Date: Sat, 26 Jan 2019 18:08:01 +0000 (UTC)
From: D J <dj92570j@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Grassy Hill part 6

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Sahypo
The Grassy Hill
Part 6
Copyright 2018
By Sahypo

The week seemed to crawl for Simon, his excitement almost
uncontainable. What would the cabin be like? Would he and Gregory like each
other? Would coach let him shoot guns and go fishing? Was the river safe to
swim in?

All these thoughts were swirling through his head most of his waking hours,
and also making it hard for Simon to settle down enough to sleep at
night. Things finally caught up with him Thursday night, and he went to bed
soon after he and Bobby finished the evening meal.  Bobby had already given
Simon his blessing to go on the trip this weekend, and he was a bit
concerned when Simon asked him if he could be excused from helping with the
dishes.

"Are you sick or something?" he asked.

"No...Just super tired. Not getting any sleep lately." Simon replied.

Bobby grinned at Simon. "You better get some sleep tonight so you're not
dead this weekend.  Go ahead. I'll get this little bit done here.  Are you
packed?"

"Yup, just have to put my toothbrush in the bag before I go. Good night"

"You too, Simon."  Bobby took a swig of beer and turned back to the sink.
"I'll see you in the morning before you leave."

Bobby finished the housework and dishes and carried his beer over to the
couch and turned the TV on. He sat down with the mail and went through it,
the sounds of snoring coming down the hall. Bobby gave up interest in the
evening news and turned the TV and lights off. He checked the lock on the
front door and made his way to his room and bed.

In the morning, Simon was a bit more rested, and climbed out of bed and
made his way to the bathroom. His three inches of circumcised morning wood
led the way as he stepped up to the toilet and slipped his briefs
down. After waiting a few minutes for the first few drops to issue, the
flow gained force as his erection subsided. He looked at his image in the
mirror, his hair disheveled, made a face and said "Yikes!" softly as he
tucked his boyhood back in his briefs and reached for a hairbrush. He did
the best he could with the hair for a minute or two, before brushing his
teeth. He bolted out of the bathroom to get dressed in the clothes he had
laid out yesterday.  He threw the toothbrush into his bug-out bag and
zipped it shut.  He would have just enough time to pour a bowl of cereal
before the bus got there. Bobby stepped down the hallway just as Simon was
putting the milk away.

"Just leave it out, I'll get it, Simon." Bobby said as he walked into the
kitchen and ruffled Simon's hair.

"Morning, glory." Bobby joked.

"Hi" Simon replied. "I gotta run."

"I know...be good and have a good time...I'll see you Monday after
practice." Bobby said. "Thank Coach for letting you go with them, too."

"I will...for sure." Simon replied. He slapped a quick hug on Bobby, much
to the older man's surprise. The boy had never hugged his uncle before.

Bobby didn't say anything. He was too taken aback to think of anything to
say, so he just gave Simon a good squeeze in return. He looked in Simon's
eyes, but Simon just gave Bobby a slight smile as he broke the embrace and
grabbed his gym bag on the way out the door.

Friday was the longest day Simon had ever lived through in his short
eleven-year tenure on the planet. He was certain that the Jurassic period
had been shorter than this day, so far. After practice, he showered
quickly, leaving his hair wet and putting his shorts and shoes on over a
still damp body.

Coach chuckled at Simon when he showed up at Coach's door while the other
boys left the locker room.

"You do have enough time to actually get dressed if you want.  I still have
to lock up and everything" Coach teased. "Go on, I'm not going to leave
without you." He said, making a shooing motion at Simon.

The boy grinned hugely and ran back to his locker.  Coached grabbed his
keys and began his rounds of doors to lock while Simon dressed.

Coach chuckled to himself thinking about what had happened over the last
few weeks, and how his assessment of Simon had been accurate; he was a
lonely kid who had been emotionally abandoned and wanted to be noticed and
accepted. He had picked a disastrous way to call attention to himself, but
he was fortunate that Robby wasn't interested in keeping enemies and
holding grudges.

Coach had placed Simon's name on a list of students that were considered
at-risk, due to behavior or academic issues, and his other teachers would
give input as to how Simon was doing. So far, his grades had been improving
and he seemed to be happier and actually part of what was going on, instead
of lurking in the corner the way he did in the past.

Once done, he swung back to the office and locked the door. He found Simon
in the locker room dressed and waiting.

"Shall we?" he asked, as Simon hopped up off the bench, eager to go.

 They walked out the side gymnasium doors and Coach checked that they were
locked for the weekend and walked out to the parking lot with Simon in
tow. Simon barely touched the ground as he walked, his excitement building
with every step.  Simon walked up the passenger side of Coach's truck and
put his bag in the bed, before opening the door. Coach had cleared the
floor and seats of extraneous objects, but the dashboard of the truck was
still three inches deep in papers, small boxes of hardware, tools, shotgun
shells and water bottles. There were a dozen sheets of what looked like
plywood in the bed of the truck.

Coach twisted the key and the truck roared to life.

"We'll swing by the house, pick up Gregory and the food and a few other
things, and head on out...okay?"

"Sounds good...Um, Gregory's your son, Coach?"

"Not biologically, but I am his dad and he is my son for all intents and
purposes."

"So, like why is he living with you?"

Coach paused for a moment. "He was ...It's a long story that had a happy
ending, Simon."

Simon looked at coach.  "Is...Is it kinda like why I live with Bobby?"

Coach nodded.  "You have things in common with him in some ways, Simon."

Simon turned to the window to watch the scenery pass by. Several minutes
later, Coach pulled into a single lane driveway that ran past a modest
1940's bungalow with a small garage in the back yard. Coach pulled up
almost until the truck touched the garage door, shut the vehicle off and
got out.

"Mi casa es su casa" he said as Simon got out and looked around.

Almost as if on cue, the back door of the house opened, and a tall,
slightly built boy appeared, lugging a box loaded with clothes, towels,
dishes, toilet paper and various other sundries. He was obviously lifting a
heavy load from the look of exertion on his face and the strain on his arm
muscles. He wore a tee shirt and cutoff shorts with huaraches on his feet.

The boy had very pale skin and jet-black shoulder length hair. When he
looked up and noticed Simon, his eyes were the purest blue, and reminded
Simon of porcelain table ware he had seen in Chinese restaurants.

He carefully made his way down the steps as Coach lowered the tailgate on
the truck.

"You're Simon, right?" he asked.

Simon nodded and replied "Happy to meet you, Gregory," offering his hand,
which Gregory accepted and shook. A wide grin spread over Gregory's face,
and Simon felt immediately at ease.

"Me too! Wanna help me with this stuff?" Gregory asked.

"Um sure..." Simon replied.

"Cool...All the boxes in the kitchen have to go." Gregory said as he set
the box down on the tailgate. "We can put everything here and then arrange
it."

Simon followed Gregory back up the porch steps and into the kitchen, where
four cardboard boxes were stacked with more food, batteries, electrical
supplies and first aid items. A large cooler contained food on ice, and it
took both boys to get it out to the truck.

Outside, coach was loading spools of wire, cordless drills and spare
batteries, and a large box into the truck bed. He arranged most of his
items toward the front of the truck, leaving the back area near the
tailgate free for the boys to put the provisions.

Gregory and Simon toted the boxes from the kitchen out to the truck, and
when they finished those trips, they went out to see what Coach was doing.

"It's cool to have somebody to help load the truck." Gregory observed to
Coach.

"Just don't work Simon to death his first time out.... He's a newbie,
remember." Coach replied with a smile.

Gregory grinned and poked Simon on the shoulder. "Come on, we got stuff in
the garage to take too."

Simon followed the grinning boy into the side door of the garage, and
Gregory picked out several fishing rods and handed one to Simon.

"Do you fish?"

`Um, no...I have never gone." Simon admitted.

"We'll just have to fix that, then...that's a great rod to learn
on...you'll like it."

Gregory gave Simon the impression that he was older, which he wasn't, but
had the confidence of a person who had done many things and was used to
assuming the role of a leader.

"So, like, um, what grade are you in?" Simon asked.

"Fourth...you?"

"Fifth....You're ten, right?"

"Uh-huh...I'm eleven in two weeks." Gregory admitted. "You?"

"Twelve in three months...You don't go to my school, do you?" Simon
wondered.

Gregory shook his head.  He was enrolled at a charter magnet school for
gifted children, but he didn't feel up to explaining that, fearing that
Simon might misunderstand and think that he went to "special education." In
any event, his classes were taught at sixth and seventh grade levels,
although he was in the fourth grade chronologically.  Students at Gregory's
school were clustered according to ability, not age. The boy who sat next
to Gregory in their pod, as it was called, was a very small
thirteen-year-old who had been bullied at his old school. Legally blind,
the boy wore terribly thick glasses that left welts on his nose from the
weight, and most of the time, he put his glasses in his pocket and listened
with his eyes closed. Gregory once offered to read the boy's test to him
and write the answers down that the boy gave. This worked well enough that
the instructors gave their blessing to the arrangement.  Gregory's mother
had worked tirelessly with the school district to get Gregory placed in
this program and his slot opened up about the time she passed away. The
change of schools, and the challenging curricula helped him get through his
grief by keeping him busy.

"I think it's in a different district or something." He knew that wasn't
true, but it satisfied Simon for the time being.

"Do you like sports and stuff?" Simon asked.

Gregory shook his head. "Um, no, not really...you?"

"I went out for track with your dad...Sorry, I mean, with Coach."

"It's cool. He's the only dad I ever had.... Hey, that rhymes!" Gregory
giggled, Simon smiled and relaxed a bit. "He says you're one of his
runners...Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I do...it's pretty cool."  Simon replied as he followed Gregory out
to the truck to load the rods.

Gregory went back to the garage and brought a large flat plastic case with
him and a piece of plastic drain pipe about 4 inches in diameter and two
feet long, capped at both ends.

Gregory grinned as a look of curiosity spread over Simon's face. The
younger boy uncapped the tube and showed Simon about a dozen fletched arrow
ends in holes in a block of black foam glued inside the tube.

"Every practiced archery?"

Simon shook his head.

"We'll do some of that this weekend then." Gregory said as he capped up his
home-made quiver, and put the bow case in the truck.



Coach stepped out on the back porch carrying two long gun cases and asked
"You know where the range bag is, little buddy?"

"Yes, Sir...I'll go get it."

"Good boy...Grab that ammo next to it, will you?"

"No problem." Gregory replied. "Come on" he said to Simon as the boys went
in the house.  Coach's range bag had several handguns, extra magazines,
safety range glasses and hearing protectors inside. Gregory grabbed the
handles of the range bag and a box of shotgun shells and turned to go back
to the truck. Simon picked up the shopping bag with the other boxes of
ammunition in it, and followed Gregory.

"Ever been shooting?" Gregory wondered.

Simon shook his head. "Huh-uh...but I want to."

Gregory grinned, showing gaps in his smile from missing baby teeth.  They
stepped out of the house with their burdens and loaded them into the truck
as Coach fished his keys out.

