DISCLAIMER:
M/M, m/m, M/m
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This story contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts of boys and men discovering their sexuality. It contains graphic scenes of sex between consenting underage boys, consenting adult males and boys with adult males (eventually). If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18, do not read it.
If it is illegal to read such material where you live or if you find the topic distasteful, then please stop reading now. You have been warned.
This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them at your own site, please contact the author for permission.
Copyright 2016 WSC, all rights reserved.
A copy of the story has been assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of its submission agreement. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to enderwiggin61@outlook.com
All flames will be politely ignored.
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Author's Note:
I started writing this story, never intending it to grow into what it has become. It seems to have taken on a life of its own. I hope you enjoy.
Also, if you are enjoying this story, my first story can be found here:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/moments
Logan came back with Malcom in tow and he jumped on the couch with T.J., Andy and Mike while Malcom took the empty spot on the love seat next to Dylan.
His being there didn't immediately register, but Dylan finally looked at the newcomer and said, "Oh, hey, Mal, what's up?" before looking back to Tom and me to continue our conversation.
"MALCOM!! What the ...? How the ...? Where the ...?"
"Yeah, man, nice to see you, too. Can a dude get a freakin' hug?" That was all it took as the two men leaned closer and wrapped their arms around each other.
Thinking they might want a little privacy for a few minutes, I stood and signaled the family to join me in the kitchen. Once we arrived there, Tom and I started work on getting the grills ready to cook steaks and we had the boys get out everything they would need to set the table in a bit. The potatoes had been in the oven for about half an hour already, so they would be ready to go when the steaks were. I had Logan find the second butter dish and put out another stick since I assumed most of us would want some on our spuds. When the boys had everything ready for the table, we shooed them off to the theater to watch Animal Planet or something while we started cooking the steaks.
"Ohmigod, Mal, I've missed you so damn much. I didn't think I'd ever see you again," I cried.
"Me, too, Dyl. I've never gotten over havin' to leave you," Malcom sobbed.
We sat there on the love seat holding onto each other and crying our eyes out, overjoyed at being together again after all the years apart. Neither one of us wanted to let go for fear the other would disappear in a puff of smoke. After several minutes of squeezing the stuffing out of each other, my curiosity couldn't be kept at bay any longer. I broke our embrace and asked the question that had been on my mind since we were sixteen and the guy I loved was ripped from my life.
"I gotta know, man. Where the hell'd you disappear to, Mal? And why?"
"You remember what a prick my old man always was, don't ya'?"
"Yeah, he hated fags, that's why we always had to be extra careful when we were at your house."
"Yeah, well, one time we weren't quite careful enough, man. I screwed up and left the damn curtains open. Course, it just had to be the same fuckin' day the asshole decides to walk by my window. He saw me slippin' you the old salami and it was game over. He waited `til you left to lower the boom, but once he did, it was all over but the cryin'. He'd called his brother in Chicago, told him we had to move right now and asked if he could put us up `til we could find a different place. Good old Uncle Art happily said, `come on up'. So, we loaded up the car that weekend and were gone. The fucker wouldn't even let me call you to say goodbye."
"But you never called, man? It's been almost twenty years and I ain't heard shit from you since."
"Well, the old man made sure we didn't have a phone in our apartment, so I couldn't call nobody from home. And he had my sister, Jackie, followin' me ever where I went with orders to tell him if I did call anybody. By the time I got the fuck outta that prison and moved to Bloomington, I'd heard you'd become a cop. I've wanted to call you so many times since then, but I just couldn't make myself do it. I was afraid if you was thinking `bout me, you'd screw up someday and get your sorry ass blown away. I wasn't gonna have that on my conscience."
"Well, you don't' have to worry `bout that any longer. I quit this week."
"That's what Tom said. Sorry `bout you losin' a guy. That's gotta suck, big time."
"Don't worry `bout it. Barry was on his way out the door anyway. I've been pretty fucked up the last couple days, but the more I think about it, the more pissed off I get at the dumb son-of-a-bitch. The stupid bastard was sellin' information to the newspaper to cover his gamblin' debts. Gave them the name and number of a victim in a child sex abuse case. I'm sorry for his wife and kids, but he fucked up and paid the price for it. End of story."
"Other than that, how ya' been, man?"
"Not too bad, I guess. Lonely as hell without you around. I hope we can change that."
"Me, too, Dyl. Have you figured out what you're gonna do when you hang up the gun and badge?"
"Tom and I are going to work together doing background investigations on people looking to adopt. We plan to specialize on helping gay kids find their forever families. I'll still be helping people, just in a different way."
"That sounds great, man. How'd you hook up with these guys, anyway?"
"Tom was one of my deputies. He quit the force right after he met Max and they decided they were meant to be together."
"I've always felt the same way about us, Dyl, we were meant to be together. Then my old man went and screwed us over. So, here's my question for you; where do we go from here? Do you still want me in your life?"
"More than ever, man. And Barry gettin' killed just reminds me of how short life is, and I don't wanna waste another fuckin' minute of it. I still love you, always have, always will. I can't think of anyone I'd rather grow old with. You think you want to join me in that journey?"
"You really have to ask a stupid question like that? I was just waitin' for you to quit bein' a damn cop before I told you I still cared about you. I couldn't have handled us getting back together and then you gettin' hurt, or worse. I'm ready for a future that includes you. Just give the word."
"Consider it given. God, how I've longed to see you again. I can't believe this is really happening."
"You need to thank Tom for that. If we'd left it up to you or me, we'd both be dead and buried before we got our shit together," Malcom chuckled. Before I realized what was happening, Malcom had moved off the love seat and was kneeling on the floor in front of me, holding both of my hands in his. "Dylan Brock, I love you more than life itself. And I'm tired of living this empty shell of a life I have for the last twenty years. I want, and need you to make my life whole, from this day forward, until the end of time. Will you marry me?"
"You're damn right I will. Get up here you hopeless romantic," I answered as I stood, pulled Malcom to his feet and we wrapped each other in a hug, sharing a sweet and tender kiss.
After getting the steaks on the grill, I peeked into the living room to see what was happening with our guests. "Ps-s-s-t, Tom, get your ass over here," I hissed. "You ain't gonna believe what's going on in there."
"What?" he asked as he walked over and stuck his head around the corner to peer into the living room with me. "Holy shit, is that what I think it is?"
"Sure looks like it to me. It's like déjà vu all over again," I giggled. "Oh, crap, here they come, let's get back to the steaks." Tom and I had just returned to the stove and were flipping the steaks when Dylan and Malcom joined us in the kitchen. Both men's faces were split by an ear-to-ear smile and they were holding hands as only lovers do.
"Ahem," Dylan coughed, "We have a little announcement to make. Where's the boys at?"
"They're in the theater. I'll go get `em." I hustled to retrieve the boys and after shutting everything down, returned to the kitchen for the `announcement'.
When all of us had regrouped in the kitchen, Dylan continued. "Since you guys made this possible, we want you to be the first people to know. Malcom and I are getting married."
After all the cheering, hugs, congratulations and celebrating had finally calmed down, I was the first to speak when I said, "Welcome to the family, Malcom. It'll be our pleasure to welcome you to the fold."
Malcom came over, pulled me into another hug and said, "Thanks, Max, it'll be nice to have a family again. I'd forgotten what it feels like to be connected with other people and I look forward to relearning that with all you guys." He released me and gave Tom an even longer hug while saying, "Thanks for finding my sorry lost ass, man. You've made a dream come true today. I'll forever be in your debt."
Dylan came over and grabbed Tom and I into a hug and said, "I hope you both know how much I love you for giving Malcom back to me. A man couldn't ask for better brothers than the two of you." After releasing us, he then turned to the boys and knelt down to their level, adding, "And if your dads are my brothers, I guess that makes all of you my nephews." Our five ran into Dylan's outstretched arms, almost knocking him on his ass, while Logan held back, unsure if he should join in. "That goes for you, too, Logan."
"But I ain't family, Mr. Brock."
"Sure, you are, buddy, get over here." Logan ran over and joined the others with a big smile filling his face, happy to be part of the family.
"Does that mean we can call you Uncle Dylan `stead of Mr. Brock?" T.J. asked.
"You bet, boys, and Malcom will be your uncle, too."
"Really!? Cool beans, dudes!" Alex exclaimed.
"Wouldn't have it any other way, guys," Malcom agreed as he knelt for another hug with the boys. "The only problem I can see is figuring out which one of you is which," he added as he held the twins back for a moment.
"Oh, that's easy," Joey giggled.
"Yeah, all ya' gotta do is look at our butts," Alex added with his own giggle. Both promptly turned around so Malcom could see the birth mark that was evident on Alex's behind.
"Gee, that's ever so helpful, boys. All you have to do now is be nude and walk backwards all the time. Problem solved," he laughed.
"It would be if our dads would let us go naked everywhere," Joey laughed.
