Date: Mon, 03 Apr 2000 15:06:35 EDT From: Lyndhurst Rutherford Subject: Tads' Story ---chapter 7 Hello all. It seems that Chapter 7 just flew. It may not be as exciting as the previous six, but it sets the stage for the remainder of the story. I do hope you enjoy. Fear not, chapter 8 is already going down. As always: The following story is purely fictional. This is a concerns friendship, love, and sex between boys. If you are offended by my work, please don't read it. If this story is illegal because of your age or locality, don't read it. This, dear reader, represents my first attempt at writing short stories. If you do choose to read on, I would so enjoy hearing any and all serious observations and critiques from you. Please feel free to e-mail me at lyndie_73@Hotmail.com. Copyright 1999, Lyndhurst Rutherford, all rights reserved. ------------ Tad Story..by Lyndhurst Rutherford...lyndie_73@Hotmail.com Chapter 7 The first lights of the brand new day found me as I was when the previous day had gone. I hadn't gotten much sleep this night. How could I possibly sleep well when my mind was elsewhere, worrying about something over which I had no control. I was of two conflicting views. On one hand I was so terribly lonely without my Tad. My bed now seemed so cold without my angel next to me to snuggle up to. Lord I missed him so. I was also so frightfully absorbed with his welfare. What if something were to happen to him and I wasn't there to protect him? I laughed when I thought of what he'd say to hear that. He'd tell me in no uncertain terms that he didn't require protecting and then become indignant, pointing that sweet little nose of his into the air. My other view was that, perhaps it was all for the best to be apart today. I certainly did need the time to think, and reflect. Not only about our relationship, of which I only had lovely, sensuous, thoughts. But of my next course of action concerning what went on behind the closed doors of his home. It would also afford me the time to question Father about all the little things that I didn't understand, if I could summon up the nerve. Mainly, about who those ruffians were in the pub with Witherspoon, and who was Commander Longley, and what the "BIU" stood for. So many things I didn't understand. Alas, sometimes I forgot that I was still a boy. So many feelings happening so fast. So many things I couldn't understand yet. Father and I had come home last evening after dropping off Tad, and we just barely avoided another scolding from Annabelle. I hardly remember what it was I had for dinner, although to tell the truth, I wasn't that hungry to begin with. Mother and Annabelle were so awfully excited when Father told them of my making the acquaintance of King George, but somehow that all took a back seat to my feelings at that particular moment. Mother thought I was becoming ill, but Father thought quickly and soon had her believing that I was simply exhausted. Excusing myself from the dinner table, I trudged, blindly up to my room. The first thing I needed to do was go to the bathroom. As I finished my business, I started to remove my clothing and prepare for bed, when I noticed that the hamper still contained Tad's dirty clothing from the day before. Reaching into the hamper, I removed Tad's shirt and stood there staring at it. I don't recall how long I stood there, frozen, clutching the only connection I had to my love. Slowly, I brought it up and buried it against my nose, inhaling deeply. Gracious me, I could still smell his scent in the garment, as I started again, uncontrollably, to cry. Dear God, how I wished he were here to hold, instead of his shirt. Having removed the remainder of my clothes, I made my way to my bed, still clutching Tad's shirt against me as I pulled up the blankets and tried to sleep. I did sleep, on and off, but for the most part it was a restless unsound sleep. Next thing I knew, it was time to get up and get dressed for church. Usually, I didn't like going at all. Somehow, this morning the idea appealed to me. Perhaps God might provide a few answers to quell my young confusion? As I dragged myself out from beneath the blankets, I gazed out my open window at the beautiful morning, with a sweet, warm, summer breeze parading past my sleepy face. Surely too beautiful a morning to be cooped up in the stuffy old church. Why can't I spend this morning with...., with... Oh blast it all Sam!, Stop it!, Stop it now!, Get hold of yourself lad! Your beginning to sound like some silly love struck school girl. This is the way it was going to be today, and that's final! I must listen to my own advice about being strong. For my own sake, I convinced myself that I must put on a smile and deal with life, or people might start to wonder about me. Surely I mustn't let Mother see me in this state, or everything might become known, and I wasn't ready for the world to know about us. After all, it's just today, right? I'll see him tomorrow. Right? Of course right! I took Tad's left behind shirt out from under the blankets, where it had spent the night with me, and was about to toss it back in the hamper when I changed my mind and carefully placed it in my special locked drawer. In this drawer, was kept all the important momentos of a young boys life. Locked to prevent snooping maids and such. I then headed to the bathroom and took a quick bath and dressed in another suit so as to look respectable for church. Gads! another suit. That's the second day in a row! I was becoming a regular Lord Fauntleroy, I thought with a laugh. Suddenly, I was in a hurry. I realized that I was starving! I should have eaten more at dinner last night. Finally, at long last, I arrived at the breakfast table, where, as usual, Father had his nose buried in the newspaper. As Mother hadn't arrived yet, I thought to myself that it was now or never. "Good morning Father". "Ahh..Sam! Good morning son. Sleep well?" he said, without lifting his eyes from the news of the day. "Yes Sir. Quite well, thank you. Father, I've got to ask you something". "Yes...go on". (Nose still in the paper). "Would you be kind enough to put the paper down Sir?", I said, rather insistently. My father slowly lowered the paper, eyes looking at me as though he didn't know who was talking. Never, had I addressed him in this manner. "Well..,now that you have my attention, do go on" he said, with a most serious expression on his face. Dear God, what have I done? "I, Uh...., ugh..Who..." "Dear me Sam, spit it out lad. I'm not going to bite your head off !" "Father, there are some things, things I don't understand..." "Well, come now. Pray tell". "Well sir, yesterday, those men at the pub sitting with Witherspoon, you knew them, I know you did. Who are they ? And also, what does BIU stand for ?" I had asked my questions without taking my eyes off his, and dear God I wanted to look away. But, I kept telling myself that if I was going to ask father like a man, I'd look him right in the eyes as a man. Father was looking at me, not knowing quite what to say. Putting down his paper, he seemed to be considering in his mind, what to tell me. After the longest time, he spoke. "Sam, during the course of my early life, I have had dealings with people that I'm not exactly proud of. I, uh.., knew these men from years ago when, after I graduated University, before I met your mother, I had to support myself by working on the waterfront, unloading cargo ships. "These men were involved, as alot of people were, in the illegal import of such things as Opium, stolen jewelry, counterfeiting, etc, etc". "Opium, father ? What's opium ?" "Opium is an illegal drug, from China that quite honestly, robs men of their lives and souls. Once taken, it becomes addictive and you must have it all the time just to survive, if you can call it that. People addicted to it will do anything to