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
"Then turn around, silly boy."
Logan slowly turned around to find his surprise and, at first, spotted only the aforementioned totem pole. When his gaze finally landed on Charlie, he screamed, "DAD!!!", and he ran back across the living room, jumped into his father's lap and smothered him with hugs and kisses.
As all of us watched the reunion with smiles on our faces, Logan suddenly pulled away from his hug and punched Charlie in the face, screaming, "You bastard! How does it feel, huh!?" Tom stood to get in the middle of the two, but Charlie held a hand up, signaling Tom to stay put. Logan continued to hit his dad's shoulders, chest and gut, and, to his credit, Charlie just sat there and accepted the abuse. When Logan's rage had finally dissipated, he sagged back into Charlie's lap and started crying. Charlie finally wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him in even closer while the boy sobbed.
When Logan quieted, and his body had quit heaving with every breath, Charlie lifted his son's head, looked into Logan's eyes and said, "I deserved that, and oh, so much more. I'm sorry I haven't been a very good father to you the past couple years and I hope that someday you'll find a way to forgive me. I love you with all my heart and I promise that I'll never hurt you again."
"You better not, `cause if you do, I'll round up my new brothers and we'll kick your ass," Logan retorted. His serious, but humorous, response to his dad broke the tension that had permeated the room as Logan pummeled his dad, and everyone enjoyed a little laugh.
Charlie finally took a moment to rub his rosy cheek and massage away the pain. "That was a pretty good shot, young man. You're really growing up."
"'Bout time you noticed, Dad. So, when can I move back home?"
"I can't answer that son, you'll have to talk to Judge Corgan about it."
Logan turned to David and bluntly asked, "So, when?"
David smiled at Logan and answered, "Not until you and your dad have been to the counselor together several times and the counselor says it's okay."
Logan turned back to Charlie and said, "When's your first appointment?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. We'll just have to take things one day at a time until we can be together again. You okay with that?"
"You bet, Dad, whatever it takes. I just wanna come back home."
"I know you do, Logan, and I want you home, too. It's awful lonely rattling around that big, old farmhouse all by myself. You been doin' okay here?"
"Yeah, it's great livin' here. Max and Tom have been great, and I got five brothers I never had before. They got a pool, a theater and I'm sleepin' with Joey and Alex. But, as nice as it is, it ain't home."
David stood and said, "Well, I think it's time I head for home. Margie should be home soon and there'll be hell to pay if I miss our supper."
Tom and I stood and followed David to the front door. As he pulled his jacket on, I said, "I'm glad you came out this afternoon, David. It was nice to get to know you better."
"Likewise, Max. I truly enjoyed our lunch and visit, and I look forward to doing it again. And, again, thanks for everything you've done to help preserve my family's history."
"I was happy to do it."
"Sorry I wasn't able to be around more today," Tom apologized. "But I couldn't just ignore T.J.'s request."
"Don't you worry about it, Tom. Family always comes first. And if I didn't know better, I'd say you're about have another addition to that family."
"Lord, I hope not," Tom chuckled. "We've already got a full house."
"Don't forget to keep an eye on those two," David whispered while pointing to Charlie and Logan in the living room. "I'd hate to see the old Charlie show up, `cause then I would have to lock him up and throw away the key."
"Don't worry, David, I got this," Tom replied.
"And good luck be with you this evening when you take Rich home. I have this horrible feeling you're going to need it."
"I hope you're wrong about that, but I'll be ready for anything."
"Remember to let us know when you want to bring your dad out," I said as I opened the front door.
"I'll certainly do that." At that moment, we were surrounded by six wild boys, all clamoring to say goodbye to David and smother him with hugs. When each one had said their goodbye, Charlie stepped in to shake David's hand and, again, thank him for his help. Last, but not least, was Rich.
"It was nice to meet you, Rich," David said as the two shook hands. "I hope nothing but the best for you in the future."
"It was a pleasure to meet you also, sir. Now that it seems like I really have a future, Mr. Corgan, I'm going to make the best of it."
"That's the proper attitude, young man. If there's anything I can do to help you, let me know."
"I will, thanks." With the final goodbye completed, David turned and headed across the porch and through the late afternoon sun to his car.
After closing the door, I turned to Tom and commented, "Well, that was a fun afternoon. And it's not over yet."
"Nope, not by a longshot. Would you mind checking in on Bill while I rejoin Charlie and Logan. I want to make sure neither one goes off on the other again."
"Why don't you ask Charlie if he'd like to stay for supper. I'd like for you and T.J. to eat before you take Rich home since we don't know how long your mission will last."
"You got it, babe. And ask T.J. if he thinks he'll be able to sense things from the car, would you?"
"Will do, right after I check on Bill." We headed across the entry and when I turned down the hall towards Tom's office, Tom continued on into the living room and took a seat close to the father and son enjoying their little reunion. After finding Bill was moving along with getting Tom's computers set up, I headed back across the house to the kitchen to figure out something easy to fix for supper. Passing by the living room, I noticed all the boys had also joined in the reunion. I stopped behind the loveseat that was occupied by Alex, Joey, and T.J. and said, "Why don't you guys come help me with supper and let Logan have some time with his dad." The fantastic five lived up to their name as they and Rich hopped up and followed me into the kitchen.
"What do you guys think of mac and cheese for supper?"
"Sounds good to us, Dad," T.J. answered.
I pulled out the big pot, filled it with hot water and got it on the stove. While I got everything else ready to go, I said, "T.J., I need to ask you a question. Is your ability to pick up other people's thoughts limited by distance or anything?"
"I don't know, Dad. With Joey and Alex, I can hear them through walls pretty easily, but the rest of you, not so much. It's probably easier with them `cause they can do the same thing I can. With anybody else, I pretty much need to be in the same room. Why you askin'?"