"Um, don't see that happening any time in the future, boys. Sorry," I said.
"Aw, dang it. You just take the fun outta everything," Andy whined.
"Okay, everyone, the steaks are about ready to roll," Tom interjected. "Boys, why don't you get the table set?" All six jumped to their task with Alex and Joey getting drinks for everyone with Logan taking the glasses to the table. After one more flip and a few more minutes on the grills, the steaks were done, so we pulled the potatoes out of the oven and got everything on the table. After taking our seats, Tom cut Andy's steak, I cut Mike's and Malcom took care of T.J.'s. Yep, he was truly part of the family now. Most of our conversation during the meal was filling Malcom in on who we were and how we all ended up here together. He was very interested to hear the boys' stories and how they'd all survived their lives' rough beginnings.
We also found out that Malcom was a college professor who taught psychology, most notably abnormal psych. He currently taught at Illinois State University in Bloomington/Normal. But after agreeing to become Dylan's partner and spouse, he talked about checking into possible openings at the local campus of the University of Illinois. While he wouldn't mind the commute to Bloomington to teach, he wanted his job to be closer to home so the two could spend as much time together as possible to make up for all the time they'd already lost.
As we were winding down at the table, I looked at Malcom and commented, "By the way, Malcom, you may want to be careful of the thoughts and ideas that roam freely in your mind when you're here."
"Oh, why's that?" he asked inquisitively.
"Because three of these young lads can reach into your mind, read those thoughts and they can see the images that flit through there, also."
"You can't be serious," he enthused with a look a of surprise. "Which ones?" he added as he looked back towards the boys.
"Just think about something that has a strong emotional connection and you'll find out," Tom answered. Tom, Dylan and I sat back and watched as Malcom closed his eyes and conjured up something.
T.J. was the first to sense something and said, "Really, Uncle Malcom? Sorry, but we're not allowed to talk about sex at the dinner table. Dad finds it embarrassing for some reason."
Alex and Joey started snickering at the other end of the table and Joey said, "Oh, man, I bet that hurts like hell." That got all the boys laughing hysterically.
Dylan stared at Malcom and commented, "Really, dude, of all the things you could have focused on, that's what you picked."
Malcom's jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide at the boys' revelations. "Holy, crap. That's unreal. I've worked with twins before and knew many of them could feel things the other was feeling, but I've never seen where they can do it with other people. And T.J., my god, that's unbelievable. There's got to be some trick going on here."
"No tricks, Uncle Malcom, I promise," T.J. responded. "Besides, you just hooked back up with a guy you've been in love with forever but also haven't seen in forever, either. Of course, you're gonna be thinking about having sex with him. But, I gotta agree with Joey, that's gonna hurt." After his last statement, T.J. wiggled in his chair as if to reinforce the idea.
"Oh, man, this is so cool. I've waited all my life to find people like you."
"What do you mean, Uncle Malcom?" Joey asked.
"You talkin' gay kids, nudists, or just freaks like us?" Alex added.
"Oh, you're not freaks boys. You have a special gift that not very many people have. I'd love to work with you guys and see just how far your capabilities go."
"Well, we can talk to each other without sayin' a word. I think it and it pops up in his mind," Alex offered.
"We also found out just the other night that we can make each other punch ourselves. Is that far enough?" Joey added.
"What do you mean by punching yourselves?"
"Well, we were mad at each other and I just thought about punchin' Joey in the nose and he did it to himself."
"And that pissed me off even more, so I got Alex to black his own eye."
"Ohmigod! That sounds like it might be psychokinesis. There've been reported incidents over the years, but most have been thoroughly debunked. Others are still questionable, but most likely faked. This is the first possible case I've heard about in years."
"What that sikokiwhatever?" T.J. asked.
"Psychokinesis, T.J. It's the ability to have an effect on the material world by using only your mind to cause that change. It's been talked about and claimed by people for years, but no one has ever been able to prove it in a controlled experiment that anyone truly has such abilities. And your brothers may just finally be the ones to prove it's possible. And you both can talk to the other, mind to mind?"
"Well, yeah," Joey answered like it should be obvious, "we been doin' that for years. T.J. can do it now, too. He's really good at it."
"Oh, my. I'm in heaven," Malcom whispered. "Max, Tom, if it's okay with you guys and your sons, I'd like to work with them after I move to Springfield this summer. I think there's a real chance for some breakthroughs with them."
"I'm sure the boys wouldn't mind doing it, Malcom, but we need to think about that," I responded.
"Yeah, we wouldn't want to see them exploited or become a sideshow act," Tom added.
"No worries, fellas. I wouldn't dream of letting that happen. It's entirely up to you, but if you think it's something you'll allow, I want to be the one to do it. That's all I ask."
"Fair enough," I replied. "We'll consider it."
"Hey, Uncle Dylan," Logan started, "What's goin' on with my dad?"
"I'm glad you asked, Logan. I've found a counselor who's agreed to work with both of you. After your dad goes to court next week, he'll be released so he can go back home and start working with the counselor. Once he's been a few times by himself, they'll want you to be there with him so you two can start to work things out together."
"Can I see him after he gets to go back home?"
"That can probably be arranged, but I'm sure your visits will have to be supervised by someone until the counselor says it's okay for you to go back home."
"He's welcome to come here to have a visit," I offered.
"You sure about that? He don't like you guys much."
"So, what? His son's living here and Logan's the one that matters. I think it would do Charlie some good to see we're not the evil people he's been led to believe we are."
"Well, if it's okay with you, then I'll tell that to the judge next week and see what he thinks."
"So, is everybody ready to get this mess dealt with and hit the pool?" A chorus of yesses spread through the group, so we got busy and started our cleanup. The boys had the table cleaned up in very short order and the adults took care of the rest of the mess. In twenty minutes, we were all ready to relax in the pool, so we grabbed towels and headed outside. The boys, as usual, wasted no time in dropping their towels on chairs or the table and jumped right in. Us adults, on the other hand, bypassed the regular muggings we usually received and immediately headed for the deep end and our favorite corner.
Once we'd settled in, Malcom commented, "Those are some great boys, you guys. Polite, kind, smart as whips and mature beyond their ages. You got lucky, man. They could be like Dyl and I were at that age, hell on wheels, ain't that right?"
"Uh, Malcom," Dylan interjected, "Could we dispense with our nicknames from when we were kids? I much prefer my full name now."
"Sure thing, Dyl-an," Malcom snickered. "So sorry if I've offended you," he cracked.
"I'm not offended, it's just that `Dyl' is only two letters away from being dildo, and I'd just as soon not be saddled with that moniker."
"Speaking of dildoes," Malcom started, "you should have some company make a mold of your cock and sell a latex version. You'd become a very rich man. I can just see all those lonely and frustrated white women whose husbands don't give `em a fuck anymore lining up to buy the `Dyl-do'. They could be made in different colors, but the black version would outsell the others ten to one," he laughed and we all joined him.
"Tell you what, Malcom, you find an adult novelty company close by and I'll do just that. You just might find a few frustrated gay guys who'd pay for the challenge of taking me up their ass, too."
"No doubt about it. I know one dude who can't wait to have that monster back in his ass."
"Um, would you two like to borrow our bedroom for a while?" I asked with a chuckle.
"Nah, we're good, Max. We always talk like this, just bullshittin', ya' know. I guess old habits die hard."
"Sounds like the way I wanna die, in bed and hard with my lover here," Tom laughed.
"Uh, Tom, I hate to ask what might be a personal question," Dylan started, "but I'm going to anyway. You mind explaining the recent change in appearance since the last time I was here."
"What are you talkin' about? I haven't changed nothin'," Tom protested.
"Oh, so it was Max who did it, huh? I shoulda known. What happened, Max, he get some creepie-crawlies in his pubes and you just couldn't take it anymore?"
"Oh, that," Tom replied with a laugh. "No, nothin' like that, boss. I was just startin' to feel out of place around here with all these other hairless guys. Thought I'd see what it's like."
"And?" Malcom asked.
"Not too bad," Tom said. "I'm still getting' used to it, though. I do think trimmin' the shrubbery makes the tree look bigger," he laughed.
"Well, god knows I don't need to do that," Dylan laughed.
"No, you don't," Malcom agreed. "I might consider it though. It wouldn't hurt me in the least to seem a little bigger in that department."
"You're perfect just as you are, Malcom," Dylan said. "But if you decide to make a change, I won't argue about it either."
"Any suggestions, Max?" Malcom asked.
"Well, I rarely actually shave there because of the problem of ingrown hairs. The rest of the body, that doesn't seem to be an issue, but pubic hairs, for some reason, tend to do it more often than not. It could be because of their natural curl, so I just trim them really short."
"Thanks for the advice. I may give it a shot sometime," Malcom replied. "So, Tom, when do you think you'll be starting your new career?"