get the money to buy more, because they must have it. The people that supply it make huge amounts of money on these poor addicted creatures, and will eliminate anything, or anyone, that gets in their way". "Then, Father! Dear God, Tad's in danger!!" "No..,not necessarily. I doubt weather a small boy would pose a threat to them. But that's where the BIU comes in." "I don't understand Father". "The BIU stands for...Oh dear, I shouldn't tell you all of this..." "Father, damn it all ! I have a right to know !" My father looked at me, astonished that I would speak to him in this manner. But I was past the point of caring what happened to me. I simply had to know at all costs. "That will be quite enough, young man" he said angrily. The BIU stands for British Intelligence Unit." "Who..???" "Sam, the British Intelligence Unit, is his Majesty's private police. They are more or less like spies, and go where the regular police dare not to. Their actions are secret and they report only to His Majesty." "Father, are you saying that you have the BIU going after Witherspoon?" "Well....,er...,more or less,...yes, among other things". "What other things Father?" "Things that are none of your concern. And that, young man, will be all I will say on the subject. Understood?" "Yes sir" I answered, knowing quite well, by the look in his face, not to push any further unless I wanted to incur Father's wrath. "Eat Samuel, and I will inform you as necessary. Quiet now, here comes mother". Father and I managed to put on our happy faces rather quickly at that point as not to alert mother that anything was wrong. I managed to make small talk with Mother, eat, and be pleasant all through breakfast. I now wished that I hadn't talked to father because I was more worried and confused than before. All this talk of spies, and opium. What had this to do with my sweetheart, my angel? Well, I did wish to know. Which brings to mind a saying I've heard. "Be careful what you wish for. You just may get it". Father and I put on our best "poker faces", and off we went to church. After church, as Mother and Father made social small talk with their friends, I happened to meet up with some boys from school and the village, that I knew. I hadn't seen them since school let out a week or two ago because I'd spent all my time with Tad. Funny, I had forgotten they even existed. They stood, as usual at the back of the small play ground next to the church, where they could cast an eye or two at the young ladies that lived in the village. There was Brandon Loew, Charles Dolen, and Michael Harwick. Brandon and Charles were my age, but not remotely interested in anything that I was. Michael was two years older and never had time to be interested in anything besides school and work. Still, I was accepted by them as a friend and they made a nice diversion to an otherwise dreadfully boring, and lonely day. Brandon and Charles were a matched set of fools. Both class clowns and both, always together. They were more like bloody twins if you ask me. They both had red hair and freckles, and both, always in some trouble together. But they were always good for a laugh, and I really needed a laugh today. Michael was different. He didn't go to our school as his family was not as well off as the rest of us. Not to say he was poor, mind you, but in a different class socially. His father owned the import export warehouse at the village waterfront and Mickey, as he preferred to be called, usually spent the summers and after school hours working at his fathers warehouse unloading cargo with some other burly men that worked there. He was a trifle quiet, and built rather big for his age, with plenty of muscle that came from hard work. But always, a friendly chap, always willing to lend you a hand if you needed one. I always felt sorry for him. He always wanted to go tramping about the woods with me, but his obligation was to the family business, and his father always needed him after school. As I got close, it was Brandon that spoke to me first. "Well now, if it isn't the long lost Mr. Hedge. Where have you been, mate? Have you got a girl we don't know about ??" Both he and Charles laughed at there childish humor, with Michael quiet as usual. "No, dear boy, I've been busy with..., things". "Hey, maybe he's been busy with that thing in his trousers!", said Charles. "Is that what's got your interest Charles, my thing???" Now it was Brandon, Michael and I that laughed at a now clearly annoyed, Charles. Suddenly, I was annoyed at the childish humor of the "Twins", and struck up a conversation with Michael. As we talked we started walking away from the twins and soon found ourselves off in a corner by ourselves. Michael was a good sort. Never in trouble and always friendly. Funny though, as we stood talking I had my first, real look at him. Not as the Michael I used to know. No, this was different. I started thinking to myself how incredibly handsome he was. Jet black hair, brown eyes, chiseled features, and muscles, oh those muscles. God, what was wrong with me? I never looked at a girl this way and here I was starting to wonder what he looked like without his trousers. Heavens, was I sick? I loved Tad, but somehow Michael's body was exciting me also. I've got to put this out of my mind. Oh, I wish Tad were here. "Sammy,...oh Sammy, are you listening mate ?" I had been so preoccupied with Michael's body, I hadn't heard a word he'd said to me. "You goin' daft on me, eh?" "No Mickey, just a little tired I guess". I told him about my trip to London with Father and Tad, and meeting the king and all. "Lord have mercy, you ?? You met the bloody king ? Go on. What's he like?" We had a good laugh over the story about how silly Mr.Smithers looked and how we had ice cream and cookies. "Say, Sammy, your good mates with that Thomas Winslow then, right?" "Yes, I'd say so. What of it?" "Well, I don't have anything against him, but as a friend, stay clear of that step father of his." "Witherspoon?" "Yeah, mate. He's the one." Now Michael had my full attention, indeed. "Look Mickey, we're very close now and I've met Witherspoon. Can't say as I like the blighter, in fact he makes my skin crawl. What do you know that I don't ?" "Aww..., nothin' really. I shouldn't have said anything." "Mickey, please...I,....I'm worried about him, living with that bloke. Please tell me". Looking about, as if anyone was listening, Michael lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. "Look, every once a week or so, Witherspoon comes down to the docks, real late, mind you. About midnight or so. He waits for a scraggly old ship that brings him huge locked crates and he stores it in the warehouse till the next day, when three real nasty lookin' mugs come to pick them up". "What's in the crates?" "Don't know gov'. He pays my dad double the storage, not to ask questions. The only reason I knows is, I've been there when Witherspoon leaves the crates. Lots o' times I'm left tidyin' up and such till late, so's me that unlocks an' lets him in. He's warned me more than once to keep me trap shut". "Mickey, are you telling the truth ? I can't believe this". "On my word, mate. Every bit the truth. Say, if you don't believe me why don't you come have a look see for yourself?" The idea intrigued me to the core. Perhaps Mickey and I could get one of those crates open and have a look see. "I'd love it Mick, when???" "Well, how's about this afternoon about three? I've got to be there anyway to put away a delivery that I promised my dad I'd do. I'll be there all by my lonesome". I thought for a second. I'd have to find some way to get out of the house for a couple of hours before Sunday dinner. I may regret poking my nose where it wasn't welcome, but I've got to do this. I had to find out what bad business Witherspoon was up to. "Sammy?,...Here now gov', you look like you