Date: Thu, 15 Apr 2004 10:06:54 EDT From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: The Castaway Hotel - book 7, chapter 12 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 Emoe57 for his editorial assistance with this chapter, and Art, the real Vinnie and John for their additional input on each chapter. 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 7-by BW (Young-Friends). Copyright 2004 by billwstories Chapter 12 - Moving on. January 2004 Now that our legal woes were behind us and the college boys had returned to their campuses, those who were still at home put all their energy into planning our Halloween haunted house. They wanted to outdo themselves this year, and I decided to let them, thinking it would be good for them to direct their energies elsewhere and forget about what we had just gone through. Over the next few days, they told me their suggestions and I would okay them, help modify them, or reject them outright, as some of their proposals were outrageous. After a few heated discussions, we finally agreed on a plan and the boys set about putting it into action. While the boys were putting together their plans for Halloween, I had something else to concern myself with, Cole's next birthday. He would be turning eighteen this year, and I wanted to make a big deal of this for him, as I thought he might need a boost. Trey and Vinnie were talking excitedly about their college plans, and I knew Cole wouldn't be going on, due to his learning difficulties, so I needed to give him something else to focus on and make him feel good. He hadn't said anything, but I could sense his reactions, whenever he heard the other two go on about their plans, and I knew he felt as if he were a disappointment and his self-esteem slipped another notch every time this happened. I had tried to engage him a couple of times, about how work was going on the car he was fixing up, and that would temporarily bring him out of his funk and get him animatedly talking about what he was up to. I could see how passionate he was about this and I felt that might be the key to his future. Just like we had for Andrew, I planned a small, family gathering for his birthday, but I also hoped to make this special for him. In between, I made some inquires and did some secretive planning of my own, and I was actually a little excited when the big day approached. After everyone had gathered at the house, wished Cole a happy birthday, and gave him his gifts, which he would open later, we sat down to eat. I had allowed Cole to choose the menu, which he had very diligently done, and when the meal was over, we sat around socializing for a while, before we would have cake and ice cream and let Cole open his gifts. I saved my present to him for last, and after he finished unwrapping everything else and thanking whomever gave it to him, I handed him mine. It was a large manila envelope, and this in itself made Cole curious. Carefully, he opened it and pulled out the paperwork inside. I had prepared everything on my computer. Slowly, he read it over, before he shot across the room and threw his arms about my neck. "Dad, this is fantastic!" he exclaimed. Of course, this got everyone curious as to what I had given him, as I had divulged that information to no one beforehand, not even Jake. "Well, what is it?" Mrs. Spence finally inquired. "Dad got me a job at the car dealership on the weekends, but it's also a guarantee from the owner that I will be hired full-time after I graduate, if I do a good job. It also says they'll send me to various automotive classes afterward, for more advanced training. It's just what I was hoping for. I love working on cars and I can't imagine anything I'd like to do more. Thanks, Dad, I love you." He was kind of doing a little dance, he was so excited, but suddenly he stopped and turned toward me again, and spoke. "I was really feeling bad, cuz I'm not smart enough to go to college, but this is far better. I don't mind going to school to learn about fixing cars. You do that by working on them and being shown, and I can learn that way. I just don't do well learning from people talking or by reading books." It was sort of his way of justifying things for everyone else, because he knew I understood that, as we'd discussed it many times, but I was glad he felt so strongly about doing this. I suspected he would, but it was nice to see my viewpoint vindicated. At that point, everyone began to ask questions of both of us, wanting to know more about what Cole had been doing and what this meant. Cole filled those in who had been unaware of his activities, about taking automotive classes at school and about his efforts to fixing up that old car. They all listened intently to his story, asking questions and making comments along the way, and they all seemed extremely interested in what this meant to him. I think this not only gave Cole something to look forward to, but it also eased his conscience about not attending college, and I was happy this had all worked out so well - even better than I had planned. The rest of the day went very smoothly, and everyone seemed to have a good time, and some of the others took the opportunity to stop and congratulate me on my creative solution to Cole's problem. Even Jake told me he hadn't seen that coming, but thought it was an excellent idea, before he teasingly asked me how many other secrets I had kept hidden from him. Playing along, I told him at least a trunk full, which surprised him even more. I don't believe he had expected for me to respond in that fashion, but had assumed I would try to reassure him instead. Leaving him to wonder, I jokingly punched him in the arm and then walked away, choosing not to pursue this any further. Once the guests had left and things quieted down, I went over to Jake and explained that I would