Date: Thu, 11 May 2000 14:25:35 -0700 (PDT) From: Dewey Subject: For the love of Pete Ch.12 This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys partially based on real people and events. Names have been changed to protect the guilty as well as the innocent. All the usual rules apply. If you shouldn't be reading this now, then don't continue on. Copyright Notice - Copyright May 2000 by Dewey. This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. For the Love of Pete Chapter Twelve For the Love of Brian, Part Four Jason and I held our embrace for a long time. I cried softly into his shoulder, but these were tears of joy and relief. No longer did I have to be a rock untouched by life, ignoring the pain and emotional upheaval. I didn't have to pretend that nothing hurt me any more. I knew I had a family now, the armor around my heart finally allowing that fact to take root. My new family would be here to be strong for me when I couldn't be. We walked back to the house together, Jason's arm around my shoulder. As we reached the front door, Sharon opened it, concern on her face. With a warning glance from Jason, however, she backed off instead of smothering me as her mothering instinct prompted her to. Jason and I parted ways at the bottom of the stairs, I heading to my room to put on something appropriate for the funeral, and he following our mother into the kitchen to speak with her. Our mother. Man, it felt good to think of her like that. After returning to my room and looking through my clothing, I quickly realized that I had nothing that would be appropriate to wear to the funeral. All my clothes were jeans and T-shirts. A knock on the door startled me. Opening the door, I saw that Kevin had brought me what appeared to be a navy blue suit. "I hope it fits. If it doesn't we'll get it altered later, but it'll have to do for now." "Thanks, Kevin. How did you know that I needed..." "It wasn't hard to figure out considering all you have here is the clothing you took on the trip. Go ahead and get dressed. I have to get my own monkey suit on." Turning around, he moved out of my room, shutting the door behind him as he left. Taking the suit off the hanger, I noticed that everything had been included from the dress shirt and tie, to the socks and shoes. Quickly stripping off my jeans, I put on the suit, making sure that everything was in it's right place, until I got to the tie. I had never worn one before and didn't have the faintest idea of how to tie the stupid thing, so I went in search of Kevin. His bedroom door was open and he had just finished dressing. Seeing me approach tie in hand, he came out to help me. "Ever had to wear one of these?" "No, never did. No reason, I guess." "Well, I'd get used to it if I were you. You are going to be wearing these a lot in the future." He crossed the tie in front of me, gauging the length. Then he did some stuff I didn't catch, and it was done. "What do you mean I'll be wearing these a lot?" "Well, with your potential, I expect you'll be wearing these regularly after you get out of college." "Ugh. I feel like it's choking me." "Let me adjust it... nope, it's not the tie. It looks like we need to get you a larger neck size. Hold on a sec." Kevin went back into his room and started rummaging through his dresser. He came back with what looked to be a button with a loop of steel wire sticking off to one side. He put the button through the collar hole, and the loop over the collar button, then re-tightened and positioned the tie. I wasn't being strangled now, and felt a bit more comfortable. "There you go." He held me at arms length and looked me up and down. "How do the shoes fit?" "A bit big, but I can manage. Man, how do you wear these all the time?" "You get used to it. Sometimes I feel funny without a tie. Come on Sharon, it's time to go." Kevin knocked on Jason's door. "Let's go guy! We can't be late." Ray came out of his room wearing a gray suit identical to mine in cut. He looked me over and then exclaimed, "Damn! What is it with this family and good lookin people? Pete, man, you look awesome!" I blushed and turned away, only to have Jason nearly run me over as he came out of his room. "Whoa! Ray's right man. I didn't know you cleaned up this well. You make me have second thoughts about being straight." Jason was smirking at me, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Stop guys. I appreciate it, but just stop." I grinned, "You can tell me how good looking I am after I get through the will reading, okay?" That sobered them up quite quickly, and I kicked myself for stifling their humor. I probably would need it as the day went on. "Lets go gang. Everybody into the truck." "Isn't Joanne coming?" Sharon answered, "No, I don't think she needs to. I'd