just met the devil himself. What's it going to be then, you comin'?" "Yes, I'll be there with bells on, Mick". All the while that Mick and I had been talking, I stood facing where Brandon and Charles were. I don't know weather it was my imagination or what, but I kept getting the funniest stares from Brandon. Annoyed stares, as if he were angry about something. Eventually, Charles had to leave and soon as he was gone, Brandon literally ran over to where Mick and I were. The most annoying thing though, he rudely placed himself between Mick and me, which made it quite difficult, to say the least, to have a conversation. When Brandon approached, Mick and I changed the topic of conversation rather quickly. "What you two jabbern' about, eh?" said Brandon, while giving me a quite peculiar stare. "Ahh..,nothin' in particular, Brand", said Mick. Just then, Mother called to me that we were leaving, so I said my good byes and started walking away. But as I did, I heard Brandon saying, "So..what's that all about?", in a very sharp tone. But that's all I heard. Why should he be so nosey? At any rate, I quickly forgot Brandon and joined my parents in the car for the ride home. This, I thought, would be my next course of action. To dig up anything I could on Whitherspoon. Deep down in my heart, I knew that he was up to something no good, and I knew that, eventually, Tad would get caught up in the middle of it. But this time I would go it alone. I would not even tell Father what I was up to. If he had his secrets, then too shall I. "Mother, Mickey has invited me to go fishing off the docks this afternoon. May I join him?" "Fishing? Today, on the Lords day? Well...,I suppose so, if you must. When will you be going?" "About noon. That will give us plenty of time". "Will you be taking Thomas along?" "Oh, no Mother, he's got chores and such all day. Just Mickey and me". "Well young man, so long as your home, bathed and dressed at five for Sunday dinner. I've invited Father O'Connell, so mind you, don't be late, understood?" "Yes Ma'am, I quite understand". Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Father had one of his "What's he up to?", looks on his face, but dismissed it as Mother was jabbering his ear off about this and that. Once we arrived home, I quickly gathered my fishing equipment in the garage and then went up to my room to change. Fishing, I thought. Certainly was a nice enough day for it, in fact absolutely beautiful. The air was sweet and warm, the birds sang to their mates. If only I could sing to my mate. Oh blast! There I go again, thinking of sweet Tad and longing for love. But, oh, that I could share this day with him, staring for hours into those warm, melting eyes of his, kissing those sweet lips, holding him tightly in my arms and feeling his warmth next to me. It would be a close contest. Who was the lovelier, mother nature, or my love. To hell with mother nature. It was Tad by leaps and bounds. No use, I just couldn't get him out of my mind. Everything reminded me of him. As I took my suit off and lay it on my bed to wear later for dinner, I wondered if he was all right and what he was doing at that moment. Was he thinking of me, or was he trying to protect himself from Witherspoon? Maybe I should pop past his house on my way to meet Mickey? Perhaps I'd catch a glimpse of him outside? No Sam! Stay away! You might just get him in trouble if you were seen. Anyway, if you did see him, you couldn't leave again, you twit. Damn, why did I have to fall in love with him anyway? I got dressed in my best mucking about clothes and looked at my pocket watch. Still eleven o'clock. I told Mother I'd meet Mickey at noon. Better be off. Perhaps he'd be early? Well, at any rate I'd do some fishing while I had time to kill. I just couldn't sit here any longer. To much free time to think. All I thought about was Tad anyway, and that only made me sadder. I yelled my good byes to Mother and Father as I practically flew out the door. I stopped at the garage, picked up my fishing gear and was off. As I walked towards the docks, the village streets seemed so deserted. It was always so on Sundays. Everyone too lazy to go out, or off visiting family somewhere. When I got to the docks it was just as quiet, with only the squeals of the seagulls as they languidly hovered over my head, ready to snatch my fishing bait before it hit the water. Damn pesky birds. You'd cast your line and they would intercept it in mid air. Almost always getting the hook caught in their mouths. Then came the real fight. Trying to reel them in close enough so as to be able to get the hook out. What a terrible fight they'd put up, flapping their wings and squawking just as noisily as they could. It was still a bit early so I sat down at the edge of the dock. The afternoon sun felt so soothing and warm against my face, with the slight breeze of salt air blowing through my hair. I always tried to imagine where that air had blown in from. Being sea air, it could have been blown in from any part of the world. I wondered who had breathed it last, or who's face it had caressed, on it's way to me? The sea air always smelled so good and brought with it a certain tranquillity not found further inland. Having not seen a living soul in more than half an hour, I walked down to the front of the warehouse that belonged to Mickey's Father, "J. HARWICK LTD. IMPORTS - EXPORTS - SHIPPING.". I realized that I might be a trifle early, but I absolutely couldn't stand the wait any longer. Patience, I was beginning to discover, was not one of my stronger virtues. As I approached the office door, I noticed that the shade above the door was drawn down, and from what I could see, there were no signs of life at all inside. Had Mickey forgotten me? Maybe he was late himself? I set my fishing gear down, away from the door so as not to be noticed and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again, louder. Still no answer. Maybe he was in the back and didn't hear me? I tried the door knob and lo and behold, the door was unlocked. Slowly I stuck my face in and called out to him. No answer, and the place was as dark as a cave. I went inside and slowly shut the door. After my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began looking about. There were boxes and crates everywhere. Huge wooden pallets filled with all sorts of crates of all sizes and shapes. As I crept through the darkness of the warehouse, I became aware of a very faint sound. A sort up thumping sound, followed by very soft giggles. Giggles? What in the world? Slowly and quietly I followed the sounds until I came to the back of the warehouse, where row apon row of crates were stacked. Still following the sounds, they were getting louder, and I heard what sounded like moaning. Suddenly, I peered over a row of crates and saw a faint light, like that of candles. Sure enough it was candles, and....Holy mother of God! I couldn't believe my eyes! There, in the midst of all the crates, the sight that stood before me was astounding. The moaning and giggling were coming from...,from................ Michael and Brandon! They were Naked ! They were naked on the floor amidst a pile of blankets and candles. So far I hadn't been seen, thank God. Gracious, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. As I watched, they were locked in a hot embrace as Michael lay on his back and Brandon lay on top of him. They looked so beautiful together. No wonder Brandon was angry looking back at the church. He was bloody jealous ! As I watched them make love,I knew that I should have left, but the sight was absolutely captivating. I could finally see what Michael was made of. His body was a sight to behold, with his muscles all covered in sweat, his hair all messed up, and...oh lord I couldn't help myself but get excited looking at his penis. It was huge! Oh, so beautiful as Brandon rubbed his skinny hairless body all over Michael's, their two penises rubbing together in sweet unision. Michael's hands were all over Brandon as they kissed passionately. It was Brandon that broke that embrace as he slowly slid down Michael's muscular body, kissing every inch on a downward trip to his final destination. I could then see all of Michael's wonderful penis. It had to be at lest six inches! Not wide around though, but lordy, he had hair growing around the bottom of it. Brandon's penis was more like mine, and I could see that Michael loved his sweet, smooth body by the way his head was rolling from side to side, eyes closed, and his hands roaming every soft inch of Brandon's body. "Oh, god yeah Brand, Oh...no...please don't stop baby, oh...my sweet lover". "What do you want then Mickey?", Brandon said with a sweet baby pout. "Oh...oooooh god, love, you know what I need. Please...put me in your mouth, please!" "Promise that you won't go getting me jealous again. I can't stand when you talk to other boys. Your mine sweetheart, all mine." "Oh...Yesss, I p-p-promise...oh, please." With that, Brandon hopped over the top of Michael so that his little penis was over Michael's face. Grabbing Michael's penis in his hand, Brandon stuck his tongue out and started licking it up and down, so slowly, as his hand made a tight fist around the base and he stroked Michael's beautiful length from top to bottom. Next, Brandon worked his way down to Michael's testicles, lovingly kissing and licking each one so gently. Mean time Michael was busy with Brandon's penis, totally swallowed in his mouth. Brandon was completely smothering Michael's penis with his tongue, making it glisten from saliva. Slowly, he took the huge head in his mouth and I watched as it slowly slid between his tight, warm, slurping, lips, making Michael's hips writhe on the floor, trying to get more of himself into Brandon's mouth. "Oh, God..yesss, Brandy baby,ohhhh, yeah...you do that soooo, good. Please take it all...ohhhh, onhnnghhh,yesssss, ohh I love you so much". Michael then did something that I wanted to do to Tad. I couldn't believe what an innovative lover Michael was, as he used both hands to separate Brandon's butt cheeks. Then he started licking him all around his butt hole, finally sticking his tongue, slowly into Brandon's insides. By this point, Brandon was going berserk, wiggling his sweet butt into Michael's face as to get even more of his tongue inside him, as he was now fully absorbed with Michael's penis, it's entire length now fully engulfed in his hot, slimy, mouth. His head bobbed up and down on Michael, as the entire six inches disappeared and re appeared at an amazing speed. Michael was so huge, I couldn't imagine how Brandon took him all the way down his throat without gagging. As I watched them with embarrassed excitement, nothing could be heard, save for the sweet sounds of lovers, locked into their own fiery world of passion. They were totally oblivious to anything except their frenzied love making, their soft moans and groans giving way to gasps of air. This was so beautiful a scene to witness. I wondered if Tad and I looked as sweet when we loved each other? Suddenly, Brandon stopped his loving attention to Michael's penis. "Michael...oh god, what are you doing to me sweet? Your turning my insides to jelly. Please, dear god, Michael, take me now, before I explode. Oh....I..,I neeed you i-i-nside me. Michael, darling,oooooh, please..aalll of you. I need it now". With that, Michael stopped loving Brandon's backside, as Brandon slid off Michael's body, but remained on his knees. Michael then got on his knees directly behind Brandon, his wonderful penis wedging itself between the hot, slippery, cheeks of Brandon's backside. Michael remained in that position, rubbing the head of his penis along the entrance to Brandon's insides, as Brandon pushed himself back to meet the advances of his sweet love. Heads thrown back, eyes closed, their entire world was of total bliss and abandonment to each other. Brandon reached back and guided his lover to it's intended course. "Oh, Ohhhhyesss...Oh god Michael. Oh sweet love, pushhh, uhggnnn, yess.... oooohh, pushhh it all in, oh yess, I've got to feel all of you inside me or I'll dieee!!!Oh...yess now...." As I watched, Michael slowly slid the entire length of his manhood into the unyielding channel that seemed to fit like a snug, warm, glove, around his penis. In a minute he was entirely inside his love. Suddenly I grasped the beauty of it. No longer were there two boys. They were now as one, sharing their love for one another, perhaps for only a little while, but always, forever recalled with fondness. Slowly they picked up speed, pounding and slapping against one another, creating a rhythm of love. Caresses are shared, sweet words of love are shouted at the top of their lungs, as the sweat poured from them. How in the world, I thought, could Brandon accept that which Michael had slid inside him, without any pain at all. But alas, Brandon's face spoke not of pain, but utter and complete satisfaction at being filled by Michael's manhood, uttering unintelligible words of love that only spurred Michael on to complete his duty. "Ughh...Oh, Brandy, sweets,...ohhh yes...baby, push, ohnn, it's coming, now.....h hhhhere it comes ,...ohh god Brandy,Brandy,Brandy,Brandy, yesss..........." "Ohh..,that's it my Michael..come on darling...,yess, ooo show me how much you love meeeee....., ohhh yess finish inside me... oh come on, come on..ugh,ugh,ugh,ugh,ugh,ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....god...love you, love you, love you, love you, love you, love you, love yooooou.........," At that instant, frozen in time and space, two lovers reached the highest high of their love, as teeth gritted, bodies pushed hotly against one another, screaming out their undying love for each other. Finally....they collapsed on top of each other, their love satisfied for the time being, and it was all over as quickly as it had begun. As Michael and Brandon lay clutching and caressing, cooing their words of love in the afterglow, I suddenly recalled having a need to breathe again, unaware that I had been holding my breath, or how long I had been holding it. My mouth was dry and my face was burning. Suddenly, I was truly ashamed with myself. Ashamed for having seen what I saw, being an intruder on the most private of moments. How would I have felt if it were Tad and I that were discovered? I knew I had to get away. I darted down behind the crates I had hidden behind and started to crawl towards where I had come from. As I almost made it away, suddenly a huge rat darted across my path, giving me an awful fright. I cringed as a scream of panic escaped my lungs. Damn, I was caught.... As I tried to hide, I heard Brandon scream in shear terror as Michael came around the rows of crates with a big piece of wood in his hands, ready to strike the intruder, when at the last moment he saw it was me. "No Mickey, don't hit! It's just me !" I shouted, trying to keep my head from being pounded in. Michael dropped the wooden weapon as he screamed at me, in terror as he started to cry. "Wha..Oh god, Sam...What in the bloody hell are you doing here? Why.." He said no more, but ran in the direction of where Brandon was. Collecting my wits took a minute or two, as I sat there and shook. I just wanted to crawl away and die. As I sat there, it was Brandon that came back there next. At least he'd taken the time to put his trousers back on. He stood for a moment, eyeing me with fear and terror in his eyes. "Brandon, I.., I didn't mean to,...to...." Suddenly Brandon's face softened and he spoke. "No Sam, I don't think you did mean to see us. Come to think of it, how much did you see?". Looking sheepish, I said,"All of it". Brandon