never keep anything of importance from him, just to ease his doubts. After that, I answered a few more of his questions, to relieve his suspicions completely, and then we headed off for some quiet time alone, something I think both of us desperately needed. By the next day, all of his doubts were behind us. The boys went into high gear now, as there was only a little over a week to go before it would be Halloween, and they needed to finish their preparations. They had worked hard on what they had planned for this year, as what they intended to do was even more elaborate than their previous attempts, and when the big day arrived, we discovered everything had come together nicely. All of the boys were so excited when they awoke on Halloween morning that it made me wonder if I would be able to get them to school for the day. I knew they probably wouldn't be able to concentrate on their class work while they were there, but I wasn't about to let them take the day off. I drove them all to school, dropped them off, and by the time they arrived back home, once school was out, they were all so hyper that they flew about the house, getting ready for the big night. As always, we had a guide out front who kept all the trick-or-treaters gathered in once place, until he directed them to go around to the back of the house. They would enter through our rear door, moving into the rec room first, before they were directed to the other areas. On their way to our backdoor, they passed by the familiar tombstones, which included the names of some of the most famous murderers in history, such as Jack the Ripper, Jeffrey Dahmer, John Wayne Gacey, Son of Sam, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Vlad the Impaler, and Osama Bin Laden, but this year we added one more, Saddam Hussein. His tombstone was placed closest to the door, so people would notice it, but there was a more sinister reason for doing this too. As the first set of costumed youngsters made their way to our door, we soon heard a series of screams, which meant the first surprise of the night had been sprung. What the boys had done was this - they had dug a shallow hole in front of Saddam's tombstone, big enough for one of the boys to lie down in, and Dion eagerly volunteered for this job. Over top of the hole, I had made a hatch, with a small trap door in it, and we covered it with an artificial grass rug, once he was in position. As the first group made their way to our door, he reached through the small opening and grasped one of the startled Halloweener's leg, causing the first scream, and that scream scared some of the others into doing the same. Not giving them a chance to investigate what happened further, I opened the door and invited them inside. The children looked relieved to come indoors, but that was short-lived. As they entered, the room was filled with various spooky sounds, provided by a commercially prepared CD being played in a portable player. Our guests immediately focused on the casket, where in the past we had another boy hidden, dressed as Dracula. This diversion helped to set up the next surprise, which came from the other side of the room, as Graham, Sammy and Andrew, all dressed as some creepy alien life form, slid noiselessly across the carpet and grabbed one of the unsuspecting visitors. This set off another series of screams, and I could only imagine what the group waiting out front was thinking at this point. >From there, the children were led down to the basement, through a series of strings that dangled down in their path, each with a different grotesque plastic creature attached to it. Once they got to the bottom, the boys had set up large aquariums, which they had filled with various creepy delights, as one tank held spiders, the next a variety of bugs, another with worms, snails, and slugs, and a final tank with various reptiles inside. The boys had also hooked up spotlights behind each tank, which they would turn on, one at a time, as the children approach, highlighting what was contained within. Seeing this series of revolting animals also elicited a few more cries and screams, which was quickly followed by some gleeful cackling from my sons. After getting away from that area, the children were led past a table containing an array of body parts, most of which seemed to be able move on their own. First there was an arm, which would reach out and attempt to grab passers by. Then there was a pair of eyes, which appeared to be suspended in a frame dangling in midair, and the eyes would appear and disappear with varying frequency. This was actually Trey, with a black, cloth mask over his face, so only his eyes would show. We had also put black makeup over his eyelids, so when his eyes were closed, the entire box looked empty. We also had a black light illuminating that area, so when he opened his eyes it would not only give an eerie effect, but also make the eyes appear as if they were attached to nothing. Finally, there was a severed head, which sat on a platter and would open its eyes and speak as the children walked by. In reality, the head belonged to Vinnie, who was made up to look like a very haggard Saddam Hussein, complete with the infamous beret. This area turned out to be very popular, but we had to keep the children moving, so those waiting outside could have their turn too. Once the children collected their treats, they'd be led back upstairs, and then exit out our front door. By this time the next group would be entering the rear of the house, and the cycle continued. By the time the evening had ended, we were all extremely exhausted, but we had also enjoyed ourselves immensely. The trick-or-treaters given us many favorable comments about their time there and they genuinely appeared thrilled with our efforts. That, alone, more than made up for all the work we had