rather she didn't see this." I nodded in understanding. We all moved down the stairs and out the front door. I turned to Jason and asked, "What happened to Jared? I haven't seen him since I tore down the curtain." Sharon interjected before Jason could answer. "You did what?" "Jason flushed the toilet when I was in the shower." I could see Ray cringe. "It gave me a blast of hot water and I slipped trying to get out of it. I caught myself with the shower curtain, but it ripped off the rod about half way." Sharon sighed. "I suppose I should be used to replacing that thing by now." Jason and Ray both giggled. I returned to my original question. "What happened with Jared?" "He went home. He'll be around, and you'll see him at school in any event. You still planning on going out for diving?" "I don't know... I'm just waiting to see what happens in the next couple of days." Jason opened the rear passenger door and motioned me into the truck. "Okay. No pressure dude. Take all the time you need." Everyone else quickly took their seats, and in no time we were on the road to the cemetery. Virtually ignoring the passing scenery, I sat wondering if any family would show for the funeral, and if mom was there, what kind of trouble she would make for me. All sorts of notions came up, from her hitting and yelling at me, to her boyfriend trying to kill me. All of these images disturbed me. I thought I was over my mom hating me, but now I found that I was afraid of what was going to happen. If the truth be known, I was terrified. We arrived at the cemetery shortly before the service was set to begin. Everyone climbed out of the truck, and were walking toward the burial site before they noticed I hadn't come out. They looked at one another, then at me. Kevin walked back to the truck and leaned in to speak with me. "You okay, champ?" "I feel sick. I don't want to go out there." I did indeed feel nauseated. I was sweating up a storm, and starting to shake. "Besides, no one up there want's me here. Let's just go." He climbed in and sat next to me, placed his hands on my knees, and stared into my eyes. Again, I couldn't look away from his gaze, though I desperately wanted to. I didn't want him to see the fear in my eyes. "Pete, your grandparents are up there. They may have passed away, but they want you up there. We want you up there too. I know it's hard to be strong, but we are here to help you, to keep you safe, and support you. You said last night you wanted to come because you owe it to your grandparents. Do you still feel that way?" I nodded, my eyes still riveted to his. "Then it's time. I'll be right next to you the whole time. So will Jason and Sharon and Ray." He paused for a second, then he continued, his eyes softening. "Is it your mom?" I couldn't hold his gaze any longer. I dropped my eyes to my lap in shame. "Pete, it is perfectly understandable. You shouldn't feel weak because of that. I know how you feel about her, but she is still your mom, and she still holds some power over you. Something like that is not easily broken, and certainly not broken over night. It'll take time. But if you truly want to be free of her, you'll have to face her at some point or another. Hey," he pulled my face up and once again I met his eyes. "It's okay. All right? We are here to help you. You are safe. Trust us. Please?" A pleading look in his face caught my attention. He was sincere in what he was saying. Why that surprised me I don't know. I guess I still didn't believe I was worth their effort. I sighed deeply. "Let's go then. I have to do this some time, and I'd rather do it now than later, I suppose." Kevin gave my knee a squeeze and climbed out of the truck, waiting for me to follow. I hesitated one more moment, then followed him. He and I caught up with the rest of the family, and together we walked up the hill. The cemetery was beautiful, lush green grass, alder trees, other shrubs and flowers here and there. I liked it. And my grandparents particular plot was on the top of a small hill, overlooking all the beauty. It was odd to think of a graveyard as beautiful, but that's what it was. I still remember the smell of the flowers and the freshly mown grass. As we approached the site, I glanced at the people in attendance. Some I knew as acquaintances, others I recognized as friends. I didn't see anyone resembling my cousins from out of town, but I could have just missed them. Then I saw my mother and her boyfriend. They were seated in the front row, directly in front of the caskets. My mom was wearing a black mourning dress, and her boyfriend Carl was dressed in jeans, and a T-shirt advertising beer. It kinda pissed me off that he was here, and on top of that he didn't have the decency to at least dress appropriately, out of respect