"Well, Tom and I are worried about you going along when Tom takes Rich home."
"I'll be okay, Rich'll make sure of that, won't you?"
"Dang right, I will. I won't let anything happen to you."
"Well, we'll see," I muttered as I returned to my supper preparations.
I sat quietly on the loveseat, trying to mind my own business with my nose stuck in a book, but still half listening to the conversation between Charlie and Logan. Logan was still sitting in his dad's lap and Charlie was still holding him tightly. It was easy to see how much the two loved and needed each other and I was hopeful they'd be able to work out their issues. I was glad the two of them were having a seemingly serious discussion about the past few years and where they expected to be in the next few.
After about ten minutes of trying to look like I wasn't eavesdropping, Bill popped his head around the corner of the hallway and called to me. "Pssst, Tom, you got a minute?"
"Sure, Bill." I followed Bill back to my new office and took in my new computer system. From the tower on the floor next to the desk, to the dual twenty-seven inch flat-screen monitors on the desk, to the wireless keyboard, mouse and headset, I was blown away. "Uh, don't you think this is bit overkill."
"Nope, just what Max ordered for you. He said to give you the best, so I did. You'll find the dual monitors come in handy. You can have your e-mail open all the time on one screen and then your browser and other programs on the other screen. I've got you connected to the network and the internet through that. The Surface is all setup and the sync is configured so when you drop it in the cradle, it'll sync any new files on the tablet to the tower. Same with your e-mail. Both the tablet and tower are connected to the same account, so they'll always be in sync. You can set up Outlook on your phone, too, so all three will be in sync."
"Wow, sounds you like got me dialed in on everything."
"There's one more thing I want to show you," Bill said. "Max didn't ask for this, but knowing you're starting a new business and us small business guys gotta help each other out, I created this for you." Bill leaned over the desk, grabbed the mouse and opened the web browser. The page that popped up was `TD Investigations' and my picture was at the top left corner of the page. "I don't know if you have a real name for your business yet, but we can change it very quickly to whatever you want. Every business needs a presence on the web these days or you'll never get anywhere. When you have more time, I'll sit down with you and customize the site to whatever you want."
"Service above and beyond the call, Bill. Thanks."
"Well, I know Max has his own site for himself and his books, I figured you'd want the same for you. You let me know when you have time and we'll get together to complete it."
"Excellent, I'll look forward to it. How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing, Max has already paid for it. You ever have problems or questions, just call or e-mail me. Also, let me know when your other guy's desk is here, and I'll bring his equipment out.
"Well, thanks for the quick service, Bill. I can see why Max sticks with you."
"Just doin' my job, Tom. Well, I guess I'll get out of here. I'll see you again soon."
I followed Bill back to the front door and let him out before stopping in the kitchen to see how supper was progressing.
"Hey, Bill all done?" I asked as Tom came into the kitchen.
"Yep, all set up and ready to go. Thanks."
"Thanks for what?"
"For payin' for all that. I was gonna take care of it, ya' know? I'm a rich man, now," he chuckled.
"Yeah, I know, and I'm going to let you do just that. Consider it a short-term, no-interest loan. Once you start gettin' richer, though, I want my money back," I laughed. "By the way, your timing is perfect. We're two minutes away from being ready to serve. Boys, hop to it."
"Logan, time to set the table! Get your skinny ass in here, dude," Joey yelled.
"Is Charlie joining us?" I asked.
"He said he would," Tom answered with a nod.
"Ten places, boys," I called out.
"Can I do anything to help?" Rich asked.
"Yeah, you could hand me the bowls from up there so I don't have to drag the stool out of the pantry," T.J. replied.
"You got it, buddy." Rich retrieved the bowls for T.J., then followed him into the dining room to help place them around the table. Mike and Andy were taking care of napkins and silverware for everyone while Joey, Alex and Logan were fixing and delivering drinks.
Charlie had joined us after using the bathroom and asked, "Is it always like this at meal time?"
"Pretty much, Charlie," Tom answered. "We take care of the food and the boys take care of the table. When we're done, the boys clean up the table and load the dishwasher while Max and I clean up the rest."
"Looks like you have it all figured out."
"We do okay most days," I laughed. "You good with mac and cheese, Charlie?"
"Sure, it's one of Logan's favorites."
"Okay, soup's ready folks, everyone to the table." I followed the leaders and went around the table filling everyone's bowls. After filling my bowl last, I set the pot in the middle of the table and took my seat.
As we quietly enjoyed our simple meal, Rich asked, "Uh, Mr. Wright, how we gonna do this when we get to my house? The folks ain't too happy I left school early and wasn't at home this afternoon. And who knows how they'll be after I say what I need to say?"
"I'm not exactly sure, Rich. I think we'll just have to play it by ear once we get there. My biggest concern is the gun that's in the house. I want to make sure that's secured before we start."
"I can take care of that for ya'. When we get there, while you tell my parents why you're there, I'll go into their bedroom, get the gun out of the safe and bring it to you."
"Yeah, that would work. I just want to make sure your mom and dad don't have access to it. That could be a recipe for disaster."
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Rich responded.
"You afraid of a gun, Mr. Wright," Charlie scornfully asked.
"Charlie, anybody who isn't a little bit afraid of a gun in the hands of someone he doesn't know is a fool."
"But guns don't kill people, do they, so only an idiot should be afraid of a gun."
"Okay, let me put it another way. Being an ex-cop and around guns daily for the last five years, it's true, I'm not afraid of the gun itself. But I am scared shitless of the idiot holding the gun and what he or she can do with it. And I've seen more than my fair share of those idiots and nothin' good ever happened with any of them. Besides, after you've been shot once, it tends to skew your viewpoint a little. It's an experience I'd like to have only once in my life."