done and the long day we had just put in. In fact, the boys were already talking about what they wanted to do for Halloween next year, and it was nice to see them so excited about something like this again. October now gave way to November, and Jake and I began to plan our Thanksgiving holiday. This would be the first Thanksgiving without my older children, as I was sure three of them wouldn't be coming and the fourth had already told me he had too much going on to be able to get away. We called each member of the extended family, to make sure they knew they were invited again, and then we began to plan the menu. I tried to keep my spirits up, even though inwardly I was depressed because I wouldn't be seeing my older children and grandchildren again, and Jake immediately picked up on this fact. "We could just make this a quiet gathering this year," he suggested, while giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Maybe that would make it a little easier on you." "NO!" I was emphatic. "I will not change the way we do things, as that would be unfair to the rest of the family, and I'll be damned if I'll let those brats ruin our holiday like that. They may wish to stay away, but I'm not going to pine about it and bring everyone down with me. We will do things as we always do and I don't want to discuss this again." I was only trying to emphasize my intent, but when I looked into Jake's eyes, I realized I had hurt his feelings with my outburst. Here he was trying to help me, concerned about how I was feeling, and I had more or less exploded in his face. Without meaning to, I had once again managed to hurt someone who only had my best interests at heart. After apologizing profusely for my actions, we sat and talked about this situation in depth. "Jake, I didn't mean to go off on you like that, and I DO appreciate your concern, but I can't let my older children's decision effect the way we do things. We must keep everything as normal as possible, if only for the boys' sake, so things will go on as usual. I will deal with things on my own, and in my own way, so I won't drag the rest of you down with me." "I thought we were partners?" Jake stated succinctly, but in a questioning manner. "We are," I agreed, trying to reassure him, but I wondered where he was going with this now. "Well, if we're partners, shouldn't we discuss this, or anything else which affects us jointly or affects the family? If I'm a part of this, I want to be included in the decisions too." I immediately agreed with his logic and let him know that. "Okay, you're right, and I apologize for the way I acted. I will talk things over with you from now on, but I hope you can see why I feel as I do about this," I told him. "Oh, yes, I do, and I'm willing to go along with you on it. I was just trying to offer another option, but if you think this is the best way to go, then I'll support you one hundred percent." I again thanked Jake for his understanding and we began talking about this situation in greater detail. Soon, things were pretty much back to normal between us. We continued to plan for Thanksgiving, but we also talked about ways to make sure I didn't get overly depressed or dwell upon these problems throughout the holiday season. Jake suggested one way to do that would be to concentrate on Dion's birthday, which happened to fall on Thanksgiving Day this year. Dion was turning sixteen this year, and by focusing on his birthday and Thanksgiving dinner, we figured it would give me plenty to occupy my time. I knew Jake was right about the distraction, and that by concentrating on both events, it would give me less time to feel sorry for myself or to think about what I might be missing. Planning for these events did keep me going and took up most of the time I wasn't spending at work, but it also caused me to actually become a little excited as the twenty-seventh approached. We had decided to have Thanksgiving dinner around 2:00, and then we'd celebrate Dion's birthday later that evening, probably around 6:00 or so. I had already discussed this with Dion, giving him the choice of having his party then or waiting for the weekend to do it, but he seemed to think it would be less of an inconvenience to do it all at the same time. However, he did suggest that maybe we could do something special on Saturday too, just not a party. I agreed with his recommendation, so everything was set. Wednesday night, before Thanksgiving, Jake and I spent most of the night preparing various dishes for the next day. The boys helped with the other preparations, by getting the dining room ready and setting up the extra tables we would need because of the guests. Mark and Frankie were already doing their share as well, as they had left Tuesday night to go pick up the college boys, which freed Jake and me up for our cooking responsibilities. As the two of us were preparing the pies and other deserts, the vehicles began to roll in with our college crew, and soon the house was full of the chaotic sounds and the innocent horseplay I had grown to love. On their own, the boys had managed to find the best distraction of all. The funny thing was, some of the roles were now reversed, and my normal prankster, Ricky, had become the brunt of the practical jokes this time around, instead of the instigator. Actually, we were all puzzled as to who pulled this off, as no one took credit for what happened, but it was a riot as it went down. The college boys had all gone to their rooms to drop off their belongings, but most came back downstairs almost immediately. However, no one noticed our missing boy, until we heard a loud crash, followed by frantic banging, coming from upstairs. I was going past the staircase just as it happened, so I ran up the steps to see what was going on. When I reached the top of the stairs, I discovered it was