"I think we have everything...Do you have what you wanted to take,
Gregory?"

"Pretty sure I do, yes." Gregory replied as he went back into the
house. Coach looked to Simon and said

"Make a pit stop now if you have to...It's about two hours ride."

Simon nodded and turned to go in the house. He heard sounds from the
bathroom and stopped in the kitchen to wait for Gregory to finish. The
younger boy hadn't bothered to close the door, and met Simon in the kitchen
as he began to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

"Just pull the door closed when you come out, Simon." He said as walked out
of the house.

Simon emerged from the house a minute later, pulled the door shut and
walked around the truck where Gregory was sliding over to the middle
seat. He slipped the huaraches off and threw them up on the dash with all
the other junk, and put one foot on either side of the stick shift. He
pulled the seatbelt over himself and clicked it in, before Simon sat down
and pulled his belt on.

Coach climbed in, started the truck and put his belt on.

"Away we go like a fart in a hurricane!" he said as he stepped on the
clutch pedal, and tickled Gregory on the knee, causing the boy to
giggle. Gregory shifted the transmission into reverse, and Coach backed out
of the driveway into the street and stopped.  Gregory found first gear and
then second as the truck left their neighborhood. This mechanical duet
continued for the entire trip each time a shift was necessary. It was
obvious to Simon that this arrangement had been in place quite some time.
The road took them east, away from the central rolling prairie, and into
flatter terrain covered by pine forest. Signs on the road gave directions
to the state park entrances to campgrounds on the shores of a huge
lake. Coach continued until they had passed the lake, and turned off the
highway onto a secondary road about ten miles further. They passed through
a tiny hamlet on a bend in the road that was little more than a gas
station, restaurant and a general store, with a few antique mobile homes
scattered around.  Two miles past the settlement, Coach turned into a
gravel driveway and stopped.  He reached into the ashtray and pulled out a
key fob with a single Master key on it.

"Simon, would you unlock the gate, please?" Coach said, passing the key to
the boy.

Simon took the key and got out of the truck and walked over to a gatepost
on the right side of the truck and found the lock securing a heavy loop of
chain securing a galvanized steel farm gate. He put the key in the lock and
released it from the chain, which fell back to where it was stapled on the
gatepost. Simon pushed the gate open, and stood to the side as Coach eased
the truck forward past the gate.

"Can you close the gate, Simon?" Coach called out.

Simon nudged the gate closed again and secured the chain and lock.

He walked back to the truck and got in, and gave Gregory the key. He
slipped it back into the ashtray as they rode through a heavy pine forest.

"Is this yours, Coach?" Simon gasped looking up at the trees on both sides
of the narrow dirt road.

"Yup...we are here, Simon."

"How much land do you have?"

"There's sixty acres here."

"Wow.... that's a lot, right?"

"You can explore the whole thing if you like.  Just remember not to cross
any fence you come to, or you will get lost. If you just follow the fence,
you will get back to the cabin, okay? If you follow the fence to the gate
we just went through, you can follow the road back to the cabin too."

"Okay" Simon replied, as he took in the scenery and smells of the woods
they were driving through.

"Do you have neighbors out here?"

"Only one, and he's a mile from us."

Another hundred yards down the road, the trees began to part into a
clearing and as the truck went around a bend in the road, the cabin came
into view. It was a simple A-frame structure two stories tall, built on a
pier and beam foundation with telephone pole piers. A small porch fronted
the cabin, with two steps between the ground and the floor level of the
cabin. The upper level of the cabin was Gregory's area, while coach had a
room downstairs, with a living area, and a small kitchen. A large pantry
and storage area completed the lower level. On one side of the A-frame,
Coach and Gregory had begun an addition. This would house more living space
and an inside bathroom, once a septic system was put in. The walls had been
framed, but there was no sheeting or siding up yet. The roof had been
sheeted in plywood, but not yet shingled. Two layers of heavy clear
construction plastic kept the elements out, and allowed them to work in the
dry on the weekends that they had been out on the property when it had
rained.

A small barn stood behind the cabin, and Simon could see the river a
hundred yards past the cabin.

"Wow, is that the river?" Simon asked excitedly.

"It is, yes." Coach replied. "Can you swim?"

"Some, I had some lessons at the Y."

"Gregory has to be with you at all times at the river, Simon, hear me?"

"Yes, Sir...But what does Gregory do when its just him out here?" Simon
asked.

"He has to be with me then....We never swim alone. It's our safety rule out
here."

"So, where does the river go?" Simon wondered.

"It ends up at the lake we passed, then two smaller streams come out on the
south end of the lake."

They got out of the truck and Coach walked up to the cabin to unlock the
place and open up.

Gregory went around the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate and
began pulling boxes of food and kitchen supplies to the edge. Simon joined
him and picked up a box and headed for the cabin. The tile cabin floor was
covered with a huge Persian rug. A Chinese knock-off, Coach had found it at
a flea market. There was a couch in the living area covered with an
exquisite Navajo blanket, and the rest of the room was decorated with
antique lamps and an octagon school-house clock that must have been a
hundred years old. The difference was that these lamps often provided the
light in this off-grid cabin.  Coach and Gregory had installed an inverter
and solar panel on the south facing side of the A-frame roof. A plastic tub
with four car batteries inside provided more electricity for the low
voltage lights in the cabin than they could use in a typical weekend. A
large table in the kitchen provided an area to land the boxes and Coach
began stocking the propane gas refrigerator and pantry as the boys brought
in the boxes and the cooler. Coach transferred the food from the cooler to
the refrigerator, and had the boys return the cooler to the truck. They
then brought the archery equipment and range bag and rifle cases in from
the truck.  By the time they finished unloading what they needed, it was
almost seven o'clock and the boys had worked up a sweat. Coach suggested
Gregory show Simon around before it got dark, and reached a set of keys off
a hook on the wall. He gave the keys to Gregory and followed the boys out
the door. He got in the truck as Simon and Gregory headed to the
out-buildings behind the cabin. Coached moved the truck around the cabin
and backed it up to the addition, so he could unload the supplies and
building materials before the dew fell. Rain wasn't expected but that
didn't mean a pop-up shower was impossible.

Gregory unlocked the doors on the barn and put the keys back in his
pocket. When he swung them open, Simon saw that the barn contained an old
tractor, with a front-end loader bucket and a rotary mower attached to the
rear.  Next to the tractor, a post hole auger hung from the rafters on
adjustable cargo straps.

"What is that thing, and why does it hang there?" Simon asked.

"We dig potties with it...and it's easier to mount and take off like that."

"It goes on the tractor?"

"Yeah...look here" Gregory said as he walked behind the antique Ford. "See
these links the mower is attached to?"

"Uh-huh."

"The post-hole digger goes on the same way."

"So, do you drive it?" Simon wondered

"Sure, and the truck too."

Off to the side of the barn was a chain saw, a weed-eater and a
generator. Coach had run an exhaust pipe through a hole in the metal siding
of the barn, and run wires under the ground to the cabin for the
power. Several gas cans were lined up near the doorway.

Gregory removed the cap on the fuel tank and looked inside to check the
fuel level, put it back on then turned toward the cabin and called out

"Hey Coach, do you need power?"

"Yes, Please, go ahead." Coach replied.

Gregory unscrewed the oil filler cap on the engine and pulled out the
dipstick attached to it so he could inspect the oil level in the crankcase.

He showed the stick to Simon and said "It's good...see?"

Simon nodded and watched as Gregory put the cap back on. He set the
controls on the generator to start it, and hit the switch. The machine
began to crank and caught quickly on the choke. It spluttered and stumbled,
then began to smooth out and accelerate to rated speed as Gregory expertly
nudged the choke open.  He waited a few seconds to make sure the start was
good, then flipped another switch. Simon saw some lights in the addition
come on.

Gregory motioned for Simon to follow him.  They walked over to a tall,
square wooden structure about four feet wide and deep, and six feet tall,
covered with a shingle roof that matched the cabin. It was perched on four
concrete blocks. Gregory opened the door and Simon could see a bench inside
with a toilet seat bolted to it. A hole was cut in the bench.

Simon had never used an outhouse in his life, but the purpose was obvious.

"Welcome to our sauna...If you have to come out here at night, bring a
light with you so can check for spiders, scorpions and snakes." Gregory
warned. "Smack around the bench with your fist before you sit down."

"Seriously?" Simon asked.

"I kid you not!" Gregory replied, and the boys giggled.

Simon smiled. "Cool! I just knew this was gonna be an adventure!" he
replied. Gregory broke into a wide grin.

"Really? I was kinda hoping you would say something like that." Gregory
admitted.

"I wanna see snakes and stuff."  Simon replied.

"Hey, let's go see if the fish will bite." Gregory said as he closed the
outhouse door, and headed for the truck. "You grab the rods, and I'll get
the worms."

Coach had picked up a container of worms at the hardware store yesterday
and Gregory found them in the refrigerator. He grabbed two bottles of water
on the way out of the cabin and met Simon at the front porch. He took one
of the fishing rods from Simon and handed him a bottle of water.

"Ready?" Simon nodded. "Coach, we're going to see if the fish are biting."
Gregory called out.

"Okay...how about a hot dog roast when you get back?" Coach replied.

"Yeah!" Simon crowed.

"Cool" Gregory agreed.

"Don't hook each other, guys." Coach teased as the boys walked off toward
the river. Grass covered ground ended abruptly about 50 feet from the
water, and the boys stepped down onto a gravel bar. The river curved in an
arc in front of them, making a gentle right hand turn as it passed through
the property. It flowed slowly, and averaged about thirty to forty feet
wide, and about seven feet deep at the outer bank of the curve, which was
lined with trees. The boys could see the gravel bottom for about four to
six feet before the water became too murky to make out the bottom.

Gregory slipped out of his huaraches and laid the worms, pole and water
bottle down on the gravel bar and stepped into the water. Wading in up to
his knees, he turned back to look at Simon.

"Ah, this is great. Wanna try it?"

Simon was slipping his sneakers off, and standing in his socks.

"Sure." He said as he took his socks off.  He was wearing straight-leg blue
jeans, and quickly discovered that he wouldn't be able to roll the pants
legs up very far, because they became too tight.

"Uh..."

Gregory turned and looked at Simon, then waded back out of the water.  He
unsnapped his shorts and slid them down, revealing a pair of Fruit of the
Loom briefs.

"Um, why did you do that? You're wearing shorts..."

"So you won't feel like a dork in your underwear and stuff.... coming?"
Gregory said with a huge grin as he waded back into the river into thigh
deep water.

Gregory seemed somewhat unusual to Simon, possessing a self-assuredness and
confidence that Simon lacked. He was doing everything he could to include
Simon, and make him feel welcome. Simon did not get the feeling that
Gregory had ulterior motives, and decided to trust his host.