"So, you've been shot, have you?"
"Yes, sir, and I was very lucky to have survived it," Tom answered while absentmindedly stroking the side of his head. "So, you'll just have to forgive me if I'm being overly cautious. But it's my life on the line and not yours."
"I wasn't criticizing your approach, just curious about why the extra concern. I understand your worries, now. I do hope you'll be careful."
"Always, Charlie." Tom looked back to me and asked, "Now, what about T.J. going with us?"
"I asked him and he doesn't think he'll be able to help you from the car. He said unless it's Alex or Joey, he pretty much has to be in the same room."
"I know you don't like that idea, but I think it's important for him to be there with us."
"Unfortunately, so do I. Just promise me you'll be extra careful."
"We will, babe, don't worry."
"I'm sorry," Charlie interrupted, "I'm confused about what kind of help a kid his age could possibly give you."
I looked at T.J. to see if he was gonna answer the implied question and was surprised when he did so with his usual bluntness.
"I can pick up other people's thoughts, Mr. Campbell," T.J. replied.
"Bull-hockey! Nobody can do that," Charlie protested.
"He sure can," Rich attested. "He did it with me, that's why I'm here right now and not at home, dead."
"Trust me, Dad, he can," Logan offered. "He's even better at it than Alex and Joey."
"Prove it," Charlie demanded. "What am I thinking right now?"
After just a few second's delay, T.J. said, "You're thinking we're all crazy to believe such nonsense. You're also thinking that you can't get out of here fast enough if we all believe in such utter foolishness."
"Holy carp, kid! How'd you do that?"
To prove his point, T.J. added, "And you really wanted to say crap just then, but changed it to carp at the last moment, hoping you wouldn't offend anyone."
Rattled to the core, Charlie stammered, "Okay, Okay, I believe you. You can get the hell out of my head, now." Charlie then looked back to Tom and me and added, "Yeah, I could see how he could help you. But I still don't get why you're involved."
"Rich, you want to handle that one?" Tom asked.
"Uh, not really. I mean, it's not really any of his business, is it?"
"No, you're right, it isn't," Charlie replied. "Sorry for stickin' my nose where it don't belong."
The rest of our meal was fairly quiet, and I could see poor Rich getting more and more nervous as the time to go home drew closer and closer. When the pot and everyone's bowls were empty, the boys got to work collecting everyone's dishes and silver, then rinsing them in the sink before dropping them in the dishwasher. By the time the rest of the mess was cleaned up, it was ten to six and time for Tom, Rich and T.J. to get ready to roll. Tom headed to our bedroom first and returned with his shoulder holster strapped into position and his gun secured in its place. I noticed he also had an extra clip hanging from it.
"You expectin' some serious trouble there, bubba?" I asked nervously.
"Not really, but I want to be prepared just in case."
"What do you carry?" Charlie asked.
"A Sig P229," Tom replied. "It's reliable, lightweight and accurate. Most of the younger guys in the department carried the same so we could share clips if needed."
"I hope you won't need to use it tonight."
"You and me both, Charlie. Thanks." Tom turned to Max and added, "Look, we've got to go. I'll call you when T.J. and I are headed back home."
I hugged my teddy bear and whispered, "You be careful and watch out for our son."
"I will, love you, babe."
"Love you too." I released Tom, knelt and snagged T.J. "You listen to Pops and do whatever he says."
"I will, Dad. And don't worry, I got a good feeling `bout this."
"I hope you're right, young man. I'm hope you know how proud I am of you for jumping into the breech and helping Rich. Love you."
"Yeah, I know," he replied with a blush. "I love you, too."
I stood and turned to Rich. "Rich, it was nice to meet you."
"It was great to meet you, also, Mr. Sanders," Rich replied while shaking my hand.
"Just so you know, if you ever have any problems or need help, we're here."
"Thanks, man, `ppreciate it. I hope you were serious about that movie thing and not just bullshittin' me. It'll be a good thing to have something to look forward to."
"You bet I am. Now, get out of here and be safe." Tom led Rich and T.J. down the hall to the garage and disappeared. I was having a hard time controlling my feelings as the door closed, but I had to trust in Tom to do the right thing.
When I finally turned from the hallway to join Charlie and the boys in the living room, Charlie said, "Well, I guess I should be heading for home, also, but before I do, I'd like to talk to you, Mr. Sanders. Would you boys give us a few minutes, please?"
Logan stood and answered, "Sure thing, dad. C'mon guys, let's go watch some TV." The others stood and as they started towards the theater, Logan stopped by his dad, gave him another hug and whispered, "Don't say or do nothin' stupid, Dad."
"I'll be good, son, I promise," Charlie whispered back with a wry smile. After the boys had disappeared into the theater, Charlie sat next to me with nervous concern flooding his face.
"Before you get started, Charlie, please call me Max. `Mr. Sanders' is my dad."
"Thank you, Max. Though, after behaving the way I did, I'm not sure I deserve that privilege."
"Water under the bridge. Now, what's on your mind?" I asked.
"I need to apologize for being such a flaming asshole when I brought Logan over for your sons' birthday party."
"I appreciate that, Charlie."
"You see, I guess I was reactin' to a situation that my tiny and inexperienced mind couldn't quite grasp. I've never given much thought about what it's like to be like you and Tom. I've never known any other gay people and my dad had always said folks like you were perverts and child rapists, and you shouldn't be trusted. And since I didn't know any different, I allowed his influence over me to cloud my own judgement. After talking with Logan while you were fixing supper for everyone, and seeing how you interact with each other and your sons, I discovered that you and Tom really aren't any different than my wife and I were. Logan told me how much you two love and support each other. He also told me how much you love and care for your sons."