if nothing else. The other thing I saw was Van standing to one side with a police officer. It looked like he had gotten the restraining order and the temporary custody order. He confirmed it by giving me a thumbs up. I nodded grimly, and could hear Kevin, Ray and Jason each say "Yes!" in a loud whisper. I smiled to myself as I saw they were excited the orders had come through, but strangely, I felt nothing at the news. There were two seats remaining in the front row, but they were separated by my mom and her, uh, whatever. I opted to stand instead of taking one of the seats. I was directly in my moms line of sight. She sneered at me, then pointedly turned her head away, ignoring me. Her, uh, whatever turned in his seat to face me, stared into my eyes, and mouthed the words "Fuckin' little fagot". Several emotions passed through me when he said that. Most of all, I was enraged, but I also felt fear. I was afraid that he might do something to hurt me or my new family. But rather than show the fear that I felt so acutely, I smirked at him and said, loud enough for those near us to hear, "You are and ignorant bigoted loser," and then turned away from him, focusing on the minister who had just stepped up to begin the service. Kevin and Jason noticed the exchange, and eyed Curt warily as I ignored him. I felt Curt's eyes on me the entire time the minister was speaking. I tried to ignore it but the short hairs on my neck were standing up. The service was nice, the pastor reading several verses that seemed appropriate to their lives, but one didn't fit. It was Mark 10, verses 13 through 16. The minister said my grandparents had requested this passage specifically. It read: And they were bringing children to Him so that He may touch them; but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, He was indignant and said to them, "Let the little children come to Me; and do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." And He took the children in His arms, put His hand on them and blessed them. As the pastor completed the reading, he was looking at me, compassion lining his face, somehow conveying that this verse had been meant for me. I chanced a glance past Carl, who was still glaring, to my mother. She didn't look pleased at the passage the minister had read. I wondered how long ago they spoke to the minister or made their requests known. It kind of seemed to me that Mark 10 was a recent addition since it didn't go with the rest of the service. It felt odd that they would request that particular passage. Why would they want a passage talking about children coming to God? Did they mean someone specific to get meaning out of it? Still, I was comforted by the scripture. The service ended, and the line to pay final respects formed. Carl and mom were first in line, and then seeing no one else was moving toward the front, I moved toward the caskets with Kevin and Sharon following me. Jason and Ray shuffled over to where Van stood as we fell in behind Mom and Carl. I watched them intently as she stood silently in front of the caskets. She placed a hand on each and mumbled a prayer, while Carl, his back to her, glared down at me. I returned his glare impassively, betraying nothing to him. Kevin was bristling by this time, and Sharon was trembling with impotent fury. Mom finished her prayer, and then whirled on us so fast that she almost fell down. "What are you doing here? I don't want you here, and neither do they. It's your fault they are dead! If you weren't here, they would still be alive! They only took that trip because they couldn't while you were there. God I wish you hadn't been born, then I wouldn't have to go through all of this pain." Her countenance was pure, unadulterated rage. I stood stunned, but my face remained impassive. "Why don't you just take your gay ass out of here, you little prick. You've caused her enough trouble. So just get your fucking ass out of here before I decide to kill you. You don't deserve to live." Carl's threats were very real, and I could tell he was prepared to try to kill me, just as he said, so great was his hate. He took a step toward me and raised his hand to strike me, but his arm was blocked by another. "I wouldn't do that pal. I wouldn't want to mar this occasion by dragging you to jail." "Mrs. Jameson, Sir, let me introduce myself. My name is Mr. Vanderkamp..." I hadn't noticed him or the officer approaching, but I was glad they had. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take without doing something about it. "...And this is Officer McKinney. I have some documents that need your attention." Van held an envelope that he deftly slipped into mom's hand. "Inside that envelope, you will find two notices addressed to you. The first is a restraining order filed against you. It states that you must remain one hundred yards distant from my client, Peter Jameson. The second is a temporary order granting custody of Peter to Kevin and Sharon Patterson." As Van made these statements, I could see her eyes widen in disbelief, and then turn grim. "Good. I don't want to have anything to do with him. As far as I'm concerned, I have no son." Van gave her a sardonic smile. "I trust you'll feel the same way after the will reading. The temporary orders are in effect now, but an exception has been made so you and Pete both can attend the reading, should you wish to. My client will be there, as will this officer to ensure a... peaceful environment. From this point on," Van handed my mom one of his cards, "any communication you may need to make with Peter is to be directed to my office. My address and phone number are on the card. And sir, whoever you may be, I would suggest in the future you keep all threats to yourself." To my surprise, Van pulled out a small recorder, and stopped the tape. I thought my mom was going to have a fit right there. Her gaze kept shifting between me and Van, the hateful expression intensifying with each change. Carl, of course, was glaring daggers at everyone, mostly directed to me and the policeman. Mom finally slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand, saying, "Lets get out of here." She turned on her heel and left, striding toward her car. Carl, on the other hand, decided to get in the parting shot. "You fags will get yours. Just you wait." A knowing, satisfied smile on his face made his words even more chilling. "I suggest you leave before I arrest you for communicating a threat." "Oh yeah. I'm leaving. I don't want to catch anything from the little fag." He tore his arm out of the officers grip and walked after my mom, looking over his shoulder as he went. I watched him get into the car, and start it up. The car drove up the road and turned around, going down to the cemetery exit. As they drove passed us, I distinctly saw Carl raise his hand and act as he was shooting me, again with that hateful grin. I shuddered at that simple act, and I felt the blood run out of my face. Almost panicking, I looking around to see if anyone else had noticed, but everyone else seemed to have put him out of their mind as he got into the car. "Pete, are you okay?" Sharon. "I'm fine, give me a few minutes." My voice was shaky, as were my legs. I really hadn't prepared myself for the reaction I received from mom and Carl. I hated that they could weaken me like this, but I was powerless to prevent it. Of course, Sharon knew I wasn't fine, but she let me be, content to hover over me. It was time for me to say goodbye to my grandparents. Looking at the caskets, I found myself rooted in position, unable to move, just staring. Seeing me immobile, Kevin put his arm around my shoulder and gently propelled me forward until I was in front of the caskets. I didn't know what to do, or what to say. I bowed my head, not to pray, but in shame. They had done so much for me, and I couldn't even tell them goodbye. Raising my head, I looked up into the clear blue sky, searching for something, a sign maybe. None appeared. Once more, I bowed my head, and simply said, "I'm sorry." Turning away, I ripped myself free of Kevin's loving embrace and ran down the hill past the truck, all the while thinking that somehow this was my fault, just because I existed. If I hadn't been born, none of this would have happened, mom and dad would still be happy together, Gramma and Grampa would still be alive, Brian wouldn't be suffering. Somehow I stumbled to the trunk of an old tree and sat with my back to it, my head resting on my arms between my knees. I began to rock gently, sobs coming from deep inside, but I didn't even realize they were there. The only thing I could think of was Brian. We were separated. It wasn't our fault, but we were. I couldn't even contact him. I had tried, but he wasn't getting my messages. He didn't know I still loved him. Oh, Brian. Why can't you be here when I need you so much? What did I do to deserve this? What did you do? Why can't we just be together and be happy? Oh, my Brian.. My beautiful Brian. Please help me. Please? Oh God, it hurts, Brian. It hurts so much. Feeling hands on my shoulders, I recognized them as Kevin's. He was saying something, something urgent. "Pete! Pete, listen to me." He shook me gently, breaking through my anguish. Looking up to him, I noticed he was crying. Seeing he had my attention, he spoke quietly to me about the pain of loss, how losing one person can trigger emotions that we had thought buried, or resolved. We both realized he was talking to distract me, so I could regain my composure, but still, his words made sense. So