Simon sighed, unsnapped and lowered his zipper, and took his jeans off.  He
waded out next to Gregory, who had been looking down into the water. "This
is nice..." Suddenly, he jumped in surprise. "Hey, what the...!!" he
exclaimed as Gregory began to laugh.

"What the hell is that....something's biting me!" Simon exclaimed, reacting
to the small nibbling sensations on his feet and legs.

"It's cool...it's just the minnows checking out how you taste and stuff."
Gregory replied. "They can't hurt you, it just feels weird."

"Dude! That freaked me out for a second!  Um, are they doing it to you
too?" Simon asked, calming down a little.

"Yeah.... stand really still and look down and you can see `em." Gregory
said quietly.

Simon did as Gregory suggested, and indeed, he could see a large group of
tiny inch-long fish crowding Gregory's legs, and his own. He could feel the
little fish bump into him, and scurry off, being replaced by countless
others that approached, hesitated, then hit and fled.  If the boys as much
as blinked, the tiny entourage would disappear in a flash, and slowly
return, wary of any movement.

"What are they doing, Gregory?" Simon asked, now fascinated

"Eating your dead skin cells. We're covered in them, you know." They stood
there for a few minutes watching the minnows until Gregory asked Simon if
he wanted to bait a hook.

"Sure, but you gotta show me."  Simon replied. They waded out of the water
and Gregory took a long drink out of his bottle, and picked up the
container of worms. It looked like the styrofoam cup that cole slaw came
in. He opened the lid and fished through the potting soil the worms were
packed in until he found one.

"Grab that rod, Simon, and can you take the hook loose?" Simon picked up
the fishing rod and took the hook out of the line guide for Gregory. The
younger boy took the hook from Simon's fingers and began to thread the worm
onto it as Simon watched closely.

"Just like that...now you try it.  Get you a worm out."

Simon reached down for the worms and opened the lid, not sure if the worms
were going to jump out at him. He was not expecting to see nothing in the
cup but black dirt...

"Root around with your finger until you see one, then grab it." Gregory
said. Simon found a worm and pulled it out of the container, and baited his
hook as Gregory had shown him.

A red and white plastic float was attached to each line, and Gregory
checked to make sure they were at the right distance from the hooks and
handed one of the rods to Simon.

"Do you know how to cast?"

"Umm...no."

"Watch what I do." Gregory said. "See this button on the back of the reel?"
as he held the reel out so Simon could see what he was doing.

"Push that in, hold it and swing the rod. When the rod points where you
want the hook to go, let off the button...like this."

Gregory cast the baited hook twenty feet out into the river, and the bobber
began to float downstream. Gregory cranked the reel about two turns on the
crank to engage the reel and looked over at Simon.

"You try it now."

Simon pushed the button on his reel and held it, swung the rod toward the
river and let the button go. His hook made it about half the distance
Gregory's did, and Gregory nodded and smiled. "Not bad for the newbie!"
Simon smiled as his line began to go downriver slowly.

He remembered to turn the crank to stop the line paying out, and turned to
look at Gregory.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Wait until something hits the bait and your bobber goes under."  Gregory
said as he sat down on the gravel bar.

"Can you hold this?... I'm gonna put my pants back on." Simon said, handing
his rod to Gregory. Gregory dug two holes in the gravel and buried the
handles of the rods, freeing his hands to take a drink from his
bottle. Simon threw his shoes down near Gregory, and sat on the gravel. He
wiped his feet off and put his socks back on, then his shoes. Gregory stood
up and put his shorts back on after dusting gravel and a bit of sand out of
his briefs.

"Can I ask you something?" Simon asked.

"I suppose, sure."

"How did you end up living with Coach?"

"Mom and I lived next door to Coach at the old apartments where we used to
live.  Mom would have these spells where she couldn't move or walk and
stuff...Coach used to keep me sometimes and make sure I got to school and
stuff and see that mom was okay....I didn't know what was going on too
much, but she knew what it was. She told Coach she wanted him to take me
when it was time. She brought him these papers and a lady came to our house
to put these stamps and stuff on them to make it official and stuff. Mom
got worse and they took her to this place where people go to die...and she
did....a year ago."

"I, um... I'm sorry... I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, Simon ... really.  I had a lot of time to say goodbye and get
used to it."

"What caused those spells and stuff she was having?

"Some type of Multiple Sclerosis." Gregory said, almost in a whisper as he
stared across the river.  Simon put a hand on Gregory's shoulder.

"What about your dad?" Simon asked.

Gregory shook his head. "Mom had a lot of boyfriends before she got sick."

"Oh." Simon replied, squeezing Gregory's shoulder.

Coach knew who Gregory's father was, or at least, he knew the name that was
printed on Gregory's birth certificate. There had been no involvement in
their lives once she knew she was pregnant and tried to sue him for
paternity. Coach had helped her put her affairs in order, and had asked her
to apply for termination of parental rights against Gregory's father when
they had set up Coach's guardianship of Gregory. Gregory had come to Coach
distraught and upset just before his mother passed away in hospice. He was
terrified that once she died, his father would come back and take him away.

Coach had tried to reason with Gregory, telling him that this was pretty
unlikely, but Gregory had been so adamant that Coach asked him to write a
letter in his own words, explaining how he felt. Coach went to family court
with Gregory's mother to make the case for the order, and had let the judge
read Gregory's letter.

 The judge heard that there had been no contact from Gregory's father for
over seven years, and after reading Gregory's letter, she issued the order
without comment in a hearing that lasted less than five minutes.

"Did Coach adopt you after she died?"

"Um, uh, we never talked about that." Gregory said, looking down river.

"Sorry if I'm being nosy and stuff."

Gregory shook his head. "No ... It's cool."

There was a long silence between the boys as Simon considered what Gregory
told him. After a few minutes and a false alarm with Simon's fishing rod
falling over, Gregory broke the silence.

"Coach says you live with your uncle?" Gregory asked.

"Yeah." Simon nodded, looking down at the gravel.

"Something happened to your family, too?"

Simon nodded. "I'm doing life without parents."

Gregory looked at Simon with a blank expression, not comprehending Simon's
remark.

"When somebody gets life in prison without parole.... Everyone around them
does too." Simon explained.

"My God, that happened to your folks?  Both of them?" Gregory asked, and
Simon nodded.

"I'll be 36 when my mom gets out...and dad..." Simon shook his head. "So,
now I live with my uncle." Simon said softly.

"Sheezus...what did they do?" Gregory wondered.

"Cooking meth...tons of it." Simon replied.  "You're the only other person
besides Coach that knows, Gregory."

Gregory looked down river at the bobbers and processed what Simon had just
told him.

"Your secret is safe with me." Gregory replied. "I don't know anyone you
do, so who would I tell?"

"The kids at my old school didn't understand. We had to move."

Gregory could tell that Simon had probably endured a lot of abuse from his
former classmates and was beginning to understand what Coach had told him
of Simon.

"He needs a good friend or two and some time away from his problems at
home." Coach said.

Gregory looked over at Simon, who was looking down into his hands.

"Where from?" Gregory asked gently.

"Oklahoma...I like it better here. No tornadoes and it doesn't get too
cold."

"Well, we do get twisters here too, but I only saw snow once in my life for
a few minutes."

"You live here your whole life?" Simon asked.

Gregory nodded. "Yup.... right here. Coach has taken me on a few trips and
stuff."

"Ever been on a airplane?"

"Nope." Gregory replied.

"Me neither." Simon said.

Gregory noticed the lowering sun and suggested that they go back to the
cabin before the mosquitoes came out. Simon looked over at Gregory's pale
white legs and feet and imagined hordes of the blood suckers watching in
the trees, biding their time...

Gregory stood up and slipped into his huaraches. He gave Simon the worms,
and took the water bottles and his pole, and began to walk back across the
gravel bar. They climbed the small bank at the edge of the lawn and saw
Coach piling up firewood and wood scraps on a small fire just taking hold.

"Get any bites?" he asked the boys as they approached.

"Not a one...Probably need to be there early in the morning." Gregory
replied.

"What kind of fish are in there, anyway?" Simon wondered.

"We've eaten catfish and bluegill we caught here." Coach replied.

"I'm gonna go put long pants on before we roast wienies." Gregory announced
as he headed toward the barn. The generator was silent now, as Coach had
finished drilling holes in the wall studs of the addition.

 "Come on, Simon... Let's put this stuff up."

The boys laid the poles up against the wall inside the barn, and walked
back to the cabin.

"The worms go in the fridge, Simon." Gregory said as he put the empty water
bottles in a trash bag. He climbed the steps to the loft.  He threw himself
on the huge bed and rolled over to the far side, where a repurposed coffee
table held stacks of pants, underwear, socks and tee shirts. He slipped the
shorts back off and slid his briefs down as Simon came up the stairway and
caught sight of Gregory clad only in a tee shirt.  Gregory didn't notice
Simon frozen in mid step until he heard a slight gasp and looked over.

Simon's eyes were riveted on Gregory's midsection as the boy was picking
out clothes to put on. He was shocked to see a small patch of black pubic
hair above a thin flaccid four-inch-long uncircumcised penis. Gregory's
hood didn't completely cover the end of his endowment, and the light
tannish hue of his maleness was the deepest pigmentation of any skin on his
body. His pubescent testicles, no longer those of a small child but not yet
the size of a man's, hung in a hairless scrotum.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I uh..." Simon spluttered as he turned crimson in
embarrassment, and ducked back down the steps. Gregory continued to calmly
slip a pair of socks on his feet and pulled on a pair of jogging pants
without underwear and tied the cord.

Gregory giggled at Simon's reaction. "It's safe to come up now, Simon."

"I didn't m-mean to stare at you, sorry." Simon said as he climbed the
steps.

"Sorry if I shocked you."  Gregory replied quietly

"Oh...um, no...I'm used to naked people, after track practice and stuff
...It's um...." Simon stumbled.

"Have you seen a lot of...you know, naked guys?" Gregory wondered.

"Just my track team...that's six... and my dad maybe once or twice.  What
about you?"

"Huh-uh" Gregory shook his head.

"Not even, like at your school?"

"Nope. We don't have sports and stuff." Gregory paused, considering his
next words. "Sometimes, uh ... never mind."

"Sometimes what?" Simon wondered.

"Nah, forget it."

"Forget what? ... look I don't know anyone you do, so who would I tell?"
Simon asked, turning Gregory's logic back at him.

Gregory looked at Simon for a minute before going on.

"Sometimes when it's really hot out here ... I like to go without clothes
on .... You probably think that's totally weird."

"No, ... I don't, actually.  Could we ... do that?" Simon blurted out, not
thinking.  "Um, I mean...if you don't...if that's not too weird and
stuff...you know."

Gregory lay on the huge bed and rolled over to Simon's side and stood up.

"Simon...This is your weekend at the woods ...we can do whatever you want."

While he found the conversation interesting, Gregory actually was getting
hungry, and was eager to table the discussion for the time being. He was
pretty sure it would come up again later.

Simon was now curious if what he had briefly witnessed was true; could this
child be embarking on his path to manhood at this tender age?