"He's right about that, you know."
"Yeah, I know. At least, now I do. After being here the last couple hours and seeing how you are with each other and the boys, I finally get it. My old man was a small-minded bigot and I allowed him to do my thinking for me instead of doin' it for myself. It's too bad he's not still around so I could tell him how wrong he was."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Charlie. It must be hard losing a parent."
"Don't be. He was a raving lunatic, obviously. I guess I should be glad he hasn't been here to poison Logan with the same kind of thinking, like he did to me. But, Logan also told me something else that proved to me how wrong I've been all these years." Fearing what Logan might have shared with his dad, I nervously waited for him to continue. "Logan told me how you and your family live, bein' naked most of the time. Not that that would be a big deal to him since he usually don't have nothin' on at home."
Oh crap, why did he have to go there? "Now, wait just a minute ..." I started to object.
"Hold on a minute, Max. Let me finish. He also told me how, in the time he's been here, and despite the fact y'all don't wear clothes, he hasn't seen you or Tom do anything that anyone could possibly consider to be wrong or inappropriate to him or your sons. And him telling me that is what's convinced me that my dad and I have been wrong about you and other people like you. I can't honestly say I understand why you or Tom prefer to be with another man, but I don't need to, either, `cause it ain't my life, is it? And after learning something new from my son today, I've reached a point where I can accept it and not question your motives in adopting any kids. In fact, I think you and Tom will be great parents to any child you adopt."
"Well, I suppose I should be glad of that revelation. It's a shame it took the horrendous abuse of your son to figure it all out."
"And I'll pay for that for the rest of my life. I don't know if Logan will ever trust me again."
"I'm sure he will, Charlie. It won't be quick or easy, but it will happen. Despite the problems you two have had the past couple of years, he still loves you and wants to be with you. He's said many times the past few weeks how much he wants to be back at home. And while we all like Logan a lot, we'd like to see him at home, also. That's where he belongs, at home, with you."
"Well, I can't thank you enough for opening your heart and home to him, and letting him stay with you while I get my head on straight. While I wasn't thrilled at the idea of him being here for any period of time, it's nice to find out my fears were completely unjustified. I hope, in time, we might all become friends."
"We'd like that, too. Logan is welcome to stay as long he needs. And once he's allowed to move back home, you both will be welcome here anytime."
"Thank you, Max. And please pass my thanks on to Tom, also. Now, before I get out of here, is there any chance of seeing Logan sometime over the weekend?"
"Oh, I'm afraid not. We're not going to be home. I've made plans to take the boys and some of their friends up to Chicago for the weekend. Logan, of course, is included in that. Maybe we could work out something for you to come over Monday evening."
"Well, that sucks for me, but it sure sounds like fun for the boys. Logan's always wanted to see the city, but with the farm, I never have time to take trips like that."
"We're happy to have him go with us. I think we'll all enjoy a few days away from home. I've barely left the house since the boys moved in, so I know I'm looking forward to it. Just do me a favor and don't say anything to the boys. It's a surprise for them."
"My lips are sealed. Well, I better get outta here. I got things to deal with at home."
"Let me get Logan out here so he can say goodbye." I picked up the phone and dialed the extension in the theater. When Alex finally answered, I told him to send Logan out to say goodbye to his dad. Logan charged out of theater, across the dining room and jumped in his dad's lap again.
"You leavin' already, Dad?"
"Yeah, got to deal with some things at home. I'll see you Monday night."
"Why wait until then, why not tomorrow night?"
"Well, I don't know how long my counseling will run and I'll have to do some work at home after. If I have time, I'll call and see if it's okay to come over," Charlie answered with a sly wink to me.
"Okay. I miss you, Daddy."
"I miss you, too, son. You'll be back home soon."
"I hope so." After giving Charlie a hug and a kiss on the cheek and receiving the same back from his dad, Logan slowly slid off his dad's lap and then helped him stand up.
Charlie stepped over to me while I got up and we shook hands. As we did, he said, "Again, thanks for your help, Max. You're a good man who truly cares about other people. The world would certainly be a better place if it had more people like you and Tom in it."
"Thank you, Charlie. I'm glad we can help you two out. You're welcome to visit Logan at any time. Hope to see you again soon."
Logan walked his dad to the front door and, after another hug and kiss goodbye, stood at the doorway as Charlie walked to his car and drove away. When Logan finally closed the door, he turned and walked to my chair, then climbed in my lap and started crying. I wrapped the whimpering boy in a hug and let him cry. "Hang in there, buddy, just a little longer and you'll be back together."
"I know," Logan sobbed. "I just miss him so much." When he finally calmed back down, he lifted his head and asked, "You don't think I'm a big baby for cryin', do ya'?"
"Not at all, young man. I'd be surprised if you didn't. You are human, after all."
At that, Joey stuck his head around the corner of the dining room and asked, "Is he gone yet?"
"He just left, Joey, why?"
"Can we finally get comfortable, then?"
I chuckled as I'd just realized this was probably the longest the boys have been dressed while at home. "Yes, go ahead."
"Thank god," he said with exasperation. He then stepped around the corner to reveal he was already nude, yelled into the theater, "C'mon guys, let's put our clothes in our rooms!" The fantastic five strolled across the house, carrying bundles of dirty clothes and collecting Logan on their way through the living room.
They traipsed back through to return to their show and Alex stopped to ask, "C'mon, Dad, why don't you join us? You'll just drive yourself crazy thinkin' `bout Pops and T.J. if you're out here all alone."