looked as if he were about to faint dead away. "Sam, uhh..look, we've got to talk. All of us". Reaching out his hand, I could see he more scared than angry, he said,"Come on back here with me and Michael". I took Brandon's hand as he helped me back to my feet and followed him back to the spot they had been in when I saw them. By the time I got there, thank god, Michael was almost dressed. But he was still on the verge of tears. We all sat down on some crates and for a moment, no one knew quite what to say. Finally, Brandon spoke. "Sam...., what you uh.., what you saw..." "Brandon, what I saw was none of my business, and I am deeply sorry and ashamed of myself. Can you both please forgive me?" They looked at each other, astonished. "You mean, that's all?" said Brandon."You come in here, see two of your mates making babies, and all, and all you feel is sorry? You mean your not going to hate us and tell the entire town that we're a couple of bloomin' fags?" "No Brandon, why the devil should I? And..what's a fag?", I said flatly. Michael spoke to me then, as Brandon was taken aback by my not knowing what a fag was. "Sam, that's what they call two blokes what makes love to one another. Most of the world would be ready to kill or beat people like us. Don't you know that?" "Dear God, no Mickey! That's an awful word anyway." "Sam," said Brandon,"Please, you can't tell anyone about us. No one. You see Sam, well..." Michael took Brandon's hand and held it against his lips leaving a trace of a kiss as Brandon looked deep into his eyes and smiled, then turned to me. "Sam, what Brandy's trying to say is that we love each other. Hopelessly, madly in love. If the world finds out, they'll keep us apart and we'll never see each other again. And to be honest, I couldn't live without my Brandy". "And dear Michael, I couldn't live without you, sweets". "Brandon, is this why you became all testy with me when I was talking to Michael at the church this morning?" "Well...yes. I guess I do tend to become somewhat jealous". "Jealous??? The way you were acting was positively viscous! For your information my dear boy, I'm not the least bit interested in your...er.....boyfriend", which wasn't exactly the gospel, but why stir things up? "Sam," said Michael,"We've go to have your word that you won't tell, please!" I looked at the two of them who were now more interested in looking into each others eyes than at me. Somehow, I knew that I had found two allies. Two people that understood the way I, er...Tad and I, felt. After thinking a moment or two, I decided to be honest with them. After all, I knew their deepest darkest secret. I knew that they'd keep mine. "Michael, Brandon, I swear I won't tell a living soul. You see, I know what it is to be in love". "Really Mate?", said Michael. "Well then, tell, who is she?", he said, the both of them suddenly grinning from ear to ear. Before I spoke, I stared at the two of them and thought, lord was I going to drop a bomb on them and wipe those silly smiles off their faces. `"Well, uh..,not a she". After I said those few words, I watched their faces as, for a moment, the wheels turned in their brains. The smiles on their faces disappeared, were momentarily replaced by confusion, and then reality kicked in as both of them were sent into immediate shock, mouths hanging wide open. For the longest time, not a sound was heard, as it seemed that they both lost their tongues. "Samuel Hedge! You...,you mean...uh,wha..who?...",stammered Michael. "Sam? Your...one of us?", said Brandon. "No Brandon, I am not a...a..a fag. Cripes what an awful expression! No, I just happen to be.....in love. I'm in love with the sweetest, kindest, handsomest, person in the world. Just so happens that he's a HE, or rather a boy, to be exact. And in THAT respect, yes, I guess I am one of you". "Look at his face, Brandy", said Michael. "Look at the expression on his mug. He's tellin' the bloody truth, he is". I just couldn't help myself. In that second, I had started to think about my angel again. "Well then gov, who is he?", said Michael. "No...no, I'm not telling yet. Not without asking him first. It wouldn't be fair. Do your parents know?" "Are you daft, mate?", said Michael. "My dad would cut my bloody thing off if he ever knew!". "My Mum n' Dad don't know either. And, Sam, it's got to stay that way", pleaded Brandon. "How in the lords name do you hide it from Charles? You and he are never apart". "Well, it hasn't bloody well been easy. Stealing the moment here, and there. And also in the last month or two, we've been growing apart really, and I've been making up excuses and such just to get away from him and be with my Michael". As I looked at them both, I saw a reflection of both Tad and myself. I saw all the love in their eyes, and it was so beautiful. I was so happy for them. "Brandon, Michael, listen to me. I wouldn't say anything if my life depended on it. We all know about each other now so we've got to stick together. I'm so happy that the two of you have found each other. When we're ready, my lover and I, I'll let you know who he is. But you both must be careful, or everyone will know. That means you Brandon". "Me? What ever do you mean?" "He means the jealousy, ya' twit", said Michael. "You got to trust me love. You got to believe that I love you and only you. If you go gettin' all huffy in front of everyone, especially Charles, it's all done mate". "Oh, yeah, well maybe your right. I'm sorry sweets, it's just that, oh..., your so damn beautiful that I....,I..." "I know Brandy. I know. Ah, what am I going to do with you?". "I know what you can do, sweets". Suddenly they were at it again, exchanging sweet little kisses and little love words, and my presence was quickly forgotten. "Ehhem....Uh, Mickey?, Brandon? Should I leave or something? I do have to be home some time today, Mickey, so how's about you show me Witherspoon's crates, eh?" Reluctantly, they let go of each other and looked at me, and we all burst out in laughter. After the two of them finished getting dressed, Mickey made sure that the main doors were all secured so we'd get no more visitors, such as myself, and led us down to the back of the dingey warehouse to where a row of crates lay neatly stacked under a huge tarp. As I lifted the corner of the tarp, one of the crates that didn't have any others stacked on top of it, came into view. They were plain wooden crates, about as large as me, but had Chinese writing stamped on it's side, and a huge keyed padlock on the cover. "Here you go, mate. These are all the crates 'ole Whitherspoon stores here" said Mickey. As I knelt at the lock, I tried shaking it loose, but it was quite secure. "Mickey, you don't happen to have a key, do you?" "No, but Dad keeps lock pickin' tools in the office and he's been teaching me to use 'em. Hold up a bit and I'll get 'em". In a minute he was back and set about the task of picking the lock on the crate. In the dim light that seeped through the windows of the dusty warehouse, Mickey applied various pointed little tools to the keyhole of the lock, and suddenly the lock sprang open and a huge smile sprang up apon Mickey's face. "Good show Mick. Now let's have a look, shall we?" Slowly, not knowing what to expect, I lifted the heavy lid of the crate. Looking inside, I was more confused than before. Inside the crate lay row apon row of little brick shaped objects all wrapped in white paper. "Well Sammy, what have you got?" said Brandon. "I can't really say". I said removing one of the bricks. What was wrapped in the paper, felt soft and pliable somewhat like clay. Laying the brick on the floor, I carefully unwrapped the paper surrounding it. The substance was brown in color, smelled funny and gave every indication of being clay. "Right, mate. That's what we were all excited to see? Some ruddy piece of clay?", said