"Come on, I'm starving to death here!" Gregory said as he led Simon down
the stairs. Once outside, Coach asked Gregory to find the small grille in
the garage and bring it and a couple of bricks to the fire.

Gregory suggested that Simon might help him carry bricks, and the boys
walked over to the barn, while coach went in the cabin to find the hot
dogs, buns and condiments. Gregory was setting up the bricks at the edge of
the little fire to support the grille, and Coach came out with the food
items on a tray, carrying a folding camp stool.

"Why don't you boys bring the other camp stools over?" Coach suggested. The
boys returned from the cabin with three stools, leaving one to set the food
tray on.

Coach put six hot dogs on the grille which he had placed on the bricks, the
fire gently lapping through the grille as the sun set.  They sat around the
fire, the orange glow lighting their faces.

"How's your dinner in the wilderness, Simon?"  Coach asked.

"Great! I never cooked hot dogs on a fire before...this is cool.  Um,
Coach?"

"Yes."

"Thanks for letting me come out here with you guys and stuff.  This is my
first time staying over at a friend's house." Simon said.

Gregory looked at Simon and smiled.

Coach replied "You're most welcome, Simon, and we're both glad you came. I
want you to have a good time with us."

They made their hot dogs the way they each liked them, and ended up cooking
the whole package before they were full. They moved the grill off the dying
fire and burned the little bit of trash left over before Coach brought the
tray back to the cabin and called the boys into the addition.

"So, what's the plan, Coach?"  Gregory asked.

"Well, I think we should run the wiring in the walls and put the outlets in
while its dark, so we can put the sheeting on tomorrow in daylight and get
the walls closed out this weekend."

The cabin was wired for electricity, as the outlets in the A-frame were
either on the solar system, or able to be tied into the generator when it
was running. Coach had drilled holes in the wall studs earlier while the
boys were at the river, and now all they had to do was fish the wire
through the holes and wire up the wall outlets. Coach and Gregory had
attached outlet boxes on the studs the last time they were at the cabin,
and they tried to get as much done on each trip as they could. At the
moment, a pair of Coleman propane lanterns were lighting the addition,
providing plenty of light to work.

Coach went out to the truck, and came back inside with a box of 12-gauge
wire, and a bulk pack of outlets.  He gave Gregory a utility knife and the
box of outlets. He pulled the end of the wire out of a hole in the center
of the box of wire, and threaded it into one of the outlet boxes. Snaking
the wire through the holes in the wooden studs, Coach made his way to the
circuit breaker panel in the A-frame, and left a couple of feet of slack to
allow connection. He went back to the outlet box in the wall and cut the
wire about six inches past the box.

"You're up, Sparky!" he said to Gregory, as he skipped the next outlet box,
and fed another run of wire into the third one around the room and made his
way back to the one Gregory was attending to. Gregory had begun to split
the cable insulation with the utility knife, exposing one black, one white
and a bare copper wire in the cable. Expertly cutting the sheath, he then
stripped the black and white wire insulation from the wire ends. The boy
opened the box of outlet receptacles, and rooted through Coach's tool belt
until he found a screwdriver.

By this time, Coach had threaded the second cable to Gregory's box, and
pushed the end into it the same way he had the first wire. Gregory stripped
the second cable as he had the first one, and began putting the wires on
the receptacle.

"Um, how do you know which one goes where?" Simon asked, watching Gregory
intently.

"Okay, you see this brass colored screw on this side?"

"Uh-huh."

"And the silver ones on this side?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the black wires go on the brass side, and the white ones go on the
silver screws" Gregory explained as he twisted the two bare copper wires
together a few turns. He cut one of the bare ends off and wrapped the other
one around a screw. "And the bare wire goes on this green screw on the
bottom.  Nothin' to it... The hard part is getting all the wires back in
the box."

"Where'd you learn all that?" Simon asked, genuinely impressed.

"Coach is teaching me stuff like that...I can do plumbing too, even though
we ain't got water."

 In the future, Coach had planned to pump river water to the cabin, to
allow the eventual toilet installation to flush. There would be a well
drilled for potable water at some point, but for now they drank bottled
water they hauled in.  A while back, Coach found some copper pipe scraps
and a few fittings in his collection of odds and ends, and had shown
Gregory how to sweat solder plumbing together with a propane torch. The boy
mastered the technique almost instantly, but came close to making the
mistake of touching the hot metal before it cooled. Coach smiled and said
that he would only do that once!

Gregory had helped Coach frame the addition, holding boards in position and
manning the other end of the tape measure when needed. He had been tasked
with marking boards to dimension so Coach could cut them. Gregory accepted
responsibility well, and relished being treated as an adult. Coach was also
mindful of the fact that Gregory still had the size and strength of a boy,
although Coach noticed that this had begun to change.

In a little more than an hour, Coach and Gregory had run wiring and
installed outlets in the addition walls, and Simon had watched, wired an
outlet himself and picked up on how wiring in houses was done. By wiring
the outlets in separate staggered daisy-chains, the electrical load was
split up between more than one circuit breaker, preventing overload.

Coach looked over their work and decided to lay in wires in the rafters for
the lights that would eventually be installed in the ceiling of the
room. For this task, he would use lighter 14-gauge wire, since lights draw
much less current than wall outlets.

Simon yawned, and Gregory noticed.

"Coach, do you need us for anything?" Gregory asked.

"Nah...I got to do this on a ladder, and it's a one-man disaster, buddy.  I
think Simon's had a full day."

"Me too, I'm getting sleepy." Gregory admitted.

"Good night, boys. Sleep tight."

"G'nite, Coach" the boys murmured, as they left the addition.  Simon
followed Gregory into the cabin and asked

"So, um, do I sleep up there with you?"

"Yeah...There's room for like, five people in that bed...no problem."

Gregory picked up a battery powered lantern and a roll of toilet paper and
said to Simon. "I need the sauna for a few minutes, so if you have to pee
just do it where it kills the weeds." He walked out of the cabin and headed
for the outhouse. Simon went outside and took Gregory's suggestion, then
came back in the cabin.

Simon slipped his shoes off and left them near the front door, and climbed
the steps to the loft. He found the light switch at the top of the stairs
and turned on the light, provided by numerous strings of LED Christmas
lights that Gregory had arranged into a small cloud in the apex of the
A-frame. He had stapled sheer fish netting to the walls to support the
strings. The effect was like being under stars.

Simon slipped his shirt and socks off, and lay on the bed. There was not
much more than room to stand at the head of the stairs, and some floor
space at the opposite end of the loft covered by the small table Gregory
kept clothes on. The huge bed took up most of the rest of the floor
plan. Coach thought Gregory was crazy to want something like that in the
cabin, but it had been given to them for the hauling, and the two of them
had been able to get the whole thing up the steps.

Simon could hear Gregory come back into the house, and slip his huaraches
off near Simon's sneakers.

He padded up the steps and looked down at Simon, laying on the bed. "You
look tired."

"I am...Um, is it okay if I sleep in my underwear?"  Simon wondered.

"Yeah, sure...Is it cool with you if I don't?"

"Uh, whatever you want...it's your bed and stuff." Simon replied. Gregory
climbed over the bed to position himself against one wall, and pulled the
sheets back. He pulled his shirt up over his head and took it off as Simon
watched. Gregory was lean, but not skinny, and his slight build was
beginning to fill out a bit as he gained muscle mass and his body prepared
for a growth spurt. His armpits were as bare as Simon's at this point, and
neither boy's voice had begun to change.

Simon slipped his jeans off and let them fall in a heap next to the bed.

"Can you get the lights, please?" Gregory asked.

Simon reached for the switch, and the little galaxy of lights went
dark. "That is so cool, dude." Simon said as he turned the lights on and
off again.

"How did you come up with that idea?" Simon asked as he lay back down on
the bed.  Gregory slipped under the sheets on his side of the bed and
pulled the sweat pants off.

"I always wondered what it would be like to see the outside of the
universe, instead of from in the middle of it, you know?"

Simon got under the sheets on his side of the bed, and turned on his side
to look at Gregory in the dark.

"So...I made my own universe with the lights. I'm probably way nerdier than
your friends." Gregory continued.

"It's not nerdy at all...And...I don't really have...I'm not like popular
and stuff."  Simon replied, then yawned.

"Good night, Gregory."

"Good night, Simon."

In minutes, all that could be heard in the loft was light snoring from
Simon. Gregory studied Simon's sleeping face in the darkness of the loft,
until he drifted off.

In the early morning hours, Gregory got up and silently made his way down
the steps as Simon slept. Nude, he slipped into his huaraches and stepped
out of the cabin and off the deck. He emptied his bladder on a clump of
weeds, which reminded him that he needed to cut the grass. His long thin
penis was noticeably larger lately, the fist that used to completely
conceal his erection now only gripped most of its length. Never having seen
another penis, the boy had no conception of what "normal" was. He knew
about puberty and that it had begun, because Coach had explained that to
him. Coach had of course, seen Gregory in nothing but tennis shoes here at
the cabin where he could sun himself all over. The last time he had done
that was at the end of last summer, and things had started to change for
Gregory since then.

Gregory had noticed that the growth that had started a few months ago had
been accompanied by more curvature, and his formerly straight erection had
begun to bow down in a smooth arc as it grew.  Finished, Gregory shook the
last drops off as his member went flaccid and dangled once again.

He slipped back inside the cabin quietly and took the sandals off before
padding back up the steps in bare feet. He made his way past Simon's
sleeping form and began to dress in a pair of briefs and shorts. He sat on
the bed and pulled socks onto his feet as Simon stirred and woke up.

"Urrrrrggaaaaaaahhhh!" Simon groaned and stretched , waiting for his eyes
to focus on Gregory.

"Good Morning, Simon...How did you sleep?"

"Like a rock...I must have been so tired I died or something." Simon said
as a sour look spread on his face. Morning breath. He threw the cover back
and sat up, a tight tent in his briefs.  "Be back in a minute." He said as
he stood up and reached for his jeans, as Gregory put a tee shirt on.

By the time Simon was finished relieving himself, Gregory and Coach were in
the kitchen downstairs. Gregory was washing his hands with bottled water as
Coach lit the stove burners. Simon came over to the sink and Gregory
squirted some soap on his friend's hands. Simon rubbed his soapy hands
together for a few minutes before Gregory began pouring water for Simon's
rinse.

"How do you like your eggs, Simon?"  Coach asked, as he put a griddle on
the burners.

"Um, scrambled...thanks."

"That's how Gregory likes his, too." Coach replied. He cracked four eggs
into a measuring cup and stirred them with a fork until the yolks were well
beaten. He put a dozen strips of bacon on the griddle and began to cook
them first. He melted butter on the remaining surface of the griddle, and
laid bread down on the hot surface. After three minutes, he turned the
bread over and crisped the other side. Once the toast and bacon had been
cooked, it was a matter of less than five minutes to cook the eggs.

"Gregory, I need plates. Simon, could you put the orange juice and milk
out?" Coach said.

