ever to move into the Super Parent Track, you have to allow me to do this." "If we have to talk about this, must it be on an empty stomach?" Jeremy asked sassily. But his eyes were glittering more than usual, which told me he'd have spilled tears if the conversation continued. LaRonda was smiling as she was tucking little wooden ornaments in their box. She looked up at me and winked. "Pizza time!" I popped off. We decided what we wanted and ordered it delivered. Clifton and LaRonda agreed to stay and help us polish the pizza off. We were nearing the end of our labors, so while I went to the kitchen to order the pizza, LaRonda marshaled the crew into storing the boxes away until next year, moving the tree to the porch for recycling, and vacuuming up the dry needles. Christmas was officially over. * * * The first day of school after New Year's Day found me in my classroom early, which is exactly where Wendy Fielding located me. As soon as I saw her I knew she'd come to class early to talk to me. "Mr. Halsey. All the news I'm hearing tells me you had a great holiday. You're going to be a father! I grinned like an idiot. "Yeah, I guess you heard that I'm adopting Jeremy. I imagine everybody thinks it's weird." "No, they don't. Strong parents aren't something Jeremy's had in his life, but now he's going to make it happen. Everybody thinks it's typical of the kind of can-do person Jeremy has turned into. Quite a change in just over four months. He's like Prince Charming, turning a dream into reality. First he saved Kenny. Then he went after you for a dad. They also think you are a perfect father for him. More than a few are envious. I guess they believe you two will spend all your time joking and teasing the way you do in class." I just chuckled. "They haven't stopped to think about Jeremy's being under Evan Halsey's dreaded eye," she continued. "Hey, I'm not that bad!" Boy! People were poking fun at me of late. Then I realized that it indicated how securely they knew they were held in my good will. "And your break was pleasant? Probably filled with a lot of Shane McComber?" She smiled. "Oh yeah. Very nice. Shane and I are a perfect fit. . . . Mr. Halsey, Alan Frazier told me about his visit with you. That is, he passed on your message that I should come see you. I was feeling bad about that class period when I asked why you didn't attend Tim Minor's party. Alan said he explained why I asked that." "Yes. I hope he relayed my comment that I knew you had been set up, that you haven't a mean bone in your body, that everything is okay with us." "I'm so relieved," she responded. I noticed students filtering into the room. I decided to continue chatting with Wendy so that students would see that we were okay with each other. I asked for details about her family's Christmas. I found a place or two to joke with her so that we could be seen laughing. It wasn't lost on those in the classroom, who were studying our interaction. It was easy to tell that the students were just back from a vacation, for they were chattering away. As Wendy walked to her desk, I noticed several students smiling and speaking to her. I was glad that she wasn't going to be frozen out. I used the time to take roll. "Mr. Halse-e-e-e-e-y. Don't you have something you want to tell us?" LaKeisha asked, stopping just short of batting her eyes at me. 'Oh brother,' I thought. The room immediately grew quiet - LaKeisha was on stage. Okay. We could play a little. I cocked my head to one side, looking up at the ceiling as if in thought. "Oh yes. Happy New Year. . . I missed you all. . . Glad to see you back. . . Let's get to work!" "No, no, no," I heard a vehement protest - from otherwise quiet, demure Angela Walker! Everyone turned to look at her - as surprised as I. The most surprised among us appeared to be Tony. For the first time ever I observed him so caught off-guard that his jaw dropped. What an image! I'd never forget it, for I doubted one would very often see Tony so surprised. Angela blushed upon realizing how strongly she had protested and how much attention was focused on her. She swallowed, beginning again. "Mr. Halsey, we've all spent half a school year together. We're kind of like a family. When something nice happens, you're supposed to share it with members of the family. Otherwise, you suggest that the family members aren't important. That's what LaKeisha means." Both LaKeisha and LaRonda turned to look at me, their eyebrows arched as though they were saying in chorus, "See, we told you; listen to our sister." Susan's was hiding her smile behind her hand, but she gave me a small nod of encouragement. I arched my eyebrows and lowered my chin, accepting the challenge. "Very well. . . . Ladies and gentlemen of Halsey's Ramparts, even now the wheels of justice have been set in motion, auguring to make . . ." and here I paused for effect, looking at Jeremy and breaking out in a grin to be matched by his. Kathleen Burge pushed her door open wider as she stood out in the hall with a clear view of my classroom. Apparently she'd heard LaKeisha and Angela and anticipated what I was about to announce. Jim Belton happened by, stopping by Kathleen, looking in. " . . . even now auguring to make one of your own, Jeremy James Wilder, my son, which of course means . . ." a huge smile broke out on my face as my eyebrows rose . . . "I'll be his dad." I don't know where it started first, but Kathleen was clapping and so were Susan and Troy, Angela and Tony, Beth and Paul, Wendy. I heard it picked up by Kathleen's students in their classroom, even though I couldn't see them. It grew in my room too and echoed