"Hopefully the week after next. Our contractor is supposed to be coming to paint the boys' other bedroom early next week. Once that's done, the guy who built the new furniture for the boys' rooms and my office is supposed to show up with their furniture first and mine after that. Dylan's new desk won't be ready for a bit, but he still has almost two weeks before he's gonna be ready to join me."
"Sounds cool. Are you anxious to get started?"
"Yeah, I am. While it's been kinda nice to just lounge around and take it easy the past few weeks, my brain's starting to turn to mush. I have to re-engage it at some point, and the sooner the better."
"Well, I wish you both luck with your new venture," Malcom replied.
We talked for the next hour about a little bit of everything and I really liked Malcom. He's kind, witty, very serious about his career and highly intelligent. It didn't hurt that he was very easy on the eyes, also. It may not be politically correct to say it, but, for a man, he was beautiful. I could see how much he loved Dylan and had the feeling the two were going to be very happy together.
"So, Max," Malcom asked, "what exactly do you do that allows you to live in this lap of luxury?"
"I'm an author, Malcom. I had four books that all became bestsellers. I've basically quit writing so I have time to focus on the family I've always wanted. I don't want to be distracted by my writing or have it take time away from the boys. Or Tom, either," I added as I gave him a kiss.
"Don't let him bullshit you, Malcom," Tom interjected. "He started writing again just the other day."
"Yeah, but that's just for the therapist. I have no intention of ever turning that crap into a book."
"If you don't mind me asking, what are you seeing a therapist for? I might be able to help."
"You'll find out soon enough, I guess, since you're gonna be family. I was sexually abused in our family's church a long time ago, but had repressed the memories of all of it until just recently. I'm working with a therapist to help me deal with it."
"Whoa, sorry I asked." He then looked to Dylan and asked, "Wait, is he the one you told me about, the person whose name got leaked by the dude that got killed?"
"Damn it, Malcom," Dylan hissed. "I hadn't told him who gave his name to the paper yet."
"Wait just a damn minute!" I exclaimed. "Barry's the one who did that? That motherfucker. If he wasn't already dead, I'd kill the son-of-a-bitch."
"Yeah, he was the one, Max," Dylan lamented. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but since he was already gone, I didn't think it would make any difference to you."
"Well, I guess it really doesn't, but damn it, I wish I'd had the chance to talk to him, tell him what I really thought about what he did."
"Water over the dam, babe," Tom commented.
"Yeah, I know. So y'all ready to get mugged? I think it's time we join the boys and get some exercise." The four of us left our corner and swam towards the shallow end of the pool. When we could walk, I warned Malcom, "Uh, the boys tend to be a bit grabby when we're in the pool. If that freaks you out, just tell `em to stop."
"Can I grab back?" he asked with an evil grin.
"We'd prefer you didn't. We're trying to teach them some manners and boundaries of what's acceptable and what isn't. I just wanted you to be aware before it happened."
"Gotcha', man." We spent the next half hour roughhousing with the boys and did, indeed, get our workout for the day. I was watching Joey and Alex closely as they attacked poor Malcom and worked him over pretty good. At one point fairly early in their assault, I watched as Malcom gave them a quick talking to and then resumed their play. Since their chat seemed to have the desired effect, I returned my attention to T.J. who was my lone attacker tonight.
At one point, T.J. wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist. I cupped my hands under his behind to help hold him up, burying his stiff poker in my belly. He then leaned in close to my ear and said, "Hey, Dad, can I ask you a question?"
"Any time, T.J. What's up?"
"I know I shouldn't know about this, but I can't help it, ya' know." After a quick nod from me, he looked me square in the eyes and continued. "You and Pops love boys, don't you? I mean, really love boys, in ways you probably shouldn't."
I flushed with shame at T.J. divining this truth about us. I should have been surprised at the question, but knowing his abilities to pick up on things from out of nowhere, I wasn't. Just ashamed we had been so transparent to this young lad. In my mind, I knew it wasn't a matter of if he was going to ask, just when, and that time had just arrived. And in the interest of maintaining open lines of communication with our sons, I gave him an honest answer. "Yes, T.J., we do."
"Yeah, I was pretty sure that's what I picked up."
"Does that bother you?" I asked.
"No, not really. It's kinda like bein' gay isn't it, you can't really control it, can you?"
"No, son, we can't. And while that may be part of who Tom and I are, it doesn't change how we feel about all you guys. We love each and every one of you as our sons. And you should know that we would never do anything with any of you unless you asked."
"Yeah, I know that, too. I haven't told the others what I figured out yet. I'm pretty sure Alex and Joey have a good idea, but Mike and Andy ain't got a clue."
"Thank you for that, I guess," I mumbled.
"Look, I know Joey and Alex have done a few things with you and Pops, sex things, ya' know. And I guess what I wanna know is this; since you guys love boys, do you two wanna do that stuff with me, too?"
"You're right, we have done some things with the twins. But, you need to understand that they have been goading us both since the first night all of you moved in. Does that seem weird to you?"
"Well, yeah, I know they been pushing the issue. And, no, I don't think it's weird if that's what they want. I know you and Pops have never forced them to do something they didn't ask for. And teaching them how to make love to each other was really kinda sweet of you guys. You didn't have to do that, but you did it anyway. To me, it just shows how much you two really care about us, making sure they didn't hurt each other. But back to my question, do you wanna do those things with me?"
"Well, if you'd like to, um, do some things with us, I'd be willing to explore some options. But after what you said in Anna's office the day we first met, I was pretty sure you wouldn't want anything like that to happen."
"Yeah, I was a rotten little shit that day, wasn't I?" he giggled.
"Honest would be more accurate, young man. What were you afraid of that day?"
"That you'd do to me what Olivia's uncle does to her."
"Oh?" I asked, surprise evident in my face. "What's he do?"
"Look, she said she ain't told nobody but me `bout this, but her uncle does sex things with her every time he comes over. I guess she told me since she knew I was queer and probably figured I wouldn't care too much about what happened to a girl. But she was my older sister for a while and I do care about her. I'm scared for her, too. Besides, who's gonna believe me? I'm just some screwed up little pervert kid who likes to suck other boys' dicks in the bathroom at school."
"You're not a screwed up little pervert, you're just who you are. And I'll believe you, T.J. What kinds of things did she say her uncle did?"
"Well, she told me that when he spends the night, after everyone goes to bed, he sneaks into her room, makes her get undressed and he does, too. Then, he licks her you know what and while he's doin' that, he sticks a couple fingers in her, usually one in each hole down there. When he's done getting' her off, he makes her suck his dick and jerk on him `til he comes. And since he doesn't want to leave any sign of what he's doin', he makes her swallow it. That's just sick. She doesn't like it and wants him to stop, but she's afraid if she tells her mom and dad, they'll believe him and not her."
"Oh my god, that's horrible. What's his name?"
"Ralph somethin' or other. I don't know his last name. I remember his first name `cause Olivia always said that her uncle Ralph makes her want to ralph."
"I bet he does. Thanks for telling me about this. I'll pass it on to Dylan so he can check into it. We need to help protect Olivia and keep him from doing it again."
"But if you tell Uncle Dylan, and Ralph gets in trouble, she'll know I told you!"
"That may be, but would you rather let her uncle go on hurting her?"
"Hell no! They should cut his balls off for doin' that shit to her."
"Good, I'm glad you feel that way. Forcing other people into sexual activity is always wrong, remember? We'll talk to Dylan before he and Malcom leave tonight and let him take it from there."
"Thanks, Dad. I knew you'd help. I've wanted to tell somebody `bout it for a long time, but she made me promise not to say nothin' to nobody, or she'd cut my balls off, and I sure didn't want that."
I snickered along with T.J. and said, "No, I bet not."
"Now, back to me for a second. If I asked you and Pops to do sex things with me, would you really?"
"Only if you that's what you truly want, buddy. We will never ask you to do something. It has to be your decision and you'll have to ask us. Understood?"
"Oh, yeah, cool," he mumbled as he slid his body up and down my torso a few times before I felt his hardness twitch against my belly several times and his entire body quiver with delight as he came. "Thanks, Dad. I love you," he whispered as he leaned in and kissed me on the lips. "Talk to Pops, please. I really want to find out if it's as good as Joey and Alex say it is."
"Okay, buddy. We'll see what we can work out. You ready for a snack?"
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" T.J. laughed.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes. Let's round up the other rascals and get outta here." I carried T.J. to the steps out of the pool, collecting the other five along the way. After a quick swipe of the towel over their bodies, they hustled off to their rooms to get cleaned up. As the four adults entered the house, I offered our shower to Dylan and Malcom while Tom and I steered ourselves towards the kitchen to get some brownies served up and ice cream ready to dip. I was just dropping the first dip onto a brownie when Andy, Mike and T.J. joined us. I directed them to the table for dessert since the four adults would be joining them tonight. Tom delivered each plate as I put the ice cream on it and we were soon rejoined by Alex, Joey and Logan with Dylan and Malcom not far behind them. Once everyone had their dessert, Tom and I finally joined everyone else at the table.