Soon, they were enjoying breakfast and discussing the task of the day,
which was putting up the sheeting on the outside of the addition. The
sheeting is the structure that supports the siding of a building, and
provides the strength that a wall needs to prevent it collapsing
sideways. Coach had nailed temporary support boards to the floor joists to
support the sheets, and Gregory and Simon would assist in marking the
sheets with the locations of the wall studs before the sheets were nailed
up.

Once breakfast was finished, they brushed their teeth and Coach and Gregory
swizzled mouthwash. Simon found it too hot for his taste, and spit it back
out, causing Gregory to giggle.

Gregory and Simon went out to the barn and started the generator so Coach
could run the nail gun with a small air compressor.

The first order of business was to remove the plastic wrap on the addition
wall, exposing the studs and the previous night's electrical installation
to the outside.  Coach rummaged through the litter on the truck's dashboard
and came up with three tape measures, and two pencils. Handing one of each
to the boys, he had Gregory hop into the bed of the truck, and mark the
plywood on the edge at the front of the load, and Simon to measure and mark
at the back.

Coach found his chalk box and line in a pile of tools in the addition, and
brought it out to the truck.

"Gregory, you take this." Coach said, giving the boy the metal hook on the
end of the string line, then pulling the line out of the box as a small
crank on the side of the box spun. The line was coated in blue chalk
powder, some of which shook off the line as it jiggled. "Put that hook on
your mark...and Simon, you take this end...hold it on your mark...pull it
tight.... yeah, like that. Now pluck the string while its tight." Coach
said, snapping the line against the plywood, leaving a blue chalk line.

The boys both thought that was a pretty neat trick, and soon the first
piece was marked and nailed up. They continued to mark the plywood to the
numbers Coach called out, and decided to take turns plucking the string
instead of arguing over it.

Coach was impressed not only at how the boys were picking up useful skills,
but developing teamwork habits as well.

Three hours later, the sheeting was all nailed up and the addition was
closed structurally. They would need to re-wrap the building with plastic
to protect it from rain until the siding was installed, but the work they
did had been a huge gain. It was late mid-morning, and Coach could tell the
boys wanted to take a break and do something else. Gregory suggested a
shooting lesson for Simon, who was wholeheartedly in favor of the idea.

"Where is the range bag, Gregory?"

"I'll go get it."

"Grab a box of 22's with it, please."

Gregory returned from inside the cabin with the range bag, and brought it
out to the truck. He set the bag on the tailgate as Simon watched.

"Simon, have you ever shot a gun before?"

"No."

"Ever handled a gun?"

"No."

"Okay. Gregory, can you tell Simon the three rules of gun safety?"

Gregory nodded. "Never touch the trigger until you're ready to shoot.
Never point your gun at anything you don't want to shoot, and always point
the gun in a safe direction."

"Good job, Gregory. That first one is the most important, Simon. Guns don't
go off by themselves. Someone pulls a trigger. If you remember that first
rule and always assume that a gun is loaded, you'll never have a gun
accident."

Coach took a .22 caliber revolver out of the range bag, and put it on the
tailgate.

"This is a revolver, Simon. Gregory is going to show you how to check if it
is empty. I want you to watch his hands when he does it."  Coach nodded,
and Gregory picked up the gun, and unlatched the cylinder with his thumb
and opened the weapon. The cylinder was empty. Gregory closed the weapon
and set it down on the tailgate.

"What did you notice about how Gregory picked up the gun?"

"Um, he didn't touch the trigger, right?"

"Correct.  He obeyed the first rule when he handled the weapon. Now here's
another kind of handgun."

Coach took a nine-millimeter semiautomatic pistol out of the range bag and
placed it on the tailgate in front of Gregory.

"How do you clear this weapon, Gregory?"  Coach asked.

"You take the clip out first." Gregory said, as he picked the pistol up and
ejected an unloaded magazine. "Then you have to clear the chamber...Like
this." He demonstrated, pulling back the slide. "If there was a bullet in
there, it would fall out when I did that."

"Again, Gregory never touched the trigger when he cleared the pistol...this
is super important, Simon."

"Yes, Sir."

"Any questions about the safety rules?" Simon shook his head.

"They make sense to you?"

"Yes, Coach."

"Good...let's get to some shooting then.  You need to put these on at the
target, and we'll take this one with us to get you started."  Coach took
out the safety glasses and ear muffs, as well as the small revolver.

"Gregory, can you grab the pins and the targets?"

They walked over behind the barn where Coach had had a large round hay bale
delivered last year. Gregory carried a paper target over to the hay bale
and began to pin it with some pieces of stiff wire Coach kept in the range
bag for this purpose.

When Gregory was finished and had walked back to where Coach and Simon were
standing, Coach opened the little revolver to show Simon that it was empty,
closed the cylinder and gave the gun to Simon.

"Hold it in your right hand, and bring the palm of your left hand up under
the grip to support your right hand.... You're keeping your finger off the
trigger, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good, Simon. Point the gun at the target. Now look at your rear sight. See
the notch?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Look at your front sight."

"Got it."

"Put the front sight in the middle of the notch in the rear sight." Coach
said softly.

"Umm, okay, got it."

"Now, make the top of the front sight even with the top of the rear
sight...That's called your sight picture."

"Okay"

"Whatever's in front of that sight picture is going to get the bullet,
okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Eyes and ears, boys." Coach said, as he put his safety glasses and ear
muffs on. Gregory followed suit and made sure Simon had his on.

Coach took the gun from Simon and loaded one round of ammunition in the
revolver. He handed it back to Simon, telling him the gun was loaded and
said

"Take your time, cock the hammer and get your sight picture set up on the
bullseye. When you're ready, put your finger on the trigger and squeeze it
gently."

Simon raised the revolver and cocked it, took careful aim and put his
finger on the trigger. He was not aware that he was applying pressure to
the trigger when the shot rang out with a loud crack. There was almost no
recoil, which surprised Simon. He had just assumed that all guns kicked
like mules.

"So how was your first ever shot?" Coach wondered

"It kinda startled me when it went off, but good...I like it." Simon
replied.

"You did pretty good for a beginner, too." Gregory added, pointing to the
bullet hole in the target. It had hit about two inches above and left of
the bullseye.  "My first time I didn't even hit the target."

"At all?" Simon asked, surprised.

"Nope, I totally sucked." Gregory admitted, with a grin.

"Yeah, but it didn't take him long to get very good...don't let Gregory
tell you stories, Simon!" Coach replied with a grin.  "Want to see how you
do over six rounds?"

"Sure."

Coach opened the weapon and ejected the spent shell, and loaded six fresh
rounds in the gun.

"Same thing, Simon, sight picture, squeeze, sight picture, squeeze." Coach
said as he handed the revolver to Simon. The boy took aim and placed five
shots in a small cluster on the target, but the last one was off several
inches.

"Why did it do that?" Simon wondered.

"You pulled your shot." Gregory explained. "You flinched.  I can show you.
Let me see it."

Simon handed the empty weapon to Gregory, and watched as Gregory opened the
action and plucked two spent casings out of the cylinder. He inserted two
live rounds in the cylinder, spun it and closed the weapon. He handed it
back to Simon and said

"Try it again."

Simon concentrated on composing his sight picture, put his finger on the
trigger and the hammer fell on a spent round. The muzzle flipped,
confirming Gregory's diagnosis.

"Squeeze the trigger, Simon, don't jerk it. When the gun goes off, hold the
trigger back for a second or two and let it up slowly." Gregory advised.

"Okay" Simon replied, and tried it again. This time the muzzle stayed
steady when the hammer fell on another spent round. His third shot was
live, and hit the target in the grouping that Simon had
established. Another dud, and then the second live round also found its
mark in the group of shots.

"Good shooting, Simon, now it just takes practice." Coach said in
encouragement.  "Watch me then you're gonna do this."

Coach took the revolver and opened it, and showed Simon how to eject the
spent rounds with the ejector. He reloaded the cylinder and handed the gun
back to Simon, who took his aim on the target and squeezed off a very
respectable group. He was grinning widely as he lowered the gun after his
last round, and opened the gun. He dumped the six tiny empties into his
hand and asked

"Can I have some more bullets, please?"

Coach smiled and put a small cardboard box in Simon's hand. "There's fifty
rounds, and we brought more."

Gregory and Coach watched Simon shoot for several minutes before Gregory
looked up at Coach and asked.

"Last time, you said I could shoot your cannon...Can I?"  with some
excitement.

One of Coach's handguns was a blue .44 Magnum revolver with an eight-inch
barrel. It wasn't a Smith and Wesson model 29, but to Gregory it was Dirty
Harry's gun, and he relished the thought of shooting the huge
weapon. Loaded, it weighed over four pounds which was a bit to hold and
aim, and Coach had concerns about the boy's ability to control the recoil
of the powerful ammunition.  Coach decided to let Gregory shoot much lower
powered .44 Special in the Magnum. Like .38 Special and .357 Magnum, both
varieties of ammunition can be shot from Magnum handguns, but Magnum
ammunition will not fit in guns chambered for Specials.

"I didn't forget about you, little buddy" Coach said as he removed
Gregory's favorite firearm from the range bag.

"As promised." He said, retrieving a box of lead round nose ammunition. It
was still expensive, but much cheaper than jacketed bullets or hollow
points.

Simon fired the last live round in the .22, and Coach tapped him on the
shoulder.

"Hey Simon...hold up a minute, okay?" Simon turned to see what they were
doing and put the little gun on the range bag.

"I'm gonna start you off with one round to see if you can control it."
Coach said, inserting one round of .44 Special in the gun. He handed the
weapon to Gregory and the boy took a stance and raised the revolver. He
cocked the hammer back, and lined up the sights before his finger moved to
the trigger.

Simon and Coach waited for the shot, almost holding their breath in
anticipation. Gregory squeezed the trigger through the last few microns of
engagement, and the heavy revolver bucked in his hands, its weight damping
much of the recoil of the mild ammunition, but it still moved much more
than the smaller .22 had in Simon's grip. It was quite a bit of recoil for
Gregory's small hands, but he had expected that, and the boy had
anticipated and waited for this moment to come for some time. He simply
couldn't screw up and drop this gun with Coach, and now Simon watching.

Simon blinked involuntarily when the round went off, the report and
concussion was much sharper than the cracking sound the little .22s made
when they went off.  "Holy shit!" he said, but he couldn't be sure he had
actually said that aloud. The earmuffs, and echoing report of the gunshot
masked that, and the others didn't react.

Gregory lowered the gun, and turned to Coach with a huge grin on his face.
"That was awesome! Can I do it some more?" He said, as he opened the
cylinder and ejected the spent casing, and threw the brass in the range
bag.

"You won't leave me alone if you don't!" Coach joked, and held out six
fresh rounds in his hand. Gregory took the shells one by one as he loaded
the cylinder.