with his help, I dried out my tears, reined in my emotions, and regained control. Ray told me later that I had been calling Brian's name as I sat by that tree. We piled back into the truck and headed over to the farm, where the will would be read. Nothing was said as we traveled those few miles, everyone lost in thought. I watched the passing scenery as we moved along, noticing the flowers along side the road, the neatly tended yards. Carl was very much on my mind. He reminded me so much of my dad, it frightened me. Both hated gays, and both were capable of killing me because I was gay. Dad had proven that to me when he tried to catch Brian that night, and Carl had just proven it also, by trying to hit me. I realized I was terrified of them. I hated that the fear could be so paralyzing. How was I to face Carl at the reading without telling the world I was afraid? Could I hide that kind of fear? I didn't know. As we approached the farm and the scenery became more familiar, a lump grew in the pit of my stomach. The last time I had been here, my grandparents were alive, and they were saying goodbye, telling me to have a good time. Unbidden, tears formed in my eyes, but they didn't fall. As we pulled up to the house, I noticed only a few other cars were evident, one of them being my mom's. Van parked next to us, and the patrolman next to him. I had an entire entourage, and I giggled a bit at the thought. Kevin opened the door and I climbed out, but he shut the door behind me. I gave him a puzzled expression and he said Sharon was going to drive the rest of them home, since they really didn't need to be here for the reading. Van would give us a ride back afterwards. I indicated my understanding. Walking into the house was more difficult than I thought it would be. Although I had only been here a short time, memories came flooding back. Over at the kitchen table, Gramma, Grampa, and I had discussed some of the most difficult things I had ever contemplated over a card game or dinner. Hate, prejudice, love, and more. They had always been patient, giving their view and listening to mine, talking about our differences in opinion and where our beliefs came from. They always had a special way to draw me out to them, to get me to tell them my thoughts and feelings, and they never condemned me or made me feel my thoughts didn't matter. I had taken them for granted. Once more, tears formed in my eyes, and rolled down my cheeks, but I made no effort to wipe them away. These were the tears I should have cried at the funeral. I smiled at the memory of the happy times I spent here with Gram and Gramp. We continued into the family room. I immediately felt eyes burning into me. It had to be Curt, so I ignored him completely as I took a seat on the couch, Van and Kevin sitting to either side of me. When I had settled myself, I chanced a glance at Curt and my mo... the woman who used to be my mom. The first thing I saw was Curt's eyes, and the hate they radiated. His gaze chilled me to the bone, but I wasn't going to give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing he scared me. Completely against what I was really feeling, I laughed to myself and gave him a knowing smirk which completely enraged him. He flushed as he became more and more angry. In spite of the fear, I was getting a perverse pleasure of goading him. With the police here I knew I was reasonably safe. Keeping eye contact with Curt, I leaned to Kevin and said in a whisper only he could hear, "Curt is trying to scare me. It's working." "Don't worry. You are safe here. He can't hurt you. We'll protect you, son." His response caused me to smile broadly. Once again he called me his son. A thrill ran through me every time he did. Of course Curt took the smile as a further sign of contempt, which made him go from red to purple. Officer McKinney casually strode to stand behind the couch we were sitting on. His presence was not lost on Curt. I turned to Kevin again. "Is there any way we could get him out of here? He really doesn't need to be here, does he?" "Hmm." Kevin's face was split by a devious smile. In a loud voice, Kevin said, "Mr. Vanderkamp, only people directly concerned with the will should attend the reading. Am I correct?" Van nodded, scrutinizing Kevin as he spoke, wondering where he was headed. "Then it would seem to me that he," and Kevin pointed directly at Curt, distaste evident on his face, "has no business here, wouldn't you say?" "I do believe you are right, Sir. And given the threats he has already given to young Pete here, perhaps we should ask the good officer to show him the door." I couldn't help but grin at their antics. Van was having as much fun tweaking Curt as we were. "Officer McKinney, as that man," he pointed to Curt in a dismissive manner, "has no immediate business here, and he has communicated a threat, would you be so kind as to remove him from the premises?" Curt looked like he was going to have a conniption. I had to stifle a laugh. And of course, McKinney had to get in the act too. "Certainly sir. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will remove the, ahem, gentleman now, with your permission." He casually walked over to Curt, held his arm out as if gesturing him to follow, and said, "After you sir. Please mind your hands and feet as you leave." Enraged, Curt glared at the policeman. He was so incensed that when he stood, he literally shook like a leaf. Officer McKinney escorted him out of the room then informed him as he left that he must remove himself completely from the property. Since he had no car of his own, he was going to have to sit down on the road about three-hundred yards away and wait for the reading to end. I couldn't help but laugh out loud in relief as the door shut behind him. I beamed at Kevin and Van, who ruffled my hair and returned my infectious grin. Mom had watched this entire exchange silently, giving no reaction to what had just occurred. She looked at me, face completely blank, but I knew the signs of her anger all to well. Clinched jaw, back straight, stiff neck, clinched fists. She was furious, but I kept grinning. A man dressed in a suit took a chair and sat in the corner of the room near the television. He had some papers on his briefcase, which he held on his lap. Looking around the room, I was startled to see that there was only my mom and two other people besides us. It had seemed like the room was full just a second ago. A man and a women, who could only be my aunt and uncle, sat behind my mom, pointedly ignoring her as she pointedly ignored them back "Thank you for coming, everyone. My name is Mr. Taylor. I am the executor of the will. This shouldn't take too long. First I will read a letter that was written about a month before the accident, and is to be read in the event they both passed on at the same time. It reads as follows: To Our Family, Over the last fifty years, we have experienced so much that we really don't know where to begin. We have had our children, watched them grow into adults, sometimes cursed them, and always loved them. You have given us immeasurable joy. Donna, we are so proud that you have made your own way in the world, and carved out your own happiness. We wish you and your soul mate all the best. You will both have our love, always. Greg, you have become a man we are proud to call our son. We are thankful that you too have found yourself and live a happy, fulfilling life. You share our blessing and love with your family. Brenda, your life hasn't been easy. Things have happened to you that no one should have to experience. We hope you can find peace. We love you, and always will. Pete, our grandson, we have watched you grow over the last year, and have come to love you as one of our own children. You have suffered, through no fault of your own, and we pray that one day you will find your own way to lead a life that is happy, and gives you what you so richly deserve. You have so much love to give. Please don't let that go to waste. Our time is over. We have moved on to a better place. All that we ask is you remember, whether you love or hate us, how we tried to touch your lives, and how we tried to help you become better people. We had a long, wonderful life. Do not mourn our passing, instead celebrate the life we have had. We love you all, and God be with you. Mr. Taylor finished the letter, and neatly folded it into it's envelope. They had written it just a month ago, kind of like they knew they were going to die. Why else would they write a letter to be read if they both died? They were in great health, with no sign of illness. It just didn't make sense. What of the actual words? I knew that both Donna and Greg were gay, and the words were carefully phrased to tell them that they were loved for who they were, with no reservations. But when they wrote to my mom, there seemed to be nothing but pity in those words. They didn't even say they were proud of her. That was weird. She was their daughter after all. And why did they say those things to me? I knew they loved me, but as their son? That meant I had become special to them beyond what I'd realized. Did they mean that they hoped Brian and I would get back together? Or did they just mean what was written, with no hidden meanings? My head was spinning with the possibilities. Having given us time to digest the letter, Mr. Taylor cleared his throat. "Shall we continue?" Without waiting for a response, he read the will. Apparently Gram and Gramp were considerably better off than I had been lead to