Mickey. As I studied the brick, I couldn't think why Witherspoon would go to all this bother for simple clay. Why the secretiveness, paying Mickey's Dad double the storage to keep quiet, just for bloody clay? Just then we were all startled to hear cars drive up to the warehouse. "Quick Sam, put the bloody thing back in" said Brandon. I wrapped the brick back up, placed it back as it was, closed the lid, and snapped the lock shut again. Mickey pulled the tarp back over the crates and we all dove for cover behind some more rows of crates. "Lord, Mickey, sounds like somebody's fooling with the bloody door" said Brandon. True, someone was picking the lock of the office door to the warehouse. To make matters worse, we heard the sounds of several male voices. We were all scared to death. We didn't dare make a sound for fear of being caught by whatever intruder was outside the door. Suddenly we heard the door open and with the light from outside, I could see the shape of three men enter. Dear God, how I wished I were back home at this moment. Brandon was now cowering against Mickey for protection and Mickey motioned me to be still, as if I required reminding. From where we had hidden ourselves we had a clear view of the door and Witherspoon's crates. "Jiles, ya' know, I don't likes breakin' into places in the daylight". "Oh, come off it Regg. There's not a soul for miles here on a Sunday". "Well, I still don't likes it, a - tall, Gov". "Will you two please put a top on it and let's get on and get out?" Wait !!!, there were three voices. Two low class gutter rats that I didn't recognize, and one that I did. Blast.....WITHERSPOON!!!!! Well if I didn't know what this was all about, I may shortly, if they didn't find us first. I was so scared I nearly wet my trousers. What was the bastard up to ?? If he finds me I'm a dead young man. I did so wish that Father were here. I slowly peeked through a crack between the crates to get a look, and in the light that was available, saw that he was in the company of the same ruffians that were with him in the London pub. Now that I had a better look at them, they looked more dangerous than before. One, named Suthers, was about the size of Witherspoon, but much fatter and older, with a big nose and wearing a tweed cap. The other was a monster of a man. They called him Sledge. He stood about as high as a mountain, I was sure of it. His face was dark and foreboding, and to look him in the eyes was compared to a visit from the angel of death, with only ice water in his veins. The ugliest things about him was a huge scar across his left cheek and a cleanly shaven head. As my eyes adjusted to the view, I noticed that Sledge carried something slung over his shoulder, wrapped in a blanket. Witherspoon spoke again. "Suthers, bring that empty crate over there and lets dump him in it". Suthers dragged over an empty crate and Sledge put "Him", into it. My Lord, who was "Him". It wasn't big enough to be a man, so..... All at once, my blood ran cold, and I was on the verge of hysteria. If it wasn't a man, then it could only be a...a,..a boy! Holy Mary, Mother of God....it couldn't be.... "I should have taken care of the little lout much sooner than this. With all his new friends and all, the little beggar was getting too close. He would have known everything sooner or later", said Witherspoon with an evil sneer. "What happened to his mum, Jiles?" said Sledge. "Well, if you must know, I've had her committed to a London mental institution. And if the bloody neighbors pester me about the boy, I'll simply tell them that he's been shipped to boarding school. For his own good, mind you. Quite a pity, you know, having ones mother lose her mind ". They all laughed. Dear God!!! Tad!!!, Tad's in the bloody box! They've killed him and it's all my fault. Supreme rage tore through my every fiber as I started to leave the confines of my hiding place, my mind in a whirlwind of anger and hate. I wanted to tear them apart with my bare hands. Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled savagely back to the floor. Michael had grabbed hold of me at the last minute and clamped his hand over my mouth, as Brandon sat atop of me, preventing me from going on with a murderous rampage. As I lay immobile, my face red hot with rage, tears streaming down my face and burning my eyes, my mind raced. I hadn't been there to protect him! Dear God, my love is dead and it's all my doing. If he hadn't been friends with me...... My world was crashing down about me. My life was over. If it didn't include Tad, then I had no life. But wait, I shall live yet, I shall live only for revenge. Witherspoon won't know a seconds peace, on that I swear by all that's holy. As I lay there, I could still hear Witherspoon talking as they hammered shut the top of Tad's "coffin", with Mickey now doing the watching. "This little village has served it's purpose long enough. Two more weeks until the buyers take this shipment and I shall also take my leave, never to be seen again. I should have gotten rid of this little rat, like his father, long ago". Sledge, come the evening dark, take this crate and dump it in the water, to be gone forever". So that's it! He killed Tad's Father too. It was all some sick front for his dastardly scheme. My rage consumed me, turning round and round in my head, until everything went black and I fainted. The next thing I knew, Mickey was slapping my face and calling my name amid his own tears. "Sam, Sam ! Wake up! Come on gov....." As I gradually awoke, both Mickey and Brandon were hugging the daylights out of me. "Oh god Sam, you gave us an awful fright", said Brandon. "Have they gone?", I asked. "Yeah mate, there gone", said Mickey. "TAD !!!!!", I screamed, as I ran for the crate that held my love, crying again and desperately trying to pry open the crate with my fingers. I only succeeded in bloodying my knuckles, but I wasn't feeling any pain, only rage....pure rage, as I slammed my bloody fists at the crate in sheer frustration and exhaustion, collapsing in a tear filled heap atop the crate and crying my eyes out. Brandon bent down and put his arms around me and tried to comfort me, but it was use, there was no comforting the pain inside me. "It was Tad, wasn't it Sam??", said Brandon. "It was Tad that you loved, right?" I just shook my head as the rest of me shook with hate, unable to stop. "He's dead, Brand, and it's all my fault!!", I screamed through my tears. Suddenly Mickey and Brandon lifted me off the crate, and as I sat there and watched in horror, Mickey used a hammer and pry bar to open the crate. As he got it open, he felt inside as I sat holding my head. "Here, Brandy, give me a hand", he said as they lifted Tad's body out of the crate and lay him on the floor. I pushed my way past them and covered Tad's body with my own, brushing back his hair, looking at his beautiful face and kissing his cheeks. Wait!...There was something awfully wrong. His body wasn't cold, like the Bishops body when I touched it! Slowly, I kissed his sweet lips and,...thank the heavens! I could scarcely contain my joy! His lips were warm, I felt his breath ! My angel, my love, He was breathing! He was alive ! Now I cried and screamed for joy, as I realized that Tad wasn't dead after all. But why ? What was wrong with him? Was he asleep ? He was wearing the same clothes that he wore Sunday, my old suit. But it looks as if he'd slept in them. We all gathered round and were looking at Tad, when suddenly there came a loud click noise from behind. We looked up and I nearly fainted dead away! Looking back at us was the barrel of a pistol with the hammer drawn back, and holding it was.......SLEDGE! None of us moved, as we stared into that frightening face of his. "Right! What have we here?",he growled. Summoning up all my courage, I dared answer him back. "Go ahead and