Date: Sun, 30 Mar 2003 16:14:50 EST From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: The Castaway Hotel-book 6, chapter 11 Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality. Don't read this story if: **You're not 18 or over, **If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live, **Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex. The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. Legal action will be taken against violators. I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this chapter, and to Art for proofreading it for me. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com. * * * * * * * * Although the boys in these stories have unprotected sex, I strongly urge all of you out there to be smart and protect yourselves from various sexually transmitted diseases by using condoms when having intercourse. * * * * * * * * The Castaway Hotel-Book 6-by BW (Young-Friends). Copyright 2000 by billwstories Chapter 11 - Cheers and fears. October 2002 It was only a couple of days before the private investigator called, to tell us he had located one of the two men we were looking for. It happened to be the pimp/drug dealer, and he was currently serving a 20-year to life conviction, for pushing drugs. I wasn't surprised by that, it was just that I had been afraid we might discover he was already dead by now, either killed by a rival drug dealer, an overdose, or by having contracted AIDS from one of his pros. Fortunately this was not the case, and now I had to go and try to convince this guy to do the right thing, like he might have even the slightest idea what the right thing was. I did make one immediate decision, however, and that was to keep this information from Cody, until we were sure if this guy was genetically related. After thanking the P.I. for his diligent work, I contacted Steve, to see if he could arrange for the two of us to go talk to this guy in person. I wanted Steve involved with this for two reasons. First, I knew that a lawyer would be able to get access to a prisoner more quickly than I could, and second, I wanted him there to advise me of any legal ramifications of anything I might do or offer this guy, to get him to cooperate. Of course, Steve was more than willing to help, and I felt better now, knowing he was going to be there with me. Shortly after I spoke with him, Steve called the prison and set up a time for us to visit, merely explaining to the desk sergeant that he had legal issues he needed to discuss with this prisoner. The warden, knowing he couldn't press for information from an attorney, unless it was willingly offered, accepted that explanation, and we were scheduled to meet this guy the following day. All that night I rehearsed what I was going to say in my mind, and I chose an approach of how I was going to act with this guy. I guessed it would be highly unlikely that he would agree to being tested, without some sort of incentive, to determine if he was Cody's biological father. As I became clear on how I was going to deal with this man, I also tried to picture what he might look like. At first I thought he might be one of those dandy-type pimps, who likes to dress in expensive and outlandish styles of clothing, like you might see on those police shows on television. Then I added in the fact that he also dealt drugs, so now I imagined him as some hardened gang member; tough, unyielding, and totally uncooperative. I knew he was probably going to be a tough nut to crack, and I was grateful that Steve was going to be there too, so I wouldn't have to face him alone. That morning I kept the Grand Am, to take on the trip, and I picked Steve up at his office. On the drive to the prison, I explained to Steve what I planned to do and say, getting his advice along the way. By the time we got to the prison parking lot, I was pretty sure of how I wanted to conduct this interview. Being my first time visiting a secure facility, I was a little amazed at what we had to go through. Steve told me later that this was much easier than the normal process to enter the prison, because we were considered legal representatives, thus exempt from certain procedures, like body cavity searches. Even so, we had to pass through two separate guards stations, where armed guards watched our every movement, and then we were patted down, and searched for weapons and other contraband. After the guards were satisfied we were clean, we were escorted through a series of barred doorways, which we had to be buzzed through, in order to gain access to the area beyond. Once we arrived at our final destination, we were then escorted into a locked room, where we would be able to sit and talk with this guy. We were there for a couple of minutes, before he was led into the room, and he was placed in handcuffs and shackles, with a chain connecting those two items. This was done for our protection, and was a common way to deal with those inmates classified as potentially dangerous. "Who the hell are you guys, and what the fuck do you want with me?" this guy spat out, shortly after the guard closed the door behind him. "My name is Steve Shay, and I'm an attorney. This is my friend and associate, Josh Currie, and he is the reason we are here. He has some questions he would like to ask you?" "Well, whatever you want, it's going to cost you? I don't give up nothin' for free." "If you are cooperative," I began, "I will make sure you are properly rewarded. If you are able to