"Yeah, okay. Let me get undressed and I'll be there in a minute. I made my way to my bedroom, got comfortable in my own skin, again, visited the bathroom, then joined the boys and the show they were watching on Animal Planet.
Following the directions provided by Rich, ten minutes after leaving home, the three of us pulled up in front of a newer, large, modern-looking house about halfway to Springfield. We arrived a little later than I had originally intended, but Rich was finally home and ready to face his parents. I was really hoping that T.J.'s good feeling was on the money.
"Nice house, Rich," I commented as we walked to the front door.
"Yeah, the old man likes it. Your house I nicer though. And I'd much rather live there than here. At least you guys actually care about the kids who live with you, and even kids who don't."
"Don't write your parents off just yet."
We'd reached the door and Rich used his key to unlock it and let us inside. "Mom, Dad, where are ya'!?" he yelled to the dark house.
"We're in the kitchen!" a deep bass voice answered. "You better get your sorry ass in here and explain yourself!"
"Follow me," Rich said while rolling his eyes in exasperation. He led us through the house, turning on lights as he did. When we entered the kitchen, Mr. and Mrs. weaver were sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of each of them. Both their faces were contorted into masks of barely-restrained anger. "Mom, Dad, this is Mr. Wright and one of his sons, T.J. I know you're pissed off and want to talk, but I really need to hit the john before we do. I'll be right back." Rich turned and disappeared before his parents could lodge a protest, leaving T.J. and me alone with his parents.
"You're the man I talked to on the phone, aren't you," Eileen hissed. "Who the fuck are you and what the hell do you think you're doin' takin' my kid out of school and to your home?"
"Good evening, Mr. & Mrs. Weaver," I replied calmly. "Like Rich said, I'm Tom Wright and this is my son T.J.," I greeted, laying a hand on T.J.'s shoulder as he gave the two a little wave and a smile. "I go by Tom and I hope you don't mind, but I'm not going to be saying Mr. and Mrs. Weaver all night, so I'm gonna stick with Eileen and Stan. I'd also ask that you mind your manners and words in front of my son."
"You gotta a lotta nerve comin' in here and askin' for anything, mister," Stan replied.
"Yes, I know that, but if you give us just a few minutes of your precious time, T.J. and I will be on our way. By the way, I would appreciate a cup of coffee, also. And I'm sure T.J. wouldn't mind something to drink as well." T.J. gave an emphatic nod in the positive and when neither Weaver reacted to my request, I walked across the kitchen and started opening cabinets in search of a mug for my own use.
"What do you think you're doing?" Eileen screeched.
"Well, since neither one of you seemed inclined to fulfill my request, I'm helping myself," I answered as I continued to rummage through the cabinets. "Aha, there they are," I added after finally finding a mug to use. I poured myself a cup and then opened the refrigerator to find something for T.J. to drink. "Hey, buddy, this looks like a Coke house, is that okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine, Pops. Thanks for the drink, Mr. and Mrs. Weaver." With my coffee and T.J.'s Coke in hand, we took seats on the opposite side of the table from Stan and Eileen.
"It's nice to meet you both," I said cheerfully as I extended a hand in friendship. A hand that was rejected by both adults. "Well, I guess you're both wondering exactly what we're doing here. As soon as Rich returns, we'll clear up your confusion." Thirty seconds later, Rich came back from his errand, wide grin spreading across his face.
"Here ya' go, Mr. Wright," he said as he handed me his father's gun, a Glock 19, and Stan's eyes went wide in surprise.
"Thanks, Rich." I smoothly ejected the clip and racked the slide, ejecting the chambered shell to ensure the gun was empty. Once I knew the gun couldn't be used, I placed the clip and loose bullet from the breech in my left-hand jacket pocket and the empty gun in my right-hand pocket. "Now, why don't you tell your mom and dad where you've been since you left school and why. I know they're anxious to find out what's going on."
"Why the hell did he just give you my gun?" Stan yelled.
"Just a safety precaution, Stan. Carry on, Rich."
"Right. Mom, Dad, I need to tell you two somethin' you probably ain't gonna like."
"I think we both know what you're about to say, Rich," Eileen responded with venom dripping from her every word.
"Part of it, yeah, you probably do. But part of it you don't, either, so just listen, okay?"
"Oh, would you just get on with it?" Stan protested. "You've never finished a coherent thought in your life."
"Jesus, Dad! For the first time in my life, would you please just shut the fuck up and let me talk?" Stan's jaw dropped as he sat in stunned silence at Rich's outburst. "Thank you, that's perfect. Why do you always have to make life so difficult? Never mind, don't answer that. Look, here's the scoop. The school started a new group for kids like me to talk to other kids when we have a problem. T.J., here, is one of the leaders of that group, along with his twin brothers." T.J., again, gave the Weavers a jaunty little wave along with his most heart-melting smile. "I talked to T.J. the first time yesterday and I scared him with something, so today, he brought his dad with him to talk to me some more." Eileen lifted her hand to interrupt, but Rich continued as if he hadn't see it.
"The group these guys run is for kids who think they're gay and need help dealing with it." Both Stan and Eileen were giving Rich their undivided attention. "So, I'm gay, that's the part you probably know about already. Especially after dad barged in my room last night and caught me, uh, red-handed, as it was." I had to quickly suppress the tight smile that had formed on my face at Rich's pun. "The part you don't know is the other reason the group got started. It's not just to help kids who are or think they might be gay. It's really for kids who are thinkin' about killin' themselves because of it." Eileen's hands flew to her mouth as she gasped in surprise and Stan hung his head low. "That's what scared T.J., and why he had his dad come talk to me.