"Dylan, I wanted to ask how things are going with the investigation at the church and everyone that's been arrested."
"Well, with the FBI's assistance, we've finally finished collecting evidence at the church and allowed the membership to have their building back. Of course, with all the pictures and other materials we have from the file cabinets and computers, it seems unlikely that DNA will be needed to prosecute these people. The remaining members have promised to fill that hellhole with concrete and seal the room permanently. They can't do it until all the court cases are done, but it will happen."
"Good, that means I still have the chance to see it again. When I'm ready for it, that is."
"I still don't know what you hope to gain by going back in there, Max," Dylan commented.
"I do," Malcom offered. "Visiting the scene of his abuse under his own control for once will allow Max to take back the power that was taken from him by his abusers. It's not that much different from a horse rider getting back on the horse after he's been thrown or fallen off his mount. It's conquering that fear and being able to move on."
"Exactly, Malcom," I agreed. "That's the perfect analogy for why I need to do it. I had a hard time explaining it to Tom so it made sense."
"Well, when you're ready for that step in your recovery, let me know and I'll go with you, just in case."
"Deal. Thanks for the offer." I returned my attention to Dylan and continued my interrogation. "What about the people you've arrested? What's happening with them?"
"All but two have been moved to a federal lockup until they're ready for trial. After hearing the scope of their operation, all the judges they've been in front of have denied them bail. The judges all assume they're serious flight risks and they don't want to give them the chance to disappear."
"And what about the money? Has any of that been located?"
"Some has, mostly in offshore banks in countries not fond of sharing their client's information. I know the FBI is going to be pulling out all the stops to get that money back here so it can be used to assist the victims of this ring, but it's not going to be easy. They're hoping when the banks are told of the source of the funds they're holding, they'll release it, but I'm not going to hold my breath for that to happen."
"Now, what's going on with Frank and Iris?"
Dylan gave a little chuckle before answering. "Well, Frank has been returned to the jail after his little trip to the hospital for his, uh, procedure. Unfortunately for him, he lost both of `em."
"Lost both what, Uncle Dylan?" Alex queried.
"His testicles, boys." All six boys cringed and grabbed their crotches as if they could keep the same fate from befalling them. "Iris did some pretty severe damage and the doctor said complete removal was the only logical and prudent solution."
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. That bastard doesn't deserve to have his balls, anyway. What about the money they owe the hotline?"
"Thanks to your attorney's fine help, the lien's been placed on their property and any other assets we can locate. It'll take a while, but the money will eventually get to them."
"And what about their trials, when are those going to happen?"
"Who knows?" Dylan answered. "That's all in the hands of the lawyers, now. As the FBI is sifting through the files from the church, they're returning the Mueller's files to us so we have them available when the time comes. We've assigned two people in our department whose sole task is tracking down the kids they abused and setting up interviews with them and their parents. We've gotten back about forty files from the Fibbies so far and located about twenty-five to thirty of them. We're working from the most recent backward assuming the more recent victims will be easier to locate since they're most likely children still going to the church with their parents. So far, that's been the case."
"And what's been the reaction to their kids having been abused from those parents you've talked to?"
"Pretty much the same as yours, Max. Shock, anger, disgust, rage, denial, guilt. The few who didn't believe us initially were shown one of the pictures of their child and they finally realized what we were telling them was true. It has not been a fun job this week."
"No, I'm sure it hasn't. Any idea why none of these kids had said anything to their parents? That's about the only thing I really don't remember, why I never told my mom and dad about what was happening."
"The only excuse we've heard from the ones we've talked to is they were all threatened with some form of violence to either themselves or their family. Beatings, broken bones and even death threats have been used to keep them from talking. It's been a surprisingly effective deterrent. It's also possible that some type of drug like GHB was used sometimes. We just don't know for sure."
"I still have a hard time grasping this has been going on for over thirty years and over 3,000 kids and not one of us has ever said anything to anybody."
"Or, maybe some did and their parents didn't believe them or they moved to get away from it. There's so many possibilities, it'll take months, maybe years, to figure it all out.
"What's the FBI saying about the people they've located so far?" Tom asked.
"Pretty much the same as what we've found. The one thing they've discovered is that about two to three percent of the victims have committed suicide, some of them kids. All in all, a rather depressing statistic. We've been lucky so far that none of the Muellers victims have taken that route. From what Agent Fix has told me, they plan to charge the abusers with murder or manslaughter in those cases where their victims took their lives."
"Well, it sounds like progress is being made. Thanks for telling us what you know, Dylan."
"I figure since you started all this, Max, if anyone deserves to know what's going on, it's you."
"Oh, I didn't start it, those animals did that. But I'm glad to be the one who stopped them."
Everyone had finished their desserts while we talked and the boys took care of the cleanup, as usual. With their task completed, we shuffled them off to bed after they had a chance to give Malcom and Dylan goodnight hugs and kisses. While Tom and I followed in their footsteps, the other two lovers settled onto the love seat in the living room. We popped in on Alex, Joey and Logan first to find all three pleasuring each other. After forcing them to take a break, we managed to share our hugs, kisses, goodnights and love yous before they returned to their activities and we left to say goodnight to the other three boys. Andy, Mike and T.J. were curled together and waiting for their covers to be pulled up. These three always looked so sweet and innocent as they waited for us.
Again, after sharing in our nightly ritual, we turned to leave when I heard T.J. whisper, "Don't forget to talk to Pops." With my reassurance I would, we turned out the light and closed the door.
Walking back down the hall to the living room, Tom asked, "What are you supposed to talk to me about?"
"After Dylan and Malcom are gone, okay?"
With a quick nod of acknowledgement, we rejoined the other two and got comfortable in our chairs. "Dylan, I hate to bring up more work for you, especially since your time on the job is short, but when we were in the pool, T.J. told me about something you need someone to check out."
"What's that?"
"He told me his former foster sister is being abused by her uncle."
"Well, shit, what's this world comin' to? You can't hardly turn around anymore without hearing a new horror story. Give me some names and I'll have Derek start work on it first thing Monday.
"The girl's name is Olivia, but I didn't think to ask her age or if she has other siblings. The parent's names are Nancy and George Hamilton and the uncle's first name is Ralph. T.J. didn't know his last name so I don't know to which side of the family he's related."
"We'll find out Monday, don't worry. Now, to steer the conversation away from work for once, I wanted to say thanks to Tom for taking the initiative to find Malcom. When I asked for your help finding his sorry ass the other day, you'd already beat me to the punch and arranged tonight, hadn't you?"
Tom smiled widely and answered, "You bet I did, we first talked to Malcom about gettin' you two back together, what, three weeks ago, wasn't it?"
"Just about that," Malcom agreed. "It was before Joey and Alex's birthday, I remember."
"Well, aren't you all just a bunch of sneaky bastards?"
"Well, thanks, boss, that's about the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Look, guys, we should get out of here," Dylan offered. "Malcom's got a long drive back home to Bloomington and ..."
"Oh, no I don't, I'm going to your house tonight, bubba," Malcom interrupted. "If you want me to, that is? We got some serious catchin' up to do."
"That's great. I was hopin' you'd say that, but I didn't want to assume."
"Yeah, all I gotta do is find my clothes. They're in Joey and Alex's bedroom."
"Just sneak in quietly, Malcom, I'm sure they won't wake up."
"Okay, be right back." Malcom disappeared down the hall and returned in a few minutes, clothes in hand and jaw dragging the floor.
"You okay there?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah, just fine," Malcom muttered. "Just wasn't prepared for the wild three-way going on in there. Damn near gave me a freakin' heart attack. Y'all didn't warn me they was already screwin' the daylights outta each other."
"Whoops, sorry, Malcom. Didn't expect you to discover that tonight."
"Those three are way ahead of where Dylan and I were at that age."
"You gonna follow me to my house or you wanna ride with me?" Dylan asked.
"I'll just follow you, man. No sense having to come back out here to get my car tomorrow."
"Then let's hit the road." We all headed to the front door and before I opened the door, Dylan gave Tom and me a big hug and thanked us again for arranging his reunion with Malcom. Malcom gave us both hugs also and shared a similar sentiment as Dylan's.
As they stepped out into the chilly, dark night, I heard Malcom ask, "You sure it's okay to drive home like this?"
"You bet, I do it all the time," Dylan answered with a chuckle. "Just pull in the garage beside me and nobody'll know the difference." After closing the door, Tom and I began laughing our butts off.
"Well, that was a fun evening," Tom commented as we headed to our bedroom to finally get our shower and get into bed ourselves. "We should have guests more often."
"Dude, I've had more people in this house in the last six weeks than in the last six years."
"It's good for you, you know. You really need to get out once in a while and enjoy life."
"Yeah, I know. We're going out tomorrow, though, aren't we?"
"A funeral for a dirty cop hardly counts," Tom countered.
"What do you know about Barry's wife and kids?"