help me, I will make sure that money is added to your inmate account, but how much is added will depend on how well you cooperate." I had done some research and discovered that these inmate accounts are one of their most valuable assets in prison. Seeing they are not allowed to have money on them, any funds they have are kept in an account at the prison. They can use the money in this account to buy cigarettes, to purchase certain snacks and drinks, or to secure a limited number of items from a prison run store. "So, what is it you want?" "Do you remember Marianne Reynolds?" "Hey, man. I haven't seen that whore in years." A look of concern was spread across his face. "We know that, and she's no longer alive, but she is part of the reason we're here." "Man, if anything happened to that bitch, I had nothing to do with it." Now he began to look defiant. "No one said you did. She died of natural causes." "Then why did you mention her, and what does this have to do with me?" "Did you ever have sex with her?" He studied me for a minute, before he answered. "Oh, shit, man! Did that slut go and die of AIDS? And now you're here to tell me she might have passed that shit on to me, right?" You could just see the venom in his gaze. "Well, she did die of AIDS, but that's not why we're here. She had a son, who has been diagnosed with leukemia, and we would like you to take a DNA test, to see if you are this boy's biological father." "What the fuck difference would that make? There is no way you can stick me with his bills, make me pay support, or have him come live with me, so what the hell is up?" Now he was eyeing me suspiciously. "No, that is not why we're here either. All of his bills are covered, and we don't even want him to know you are his father, if that is the case, but we were hoping if you were the boy's father, you might be willing to donate some blood and bone marrow cells to him, to help save his life." "Fuck, if the kid's anything like me or his old lady, then he's probably better off dead." I lost it at that point. "You selfish son-of-a-bitch. He happens to be a great kid, and I'm planning to adopt him, once we can clear up the paternity issue. We were just hoping that you might do the fatherly thing, and want to save your son, if that turns out to be the case." He thought for a moment, before he responded. "Well, I guess if you are willing to put enough cash into my account, I might be willing to help the kid out." "I assumed you'd say something like that eventually, so here's the offer. Listen carefully, because I'm only making it once, and it's non-negotiable. If you don't agree with my terms, then we'll just go to the national donor registry, to find another match." I was trying to take away any thoughts he might have of trying blackmail me into giving him more money. "I'll give you $500, if you'll take the DNA test, $1,000, if you end up donating blood and bone-marrow cells to the boy, and I'll double that to $2,000, if you turn out to be his biological father. The extra thousand will be for your signing away any claim you might have on him. Is that a deal?" "Well, that doesn't sound like much." I cut him off. "I told you this was non-negotiable, and a one-time offer. It's a take it or leave it proposition, so is your answer 'yes', or 'no'?" He eyed me suspiciously, like he knew I had him by the balls on this one. I knew he wanted to try to get more, but he was afraid of losing what I'd already offered him. Finally, he relented. "Okay, it's just a little blood, and nothing I haven't done before." I knew he meant being stuck with a needle, like when he used to do drugs. "Fine. We'll arrange for a certified technician to come by, and work with the prison doctor to take the DNA sample. I'll give the technician a check to leave for your account, once he has the genetic sample, and then I'll contact you, to let you know if there will be any further transactions required." He merely nodded, and Steve quickly wrote up an agreement for him to sign, stating what we had already agreed to. He even had a guard step inside, to witness the signing, so it was all totally legal. Once we had everything we agreed to, we left the prison, happy to be free of that constrictive environment. Once we were in the car and on our way home, Steve turned to me. "You would have made a good lawyer, or a contract negotiator." He laughed after he said that. "I don't know anyone who could have handled that situation any better. You offered him the carrot, and before he had time to figure out how to get two, you threatened him with none. Nicely played." "Well, I have represented the school district in contract negotiations before, but could you believe the attitude of that arrogant bastard. Here we've got a kid's life on the line, and all he can think about is what he's going to get out of the deal." "Well, that's primarily the way he's conducted his whole life. That's probably a contributing factor as to why he is where he is today." "Yeah, you're probably right there, but you don't know how close I came to wanting to go over and beat the crap out of him, or rip his balls off, for making those disgusting comments." "Well, I'm glad you kept your cool, or next time I might have been coming here to visit you." Now he looked at me and burst out laughing. "Very funny, but you'd probably find that comical too." "Not really, because then I'd have to find a way to take care of all my nephews. I'm glad you've put them first in your