down the halls. Byron Okata looked around at everyone as though he couldn't figure out what was being celebrated. As the clapping diminished and ended, Byron muttered quietly, "Poor Jeremy," but not quietly enough that it wasn't heard. Laughter leapt from my students' throats. Kathleen walked to her door, relaying Byron's words to her class, and the laughter spilled out of that classroom. I could imagine teachers and students down the adjacent long hall looking at each other, wondering what insurrection was afoot at our end of the hall. I knew an account of it would be common knowledge among the general school population by the end of the lunch period. Kathleen looked back and waved, walked into her classroom, shutting the door. Jim Belton smiled and gave me a little wave and went on his way. Tony turned to Byron. "Don't you understand, Man? Jeremy's a shoo-in for the Honor Roll now. The 'A's will come rolling in." Byron looked at Jeremy and then back at Tony, not quite certain if he should take Tony's remark seriously. Snickers occurred here and there around the room. Jeremy took all his classmates in during a sweeping glance, catching everyone's eye. "He gave me a 'D' on my last essay," he told them. "He's still the same old Evan." A groan or two accompanied Jeremy's news. I frowned at him. "Ooops!" he jumped in. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I EARNED a 'D' on my last essay." My frown ceased, I smiled a bit, nodding my head at him. "And as you have observed," I began archly, "Jeremy's still the irreverent, cheeky b- " I caught myself just in time, " - buckaroo he's always been." Troy, Jeremy, and Tony snorted like buffalos, trying to stifle laughter, for they knew the slip I'd about made. They started the class off laughing again, with Byron joining this time. By gosh, we just might teach Byron to loosen up and have a little fun. I caught Susan's and then Troy's eyes, directing them to Byron. I raised my eyebrows as though to ask, "What do you think? Can we help Byron a little?" Susan gave me a little affirmative nod, which Troy caught, and then he winked at me. The liberation of Byron Okata from rigid formalism and exactitude was underway. * * * At the end of the last class that day, Jim Belton did one of his pop-ins as I was putting away papers and books on my desk and making certain that my calendar was in my attache. "I was glad to hear the good news today," he started, no smile. "That boy was due for some good luck. Plenty of talk earlier in the fall among the kids about Jeremy's bad luck at home. You know, I discovered that Jeremy was sneaking in the gym at night for a warm place to sleep. I guess I could have been fired for not ratting him out, but I knew that boy was carrying a heavy load on his shoulders. He wasn't going to hurt anybody or anything catching a few winks in the school at night. So I kept an eye on him but let it pass. I know lots but tell little." "I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one concerned about Jeremy. You're a good man, Jim. Thank you for helping Jeremy that way." Jim never acknowledged compliments. "You seen Tim Minor's new replacement?" he asked. "No. But you're right. With the semester beginning right after New Year's, we'd have to have this person on board now. Man or woman?" I asked. "Dunno," he replied. "I'll be running into whoever it is one of these days." Jim continued to stand there watching me finish restoring my desk to order. I looked up at him now and again. 'He wants to say something,' I thought. 'Must be tough because he's taking a lot of time to work up to it.' Jim swallowed. "Know any lawyers, Evan?" "I know mine, Miles Forbisher. I like him a lot. He's also very good at what he does. Jeremy and I will be meeting with him this week about the adoption. But I don't really know many other lawyers." I was silent, allowing him time to determine his next step. "My wife and I are splitting." I stopped my packing. "Jim, I'm sorry. No matter what the situation, divorce is an unpleasant experience. I'm sorry you have to go through it." "I need a good lawyer. I don't want to lose my farm in the settlement. The farm's been in my family for generations. My wife doesn't care for it, but she might like the money a sale of the place would bring. If I lose the farm, it'll cut a big chunk out of my heart," he said in the longest confessional I'd ever heard from him. And the disclosure! Jim NEVER revealed much at all about his personal life. He must be really worried. Nothing was said for a bit. "Would you like the address of my lawyer? If you don't want him for an attorney, he would be happy to suggest others to you. And he wouldn't feel bad if you went to one of those other lawyers. Here, let me give you his address and phone number. If you decide you need help, call him. Believe me, you'll feel comfortable with him." I fished Miles's business card out of my billfold, writing the pertinent information on a notepad and handing the sheet to Jim. When he took it, I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you." I knew it was unlikely that Jim would take me up on the offer. If there were ever a type to suffer in silence, Jim Belton was it. Jim nodded. "Thanks, Evan." Then he walked out of the room, leaving me there deep in thought about how bad this must be for him. I didn't think he was a man comfortable outside his well-established, narrow habits, so the loss of his farm would be a devastating blow. I hoped his wife still cared enough about him to think about that. There was so much about Jim that I didn't know. I felt that we had discovered another Byron Okata. I'd have to