shoot you dirty ruffian, I won't let you hurt him, So you'll just have to shoot through me". "Sam!!! Shut that bloody hole in your face!", shouted Mickey, who was white as a ghost, with Brandon cowering beside him. "Well, well....little Winslow's got mates has he?? And I take it that you must be Sam, right?" "How in the bloody hell would you know who I was?", I asked, confused. "Oh,..you see, I know all sorts o' things, little master Hedge", he growled. Every word had the sound and smell of death written on it. "Well then, you also know that if you kill me, that my father will track you to the very ends of the earth and find you". "SAM!!! SHUT THE HELL UP!!!", screamed a terrified Mickey. "Your father, eh.., my dear Master Hedge. Was your father what found me!", he said with an ominous laugh. My father, found him??? What exactly was he on about?? Just then he put away the gun. My mind raced trying to figure out what was going on. "Confused, master Hedge? Don't be. And don't be scared o' me neither, please". Somehow, his tone of voice had changed. He was sounding different, almost friendly. The evil sneer was gone from his ugly face also. He could tell by my silence that I didn't quite know what to say, so he continued. "Master Hedge, don't be so surprised. Your father did find me, in a manner of speaking. You see he's been talking to my boss". "Witherspoon?", I asked. "Lordy, no gov. Not the likes of him. My boss is Commander Longley. You see son, I'm an agent with BIU". "BIU??, BIU??, Michael, Brandon, get up! Don't be scared anymore. He's in His Majesty's service!", I yelled, a smile starting to appear across my face, as relief spread across my body. Still I could tell that my two friends were still rather perplexed. Well, who could blame them after all the sordid goings on they'd been witness to. "Sir", I said, "would you please explain to me what the devil is going on here, and what happened to my friend Tad?" "I haven't much time, lad, so listen up". As the three of us listened with undivided attention, Sledge, began to clear up many of the mysteries that I had acquired in the last few days. He first explained that the BIU has been following Witherspoon for months because he was in the business of importing illegal Opium. It was now illegal due to trade agreements between Britain and China. Although Burma and India said they were also curtailing the shipment of opium, it was merely a farce. To complicate matters, both those countries were still shipping raw opium to high level processors in China. Witherspoon buys the processed opium and sells it to other European nations where they derive a substance called Heroine. Heroine is twice as addictive and three times more lucrative, and becoming very popular . The brown clay bricks that we saw were bricks of processed opium. "Well, then what about Tad?", I asked. "You see after Witherspoon arranged the disappearance of his father, he figured that his house and family would make an unsuspecting front for him and his goings on. Ole' Jiles accepts me as a member of his gang, but he's ready to move on, he's getting skittish. So he's getting rid of all things that can point to him, like Tad's mum". He obviously saw the worry in my face at the mention of Tad's mother and her being in an insane institution. "Now, now...don't worry. BIU's already got the place covered. The doc's that Jiles gave her to are BIU agents, only he don't know it. As for the young lad here, he's only asleep. Jiles an' him had a frightful row about his mum last night and he locked him in a closet. When we got there today, he told me to give him a heroine powder to drink so's it would kill him and later we could dump the body and he'd be rid of him. But, Jiles, bein' the squeamish bugger that he is, couldn't watch me do it so him and the other blokes went on errand for a while, whilst I did my dirty work, so to speak. Well, I tell you lad, this little laddie here, he may be just a boy, but he is one hell of a scrapper, let me tell you ! Well, anyways, after I got hold of him and got him to listen to me, I told him who I was and that I had to put him to sleep for his own good. I was going to get him to BIU for protection later, but he kept askin' to get him to YOU! I gave him a huge dose of sleepin' powder and he drank it. The last thing he said before the lights went out was that if anything should happen, to tell Sam that he loved him with all his heart and always will. He's one brave little guy, yes sir, he is. I ain't askin' no questions lad, but you must mean the bloody world to him. I only came back to get him out while Jiles an the gang went to London ". I was looking through my tears, at Tad's sweet sleeping face then, wishing he'd look back at me and melt my soul with his beautiful eyes. Brandon and Mickey were also on the verge of tears and said nothing. "Here now lad, he'll be all right. Should sleep straight away till mornin'". I looked at Sledge and asked him what we do now. "Now, young mates, you put him in the back of my truck an' I'll get him to your house. You've got to keep him hidden though, cuz, 'ole Jiles thinks he's dead. If he gets wise, I'll be dead an' the whole bloomin' operation will be ruined. You see also, he's kidnapped one of our agents, and were very close to findin' him. Give us about two weeks, and we'll have this lot in His Majesty's deepest jails". Sledge looked at Brandon and Michael and told them that if they didn't keep quiet, he'd be back to get them. By the look on his face, they could tell without a doubt that he wasn't kidding, so the two of them swore not to tell a soul. Michael and I wrapped Tad back up in the blanket and carried him out to the truck, with Brandon going ahead and acting as lookout. I recall how the afternoon sun blinded me for a moment as we carried Tad out, so used to the dismal warehouse had my eyes become. Going back inside, we saw Sledge dump a huge rock that Michael's dad kept to prop the door open in the summer, into the crate and nail it shut. "That's so's when I come back here later tonight to dump the crate in the water, it'll sink right proper like". "Lord, you think of everything!", I said. "That's why I'm still alive laddie buck! Alright Sam, into the back with your mate". I hugged Mickey and Brandon good bye. "Thanks mates, I know we're good friends now", I told them. "Sam", said Brandon, "we're alot closer than just friends now mate. Take care of you lover and we'll pop round soon to help, alright?" "I hope so", I said. Then I was out the door and into the truck. "You two..GO HOME....NOW!", said Sledge as he cranked up his truck and climbed in. We were off. As we motored away from the docks for the short ride to my home, I couldn't quell the rage deep inside me. All I could think about was how, for the want of money, Witherspoon had destroyed, or almost destroyed the family of someone so precious as Tad. In his short life, he could never have hurt so much as an insect. Now to have his family, and more so, his childhood innocence, ripped away from him like this, one wonders in sadness, if he could ever continue to have a normal life again. Yes, I could love him with all my soul and heart, but there would always be that missing thread, that sweet, secure, sense of family, missing from his life. "Mr. Sledge, sir?" "Just Sledge, lad. What??" "Sir, you will see to it that that bastard gets what he deserves, won't you?" "Indeed, I will lad, I promise. But, mind you, you keep a low profile, hear me? When it's all done up, I'll let you know myself, here me?". "Yes sir. I promise". "Ah..,I believe you. Your a good lad, you are". "Sledge?" "Now what?" "Have you ever..., ever, kii...uh,..." "Have I ever killed a man?" There was a long pause as he looked at me in his rear mirror, with the cold specter of death lurking just behind his tired eyes. "Many, lad. Many". Sledge