"Helen's kind of mousey and timid. His kids seem to be okay, though. Much more outgoing than their mom is. I'm kinda worried about his son, though. Daniel's fourteen or fifteen and I think he was starting to get into some trouble, hanging out with the wrong group of kids at school. That's what Barry said, anyway. I don't know how much I believe of what Barry had to say, though."
"I want you to introduce me to them tomorrow."
"You sure about that? After what Barry did to you, I figured the last people you'd want to meet would be his family."
"Hey, they didn't know what he was doing. I don't have anything against Helen for Barry's actions."
"We'll see, I guess." As we crawled into bed, Tom asked, "Now, what did T.J. want you to talk to me about?"
"This shouldn't be much of a surprise, but he told me he knows we're boy lovers. He also knows about what's happened between you, me and the twins."
"Oh, shit. I was afraid of that happening."
"It's not a bad thing, hon. He said he thought us teaching Joey and Alex how to make love to each other without hurting themselves was sweet."
"So, what's he gonna do about it?"
"Nothing. He said Mike and Andy don't know and he's not going to tell them, either."
"That's good, I guess. As long as he knows not to say anything to anyone else."
"He's well aware of that. Now, here's the kicker. He wants us to include him sometime."
"Are you shittin' me? What'd you say?"
"No, I'm not shittin' you. And I told him that if that's what he truly wants, we'd talk about it and come up with something. That if anything is to happen, he has to ask for it."
"Do you think he's really ready for it?"
"Him?" I asked, "What about us being ready for it? I'm still trying to process Alex and Joey wanting to be with us sexually. I never thought about T.J. asking for the same thing. He says he wants to find out if it's as good as Alex and Joey say it is."
"And now that he has asked, what are we gonna do?"
"I don't really see how we can tell him no without somehow hurting his feelings. Not after what we've done with the twins. I wouldn't want him to think we love Joey and Alex more because we share more with them, would you?"
"No, that wouldn't be fair to T.J., I guess. I'm cool with it if you are, and I'm assuming you are."
"You know I am."
As we finally curled up in bed together, we shared a tender kiss and an `I love you' before Tom laid his head on my shoulder and I held him tightly as we drifted off into a deep sleep after our busy day.
I pulled in the garage and shut off the car. Malcom followed me in and parked beside me. Once both cars were inside, I punched the button to close the door so we could get out of our cars. As we headed into the house, Malcom said, "Man, that was freakin' cool. I never drove naked before, and you say you do that all the time."
"Well, often enough I guess. Especially after I've been to Max and Tom's. Since I can pull right in the garage, I don't see any reason to be dressed from their house to here."
"Are you sure you're a cop, man?" Malcom asked with a laugh.
"For another week and a half, I am. You want something to drink?" I asked as we passed through the kitchen.
"I wouldn't say no to a beer, if you got any."
"Two beers, comin' right up." I grabbed a couple of Budweisers from the fridge and led the way to the living room where we settled on opposite ends of the couch. "So, really, Malcom, how the hell ya' been?"
"Lonely as fuck, man. Since the old man don't care nothin' `bout me, I obviously can't go home. I don't miss his sorry ass none, but I do miss momma. But she ain't gonna stand up to him, either. And only god knows where the fuck Jackie is these days. I ain't heard shit outta her since I split."
"I'm sorry to hear all that, especially not bein' able to see your mom. She was always a sweet lady and I loved her as much as I loved my own mom. And a hell of a cook, too. I always loved goin' to your house for supper."
"You ain't lyin' `bout that, man. I lost twenty pounds in the first six months after I moved to Bloomington. How's your mom and dad?"
"They're all right, I guess. I don't see `em as much as I should. Which is stupid since they still live in the old `hood. I just never seem to have time during the day to drop by and visit. Hell, they don't even know I've quit the job, yet. They're gonna freak when they find out."
"We're gonna have to fix that, man. What do you think they'll do when they see me again?"
"You know my mom, she'll be happy as hell you're back. Dad, who knows how he'll react? I'm pretty sure he liked you, but he's kinda hard to read sometimes."
"They know you're gay, don't they?"
"Of course, they do. I told them right after you disappeared. Mom kept askin' why I never seemed happy after y'all split and I finally told her I loved you just to get her to shut up. Her first response was she loved and missed you, too. I had to tell her I was gay just to get her to really understand how much I loved you, Malcom. She was surprised as hell, but didn't give me no shit about it either. The old man took a little longer to come around, but he's cool with it, now."
"Man, wish my `rents were more like yours. So why did you become a cop? I never understood that."
"It just seemed like the thing to do. I wanted to help people and that seemed like the best way I could do it. I thought about law school, but didn't figure I had the brains to get through that insanity, so cop was the next best thing. I joined when I was twenty and while I'm a few years short of bein' able to draw my full pension, I'll take the seventy-five percent and be fine. The house is paid for and so is the car, so I don't have any serious monthly bills. Your turn, why'd you become a college prof?"
"Kinda the same reason you became a cop, I wanted to help people. I figured teaching was the best way I could do it. Cop was never an option for me since I hate guns. In the short time I lived in Chicago, I saw too many damn people I knew get killed for no goddam reason. It's a lot safer in Bloomington, let me tell ya'. Big question for ya' now; you seen any other dudes since my old man fucked us over."
"There's never been another guy who could take your place, Malcom, and you know it. What about you?"
"Only in my dreams, man, and none of them could ever hold a candle to you."
"So, were you serious at Max's about us gettin' married?"
"Damn right I am. I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't fuckin' serious."
"Then why the hell you sittin' at the other end of the couch, bro?"
" 'Cause if I was sittin' next to you like I really want to do, we wouldn't be wastin' our time talkin'."
"Then why don't you slide your cute little ass over here and show me what we would be doin'." Malcom stood up, walked over to me and crawled into my lap facing me. He took my head in his hands, pulled me closer and kissed me so softly I nearly fainted. On the second kiss, he slipped his tongue into my mouth and I hungrily returned the favor. Oh, man, it had been so long since we've been able to show and share our love, I nearly came right there on the couch as Malcom assaulted my mouth with his and ground his sweet ass into my lap. When we finally broke a moment for air, I moaned, "Oh, god, how I've missed you."
"This shitty house got a fuckin' bed in it or am I gonna have to fuck you right here on the goddam couch?" Malcom cracked.
"Damn right it does. You wanna see it?"
"God, I thought you'd never ask. Let's go."
I led Malcom to my bedroom and asked along the way, "You think you can still take me, lover?"
"Damn right I can. I may have been chaste for twenty years, but I've found some accessories that are close to the right size. Just be gentle."
"Always." We fell into bed together and let nature guide us as we began our long journey to make up for lost time.
Sunday morning slowly creeped into existence and made itself fully known as six wild monkeys attacked us in our sleep. As I levered myself upright, I asked, "What happened to knocking and waiting for an answer?"
"We did knock, Dad ...," Joey replied.
"... but you didn't answer ...," Alex continued.
"... so, we came on in," T.J. finished off the thought.
"Fine we're awake now, so give us a few minutes and we'll be out, okay?" Tom answered.
"Scoot on outta here, boys," I said. As they turned to leave, I added, "T.J., one second."
He came back to the bed and asked, "Yeah, Dad?"
"Pops and I talked last night and we've agreed to grant your request."
"Really!? Cool! When can we do it?"
"Well, that's a little trickier to figure out. It's not like we can just leave the other five alone during the day without raising suspicions," I commented.
"And trying to arrange something at night might seem weird to Mike and Andy if you're not in bed with them," Tom added.
"I'll deal with them, so don't worry about it," T.J. volunteered. "Can we do it tonight?"
I looked to Tom and after a quick nod from him, I answered, "I guess so."
T.J. jumped on the bed and pulled us into a hug, whispering, "Thanks, Dads. I can't wait." As he backed off to join his brothers in the kitchen, it was impossible to miss his stiff two-and-a-half inch cocklet standing at attention. It didn't seem to faze him one bit as he jumped off the bed and skipped his way out of the bedroom.
"Christ, I hope he's not hard like that all day long. We still have a funeral to go to."
"I'm sure he'll be fine, babe. At least he knows how to deal with it, unlike poor Eric who had no clue."
"Yeah, you're right, he's probably taking care of it right now," I commented as I crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Tom was making his way into the bathroom as I was leaving and we paused to give each other a kiss. As we did, Tom's stiff member grazed my flaccid one. "Uh, is that a gun in your pocket, or you just happy to see me?"
"Both," he grunted.
"Later, big guy. We have six hungry boys to feed."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Be there in a minute."
I continued to the kitchen to figure out something to eat and was not surprised to see T.J. was missing in action. "Did you guys see T.J. wander through?"
"Yeah, Dad, he ran thataway with a bouncin' boner," Joey answered with a giggle while pointing in the direction to their bedrooms.
"Okay, just wondered. How would guys like some cinnamon rolls this morning?"