priorities, before you attack that piece of shit." "Well, actually it didn't happen quite like that. The biggest reason I hesitated, was because the guy was in chains. I've always been one for a fair fight, and that wouldn't have been fair." "You're right, because he'd probably have bitten you, kneed you, or tried to gouge your eyes out, if a fight had started. If he had been infected with the AIDS virus by Cody's mother, then you would have been exposed to it too." "I guess I'd never considered that. It's a good thing I have such high standards then." We both chuckled at that. "Well, at least he agreed to this deal," Steve said, after a few moments of levity, "so now we're halfway home." "Yes, but I truly hope that slime ball isn't Cody's father. I don't know if I'd be able to contain my contempt, if I had to tell Cody that was the case." "We should know the results of the test quite soon, so you won't have very long to contemplate how you'll break the news to Cody, if that does turn out to be the case." I knew Steve was right, so I began to think about what I would tell Cody, if that turned out to be the truth. I think Steve knew what I was up to, so he didn't bother me the rest of the way, but I did notice him writing on a legal pad, as I drove back home. When I stopped to drop Steve off at his office, he told me he'd take care of getting the tech to the prison, so I could concentrate on Cody, and how I was going to handle the other guy, once we located him. I thanked him for being such a good friend, yet again, and then we parted ways. Now I drove back to my office. The rest of the day and evening was pretty quiet for me, as I expected it would be, but the next day brought a new surprise. At one point my secretary buzzed me, and told me that one of my boys was on the phone and wanted to talk to me. I panicked, and thought something was wrong, so I took it immediately, only to discover an excited Trey on the other end of the receiver. "Pop, you won't believe this," he began. "Do you remember that contest my teacher entered me in last year? The one where she submitted my script about the World War II soldiers." "Yes, Trey, I remember that quite well." "You're gonna flip when I tell you this. She got a letter today that said I won a state award for it. In fact, she said I got something called the Pinnacle Award for my category. She told me that meant my script was the very best, out of all of the ones they got. Then she told me it is going to be sent on to the regional competition." "That's great, Trey. I'm very proud of you. That is an extraordinary accomplishment and it will look great on your college resume, when you're ready to apply. I am so proud of you. That is really outstanding." I could almost see and hear him blushing through the receiver. "My teacher also said this would be announced over the school's P.A. system, tomorrow morning. I'm not so sure about her doing that. Do you think people will think I got chosen, just because I'm your son?" "First of all, they've all seen the film you did, and most of them realize this was quite an extraordinary effort on your part. Second, anyone with half a brain will realize that this was a statewide competition, one in which I would have absolutely no influence. Don't worry about what simpletons like that will think, because you'll be getting a lot of praise from people who know better, and it will be richly deserved praise." "Okay, Pop, if you say so. You know I trust your judgment. I just got a little worried." "That's okay, and I understand your concern. You may get a little flak from a few brain-dead individuals, but you'll get more congratulations and support from the overall school community. Just do me a favor and make sure you get a copy of that letter from the teacher, so I can read it for myself. I want to be able to read all the details about what's going on." "I will, Pop, and thanks." "Anytime, Trey. I am extremely proud of you, I love you, and I'll see you at home." "Okay, Pop, and I love you too." Now I had something else to distract me from the issue of who was Cody's father, and I was glad to have that distraction. Just as I would have advised the boys, in a similar situation, worrying about it will not change the outcome, so it's best to wait, until we know what we actually have to deal with. See, sometimes I even heed my own advice. When Trey came home that evening, he had the copy of the letter, so I read it over, to see if there was anything special I should be aware of. It was quite impressive in itself, written on deluxe stationary, with embossed letterhead, and I decided to read it to the boys after dinner, giving them a heads-up about what they'd hear tomorrow at school. "Boys, I want to read a letter to you, one about Trey. The contents of this letter will be announced at school tomorrow, at least at the high school, and I thought it best you know about it in advance. Trey is worried there might be some negative reactions to it, so I want you to be prepared, in case Trey's concerns prove valid. I don't think they will, but forewarned is forearmed." Now I picked up the piece of paper and began to read from it. "The Scholastic Art & Writing Award committee, for the State of Pennsylvania, Alexander Currie has been awarded the Pinnacle Award, for his screen play for film, entitled "Brothers Beneath the Flesh". As recipient of the Pinnacle Award, it means that his submission was judged to be the very best in that category. His