believe. They had property all over the country, and millions in investments. No wonder Grampa could afford to pay for all of my projects. Both Donna and Greg were left three million dollars, and all of the property owned outside of Oregon, to be divided by mutual consent. The inventory of property was very extensive. I could see everyone's jaw slacken as the list went on and on, from beach houses in Florida to mountain homes in Colorado, to a lake house in Vermont. Other things were given to friends, and large sums of money were willed to various charities. Mom still hadn't been mentioned. It was easy to see she was getting nervous, wondering when she would be included. "To Brenda, our daughter. You have become a bitter, hateful person, but in spite of this, we love you still. We bequeath you the contents of your heart: anger, prejudice, and hate. A hate so great that you rejected your own brother and sister, and worst of all, your son. You sent Pete out into the world without shelter, and without love, defenseless. A parent's job is to protect her child until he can survive on his own, regardless of her own prejudice. You owe him your love. Since you feel nothing for the son you brought into this world, we leave you exactly that. Nothing, except what you should have given Pete: Our love. You are disinherited." Mr. Taylor stopped speaking as mom stood and shrieked, "What?! That can't be right! There has to be a mistake!" She charged the executor, who wisely released his copy of the will into her hands. Mom read and reread the page, her eyes getting wider and her face getting whiter each time she did. Stunned, she let the paper slip out of her hand and stumbled back to her seat, still not believing her eyes or ears. Mr. Taylor retrieved the papers from the floor where they had fallen, and continued as if nothing had happened. "To Pete, we are so ashamed of what your mother did to you. You did not deserve to be ripped away from those you loved. We are very sorry we could not do this before, as your mother forbade it. Now she cannot stop us. We have taken steps to help see you reunited with them. "Firstly, to you we bequeath the rest of our assets, totaling slightly over three million dollars. These assets are investments, and are to be held in trust by Mr. Taylor until you are thirty years of age. A fourteen thousand dollar yearly stipend will be distributed by Mr. Taylor in equal monthly payments until you reach your majority. Until that time, this stipend will be under the supervision of your guardian, but is to be used to pay your own expenses within your guardian's judgment. After you reach majority, the stipend will be increased to forty-eight thousand dollars a year, again paid in equal monthly installments, provided you attend college and graduate. You may spend the funds as you will. Keep in mind this is meant to pay for your room, board, and education. After graduation, the stipend will continue until the age of thirty, when you will gain full control of all assets. Brenda Jameson shall not have any access to any funds willed to Peter in any shape, manner, or form, whatsoever. "Secondly, we leave to you the property here in Oregon, to be held in trust and maintained by Mr. Taylor, until you graduate college or reach the age of thirty, which ever occurs first. This property shall not transfer to anyone other than Peter Jameson. "Lastly, we say this to whomever it may concern. In our considered judgment, Peter should not be given into the custody of his mother. To do so would place him in considerable danger, both from his mother, as well as the men she chooses to spend her life with. We plead with the court to find an alternative. Please find a safe, secure place for him to live and be happy until he is ready to go out on his own. "This concludes our final will and testament." ----------------------- Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please e-mail me at dewey2k@yahoo.com. Flames will be deleted. ----------------------- As always, I post all my new chapters to Authors Without Websites first, and later post them at other sites. AWW is an awesome site that has several authors contributing to it. The stories found there are love stories, not sex stories (although some of that does slip in). I recommend you check it out. The address is: http://www.teenboyauthors.org/aww/ ---------------------- I'd like to invite you to join a list that will notify you of new chapters being released for "Pete". To subscribe, you can write to: dewey2k-subscribe@listbot.com You can also subscribe to the list by visiting its ListBot page: http://dewey2k.listbot.com After you send or fill out a join request you will be sent a verification request, to which you will have to reply in order to complete the join process.