"Sounds yummy, Dad. You gonna make `em from scratch?" Mike asked.
"Not hardly, young man. Pillsbury is gonna help me out today." Tom arrived just as I popped the first can of rolls open and he started on the second one. After loading two baking sheets with four cans of rolls, we sat back to wait the twenty minutes for them bake while the boys set the table. Simple as they are to make, it's hard to beat Pillsbury cinnamon rolls for an easy breakfast. The boys made short work of our morning meal, first cleaning off the platters we'd put the rolls on and then cleaning up the table afterwards. We'd decided while eating to take it easy this morning, so the boys settled into the theater to watch a movie while Tom and I busied ourselves making sure each one had something decent to wear to the funeral this afternoon.
As the clock announced noon, we all got ready to leave home for the afternoon. Our first stop was going to be the Texas Roadhouse for lunch to have a little celebration of the news about us being able to adopt Andy and that all the adoptions were happening in two short months. The eight of us turned a few heads as we walked in and were finally shown to our table. Whether it was the way we were dressed or the fact it was two men with six boys, we attracted more than our fair share of attention.
When our server finally greeted us, he started with, "Welcome to the Roadhouse, gentlemen. My name is Patrick and I'll be taking care of you today. It's a pleasure to have y'all with us today, Mr. Sanders. May I start you off with some drinks and an appetizer, perhaps?"
"Wait, you know who I am?" I asked.
"But, of course, sir. Besides giving your name at the door, I would recognize my favorite author anywhere."
I turned to Tom and whispered, "See, this is why I don't like to go out much."
"I thought you'd be used to it by now," he whispered back.
"Used to it, yes. But liking it is something entirely different."
"You'll have to forgive Mr. Sanders, Patrick. He really would like to fly below the radar."
"My apologies, sir. If you'd prefer, I'll get another server to take care of you."
"No, that's all right," I acquiesced. After a quick discussion amongst us, we settled on our drinks and the Cactus Blossom fried onion. Patrick returned shortly with our drinks, bread, butter, and the onion. The boys dug in almost before the plate hit the table. Before he could disappear, I asked, "Did you manage to keep all your fingers there?"
"Oh, yes sir. I've mastered the art of Cactus Blossom delivery and still have all my digits," he answered while wiggling all ten fingers as proof.
"I can see where that would be a handy skill working here," Tom chuckled.
"You have no idea how much so. I've been stabbed with forks before as some people just can't wait," Patrick laughed in response. "Now, have we settled on our meals or do you need a few more minutes?" After telling him our selections, he disappeared into the kitchen to turn in our order.
"Man, I had no idea you were really this weird about going out. You haven't been like this when we've gone shopping," Tom commented.
"Well, that's only because I can be a bit more anonymous there since I tend to dress down a bit. Can't really do that today, can I?"
"Hey, nobody said you had to go to Barry's funeral with me. You volunteered for that."
"I know. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. The man sold me out to the newspaper for a few bucks, why should I go help send him off?"
"Because you care about Helen and her kids. You do, don't you?"
"Of course, I do." I finally looked back at the table and realized the boys had eaten almost the entire onion. "Um, looks like we better grab some while we can," I commented. "I don't think these guys plan on leaving us any." Tom and I managed to get a couple bites for each of us before it was all gone. When Patrick brought our salads and more bread, he whisked away the empty onion plate. "You guys better save some room for your meal," I said to the boys as Tom and I started on our salads.
"Whatever, Dad," Joey moaned. "Those rolls at breakfast were good, but they didn't last long. We're starvin'."
"Well, your lunch will be here soon, so hang in there another minute or two, okay?" With nods from all six, they stopped munching on the bread while they patiently waited for their food to magically appear. It turned out to be a short wait as two minutes later, Patrick was headed to our table with a helper to deliver our meals.
When everybody had the correct meal in front of them, Patrick asked, "Is there anything else you need?"
"I can't think of anything, Patrick. It looks like it's all here. Thanks."
"If you change your mind, just wave me down." With that, he moved on to his next table.
The table got rather quiet as we dug into our food. It quickly became quite obvious the fuel tanks on the six eating machines had reached empty before we arrived because their plates were emptied in no time. Tom and I continued to work on our own meals as the boys chatted and doodled on their placemats. When we were close to being done, I told the boys, "Why don't you guys visit the restroom and wash your hands before we go?" The six got up as one and disappeared around the corner. In a few minutes, we could hear gales of laughter emanating from the restroom and other diners were starting to look our direction, curiosity etched across their faces.
Tom stood and said, "I got this." He turned the corner and as I heard the restroom door creak open, the laughter suddenly died. One by one, each young man came back to the table, red-faced with embarrassment. When Tom finally took his seat again, he commented, "These goofballs were playing with the hand-dryer. It's one of those new jet type things that dries your hands real fast, but has so much wind speed it puts a two-inch round dimple in your skin. When I went in, Joey had his shirt pulled up and had the thing blowing on his belly. He looked like he hadn't eaten for a week." I couldn't help but snort in laughter as the image developed in my mind.
"What the heck did you say to them?"
"Not a word, I just gave them the look. That shut `em down pretty quickly."
"You're gonna have to teach me that look if it works that well."
"Huh-uh," he muttered as he shook his head, "You have to ask my mom to teach you. She's the master, I'm just the pupil, although I seem to have learned my lessons well."
With all of us finally done eating, I flagged down Patrick to let him know we were ready to pay and move on. When he came back to our table, he was followed by another gentleman. When they stopped, Patrick introduced the man. "Mr. Sanders, this is our manager, Mr. Crawford. He has something he'd like to say."
"Thank you, Patrick. You may carry on," Mr. Crawford said in dismissal. He then turned to back us, leaned over the table and quietly said, "Patrick tells me you're Maxwill Sanders, the author. Is that correct?"
"Well, yes," I admitted, looking down to the table in disgust and embarrassment.
"Then, that must also mean you the man who helped bring a halt to some rather disturbing events at a local church. Would that be a fair connection to make?"
"I suppose if I denied it, you wouldn't believe me."
"Well, no, I wouldn't. Not after reading the paper the other day," he grinned. "I, actually, we want to say thank you for what you've done, for me, several of my employees and the entire town. I am a member of that church, as are several of my employees. Fortunately for all of us, our children were much too young to have attracted the attention of those involved and we all want to thank you for making our church a safe place for us to continue to worship. And since mere words cannot express the deepness of our gratitude for your bravery and sacrifice by coming forward, I'm pleased to let you know that today's visit and all future visits to this establishment, for the next year, are on the house. In short, your money is no good here, Mr. Sanders."
"Mr. Crawford, that's not necessary. I am more than capable of paying for our meals."
"Mr. Sanders, I'm well aware you could probably buy this restaurant five times over, but still, your meal today and for the next year are free. And I expect you to take advantage of that."
"Well, Mr. Crawford, I accept your gift and say thanks to you and your crew for a fine meal. Can I at least leave a tip for Patrick?"
"Yes, I'll allow you to do that. Again, thanks for your service to your community. We look forward to having you and your family back soon." With that, he turned and headed for the kitchen.
I flipped a couple of hundred-dollar bills on the table for Patrick, then stood up and muttered, "Let get the hell outta here." I led the way to the front door, six boys behind me and Tom bringing up the rear, with the other diners staring at the parade, again. As we rounded the corner towards the entryway, we found all the employees standing there, clapping lightly and nodding their heads in acknowledgment as we passed by and the rest of the patrons struggled and stretched to see the cause of the brouhaha. When we were all finally outside, I turned to Tom and said, "We are never coming back to this place as long as I live. I have never been so goddam embarrassed in my life."
"Max, calm down."
"Don't fuckin' tell me to fuckin' calm down. I didn't go to the cops to get free meals for a year or any other damn prize or whatever the fuck they wanna call it."
Tom grabbed my arm, jerking me to halt and spinning me around in the middle of the parking lot as the boys continued on to the car. "Max, listen to me. Mr. Crawford giving us a free meal wasn't a `prize', as you so crassly put it. It was a man and his employees showing their appreciation for something you've done, for making their church a safe place to take their kids. That's it. If you decide you don't want to come back here again, that's fine, but you'd be spitting in all their faces by not accepting their gift."
"I don't want their goddam gift," I vented. "Get the boys in the car and get ready to go, I'll be right back." I walked back into the restaurant and upon reaching the greeting counter inside, I asked to see Mr. Crawford. When he came out of the kitchen, he was visibly surprised to see me standing there. "May I talk to you outside, Mr. Crawford? Please and thank you."
"Certainly." After we stepped outside and moved away from the door, he asked, "Is there a problem Mr. Sanders?"
"While I can appreciate the thought behind what you did today, I can't allow it to continue. My free meals stop today. Understood?"
"If that's your wish, sir, I'll, of course, comply."
"Good. Now, how many guests are you serving right now?"
"We're pretty full, so close to two hundred diners."
"And what's the average cost per person?"