work will now be forwarded to the regional award committee, to be judged at that level. The announcement of regional winners will be made in late March, with the best from each region being forwarded to the national award committee. At this time, the award committee for the State of Pennsylvania would like to congratulate this young man for his outstanding effort, and a plaque signifying his accomplishment will be awarded at a banquet, to be held in Harrisburg on March 1st. Details and directions to the banquet facility will be sent under separate cover. The committee would like to extend our sincerest congratulations to all the winners, and we want you to know the entire state and the Pennsylvania Department of Education are extremely proud of your accomplishments. A press release announcing your personal success has been prepared by our staff and forwarded to your hometown newspaper. A general article, listing all the state winners, has also been delivered to each news organization within this great state. Sincerely, The Pennsylvania award committee chairperson" I think the boys were quite impressed after hearing this, and they immediately began to congratulate Trey for having won this award. Of course, my boys couldn't do it without adding their own brand of humor with their praise, so these are the types of things Trey heard. "Hey, Alexander, nice going," Dion began, tongue in cheek, because he knew Trey didn't care to be referred to by his proper first name. Trey just glared at Dion for doing that. "Does that mean I'm going to get paid for being in his film now?" Sammy wanted to know, smiling as he asked this. "This has nothing to do with the film," Trey advised him. It's only for the script. Sammy pretended to pout. "Hey, does this mean you're going to be famous?" Ricky asked, his eyes bulging from their sockets. "Am I going to be related to the next Steven Spielberg or Stephen King? "Could be," I told him, "especially if he keeps going like he is. Who knows what might happen, if he wins at the next levels. He might come under the attention of some top film school, or get offered an assistantship to some famous director or screen writer." "Wow," Andrew commented. "Can I be in one of your movies? I'm cute enough, aren't I?" We all knew Andrew was being deadly serious about this, but we all had to smirk at his innocent enthusiasm and curiosity. "Of course you're cute, Andrew," Trey told him, "and I'd love to have you in one of my movies, so don't let me forget that." "I won't," Andrew told him, pleased with Trey's response. "Damn, I'm so excited." All of our mouths fell open when Andrew said that, as I don't believe any of us had ever heard him use a word such as that before. Andrew noticed our reaction, and realized what he had said, so now he tried to make up for that mistake. "Sorry, daddy. I just got excited." I merely smiled at him, and winked, letting him know that all was forgiven. He smiled back at me, then looked back at Trey, grinned, and repeated, "But, damn, this IS exciting." Now all of the boys burst into hysterics. The phone rang at that point, interrupting the moment, and one of the boys answered it. Soon I was being called to take it. "Hello?" I responded, as I put the receiver to my ear. "Josh, this is John Stokes. I think I've located the other guy you were looking for. He's married, has a couple of kids, and he lives in western Pennsylvania. New Castle, to be precise." "That's great news. I'll drop your bonus money off at the office tomorrow. You did a great job." After that, he gave me the exact address and phone number for this guy, and from what I could gather this was a much better prospect as a possible parent/donor for Cody. However, this news also made me wonder if this guy might try to try to claim custody of Cody, if the boy did turn out to be his son. Now I began to have concerns of my own. After we hung up, I called Steve, to see if he could go with me next Saturday, when I planned to meet with this guy. "Hello, Steve, this is Josh." "Hi, Josh. What's up?" "I just got a call from the P.I., and he said he's located the other guy. Do you think you could go with me this Saturday, to talk to him? He lives almost on the Pennsylvania-Ohio border." "Give me a second to check my calendar." There was a brief pause, as I heard Steve jostling through some papers. "Yes, I don't see anything important on my calendar. I'll also check with Mary, but I'm sure she'll be okay with it too. By the way, I heard the technician got the blood sample, and it has been sent to the lab for DNA testing, along with Cody's sample." "That's great news. I just hope the results of the DNA testing are just as pleasant for me to hear. I really pray that the pimp isn't Cody's father." "I understand exactly, and I'll second your prayer request. That would turn ouut to be another rotten break for Cody, if that were the case, and I think the kid has enough to deal with right now." "That's precisely how I see it. Thanks, Steve, you truly are the best friend a guy could have." After I got off the phone with Steve, I told Jake about our plans, asking him to make sure he kept Cody busy that day, so he wouldn't have time to think or worry about any of this. He told me he'd take care of that, and then he wished me good luck, knowing how deeply I felt about protecting Cody from any more pain. I certainly was lucky to have found this great guy, more exactly that the boys were smart enough to hook us