"I've been hiding who I am for way too long and I couldn't take it anymore. I had a plan to kill myself all figured out and after what happened last night, I was gonna do it this afternoon when I got home from school. I figured what better time, right? You two would still be at work and the little princess of the house was goin' to a friend's house. I've already written my goodbye note. I'd just lay it on the bed next to me before I blew my brains out. That way you wouldn't have any questions about why I'd done it. Then, my new friend T.J. introduced me to his dad." And there he goes again with that sweet wave and smile. "Mr. Wright convinced me suicide wasn't the answer to my problems and talked me into goin' to his house with him so I wouldn't be home alone today. If it weren't for him and T.J., you wouldn't have a son right now. So, that's where I was this afternoon and why." Rich bowed his head in preparation for the shitstorm he felt was sure to come.
Eileen covered her face with her hands and began to sob. Stan, on the other hand, reached a hand out to his son and took Rich's hand in his own. After several quiet moments, Stan finally spoke up.
"I'm glad you listened to T.J. and Tom, son. Our lives would have been shattered if you hadn't."
"Your life?" Rich asked incredulously, lifting his head back up to face his dad. "What about my life? It would have been over, damn it."
"I'm sorry, Rich, I wasn't thinking straight and didn't say that quite right. I'm not exactly sure how to say what I really want to say except for this; I'm glad you're still here. I don't know what we'd have done if you didn't have such good friends you could rely on."
"But that's the whole point, Dad. I didn't have anyone I could talk to. I sure as hell couldn't talk to you two. If the school hadn't handed out these little pamphlets to everyone this week, I wouldn't have even known about the group T.J. and his brothers started."
"Why did you think you couldn't talk to us about what you were dealing with."
"Oh, yeah, right. After listening to all your sick jokes about fags, queers and perverts forever, what makes you think I'd want to come tell you I'm gay. And Mom's not any better, either. Besides, you'd never let me finish a sentence without shutting me down. That's what you always do whenever I try to have to serious talk with you about anything. Jesus Christ, Mom, would you please stop with the fake sobs? This is about me, not you."
Eileen removed her hands from in front of her face and it was plain as day that she hadn't been crying at all. "Well, you insolent little shit, you! How dare you talk to me like that!? I'm supposed to be happy you didn't fuckin' kill yourself? I wish you would have. What makes you think I want to have a cocksucker for a son?"
Stan spun in his seat and looked at Eileen as if he were seeing her for the time in his life. "Eileen! What're you sayin?"
"I'm sayin' I wished he'd really done it. God, what a waste of human protoplasm. What will the people in my office think when they find out my son's a faggot?"
"Who cares what they think!" Rich screamed.
"Calm down, Rich, I'll take care of this," Stan replied calmly. He then turned to his wife and said, "Eileen, we need to talk, right now." You could sense the rage coursing through Stan as he grabbed his wife's arm and pulled the protesting woman from the kitchen.
"Oh, god, this is just what I'd figured would happen," Rich moaned, dropping his head and hiding his face behind his hands.
T.J. stood up and stepped next to his older friend, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Rich, dude, look at me," T.J. pleaded. When Rich lifted his head back up, T.J. continued. "It gonna be okay. Your dad's with you, man. He's pretty cool, I think, and he supports you. Your mom, not so much, but your dad's taking care of that problem right now. You'll see."
We sat quietly for a while, waiting for Rich's parents to return. After a few minutes, we heard the rumble of a garage door opening, followed by the squeal of spinning tires and rocks flying as a car sped down the drive and hooked a wicked left turn onto the road before zooming away. We quizzically looked to each other until Stan returned to the kitchen.
"What the hell's goin on, Dad?" Rich asked.
"Let's just say `Elvira has left the building'," Stan answered calmly as he sat down next to Rich.
"Jesus, Dad, I never meant for Mom to leave."
"I know you didn't, son, but it's been a long time comin'. I've been so tired of her nitpicky attitude the last couple years, I've thought about leaving her. But I didn't want to leave you and Carrie alone with her. Looks like I don't have to worry about that any longer. None of us could ever do anything to please her, could we?"
"Well, no, I guess not. She was always on our backs `bout somethin'. But what'd did you just say to her that made her leave?"
"I told her if she couldn't love and accept you for who you are, then she should just get the hell out. And stay out. You bein' gay may be the straw that broke the camel's back, but there were thousand other straws already there. And, trust me, son, this isn't your fault. There would've been somethin' else in the next couple of weeks that would have had the same effect, so don't worry about it. We'll be just fine."
"So, what happens now?"
"We pick up the pieces and move on."
"But what about Carrie? What's she gonna do?"
"I don't know, son. I guess we'll give her the choice of who she wants to live with, us or your mom. We'll let her decide her own fate. She is fourteen, after all, and that makes her old enough to make her own decision on who she'd rather live with."
"Hell, I didn't want it happen like this," Rich cried as he crossed his arms on the table in front of him and laid his head down on them.
Stan slid closer and draped an arm over Rich's shoulders. "Listen, son, everything's gonna be fine. Yeah, it'll be a little rough for a while as we all adjust to this new reality, but we'll get through it and have nothin' but better days ahead of us."
"Excuse me a second, Stan," I interrupted. "Rich was scared to tell you he's gay, to the point of planning his own death, because he was convinced you hated him."
"Now where did you ever get that idea, son? I love you and always have. Besides, you think I didn't already know?"
"WHAT!? You knew? How come you wouldn't talk to me about it?"
"Because of your mother. I knew how she'd react to the news, so every time you tried to bring it up, I steered the conversation in another direction. I guess, maybe, I was also a bit uncomfortable talking about it myself. It looks like I'll need to get past that."
"How long have you known?" Rich begged.
"Since we had our little sex chat when you were thirteen or so."
"And what made you so sure you knew?"