"Between fifteen and twenty dollars, why?"
"So, two hundred meals at twenty bucks a pop, that's 4,000 dollars. Here's what you're going to do to make up for the way you needlessly embarrassed me and my family." I pulled my wallet out and fished out a credit card. "You're going to take this card, go back inside and enter a charge for 5,000 dollars on it. Bring the receipt to me out here and I'll sign it. Everyone inside right now is getting a free meal, on me, as my thank you to them for not embarrassing the hell out of me. And be quick about it, I have to get to a damn funeral."
"Yes, sir, I'll be right back."
True to his word, Mr. Crawford returned in just over a minute with the receipt for me to sign. He handed the receipt, a menu and a pen to me so I could do so. After signing it, I handed everything back to him and said, "Thank you. Now, none of the people whose meal I just paid for is to know it was me. Make up whatever bullshit story you want, but if my name is attached to it any way and I hear about it later, you'll never see me or any of my family in here again. Furthermore, if we ever do come back, I expect to be treated just like every other customer, no special treatment. Again, I appreciate the thought behind what you and your crew wanted to do, but I can't accept it just for doing the right thing. If you'd like to honor me in some way, then once a week for the next year, surprise some other unsuspecting guest and their family to a free meal. Preferably someone with a big family that looks like their dinner might blow their budget that week. Think you can do that?"
"Yes, Mr. Sanders. Please accept my apologies for what happened today."
"Apology accepted. Now, I've got to get going." I turned and hustled to the car so we could still be on time for the funeral. Tom weaved his way thought the Sunday afternoon traffic to get us to the church on time. With the service supposed to start at two, it was going to be close. With Mario Andretti in a Tom costume at the wheel, though, we managed to arrive at the church with ten minutes to spare. As soon as Tom shut off the engine, the boys were out the doors and running for the front door like the devil himself was nipping at their heels. Fortunately, they waited outside for us to join them so we could enter as a single group.
At one point during the service, during the recitation of the Lord's Prayer, we were asked to hold hands with each other, so there the eight of us were, Tom on one end of the pew, me on the other end with the six boys between us, silently holding hands. A few minutes later in the service we were asked to `offer each other the sign of peace.' Not having a clue what they were talking about, we watched other people who we assumed to be regular members of the congregation and discovered they were either shaking hands, hugging or kissing each other on the cheek. So, again, we followed suit sharing handshakes, hugs and cheek kisses up and down the pew, the boys quietly giggling as the weirdness moved from Tom through all six boys and ended with me. Malcom and Dylan got their wires a bit crossed up and kissed each other on the lips instead of their cheeks, causing the rest of his people from his department to giggle a bit. They received some rather negative glances from other people at the service, mostly because of the giggling, I assumed, but it could also have been from the two black men kissing each other on the lips.
The whole thing was ridiculous, in my mind anyway. And once it was over, I was thanking my lucky stars that I lived my life by using common sense and didn't kowtow to the ridiculous beliefs followed by this group of sheep. As we waited for the procession to the cemetery to be ready to leave, we stood on the sidewalk in front of the church where we were soon joined by Dylan and Malcom. Both had wide smiles on their faces as they held hands and gave us all hugs.
"We trust you two had a fun night," Tom cracked when the hugs were done.
"More fun than should be legal," Malcom retorted.
"Did you pick a date to make it official, yet?" I asked.
"Well, we talked about it a little bit when we weren't otherwise occupied," Dylan started, "and seeing as we want to make sure you guys can be there, we've pretty much ruled out May. We know you've got a busy month. Looks like we're gonna shoot for early June."
"That sounds great, guys. You can be sure we'll be there."
"Us, too," Alex added.
"I should hope so," Malcom replied. "Wouldn't be the same without you boys to celebrate with us."
We soon saw Helen and her kids coming out the front door of the church, followed by the casket. "Well, looks like we're about to move, better get in the car folks," Dylan commented. We headed for our car while Dylan and Malcom headed for theirs. Once everyone was loaded up and ready to go, the Sherriff's Department blocked the street and the hearse made a U-turn on Sangamon Avenue to begin the slow trek to Oak Ridge Cemetery. We fell in line about half-way back in the procession. Once at the cemetery, Malcom joined us while Dylan moved to the hearse to lead the group of pallbearers to the open grave. We dutifully followed along and were soon surrounding the site that had been prepared that morning. The boys were in awe as we passed by Abraham Lincoln's tomb on the way to Barry's gravesite and they made us promise to come back some day so they could tour the tomb itself.
The service at the gravesite was thankfully much shorter than the one at the church and in less than twenty minutes, it was time to leave. Or so I thought. Since none of the boys had ever been to a funeral before, they wanted to stay and watch the workers lower the casket into the ground. We had them sit in the seats recently vacated by Helen and her family so they could do that while the four adults moved off about forty feet to talk quietly. As luck would have it, Helen and her kids passed by us on the way to the limo for the ride home.
She saw us and stepped over, placing a hand on Tom's arm. "Oh, Tom, thanks for coming. I wasn't sure if you'd be here since you've left the department. I'm so glad you survived your incident. It's too bad Barry didn't have your luck."
"Of course, I'm here, Helen. I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Thanks for saying that Tom, but I'm getting awfully tired of hearing it. I can't wait for the day to come when someone just wishes for me to have a good day, again."
"How are the kids doing?" Tom asked.
"About like you'd expect. Shocked, depressed, don't want to eat, don't want to play. All they do is mope around all day and night. Not that I'm that much better in that regard, mind you."
"There will be better days ahead, Helen. It may be a while, but you'll all get there."
"I hope so. May I ask who you've brought with you?"
"Of course, please forgive my bad manners, Helen. This is my fiancé, Max Sanders."
"It's nice to meet you, Helen. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances. If there's anything we can do for you, please let us know."
"That's very kind of you, Max. But, I must say I find it odd that you would be here after what my husband did. I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him his failures as a responsible man."
"Already done, Helen."
"Thank you, Max. That means a lot to me." Our boys finally ran over and rejoined us. "Oh, my," Helen said in surprise. "Who are all these young men?"
"These are our sons, Helen," Tom answered. Tom introduced them as he placed a hand on their shoulder or top of their head. "This is Joey, T.J., Mike, Alex, Andy and Logan. Logan is a friend of Joey and Alex's and he's just staying with us for a while."
"My, oh, my. Men getting married and having sons. How the world is changing. I want you both to know that while I may be a catholic, one of their teachings I absolutely despise is their vitriol towards gays. I believe as long as two people love each other, it's nobody else's business. I wish you all the best of luck in the future. I think you are going to make a very lovely family."
"Thank you, Helen," I replied. "That's kind of you to say."
"Well, look, I really must be going. That stupid limo from the funeral home is being charged by the hour and I really don't want to keep it any longer than I have to. When you have time, I'd like it if you could drop by the house and visit. I feel my days are going to be rather long and lonely now."
"We'll do that, Helen," Tom answered. She patted Tom's arm, shook my hand and hugged all the boys before she turned to join her own kids for their sad ride home.
"Looks like it's time for us to be moving along, also, don't you think?" I asked. "What do you think about dropping by mom and dad's while we're in town?"
"Sure, why not?" Tom answered while the boys all cheered at the unexpected detour.
We turned towards our car and found Dylan and Malcom headed towards their car, also. We picked up our pace so we could catch them and say our goodbyes to them before moving on with our day.
"Dylan, Malcom, wait up," I called out, bringing them to a stop. When we were all together again, I added, "So, what happens with you two now?"
"I get to go back home to Bloomington and finish out the school year while also putting out feelers for a job down here," Malcom answered.
"And I get to go back to an empty house and be bored and lonely until he can move down here permanently," Dylan added.
"You're always welcome at our house, boss," Tom volunteered. "Not much chance of you being either bored or lonely there."
"Good point. But soon enough, I'll be out there every day as we get things going with our new jobs. I'm looking forward to it."
"Us, too, Dylan," I said. "We're glad last night worked out so well with you guys. We were a little apprehensive, but still felt we were doing a good thing. Guess we were right," I chuckled.
"Right on the money, Max. We can't thank you guys enough for bringing us back together."
"Yeah, we waited way too long to do it ourselves. Thanks for kickin' us both in the ass," Malcom added.
With hugs all around and a lot of goodbyes, we finally split up and went our separate ways. After the short drive across town, we pulled up in front of mom and dad's house and climbed back out of the car. The boys grabbed their packs and ran up to the porch, ringing the bell before Tom and I could join them. The two of us had just joined the boys when the front door opened to reveal Dad standing there, wrapped in a towel.
"Hey, guys, come on in," he greeted us as he stood back and held the door open.
"Uh, we're not interrupting anything, are we, Dad," I asked as I stepped inside.