brought the truck as near to my house as he dared get, for fear of being seen. When he stopped, we were behind a small patch of trees that were close to the garage side of the house. From here I could make it through to the side garage door without being seen. We said our good-byes as I scooped Tad up in my arms and snuck through the tree patch, to the side door of the garage. I recall that carrying Tad was not an easy task. He was quite heavy despite his appearance, and I had to put him on the ground to open the door and then again to close it. Once inside the garage, I managed to put him in the back seat of the car. I looked at my pocket watch then and realized that I had little time to get changed for dinner. At any rate, Tad will be safe in the garage until I can figure a way to get him into my room. Oh, but how on earth am I going to explain this to Mother and Father?? Before I left him, I made sure that the blanket was snugly wrapped about his body so he wouldn't catch a chill. I then gave him a last look. How peaceful he looked. He was totally unaware of being carried from place to place. Totally unaware that he was now in the safety of his lovers arms. Bending my head down I lightly kissed his warm cheek and whispered in his ear that I loved him. I don't suppose that he heard, but I had to say it just in case. As I left the garage and tried to sneak into the back door to the house, I remembered that I had left my fishing gear hidden near the warehouse. Drat, now I'll have to retrieve it at some point. Good luck was with me as I made it all the way to my room without being seen. I shed my dirty clothes and washed my grubby face and hands that were covered in warehouse dust, and quickly put my suit back on. Here comes little Lord Fauntleroy again, I sighed. Going downstairs, I was immediately pounced apon by Annabelle. "Gracious master Samuel, I must be getting old. How on earth did you get into the house without nary a sound? I never even heard you". "I'm sorry Annabelle. I'll try to make more noise next time". "Now, you scalawag! Enough making fun of an old woman. Just get yourself into the parlor, and be quick about it! Father O'Connell has already arrived. Now off with you. SCAT!" "Yes ma'am". As I neared the parlor, I could hear Father and Mother having conversation with boring as toast, Father O'Connell. Alright Sam, I told myself, put on your absolute best poker face. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for what was to be an extremely boring evening. Somehow, I had to keep my mind from wandering away from the table and back to the garage. "Ah, yes. Here's Samuel now" said Father. "Good evening all. Good evening Father O'Connell". "Good evening Samuel. Your father tells me that you've been fishing, eh? Any luck?" "No sir, I'm afraid not". That was the most exciting part of the conversation. From that point on it was a frightful bore to say the least. All I did was listen to the good father as he prattled on and on, about this one and that one. You see, he was a frightful gossip. He never revealed any confessional type revelations, but always the trivial embarrassments. None the less, he was a deeply religious servant of the lord, and always tended to his congregation with love and courage. Later that evening, as we awaited our dessert, the conversation became quite interesting. Quite interesting indeed. "Well then young Samuel, tell me, I've heard it about that you've become quite friendly with the young Witherspoon boy". As I was eating a piece of bread at the time, it picked that moment to become lodged in my windpipe, nearly choking me to death. As I regained my composure, I stole a quick glance at father, who at that moment, looked as if he also were about to choke as well. "Why, yes sir. But if you'll forgive me sir, Thomas still carries his fathers name of Winslow". "Oh? Oh, yes, quite right dear boy, quite right! How stupid of me. Tell me, now that he's been sent to boarding school, how will he cope with his mother being sent to the institution? Oh..,and that awful man, er, ah, Witherspond". "Witherspoon, sir". "Eh?, Oh yes, yes, that's the chap. You know, I don't believe that he believes in God at all, no. At any rate, the only reason I know about the boy's mother, is that he caught me early this morning as I was on my way to the church, wanting to tell me why his wife won't be able to attend for a while. You see, having never been inside his own church, he confused me with his wife's minister, Reverend Saunders. Much to say, he was quite taken aback when I pointed out his mistake, but assured him that I would inform the reverend for him, and not to worry. Quite a nervous fellow indeed, yes, quite". My word, I couldn't believe how quickly Witherspoon was starting to cover his tracks. Thank goodness I was in the warehouse when they put poor Tad in the crate. It was fate. It had to be. I shudder to think what might have become of him. Well, at least Sledge was there and about, but at this point, I trusted very few when it came to Tad's welfare. You should have seen Fathers face. He became flushed with anger and didn't know what the devil was going on, or what I knew for that matter. But before he could say anything, I simply told Father O'Connell that Tad was a strong boy, and the doctors told him that all his mother needed was a good rest. "Is that all, then? Oh dear, I do hope the child is as strong as you say. To think, first his father and now his beloved mother. Oh, may the lord be with him. Do give him my prayers when next you speak with him, won't you?" "Oh, yes sir, I will indeed. And sir, don't worry, Thomas will be just fine sir. Just fine indeed". Yes, I thought, just fine if I have anything to do with it. The guilt at having left him to the devices of that evil bounder, was beginning to make it's presence felt in the deep pit of my stomach. Anger at myself and rage at the people that were to blame, all colliding head on in a mass of tangled confusion. Careful lad, don't let your guard down now. At that point, thank the lord, Father changed the topic of conversation, and the matter was quickly dropped. Well...,except for the sly, questioning looks, I received from Father. Thank goodness Father had the presence of mind, not to say anything. One other thing struck me as rather odd. Mother said nothing apon hearing the news just relayed by Father Blabberpuss, but every so often, I could swear that I was being stared at from her side of the table. Usually she'd be full of Graciouses, and My Goodnesses. This time, nothing. Maybe it was I that was suddenly paranoid. I was certainly SOMETHING, after all that's happened recently. But, somehow...., I've gotten those mother stares before and....,oh lord, I'm ever so tired, I do hope Tad is all right in the garage. The rest of the evening progressed rather quietly and finally, Father Blabberpuss took his leave, which couldn't have been sooner to my liking. Father and I showed him to the door and watched as he drove off in his horse and buggy. "Well young man, is there anything you'd like to discuss?" "Oh, Father, yes. A great deal to discuss. But please, not here, mother may hear. Come out to the garage, I've something interesting to show you". "The garage? At this time of the night?" It was then that Father saw the urgency in my eyes and relented. "Oh, very well. I'll tell mother that we're going for a walk and cigar". We came apon mother, sitting in the parlor, waiting for us. But there was something terribly wrong. This was not good. I knew it from the look in her face, and the way her arms were crossed. "My dear, with your permission, Samuel and I are taking a stroll and cigar". We were almost out the door, but as bad luck would have it..... "JUST ONE MOMENT, THE BOTH OF YOU!" Father and I both froze in our tracks. Blast! This was not good. Not at all good.