Ricky who had been making all the noise, as he was now banging on the inside of his bedroom door. "Ricky, what in the hell are you doing in there?" I screamed at him, thinking he was losing it. "Some bastard fixed my bed so it would collapse when I sat on it, and then they put oil or something all over my doorknob, so I can't get out. They also did something else, cuz I got a shock when I touched the doorknob too. I'm going to find out who did this and beat the crap out of them. Will you open the door from out there?" he pleaded. Suddenly, the lights began to go on in my mind. Someone was getting revenge. I disconnected a battery they had hooked to the outside of the doorknob and opened the door for him, which allowed him to come shooting out into the hall. "I'm gonna get even," he warned me, bolting from his room, but I grabbed him so I could restrain him until he cooled down. As I held him, he was looking urgently about, to see if he could find the prankster laughing at him from the background, but no one was there. Next, he turned toward me, his nostrils flaring and that crazed look in his eyes. "You know who did this, don't you?" "No, Ricky, I don't," I admitted honestly, though he failed to believe me. He glared at me, as if he thought I was in on this too. "Honestly, I don't," I tried to convince him, but he was unmoved. "You know just about everything that goes on in this house," he argued, "so why don't you know who did this?" "Ricky, I only know what I see, hear, or am told, but this time, none of that has happened." I tried to look as serious as I could, so he'd not doubt me further. He studied me carefully, to see if he could detect a cover up or a hint of insincerity. Detecting nothing, he began to back down from his stance. "Well, I expect you to tell me, if you do find out who did this. They're going to be sorry," he threatened. "Oh, when you do it that's okay," I challenged him, "but not when it's done to you?" He shot me a look that told me he wasn't amused by my observation. "Hey, they always try to get even with me too," he reasoned. "Possibly," I admitted, "but who started all this in the first place?" Again, he was not amused. "Damn! Am I always going to be in the wrong just because I did those types of things first?" "No, not in the wrong, but don't expect me to protect you from others doing the same thing. Remember, I never protected them from you." I grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes. "You're no help," he challenged. Leaving me behind, he went downstairs to see if he could solve the mystery of who did this by himself, but by bedtime he was no closer to finding the culprit. Everyone teased him about it, but no one took credit, and this just seemed to irritate him even more. Frustrated, he eventually gave up and went to bed, but not before putting his bed back together and taking an old rag to clean the oil off his doorknob. Jake and I also talked about it, trying to determine who had the guts to challenge our numero uno jokester, but we couldn't come up with anyone in particular. Yes, they all were likely candidates, but none more than the others. We were just as baffled as Ricky was. The next morning, Jake got up early to begin preparing the turkey, but he told me to sleep in and he would take care of everything. Rather than argue with him, I did as he suggested, figuring I could use the extra time in the sack. However, good intentions oft go astray, and it wasn't long before something roused me from my bed. Without warning, loud music began to blare from several places upstairs, and I jumped out of bed, raced into the hallway, just barely nosed out at the stairs by Jake. We both bolted up the steps, as some of the music began to die down, but everyone was already up by then - and it was only 6:30. The boys were all coming out in the hall looking for Ricky, as I discovered they thought he had set this up, seeking revenge. It seems someone had set all of their alarms for 6:30, but set it so the radio alarm would play, and that same person had also adjusted the volumes to maximum. Therefore, when the alarms went off, it had the greatest shock value to the previously comatose targets. Soon the blame shifted away from Ricky, however, when the boys discovered the same thing had happened to him, but only he had an extra, added surprise. As Ricky got out of bed, he stepped on a collection of eggshells, which had been carefully arranged so he wouldn't be able to avoid them. They didn't hurt or do any damage to him, but they did make him sit back on his bed quickly, to get off of them. When the boys went to accuse him, he was trying to wipe the pieces of eggshell from the soles of his feet. Jake and I soon discovered the shells came from all the eggs we had used in making the desserts and other dishes we had prepared for Thanksgiving dinner, so the culprit had to come down after we all went to bed, sneaked into Ricky's room after he had fallen asleep, and then gone back to his own room without being discovered. I had no idea who would go to all the trouble or who would be focusing on Ricky after he'd been away so much, but it wasn't like the others didn't have any reason to want to do these types of things to him. However, it left us all baffled, except for the guilty party, who obviously wasn't going to own up to what he had done. At this point, some of the boys began to laugh, which quickly got everyone else laughing, and soon we were all giggling like a bunch of giddy schoolgirls. It didn't take long for them to forget about being upset for being rudely awakened and they began to enjoy the joke and the amount of planning it must have taken to pull it off. Even though they didn't know who had done it, they silently tipped their hats to this mystery person. After everyone went back to bed, Jake and I went downstairs, and