up, and he has been great with the boys too. It was just a stroke of immense luck that such a patient, understanding, and affectionate lover wandered into my life, and he also turned out to be a great second-dad to all the boys too, while giving me another fantastic son in return. The next day at school was kind of interesting. I wasn't at the high school when the announcement was made, but I sure got a bunch of responses concerning it, after the fact. From what I heard, the announcement went something like this. "I am pleased to make the following announcement," the principal began. "As most of you already know, last year one of our students, Trey Currie, wrote a screenplay, and made a film out of it. We were all fortunate enough to be able to view that film, but it did not stop there. Knowing how truly remarkable his talent was, one of his teachers submitted his screenplay to the Scholastic Art & Writing Award program. I am now pleased to announce that Trey's work has been singled out for special recognition. His script was named the Pennsylvania State Pinnacle Award winner for that category, meaning his work was judged to be the very best of all those entered. His script will now be placed in the regional competition, and I would encourage all of you to congratulate Trey on his achievement, and wish him well at the next level of competition." I heard Trey's homeroom went wild, whooping and hollering, congratulating Trey and slapping him on the back. Dion reported a similar, but more subdued response in his homeroom, as everyone told him how pleased they were for his brother. The other high school boys reported a similar response in their homerooms too. Trey also told me later, that although there were a couple of less than enthusiastic responses made to him concerning that announcement, the vast majority of things said to him were very positive and encouraging. At that time I also informed Trey that my office was deluged with congratulatory phone calls, from administrators, faculty, and staff, just letting me know how pleased they were over his accomplishment. They also mentioned how great this was for the entire school district, as this would be an indication to institutions of higher education that we were more than just a backwoods, country school district. They also expressed their hopes that he would fare as well at the next level of competition, many stating that they thought it was good enough for him to go all the way. I told him many of those I spoke to were former teachers of his, and they expressed their faith in his ability and told me that it had been there all along. They mentioned that when they had him in their classes that they saw flashes of that brilliance, and they voiced their confidence that he would continue to shine academically, and in this competition. I also received calls from the local newspaper, as a staff writer was requesting permission to interview Trey and me personally, for a special interest article they wanted to do for the Sunday supplement. I agreed to have them come to the office the next afternoon, after classes had ended, telling them I'd make sure Trey was there as well. They thanked me for our cooperation, and reiterated that they'd see us the following afternoon. I also received a phone call from the local cable company, which had helped Trey produce the film in the first place, and they offered to broadcast it on their public access channel later. They wanted to do a video interview featuring the two of us, which they said they would like to air right before they reran Trey's film, if that would be all right with us. I told them I'd check with Trey, but I was pretty sure he wouldn't mind either the interview or their rerunning his film. They also thanked me for our cooperation, and they passed along their congratulations as well. I set this interview for after the newspaper interview, but we would have to drive to their studios to tape it. Once again, Trey, the rest of the family, and I were all impressed and overwhelmed by the support of the entire community. We were even being stopped on the street, in stores, and at public events, as people told us how exciting it was that one of our own was doing so well. They told us that his success helped to put our small community on the map, so to speak, giving us all special recognition. They were also impressed by the fact that our small school district had helped to produce a talent of this significance, one that ranked among the best in the entire state. They said they loved it when friends or relatives, from other areas, got in touch with them, telling them how they had noticed that someone from our area had been mentioned in their own local newspaper. It was a thrilling time for us all. As we approached the end of the month, and all the attention began to wane from the award, my attention was also drawn away from Trey, and toward another family member. I came home one afternoon to discover a letter waiting for me, a letter from the Genelex Corporation, and I knew at once that was the laboratory the blood samples had been sent to, for DNA testing. Obviously this was the report that would tell me if Cody's mother's pimp was also his father. * * * * * * * * If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me by clicking on the Nifty author link and scrolling down to "BW". This will give you the links for everything I have posted there. E-mails may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.