watch to see if Jim needed any assistance. He certainly wouldn't ask for it. * * * Classes flew by the next morning. I didn't run into Jim anywhere. I didn't hear anything about Tim's replacement. During lunch, I was sitting at my desk, eating the last of my usual fare, an apple, staring off into space. Something big filled my left peripheral vision. I looked over to see this massive man filling the doorway of my classroom. My cock jumped in my pants. A man's man! He was huge, but he wasn't fat. Just . . . gigantic and well built. My first thought was that he was lost, so he wanted directions. But no one would get lost down the short hall where my classroom was located. So he must be the father of one of my students. Parental interest in a child's progress in school? A complaint? Not smiling, he strode into the room and up to the desk. He stuck out his hand. "You're Evan Halsey. I'm Ron Hamilton." "Hello, Ron" I said, shaking his hand. As soon as I touched his hand, an electric current shot up my arm to my heart, shortening my breath. Like the man, the hand was massive, tough with muscle. My hand was lost in its warm expanse. I was staring at him. He still wasn't smiling. Ron had to be as tall as Tim, shoulders just as wide, but he made Tim look willowy. It was his lats, which flared out. This guy was all beef! He had black curly hair, which he wore short. His eyes were wide set, blue, and intense, made more so by heavy black brows setting off even more the blue of his eyes, which were studying me intently. His nose was straight, broad, and long. He had a strong, square chin. Like everything else, his mouth was sized just right for his face, and his lips were full. He had a heavy beard, his whiskers shadowing his cheeks and squared chin. He didn't have a bull neck, but it wasn't small. He looked like a hunky construction worker. Though covered with a burgundy pullover, his massive chest made my pulse quicken. His pecs were big and round, and one could see his nipples pushing against the cloth of his pullover. If my hand hadn't been clasped in his, I might have had to sit on it to keep from reaching out and tweaking the nearest nip. His arms bulged with muscle. This guy obviously worked out. His stomach, area- wise, was big too, but flat. No fat there. His waist was smaller than the breadth of his shoulders, but it wasn't willowy. I couldn't see his ass, but I knew it looked like a giant's ass. The black trousers pulled tight across his legs revealed thighs and calves big with muscle. I stifled a moan all too ready to slip out. Even though it didn't, I blushed. Finally, I saw the hint of a smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. "Something about my hand that you really like?" "What?" I asked, dazed. "You stopped shaking it but you are still holding my hand." I looked down dumbly at our hands as though I were only now discovering that they were attached. "Oh . . . oh forgive me. I'm a little slow today," I said, jerking my hand back as though it had touched hot metal. "I - I - I 'm trying to connect you with one of my students," I stammered, trying to cover my discomposure but highlighting it by blushing. He grinned. "You won't be successful. I connect with someone you know, but not a student." My brow wrinkled. "Oh? Who's that? "Tim Minor and I are old friends." My back stiffened, and I saw him smile again upon observing it. I made no reply. "I took Tim's place in the Science Department here. Rather, he talked me into applying for his job here." "Welcome, Ron. I hope you like it here. Where were you before?" "At the high school where Tim moved. In fact, we swapped jobs." I noticed that students for my next class were entering the room. "You came here from the capital?" I asked, incredulously. "Traded jobs? Why wouldn't you want to stay there if Tim moved there and you are friends? Oh, wait a minute. That's none of my business. I apologize. It's just such an unusual turn of events." "Yeah, it is. How about letting me take you out to dinner Friday night so that we can discuss it? Maybe you can give me pointers about settling into a new city. You know: best cleaners, grocery store, restaurants, politics here at the school, how to keep from strangling Mary Ellen Branson," he grinned mischievously. 'Ah,' I thought - 'the head of the Science Department affects him the same way she affects me. The guy can't be all bad.' "All bad?" that interior voice questioned snottily. "Your erection, breathlessness, and incoherency hardly testify to your finding him 'all bad.'" Ron's eyes lightened with an idea. "Why don't you give me your address, phone number, and directions to your house? I'll pick you up at 6:00 Friday evening." "Okay." I wrote the information on a notepad, tore off the sheet of paper, and placed it in his hand, my hands and fingers shaking. His meaty hand closed gently around mine. He looked deeply into my eyes. I was mesmerized, lost in his blue eyes. Slowly, he released my hand, which plopped on the desk, robbed of strength. I felt like an idiot. He smiled at the effect he had on me. "Friday night," he said, winking at me. He turned and walked back to the door. Oh man, that ass was big with hard muscles. I would have given a month's pay on the spot to squeeze it. I stifled a groan. When the next class started, I had to continue to sit on my stool behind my desk. I had a visible erection that didn't want to go away because I could still see Ron in my mind's eye. My breath was still short! What the hell was going on? (To be continued.) Many thanks to Lawyer Gene, a true Southern Gentleman down Louisiana way, for answering legal questions.