"What? Oh, you mean the towel. No, your mom and I were just enjoying some comfort this afternoon. Didn't want to scare off anybody by answering the door nude. Although, if it had been the Jehovah's Witnesses on our porch, I wouldn't have bothered with the towel. Probably would've sent them right on out of the neighborhood," he chuckled. "Rose!" Dad yelled, "It's okay to come out, it's Max, Tom and the boys. C'mon in and make yourselves at home, guys," he added as he closed the door, pulled the towel from his waist and sat back down in his favorite chair.
Mom came out of the hallway, nude, of course, and proceeded to give us all hugs. She had a hard time getting hugs from the boys as they were all busy getting undressed. Though we'd talked about it before and had even been nude with Bill and Estelle, this was first time I'd been around mom and dad when they were nude. And for some odd reason, I was feeling a bit uncomfortable about it. Maybe it's just because they're my parents. But then I remembered Tom saying the first few minutes he was nude with his parents, it felt a little weird to him, too. Not wanting to be the only clothed sticks in the mud, we finally relented and joined the rest of the family.
"So, who's the new lad?" Dad asked. "Last I knew, you only have five boys."
"Mom, Dad, this is Logan Campbell. He's a friend of Joey and Alex's from school. He's going to be staying with us for a while as his dad deals with some problems. Logan, my mom and dad."
"Hi there, nice to meet ya'," Logan said with a little wave.
"Good to meet you, too, Logan," Mom replied.
"Now that we've finally gotten naked together, son, I can see why you fell for Tom," Dad cracked. "He sure puts us to shame,"
"Really, old man? You just couldn't resist, could you?"
"Nope," he laughed. "Whatever floats your boat, I guess. How `bout it, Rose?"
"If Max hadn't, I sure would have," she giggled.
Tom was turning bright red and I said, "All right you two, that's enough. We don't want the boys to be hearing crap like this."
"Why not, Dad," Alex asked, "If I was older, I'd go for Pops, too."
"That's enough, all of you. We just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. If you're going to be gross, we'll just go."
"We're just messin' with ya', son," Dad replied. "Don't be goin' off into a snit, okay?"
"Besides, we're just fine," Mom added.
"How are Warren's wife and daughter doing?"
"About like you'd expect," Mom answered. "This morning, at church, we heard that they're planning to move back to Rockford where her family is."
"That's probably a good idea. I'm sure they wouldn't feel too comfortable around here after what happened at the church and the implications Warren's suicide created."
"That's part of it for sure," Dad agreed, "but I don't think she wanted to move here in the first place. She always seemed to be miserable to me."
"Do you think she knew what Warren was doing?" Tom asked.
"It's possible, I guess, though she'll never say."
"Oh, by the way, we have a little bit of good news for you," I said. "You want to tell them, Andy?"
"Yeah, I get to be adopted, too. Isn't that great?"
"That's wonderful, Andy," Mom gushed.
"And guess what's even better than that, Mama Rose," Joey asked.
"I can't imagine."
"We all get adopted on the same day, May seventeenth," Alex volunteered.
"Oh, my, that's absolutely perfect. That's going to make for a very busy day. I'll have to talk with Estelle and we'll have to make a few changes in our plans for that day."
We spent the next hour visiting, including the boys filling in our parents on their schoolwork and other developments such as the hiring of Ron to come in and help out with things around the house. Mom and dad were both intrigued that we'd trust somebody to actually live with us, especially considering how we lived. We tried to calm their concerns as best we could, but in the end, we all agreed there was a certain amount of risk involved and we were taking a leap of faith. We also filled them in on our presence in town today and how Barry was the one who gave my name to the newspaper. Both were surprised that I'd attend the man's funeral, but finally understood I only went out of respect for Helen and her kids.
When it came time for us to head home, the boys got dressed in extra clothes they'd brought with them so they wouldn't get their good clothes dirty while Tom and I wore what we'd worn to the funeral. After hugs all around, we headed outside and climbed in the car. As Tom pulled away from the curb, I said, "You know, I don't feel much like cookin' tonight when we get home. Why don't we take a short drive and get some of the best pizza you'll ever have?"
"Sounds good to me," Tom agreed. "What do you guys think?" With cheers of acceptance from all six boys, the decision was made. "Okay, boss, tell me where I'm going."
"Just exit at Veteran's Parkway and head south to Virden. When we get in town, I'll tell you where to go."
He followed my directions and thirty minutes later, we pulled up in front of a small building with the name `DiCarlo's Pizza' on it. As usual, they were busy, but they had a table that would work out just fine for us. After ordering our regular four large pizzas, we settled in for the wait. Despite the number of customers, our supper was delivered in about twenty minutes and we wasted no time in digging in. We allowed it to cool for a minute or two before taking the first bite, but once that threshold was crossed, we polished off all four pizzas rather quickly amid moans of delight.
"Oh, god," Tom groaned when he was full. "I ate way more than I should have, but it was too good to stop. This place has `Capone's' beat, hands down. Why have you been keeping it a secret from us?"
"I wasn't really, it's just hard to get down here on a regular basis. But now that we have, I can see we'll have to change that, won't we."
"You bet, Dad," T.J. exclaimed. "That was the best pizza I've ever had."
"I'm glad you guys liked it. We'll have to plan to come back at least once a month."
"I vote for every two weeks," Alex joked.
"What's wrong with every day?" Joey asked with a laugh.
"When you can make the drive yourself, and pay for your own gas, you're more than welcome to come here as much as you'd like. Until then, once a month will have to suffice."
"Dang it," Joey muttered. "I tried guys," he added as he looked to his brothers.
After paying the bill and leaving a generous tip for our server for having to deal with eight of us, we fell into the car and began the forty-minute drive to home.
As we headed into the house, Andy asked, "Can we go swimming?"
"I don't see why not. Give us a minute and we'll meet you guys in the living room." When all had joined up by the door to the pool, we zipped on out and jumped in. And the battle commenced. T.J., Mike and Andy set their sights on me while Alex, Logan and Joey took on the challenge of Tom. The three boys did everything they could to dunk me, but I put up a heck of a fight. I could see Tom was giving his all in his own battle ten feet away.
Again, T.J. locked his arms around my neck, his legs around my waist and held on for dear life. Mike and Andy were working at my sides trying to push me over when T.J. loosened his grip on my neck slightly and let himself slide down until my stiff member slid neatly into his rear crevice. After seeing the look of surprise on my face, he just grinned up at me and I could tell he was enjoying himself. Having been caught off-guard by the underwater contact, Mike and Andy took advantage of the situation and with one final push, they toppled me over, taking T.J. under with me. As he let go of my body and started to swim away, his stiff poker was dragged up my torso and then across my face in his escape. I surfaced, gasping for air, and the three were cheering loudly at having won their battle.
I looked over at the other skirmish still going on and decided to help Tom out. I waded over and upon reaching the struggling group, I started to tickle the boys' ribs. As soon as they loosened their grip on Tom, he easily vanquished his enemy and declared victory.
"Hey, that's not fair!" Joey yelled.
"Yeah, you got help," Alex added.
"You should always be aware of your enemy's forces and their locations," Tom said. "Let that be your lesson for tonight." With that, we turned and retreated to our corner and let the boys work on new battle strategies.
"Well, that was fun," Tom deadpanned. "Thanks for the helping hands."
"Always happy to help. Next time, you get to rescue me."
"I'll be happy to do so."
We watched the boys wear themselves out for the next forty-five minutes and when I could see them starting to slow down, decided it was time to get out. As we headed for our towels, the boys climbed out and joined us at the table to dry off. They were all looking pretty wiped out as we herded them into the house and through the showers. They were so tired and still full from stuffing themselves at supper, they crawled into their beds as soon as they dried off again, forgoing their evening snacks. After sharing our kisses and hugs goodnight with the twins and Logan, we headed to do the same with T.J., Andy and Mike.
Andy was already snoring lightly and I could tell Mike wasn't far from joining him. T.J., however, whispered in my ear, "I'll be there in five minutes. They should both be toast by then." I gave a simple nod of acknowledgement before we turned out the light and headed for our own shower.
While stepping in and turning on the shower in our bathroom, I said, "We need to move along. T.J. said he'd be here in five minutes. Hope you still have some energy left."
"I'll find some, don't worry," he chuckled.
"I'm sure I will, too."
We'd just climbed into bed and pulled up the covers when there was light rapping on the door. The door cracked open and T.J. stuck his head inside and asked, "Can I come in now?"
For those who might be interested, the restaurant mentioned in this chapter, DiCarlo's Pizza does, indeed, exist. The family that owns this place somehow landed in Virden, where I grew up, straight from Sicily. They opened in 1976 and are still doing great business today. They also make the best pizza I have ever had with recipes they brought with them. They make their own sauce, dough and everything. If you are ever in the Springfield, Illinois area, you owe it to yourself and your family to make the thirty-mile drive to Virden and experience it for yourself. I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
If you'd like more information on Oak Ridge Cemetery and Lincoln's tomb, the following links will take you to their sites:
http://www.oakridgecemetery.org/