"Well, your mom and Carrie had gone shopping and to a movie so we could have our talk, remember? And you were wearing those flimsy white shorts you loved to wear all the time. You'd worn the damn things so much, they were practically see-through. When I was trying to explain the anatomical differences between men and women, you had no reaction during the female side of the conversation. But when it was time to talk about the male's anatomy, you were totally engrossed, and I couldn't help but notice little Richie was standing at attention the entire time."
"Yep, he's gay", T.J. giggled which caused the rest of us to laugh out loud. In addition to being the first laugh of the evening, Rich blushed mightily.
"Oh, geez," Rich moaned. "I can't believe you saw me with a hardon and didn't say nothin' about it."
"Boy, you were in the middle of puberty and hardons pop up without any warning. It wasn't a big deal. Well, really, it was a pretty big deal, considering your age, but I figured I shouldn't embarrass you any more than you already were. And there have been other things over the years that reinforced what I intuited that day."
"I don't even wanna know, Dad."
"Like comin' into our bathroom to `get some toilet paper' or some other lame excuse. The funny thing was, though, you only did that when I was in there to take my shower. I always figured you just wanted to see me naked, so every now and then, I'd oblige you and step out of the shower to grab my towel. Your eyes always bugged out when I would do that."
"You can stop any time now."
"Then there was the time I caught you and Jimmy ..."
"Really, Dad, just shut up, would you?"
After a quick laugh at his son's embarrassment, Stan added, "Look, it's all good, Rich. And now that your mom's taken a hike, you can talk to me any time you want about anything you want. Sound good to you?"
"You have no idea. We'll just have to be careful about Carrie bein' around."
"No sweat. I figure she'll want to live your mom, anyway. She hates my guts, ya' know."
"Um, Stan, there's one more thing you need to know Rich has been doing," I interjected.
"What's that?" he asked looking back to me.
"He told T.J. he's been going to some bar in Springfield, trying to find some random guy to, uh, help him figure things out."
"Rich, you can't be doin' stupid shit like that. That's a good way to get yourself killed," Stan reacted.
"Yeah, that's what Mr. Wright said. I'm sorry, Dad, I want to do some things so badly, but I don't know who I can ask and not freak `em out. God knows I can't ask any of my friends."
"Yeah, I could see that bein' a problem. Tell you what, when we have some time alone, why don't you tell me about what you'd like to try, and we'll see what we can come up with, okay? I'm not saying I'll be your partner or anything like that, but we'll figure something out."
"You sure about that?"
"Of course, I am. I want you to be able to explore your sexuality, but I also want you to be safe about it, okay? No more stupid bars, got it?"
"Yeah, I got it, Dad."
"Any other big `news' you wanna drop on your old man today?"
"Well, actually, yeah. I got a job lined up for when I get out of school."
"Really?" Stan asked, surprise evident in his voice.
"Yeah, you remember those books Mom used to read? Those `Jake Franklin' ones?"
"Yeah, there were three or four of `em, if I remember correctly. What about them says you have job?"
"Well, I met the dude who wrote them this afternoon, Max Sanders."
"I thought you were at Tom's house."
"I was, but it's Mr. Sanders' house, too. He and Mr. Wright are getting married and T.J. is one the boys they're adopting."
"Wait, you're tellin' me that your mom's favorite writer is gay? Oh, man that's a hoot," Stan laughed. "She'd have a freakin' hemorrhage if she knew."
"Wouldn't she? But here's the best part, Dad. He wants me to play Jake Franklin in the movies. Isn't that outta this world?"
"Oh, god, my son, the movie star! You're shittin' me, right?"
"I would never shit you dad, you're my favorite turd."
"There's that smart-mouth little brat I've been missing all these years. I shoulda kicked your mom to the curb a long time ago."
"Well, look," I interrupted, "I think you two are doin' okay. Maybe T.J. and I should get on outta here `cause I have the feeling there's a lot you two have to say to each other."
Stan stood, walked around the table and pulled me into a smothering bearhug. "I can't thank you and T.J. enough for being there when my son needed help he couldn't get at home. If there's anything I can do to repay your generosity, you just let me know."
"We're glad we could help, Stan. Rich is a good kid who temporarily lost his way. I think he's on the correct path again and he's gonna be just fine."
"Yes, I do, too. I do have one favor I'd like to ask from you."
"If I can do it, I'll be happy to."
"I want you to get that gun out of this house and hold on to it for a while. Until I know Rich is safe, I don't want it around."
"Consider it done, Stan. When you feel the time is right, just let me know, and I'll return it to you."
"Thanks, Tom."
While the two of us were talking, Rich had lifted T.J. up onto his chair and they were staring at each other. "Thanks for talking with me and caring enough to get your dad involved, T.J.," Rich started. "You were there for me when I needed someone, and I'll never forget that. For such a little shrimp, you got awful big balls, dude," he added with a big smile.
"Thanks, Rich, you do, too. Standing up for yourself to your mom and dad, like you did tonight, tells me you got some pretty big balls, too."
"Love you, little dude. You ever need anything, find me." The two enveloped each other in a hug and when they started to let each other go, Rich leaned in and kissed T.J. on the nose. When Rich backed up again, T.J. leaned in and planted a sloppy wet kiss on Rich's lips, surprising the older boy.
Rich then turned to me and pulled me into another hug. After separating, he said, "Thanks for everything, Mr. Wright. You've not only given me my life back, but something to live for, too. If I need to talk to someone again and Dad's not available, can I call you?"
I pulled one of my old deputy cards out of my wallet, wrote my new numbers on the back and handed it to Rich. "24/7, Rich."
I watched as Rich slipped the card into his wallet and muttered, "Thanks," with a tear slipping down his cheek.