Simon began reloading the .22, and the boys took turns at the target until
Simon had shot the whole box of ammunition, and Gregory had reloaded three
times. As an experienced shooter, Gregory was content to let Simon have as
much time on the target as he wanted. Finally, Simon signaled that the
earmuffs were getting uncomfortable, and Coach suggested they stop for
lunch.

"Simon, are you having a good time?"

"Yes, Sir! That was great, thanks."

"You're welcome, buddy. You did pretty good for your first time."

They put the unloaded guns, empty shell casings and left-over ammunition in
the range bag and carried it back to the cabin. The fare for the mid-day
repast was hamburgers, and Coach made six patties and put them on the
griddle while the boys put the pickles, onion slices and condiments on the
table. Coach let them each have a can of root beer to drink.

"Coach can we go to the river after we eat?" Gregory asked.

"Sure, but just watch the sun. Make sure you put your stuff on." Coach
reminded Gregory. The boy had to wear sunscreen if he planned to be exposed
to the sun.

"Um, don't we have to wait like half an hour before we get in the water
after we eat and stuff?" Simon wondered.

Coach made a scoffing noise.  "I think that's an old wives' tale,
honestly. Besides, the water isn't deep enough down there that you can't
stand on the bottom if you did have a cramp. But, it's up to you."

Gregory took his shirt off, and handed the sunscreen to Coach. The boy
turned around and Coach put the formulation on Gregory's ears, neck and the
middle of his back, where he couldn't reach. Gregory continued to apply the
sunscreen to his arms, chest and legs.

"Want some?" Gregory offered the sunscreen to Simon.

"Nah, I generally don't burn."

"It's your funeral...famous last words." Gregory replied, grinning. He
slipped his tee shirt back on, and sat down to eat his hamburgers. Simon
looked at Gregory, who had an unconcerned look on his face as he chewed his
burger and watched Coach strain the oil out of a batch of home fries. He
doled out a small pile of fries on Simon and Gregory's plates and saved a
few for himself.

Simon thought that maybe Gregory knew something that he didn't when it came
to nudism. He hadn't actually spent time in the sun with nothing on, after
all.

"Hey" Gregory said, looking across the table at Simon.

"When we get done at the river, do you want to try archery?" he asked.

"Um, sure, sounds good!" Simon replied.

"We'll take my bow and the pipe bomb out to the hay bale on the way to the
river."

"Okay" Simon replied.

The boys finished lunch, and put their dishes and utensils in the plastic
tub they would fill with dishwater that evening after supper and left the
cabin with Gregory's bow case and the home-made quiver.

They walked out to the hay bale in the hot sun and put the bow case and
quiver in the shade that it cast.

"Um, Gregory?" Simon queried, and Gregory turned and looked at him.

"Was Coach ever married?"

"Pretty sure not ... He never said anything like that to me, anyway.  He
goes out with Patty. She's his girlfriend."

"What she like?"

"She's nice ... real hard core athletic and into the outdoors and nature."

"Oh, really?"

"Yup, their idea of a date is a ten-mile hike.  Been on a ton of `em."

"You go with them?"

"Sure. I love to hike and camp out and stuff.  Patty knows all sorts of
survival stuff too."



Simon grew quiet as they walked to the river. Gregory sensed something, and
looked over at Simon, who seemed deep in thought, his head down as he
walked.

"What are you thinking about?" Gregory wondered.

"Um ... Can ... Is it okay if I tell you later?" Simon asked.

"Sure ... If it's none of my business ...." Gregory offered.

"Oh, it's not like that. It's just ... you know when you want to say
something, but you don't know how to put it just right?"

"Sure, I get it." Gregory said reassuringly.

They reached the gravel bar, and Gregory stopped and turned to Simon.

"We can leave our clothes here on the grass." He said, as he pulled his
shirt off. He took the tube of sunscreen out of his hip pocket and laid it
on the shirt as he slipped out of his huaraches and unsnapped his
shorts. Simon watched and began pulling his shirt off as Gregory pushed his
shorts down and stepped out of them, leaving only his briefs on.

"Promise you won't laugh" Simon said as he took his shoes off and put them
on the grass.

"Laugh? I don't get it." Gregory said, not understanding.

"When you see how tiny my dick is." Simon replied.  Sitting on the edge of
the grass yard, he slipped his jeans and briefs off and stood in the
sunlight nude. Gregory slipped his briefs off, revealing his much larger
endowment, easily four times the size of Simon's pre-pubescent boyhood.

Gregory looked at Simon closely, as he was studied in turn by Simon, who
was incredulous at Gregory's development.

"How would I know? I've never seen another boy naked before ... well, now."
Gregory said.

"Dude, your dick is huge, trust me." Simon replied. "The two guys on my
track team that have hair and stuff are not that long."

"What about the other guys?" Gregory wondered, still studying Simon's
circumcised knob and compact scrotum.

"They're like me." Simon replied.

"So that makes you normal, not tiny." Gregory stated. "Even if it is tiny,
I would never laugh about it. That's just mean, and I'm not a mean
person. You're my friend, Simon. ... I mean, I hope you're my friend and
stuff."

Gregory turned and walked across the gravel into the water. The water felt
refreshing on his skin in the heat of the sun, and Simon followed, thinking
of what Gregory said. Did taunting Robby make Simon mean? Simon didn't want
to see himself as a mean person, and felt guilt again at the whole episode.

"You are ... my friend, Gregory." Simon said, as he held out his fist. Two
naked boys standing in a river smiled at each other and bumped fists. They
waded out into deeper water and submerged completely, enjoying the river's
flow and each other's company.  They got into a splash fight and tumbled
and pursued each other in the water until they grew tired, and rested in
neck deep water as the little fish picked at them.

Gregory blushed a bit. "God, this is embarrassing." He remarked. Simon
could feel the little minnows working on parts of him that weren't in the
water the night before and understood what Gregory meant.

"That feels totally ... weird. Kind of cool, though." Simon whispered as he
felt little tiny touches on his glans and scrotum, his member becoming
erect.

"I never had a boner in front of anyone before." Gregory admitted.  Simon
looked in the water and could see Gregory's erection indistinctly.

"I got one too." Simon replied.

"Ever get one in the locker room?  Like when all the guys are naked and
stuff?" Gregory asked.

"Nah ... Once you seen everybody else's dick you get used to it, and
there's not a lot of time anyway." Simon explained. "Can I see it?"

Gregory smiled and shrugged. "Sure." He said, as he stepped into shallower
water, followed by Simon. Out of the water, Gregory's thin, five-inch
erection bowed down gently, his foreskin pulled back bunched up behind the
rim, leaving the pale glans exposed. Simon's three inches were a bit
thicker than Gregory's penis and topped with an acorn shaped pink
glans. The skin on his shaft was divided halfway along its length by a
faint scar. A tiny set of "lips" bordered his urethral opening, merging
into a small ridge that ran under his glans and across his scrotum.

Gregory was fascinated, and asked Simon to lift his penis and expose his
scrotum.

"Wow, you have that line thingy down the middle of your nuts, too." He
noted. He gave Simon a view under his phallus, and when Simon asked him
about his foreskin, he pushed it forward over his glans, and they watched
as it slowly retracted back again.

"Can you make sperm come out?" Simon asked.

Gregory shook his head. "Not yet... You?"

"Nope." Simon replied.  "You jerk off and stuff?"

Gregory turned red and blushed. "Well, um, yeah ... It's like I have to
almost."

"Me too." Simon said.

"Really? I thought I was weird or something."

"Makes two of us, then." Simon replied. He turned to dive back into the
water and cool down from the sun's heat. The boys spent another hour in the
water, feeling a bit more bonded now that they knew each other a bit more
intimately.

"Ready for some archery?" Gregory asked.

"Sounds good. I'm getting all pruny and stuff." Simon replied. The boys
made their way out of the river and Gregory slipped his huaraches on, and
rolled his shorts and briefs into his shirt.

Simon followed suit, once he saw that Gregory was not going to dress. He
slipped into his sneakers and grabbed his clothes and made a bundle, then
the boys climbed out of the gravel bar and walked across the grass to the
hay bale.

Coach had seen Simon nude a few times in the locker room, but this was the
first time this year that Gregory had decided to take sun at the farm, and
Coach stared in disbelief at the view in the cabin window. He had seen boys
turn to men many times in his fifteen years as an educator, and had seen
puberty appear in nine-year-olds, as well as much later. He could see that
Gregory was well into the process and was ready for more of "the talk." He
wasn't expecting to see what was in front of him, but there was no denying
it, as he watched Simon and Gregory setting up a target on the hay bale.

Coach had explained the basics of the biology, but now Gregory would want
answers to questions about sexuality and the urges he would feel (or was
already, Coach thought.)

Outside, Gregory uncapped the "pipe bomb" and took several arrows out of
the foam block inside. He showed Simon how to nock the arrow on the bow,
and how to aim. He shot a few arrows into the target, then gave the bow to
Simon. He walked to the target and pulled his arrows out, and brought them
back to where Simon was standing. Handing Simon one arrow, Simon applied
what he had been shown and shot his first arrow. He was surprised to hit
the target, and had a huge grin on his face. Gregory continued to hand him
arrows as his confidence built and he found his rhythm. The sun felt good
on their bodies, but Coach decided to intervene.

"Gregory, is Simon getting too much sun?" he asked.

"I'll check." Gregory replied. "You probably should put some lotion on,
dude."

"Okay." Simon agreed. He had to admit that a sunburn would really suck,
when the weekend was going so well. Gregory got the tube out and asked.

"Want me to do your back where you can't reach?"

"Sure, thanks." Simon replied, standing still and feeling the gentle
pressure of Gregory's hand against his back rubbing the greasy ointment
on. "Here" he said, squirting some into Simon's hand. He giggled.

"What?" Simon asked.

"Your ass ... is so white." Gregory snickered. "I can tell you don't go
naked a lot."

"Don't ever ... until now." Simon observed. "Your ass is white too, but
you're like that all over. You don't tan?" He busied himself covering his
exposed skin with the lotion.

"No, not even a little. I just burn if I don't use sunscreen." Gregory
said, putting lotion on his groin and butt.

"What is that called when you have no color and stuff?" Simon asked.

"Albinism" Coach offered.

"I'm not that" Gregory stated, holding out his black hair between his
fingers.

"Maybe you're really a vampire!" Simon teased, giggling and holding up his
fingers to make a crucifix.

Gregory grinned and hissed through his teeth and lunged at Simon, who took
off running toward the barn, with Gregory in hot pursuit. The boys laughed
and screeched and giggled the whole time as Gregory chased Simon. Coach
watched and smiled. It had been a long time since Gregory had been this
happy, and Simon had become a completely different kid than the boy Coach
had talked to in the school hallway not so many weeks before.

When the two naked youths had run themselves out, they returned to the
archery gear and shot some more arrows before deciding to gather up the
gear and their clothes and bring it inside the cabin.

"Gregory, would you cut the grass today?"

"Can we go back to the river to cool off when I finish?" Gregory asked.