I decided to stay up and do what I could to help. We talked about what had happened as we worked, trying to solve the mystery of who was doing all these things, but more than half of the boys were likely suspects. Finally, we gave up thinking about who the mastermind was and, instead, began to focus on the day ahead. The time seemed to fly as the appointed time drew near, and Jake and I took turns cleaning up and getting dressed, in preparation for our guests' arrival. It was about 1:30 when the phone rang, and soon I was being paged to take it. "Hello, this is Josh Currie." "Josh, it's Albert. I'm afraid we're going to be late, if we make it at all today," he told me. "Albert, is something wrong?" I was deeply concerned, because I knew Arlene, Little Ricky, and he would not normally miss this for the world. They seldom got away from the farm, had no other relatives in the area, and liked to have company, which they hardly ever had, other than us. "There was, but it's okay now," he advised me. "It's just slowed us up and I'm not sure what we'll do next." He sounded as if he were contradicting himself, telling me there was no longer a problem, but then explaining he didn't know what they were going to do next, so I decided to question him about this. "Albert, what happened? Is it Arlene?" There was an uneasy silence, before he replied. "I'm afraid so. She wandered out of the house earlier and it took us a while to locate her. She was nearly a mile away before we found her." "Is she okay now?" I was concerned and worried that maybe something more had happened. "Yes, she seems to be fine...physically," he added, letting me know her mental and emotional state was obviously deteriorating further. "She hasn't done anything like this before, but I guess that means we're going to have to start keeping a closer eye on her." "Did you find out why she left?" "Not exactly. She was sputtering all kinds of gibberish about having to get to town and that she was mad about something we'd done to her, but nothing like that ever happened, except maybe in her mind. I'm afraid she's remembering multiple past events and confusing them together, and then reacting to those warped recollections." "Albert, I'm truly sorry to hear this, but we'll hold dinner for you. We want all of you to be here with us on this special day, and I'm sure Little Ricky...I mean Richard, would benefit by being with the boys again too." "Josh, thanks, but I'm not sure that would be a good idea today." "Albert, being with us might jog her memory to more favorable times," I argued, "and that may be all it takes to bring her back to you and Richard." There was a fairly lengthy silence at the other end of the line, and I assumed he was considering my proposal. "I'm not sure there's anything that can bring her back to us, Josh, but I guess it's worth a try. I don't see where it can do her any harm, but it might be very hard on the rest of you - seeing her this way." It almost sounded as if he were beginning to weep. "Albert, we aren't friends only in the good times, and you and Arlene have been with us throughout our problems and the rough times in our lives too. I'm not saying it won't be difficult for any of us, but as family, we're willing to take the bad with the good. Get here as soon as you can and we'll hold dinner until you arrive. I'll explain it to the others and I'm sure they'll have no problem with that." "Thank you, Josh. This is very kind of you and we all appreciate your friendship. We'll get there as soon as we can, but there's no need to hold dinner for us. We'll just eat when we get there." "Nonsense! This is Thanksgiving and we'll eat as a family. I don't think there are any of us who will have a problem waiting a little longer, and if there are, we'll give them a snack to tide them over. We'll see you shortly." We ended the phone call and I told Jake and the boys about what had happened. We were all concerned about what they were going through, and I could see the boys trying to come up with some way to distract Richard when he got here. I know they thought that might make his momentarily forget about his worries, but I wasn't sure there was much they could do that would permanently help him, at this point. They might be able to make him forget for a short time, but he has to live with the realization of what is happening to his mother on a daily basis, so I highly doubted my boys would make much of a difference. However, I applauded their efforts and I hoped they would be effective, to any degree, in alleviating Richard's fears and concerns. We all went about our final preparations, as we waited for our guests to arrive, and although I was looking forward to having everyone together, this wasn't going to be entirely easy or pleasant. To me that didn't matter, however, as I believe family bonds are the strongest bonds of all, and if the phrase 'until death do us part' ever applied to anything, it is to the ties between family members. As I've always told the boys, friends may come and go, but a family is forever. Thinking about this brought me to another issue, and now I wondered if my older children remembered me telling them that too. * * * * * * * * If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at 'BW's Rainbow Youth Connection,' at http://bwsryc.gayauthors.org/ You can also locate my stories by clicking on the Nifty author link and scrolling down to "BW". This will give you the links for everything I have posted there. I also love to hear from my readers and get their reaction to my stories. If you don't mind, please share whatever information you feel comfortable with, because it helps knowing my readers better when I decide what to write or how to gear it. Please email me at bwstories8@aol.com and let me know what you thought, so I can do even better in the future. Thanks, Bill.