"We should all go I think." Coach replied. With that, Gregory took his
huaraches off and slipped his briefs and shorts on, and put his shirt
on. He had to change into sneakers to drive the old Ford tractor, as Coach
worried that the Mexican sandals would get fouled on the pedals in a panic
situation. He had taught Gregory that the key would keep him out of trouble
on the tractor if he kept his head and didn't panic. There wasn't much that
would take the boy by surprise at three miles per hour, and Gregory had
learned to gauge the position of the mower after Coach had showed him how
to cut close to buildings and trees and other objects in the yard.

There was almost two acres of grass to cut, and the job would take Gregory
about an hour. Simon followed Gregory out to the barn to watch, and had not
bothered to dress. He was enjoying the freedom of a clothing free
environment for the moment.

Gregory walked up to the old machine, and pulled the dipstick to check the
oil. Satisfied that the level was safe, he next turned the fuel tap on. It
was common practice to shut the fuel valve under the fuel tank, to prevent
leakage of fuel into the crankcase if the float in the carburetor
failed. The boy climbed into the seat and pulled the choke knob out, and
made sure the transmission was in neutral. He turned the key on the dash,
and pushed the starter button.

The old starter sounded like a seventy-year-old device protesting being
woken up, and after a few seconds the old engine clattered to life and
settled down into a steady idle. Gregory could see the oil pressure gauge
register movement. With his right hand, Gregory pulled a lever, and the
mower on the back of the tractor rose off the floor about a foot and a
half. Gregory pushed the clutch pedal down and found a gear. Making sure
Simon was clear, he eased off the clutch and the old tractor moved out of
the barn and into the sunlight. He pushed the choke in as the engine
warmed, and lowered the mower deck to the stop on the lift lever. Pushing
in the clutch, he engaged the power take off and the shaft above the mower
began to rotate.

"Don't get too close in case I hit something." He called out to
Simon. Simon nodded and walked back to the cabin as Gregory began to
mow. He throttled the engine up and drove to the edge of the lawn to cut
the perimeter of the yard. Simon set up a lawn chair and watched as Gregory
made orbits around the grounds.

Coach walked up behind Simon's chair and put his hand on the boy's
shoulder. Simon looked up at Coach and smiled.

"Can I do that someday?" he asked.

"We can teach you if you want." Coach replied.

"Yeah, I do." Simon replied.

"You would have to wear clothes." Coach teased, and Simon smiled.

"I guess so."

They watched as Gregory deftly maneuvered around the barn, and made
progress on the large yard.

"Coach?"

"Yes."

"Is Gregory really only ten? I mean, he's so smart and everything, and um,
well, you know ... the other stuff."

"He is a bit different when it comes to ability, and sometimes he pays the
price for that."

"What do you mean?"

"I push him a lot. Keeping him busy got him through losing his mother."

Simon nodded.

"By other stuff, you mean puberty?"

Simon nodded again

"Simon, everybody goes through their changes on their own time. Gregory's
time is now, and your time will come too. It's all perfectly natural and
you're both completely normal, okay?" Coach replied.

Simon nodded. Coach patted him on the shoulder again.

"Coach, um, why does he have skin on the end of his thing?" Simon asked,
pointing to the rim of the head of his penis.

"He isn't circumcised."

"So, that's what that is?" Simon wondered.

Coach nodded. "Most boys are, like you. Some aren't."

Simon was satisfied with that answer, and visualized all the boys on the
track team. Although he couldn't tell with Robby, Phillip was the only boy
on the team that was clearly uncut.

Coach stood beside the chair Simon was sitting in, and watched as Gregory
finished up the last of the grass and disengaged the mower. He throttled
back the tractor to idle and set the brake before getting off the tractor
and walking up to the cabin.

"The yard looks good, Gregory." Coach said as he handed the boy a bottle of
cold water.

"Thanks.  Ahh, that tastes good." Gregory replied swallowing a mouthful of
water. "Ready to get wet again?" he said to Simon, who got up from the
chair.

"Yup, Coach?" Simon asked.

"Getting into my shorts, be there in a second."

"I gotta put the tractor away." Gregory said, as he walked back over to the
machine. Simon followed and asked Gregory to show him how it worked.

Gregory gave Simon a rundown on the controls and pedals, before moving the
machine and backing it into the barn, and shutting the engine down. He
walked back to the cabin and took his clothes off again as Coach came out
of the cabin in a pair of shorts.

The three of them were sweating lightly from the late afternoon heat, as
they walked to the river. There was more horseplay as the boys enjoyed the
water, and the company of Coach, and they stayed in the water until after
five o'clock, judging from the angle of the sun.

They decided to go back to the house and dress, then prepare the evening
meal.

"Simon, you like baked potatoes?" Coach asked.

Simon had to think about that for a minute. If it didn't come from a box or
can and go in the microwave, it usually didn't happen in his home. Bobby
wasn't a cook by any stretch of the imagination.

"Um, sure."

"How do you like your steak?"

Simon had a blank look on his face

"Uh, um." He stumbled before Gregory rescued him.

"Bloody, not bloody, almost burnt, or found in a smoking hole in the ground
after a forest fire."

Simon giggled. "What the hell?  Uh, kinda bloody, I guess?"  Simon
answered, amused by Gregory's list of choices.

"Two steaks medium rare, Coach."  Gregory said with a grin, poking Simon in
the bare ribs. Simon squealed and took off on a run back to the house,
Gregory close behind. Coach walked back to the house, watching the two
naked youths run to the barn. A moment later, they emerged each with an
armload of twigs and small pieces of firewood. They carried it over to
where the grille was laying next to the bricks and ashes on the ground from
last night. Gregory reached down to see if there was any heat that he could
feel. He shook his head and dropped his wood on the ground.

"I'll get some paper and a lighter." He said to Simon as he turned and
walked to the cabin door and went inside. Coach had gone inside to change
out of his wet shorts and put long pants on again.

Gregory and Coach practiced recycling at the cabin. Food waste and anything
that would rot or feed wildlife was chucked into the edge of the woods,
paper was sorted to burn, cans and metal went back to town in the truck as
did plastic and glass. Coach had a large wheeled trash bin at home and a
can crusher that Gregory used, screwed to the wall inside the garage. When
that was full of soda and beer cans, they would take it down and cash it
in, and Coach would let Gregory save the money.

Coach had begun teaching Gregory about money and investing on a small scale
with a mutual fund account he had signed the boy up for when Gregory began
to stay with him when his mother was ill. He was allowed to spend some of
the money, but only after he had invested it for six months. Gregory could
see the effect that interest earnings had on the little account, and that
he would never accumulate wealth if he spent everything he got as soon as
he received it. Coach also talked to him about investments and expenses.
He took Gregory car shopping one Sunday about a year ago, and let the boy
wander the lot looking at window stickers. He sat in the truck and waited
until Gregory completed his assignment and got back in the truck. They
bought a Sunday newspaper and spent some time finding out what those cars
were worth a year later. Gregory now understood why Coach drove the
rattly-ass old pickup that they both loved so much, and why vehicles are
expenses, and not investments.

Gregory came back out of the cabin with the trash bag full of paper and
cartons, and began to build the fire. Simon got down on his knees too and
helped Gregory pick the smallest pieces of wood to put on first.

"Think the Indians did this with their dicks hanging out freezing to
death?" Gregory joked.

"Well, somebody somewhere had to make the first fire, right?"

"Pretty sure that was lightning and not humans."

Gregory flicked and fiddled with the lighter, trying to get it to
cooperate. "What a piece of shit!" he spat in frustration.

"Can I try it?" Simon asked. Gregory looked up at Simon and shrugged.

"Sure, might as well" he said, handing over the lighter to Simon. A flame
jumped obediently from the device on the first try, and Gregory's mouth
popped open.

"OH YEAH, RIGHT! The damn thing works for you!" Gregory said in
exasperation as Simon laughed and Gregory grinned. Simon had to calm down
to hold the lighter steady under the paper as the boys shook with laughter.

"It just doesn't like you as much as it likes me." Simon teased.

Gregory shook his head and arranged the bricks and put the grille over the
fire as the paper started to burn.

"Guess I would freeze to death if the dinosaurs didn't eat me first."

"At least yours wouldn't disappear!" Simon joked, looking down at his inch
of boyhood. "Dinosaurs ... you dork!"  Simon replied, shaking his head.

Gregory cackled and said "I'm gonna get dressed again. Come on."

 The boys left the fire and stepped onto the porch and found their bundles
where they had left them. After they dressed, they went inside and washed
their hands. Coach was wrapping potatoes in aluminum foil, and Gregory got
a head of lettuce out of the refrigerator. He began to prepare a salad,
tearing the lettuce into little pieces.

After the greens were shredded, he found a small skillet, and turned a
burner on the stove on to "low" flame. He took out the butter from the
refrigerator and put a pat in the skillet as Simon watched, fascinated.

"You know how to cook?" he asked as Gregory whizzed the butter around the
pan as it began to melt.

"Sure do. You cook?"

"I got macaroni and noodles in the microwave down pretty good."

Gregory giggled.

"Dude, that's ... just watch me, okay?" Gregory said shaking his head. He
got a small chicken breast and a bundle of chives out of the refrigerator
and slipped the breast into the butter in the pan, and the meat sizzled. He
stirred it with a fork, and flipped it, to coat both sides of the breast
with the hot butter.

"So, like, why are you making chicken? I thought we were having steaks ..."

"Grilled chicken salad, dude."

"Oh."

Coach chuckled as he put the steaks on a platter with the wrapped
potatoes. He took the platter out to the porch and set it on a camp stool
as he went to check on the fire. It wasn't down to hot coals yet, but he
decided to put the steaks and potatoes on anyway.

While they were alone in the kitchen, Simon watched Gregory finish the
breast and cut it up. Coach came back in and grabbed a beer, looked in on
Gregory's progress with the salad and ruffled their hair gently. After
Coach went back outside, Simon said

"I wish I was smart like you, Gregory. You know how to do everything. I
wanted to tell you that when we walked to the river and I said I would tell
you what I was thinkin' later and stuff."

Gregory looked at Simon for a long moment and replied

"That's not really fair, Simon. To you, I mean. You just didn't have
someone to show you stuff like I got. Well, now you do ... are your hands
clean?"

"Uh, yeah?" Simon replied.

"Here, come cut up the chives. I'll show you how."

Simon stood beside Gregory and watched as Gregory began chopping chives for
the potatoes. Watching his fingers, he said

"Here, you do it," handing Simon the knife. "Keep it up against your
knuckles like that." He watched as Simon began to rock the blade over the
greens, cutting them into small bits.

"I wasn't sure what you would be like when Coach said you were coming with
us. I'm really glad you did." Gregory said.

"Thanks. Me, too.  Um, can I ask you something ... I mean, if it's not too
personal."

"What's that?"

"Would you let Coach adopt you."?

The boys were not aware of the fact that with the windows open, Coach was
able to overhear their conversation in the kitchen. He wasn't really paying
that much attention to what the boys were talking about until Simon's
question almost caused him to spill the beer he was about to sip.

"Well, yeah ...sure!" Gregory replied.

"So why haven't you asked him?"

"Because he'll say yes."

Simon stood there looking at Gregory for a moment.

"You want Coach to adopt you but you won't ask him because he'll say
yes...Huh?"

Gregory nodded.

"I totally don't understand."

Out on the porch, Coach was in silent agreement with Simon. His charge had
just confused the hell out of him as well.

"He'd say yes to make me happy. Even if he didn't want to do it. If he
comes and asks me, then I know he really wants me. Sorry if that sounds
crazy."

"No ...I get it now.  You love him a lot." Simon replied.

"I don't have anybody else." Gregory said softly. "If he hadn't been there
for my mom ... well." He let those thoughts trail off unsaid.

Coach got up from the chair and turned the potatoes, which were hot and
hissing inside the foil. That damn kid! he thought, reflecting on what
Gregory said as a smile crossed his face and his eyes got a bit moist.  He
turned the steaks, then stood looking off into the woods.  Maybe this was
the time to talk to Gregory. He had been putting off this conversation, but
maybe Gregory was ready, or had been ready and he had misread the
situation.

Gregory put butter in the still warm skillet to melt so they could pour it
on the potatoes.

"How's things with your uncle?" he asked.

Simon sat down at the table and looked down at his hands.

"Pretty bad at first. I was really pissed off and he was too. I'd get
really mad and yell at him a lot and stuff."  He felt tears coming on and
looked up, trying to push it all back down.

"If you don't wanna talk about it..."

"It's cool."  Simon replied. "Did some stupid shit I had to fix...but
things are better now. My uncle is pretty cool and we talk now."

Coach came back in and told the boys the steaks would be a bit longer, and
put his beer can in the recyclables bag. He grabbed another beer from the
refrigerator, and went back out to the porch to wait on the steaks.

Soon, the steaks and potatoes were done, and Coach brought them in and they
sat down to eat. Simon relished the rare treat, and wondered what it would
be like to eat meals that didn't come out of a box or can. They were all
too busy eating to talk much, until Gregory put his fork down.

"Coach, could Simon come stay with us on weekends at home sometimes?"
Gregory asked.

"If his uncle says it's okay, sure." Coach replied. The boys grinned at
each other and bumped knuckles.

They finished the meal, and they cleared the table. Gregory covered the
salad and put it away as Coach carried the paper plates out to the fire. He
stood and watched the trash begin to char and smoke before flames broke out
and consumed the paper. He walked to the truck and opened the door and got
in. Sitting in the passenger seat, he took a stack of mail off the
dashboard and began riffling through the envelopes until he found what he
was looking for. He sat and looked at the envelope for a few minutes, deep
in thought before he climbed out and shut the door.

He walked back into the cabin.

"Gregory, sit down a minute." Coach said, standing behind a chair. Simon
had gone out to the yard and was wandering around in the gathering
dusk. One or two stars were visible now in the twilight.

Gregory could tell something out of the ordinary was up, and hoped that
Coach wasn't about to deliver bad news. He slipped into the chair, and
Coach pulled the chair next to the one he was sitting in back from the
table.

"I have something to give you. Something that I got for you when I knew
that your mother wasn't coming home from hospice." Coach gently stroked
Gregory's chin with his thumb. He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and
placed it on the table in front of Gregory and sat down.

"I guess I been putting this off, waiting for you to be ready. I'm sorry if
I should have done this sooner, little buddy."

Gregory looked at the envelope and touched it.

"I don't want to know who he is, Coach.  If that's ..."

"It's not. I won't ever do that to you." Coach said softly.

Gregory had never heard or read the man's name, as it had been his mother's
wish never to discuss this in Gregory's presence.

She knew his name and sued him for paternity, but the guy quit his job and
skipped town the day the process server found him. Coach would never tell
Gregory any of this out of respect for his mother. She would never have
wanted Gregory to think that he was an unwanted mistake, the product of a
poor decision after a night out. Gregory was still terrified at the thought
that his father would come to take him, even though he was present when his
letter to the judge was read in chambers and the order was granted.

The boy opened the envelope and took the papers inside out. He unfolded
them and all he saw at that point was a bold heading on the top of the
first page.

		PETITION OF ADOPTION OF A MINOR

Gregory dropped the papers as if they were hot, and let out a loud squeal
that Simon heard outside the cabin. He jumped up from the chair and stood
beside Coach, hopping up and down and hugging Coach around the neck.

Simon came in the door as Coach stood and Gregory jumped on him and wrapped
his legs around the man's midsection.

Simon stared and Gregory flipped him a thumb's up. "He asked me, Simon! He
asked!"

Coach chuckled and replied, "I'm just glad you're skinny!"  Gregory wasn't
listening at the moment, he was too busy pecking Coach on the cheek with
kisses. After they spent a few moments in the embrace with their eyes
tightly closed, then Coach crouched and Gregory put his feet on the floor
and let Coach go.

"We'll get busy on this next week, promise." Coach said to Gregory.

Simon smiled, then slipped out and sat on the porch.

Coach said to Gregory "Want to see if Simon wants to make S'mores?"

Gregory nodded and looked around "Where'd he go?" as he went out the door.

"Oh, hey, there you are!"

"That's awesome, Gregory. I'm really happy for you." He stood up, and
Gregory hugged him. Simon was taken a bit by surprise but he held onto
Gregory tightly.

"This feels really great." He whispered into Gregory's ear.

"Yeah, you can never get enough hugs." Gregory murmured.

"I wish I did." Simon replied.

"Better get used to them around here, then." Gregory said softly. He patted
Simon's back and released him. "Come on, Coach wants to do S'mores."

"Um, what's that?"

"Oh, dude! You are gonna love S'mores!"

The trio brought the camp stools out to the fire along with the
marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate bars and Gregory introduced
Simon to the messy pleasures of making S'mores over a fire.

After they made a few each, Simon noticed tiny lights in the woods,
blinking on and off at random. They were so small and brief that Simon
wasn't sure he actually saw them.

"Hey, look!" he said, pointing.

"Lightning bugs." Gregory said, his mouth full of the gooey treat. "Wanna
catch one? Come on."

"You boys gonna want any more of this?" Coach asked.

Simon and Gregory shook their heads.

"I'm done." Gregory said.

"Me too, Coach. I don't wanna get sick if I eat too much." Simon replied.

The boys walked away from the fire and crossed the mowed field to the edge
of the woods. When their eyes adjusted to the dusk, they could see the
small insects flying slowly, and Gregory caught one and held it in his
cupped hands.

"Put your eye against my hands and you can see him light up in there."
Gregory said. Simon was fascinated as he held Gregory's hands to his face
and could see the tiny creature glow its greenish light. The insect got
restless after a minute or two and tried to fly in Gregory's hands
startling Simon as it made its escape.

The boys laughed hysterically at Simon's reaction, as he blushed in
embarrassment. They walked around and watched the bugs for an hour or so,
until they began to thin out and disappear.

"What happened to them, where'd they go?" Simon wondered.

"Home, to bed I guess." Gregory replied. It was now fully dark, and the
moon had not risen yet. Coach had taken the food back inside, and the fire
was about down to hot ashes as they walked back up to the cabin.

Gregory went inside and got the lantern and went to the outhouse. Simon sat
on the porch and reflected on the events of the last two days. Bobby and
the apartment they shared seemed a million miles away at the moment.  He
and Bobby had grown closer, and he took that impulse to hug his uncle as a
good sign. Bobby had made an enormous commitment to Simon by quitting
smoking, and Simon had been good to his promise to work things out with
Bobby when he became angry.  He was finding that Bobby listened, cared and
had good advice when he stuck around long enough to hear it.

Gregory returned from the outhouse and offered the lantern to Simon.

"I'm going up to bed, Simon."

"I'll be there in a minute." Simon replied as he headed for the outhouse.

Simon left his shoes at the door and climbed the steps to the loft. Gregory
was already in bed, covered by a sheet watching Simon undress. There was no
modesty now between the boys, and Simon slipped under the sheet nude. He
scooted next to Gregory and hugged the younger boy to him. Gregory smiled
as he felt Simon breathe against the back of his neck.

"I'm so glad I came here. I had a good time today. Thanks." Simon whispered
into Gregory's neck.

Gregory giggled. "It tickles when you talk ... You're welcome."

Simon began to tickle Gregory's neck and blow in his ears and Gregory
buried his face in his pillow and screamed and squealed, but didn't do
anything to make Simon stop. Simon giggled as he searched Gregory for
ticklish spots, and found the ribs, neck and earlobes the best places. He
couldn't see Gregory blush in the dark, but the twitching and muffled
squeals were proof that his tactics were effective.  After a few minutes,
he stopped and lay quiet for some time. Gregory rolled over to face Simon,
and could tell that his eyes were open in the nearly total darkness of the
loft.

"Gregory?" Simon whispered

"What?"

"Um, down at the river today ... I wanted to um ... touch your boner and
stuff."

"Why didn't you?"

"I guess I was afraid you'd get mad or think I was weird."

"Still want to?"

"Yeah."

"Can I touch yours too?"

"Yeah"

Gregory scooted and repositioned himself so that Simon's feet were next to
his head, with Simon on his right side. He snuggled into Simon, and felt
for his friend's groin in the darkness. His fingers found Simon's erection,
and he gripped it as Simon whimpered.

"Feels great." Simon whispered as he searched for Gregory's unit.  Gregory
gasped as he felt his penis being touched by another person for the first
time since his mother began letting him bathe himself.

"Feels so soft and smooth" Gregory marveled.

"Yeah" Simon agreed.

"Ever done this before?" Gregory wondered.

"Nope" Simon replied.

"Me either. Shit, this feels great." Gregory whispered as Simon felt up and
down the long shaft, and played in Gregory's emerging little patch of pubic
hair.  He was fascinated by the loose sleeve of skin that rolled up over
the tip of Gregory's penis, and the ten-year old's much larger testicles.

Simon's slightly thicker little stick was rock hard as Gregory teased it,
and gently played with Simon's small scrotum, lightly brushing it on the
sides as Simon's testicles responded by reflex.  Like most all small boys,
Simon was able to pull his testicles up out of his scrotum with
ease. Gregory had recently found he was no longer able to do that after his
gonads began their rapid growth.

"Show me how you do it." Simon whispered.

Gregory wrapped his fist around Simon's boyhood and began to stroke slowly,
squeezing the small organ gently. Simon gasped and took Gregory's organ in
the same manner, bumping his fist against Gregory's pelvis.

"Move up a little, so the tip is in your hand." Gregory whispered.

Simon complied and Gregory moaned.  Stroking each other for a few minutes,
their arousal had reached a peak, and neither boy could reach orgasm yet.
Tiring, they continued the intimacy with caresses and slow exploration of
each other for quite a while until they got sleepy, wished each other a
good night and fell asleep.