"C'mon, T.J., let's get out of the way and let these two talk."
"Lead the way, Pops." Rich and Stan followed us to the front door where we all shared a four-way hug before we headed on out into the chilly March evening for our trip home. As we climbed in the car, T.J. gave a last little wave to Rich who was still standing on the front porch. As I headed down the driveway, T.J. sighed wistfully and commented, "Well, I don't know about you, Pops, but I'm wiped. But, I think we did okay, though."
"It wouldn't have happened without you, son. You did great, T.J., and I'm just following along in the shadow of the giant." As I made the turn onto the road to head for home, I punched the button on the steering wheel to call home and let Max know we were in good shape and on the way. When I disconnected the call, I could hear the first light snore emanate from our brave young son in the seat next to me. Yeah, he was most definitely wiped out.
After parking in the garage, I got out of the car and quietly closed my door. Walking around to the passenger side, I opened T.J.'s door and unbuckled his seatbelt. I picked up my sleeping passenger, gently cradling him in my arms, bumped the car door closed with my hip and made my way to the door that led to the inside of the house.
After getting the boys in bed, I'd settled in by the fireplace to wait for Tom and T.J. to get back home. Even though Tom had called a few minutes ago to say all was good and they were on the way, I was still anxious as hell. When I finally felt the rumble of the garage door opening, I bolted down the hallway to meet my boys at the door. Impatient as ever, I pulled open the door to the garage to find Tom carrying T.J. in his arms.
"Oh, god, tell me he's okay," I whispered.
"He's fine, babe. He just fell asleep on the way home," Tom whispered back. After getting them in the house, I quietly closed the door and followed along to help put T.J. to bed. When we got to his room, Tom continued to hold our boy as I carefully removed his shoes and socks. Tom finally laid him on the bed and while he worked to peel off T.J.'s shirt, I went to work on his sweatpants. Pulling his pants off revealed he wasn't wearing underwear, but that wasn't really a surprise. With T.J. ready to curl up with his brothers, Tom whispered, "I'm gonna try to wake him just enough to go to the bathroom. He had a coke at Rich's and if he doesn't go now, he'll be up in an hour."
Tom carried the limp lad into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later with a grin on his face. I'd already pulled back the covers and he placed the sleeping boy down close to Mike. T.J. instinctively rolled onto his side and curled up behind Mike as I pulled the cover over him. We quietly left the room, turning off the light and closing the door as we did so. After settling in by the fireplace, I finally let go the huge sigh of relief I'd been storing since they'd left to take Rich home.
"What was that mischievous grin you had carrying T.J. back from the bathroom?" I asked.
"Oh, that," Tom chuckled. "I'd set him on the stool to pee, but he wouldn't wake up enough to let go. So, I dipped his hand in a cup of warm water. And, voilŕ, it worked like a charm, just as it always did on all those scout camping trips. Fifteen seconds after his fingers hit the water, the flow started. Little bugger never even woke up. Not even after I peeled his foreskin back and made sure he was clean."
"I was wondering. So, how'd your mission go tonight? Did Rich's parents take his news okay?" I asked, desperate for information.
"T.J. was half right with his good feeling. Stan pretty much took it in stride, all except for Rich's plan to kill himself. That really upset him." I pulled Stan's gun, clip and spare bullet from my jacket pockets and laid them on the table. "He begged me to take the gun until he knows that Rich isn't thinking of committing suicide any more. His battle-axe of a mother, on the other hand, was something else entirely."
"How so?"
"The bitch flat out said she didn't want a cocksucker for a son and wished he'd actually done it."
"Oh, shit, that's not good."
"No, it isn't, but Stan took care of the problem when he kicked her out of the house."
"You're kidding me! I didn't see that comin'."
"No, neither did I, but Stan said it had been brewing for quite a while."
"But, Rich and his dad are okay, then?"
"Yep, thanks to T.J. I shudder to think what might have happened if the boys hadn't started their support group when they did. I'm as proud of our son as I can be."
"Yeah, me too. I think he deserves something special this weekend, don't you?"
"Um, that depends on what you mean by special. We're gonna have a full house, remember."
"No, not that, goofus, I was thinkin' more like a special meal, or somethin' like that."
"I got an idea for ya'. Why don't you let him help you fly the plane?" Tom asked sarcastically.
"Hey, that's a good idea. You sure you can handle sittin' in the cabin with the boys."
"Piece o' cake, babe. Somebody's gotta keep `em from poppin' the door open at 35,000 feet," Tom laughed. "Might as well be me."
"Uh, you sound like you might be getting over your fear of flying."
"Ha! No chance of that. I'm petrified, but you did promise me some really good drugs," he cracked with a grin.
"I did, didn't I? I'll make sure to grab some out of the medicine cabinet before we leave the house tomorrow." We sat in silence for a moment before I added, "Okay, I can't take any more fun today, I'm going to bed, hon. I'm tired and need a good night's sleep before I try to fly tomorrow. God, I hope I remember how," I added with an evil chuckle.
"Hey! That ain't funny, dammit!" Tom countered.
"Yeah, it kinda is," I replied as I stood up. "You comin' with me?"
"In a little bit, babe. I'm gonna read for a bit and wind down before I try to sleep."
"You're gonna have to read my books someday instead of this drivel from some no-name crackpot. I mean, Stephen King? Who the hell is this dude, anyway?" I asked with a laugh.
"I will, I promise. Hey, maybe I'll take one of yours for the flight tomorrow."
"That's a good idea. It might help take your mind off flying."
"Yeah, that's possible, but I thought it might just as easily put me to sleep, too," he laughed as he dodged the hand about to smack the back of his head.
"Remind me, again, why I asked you to marry me."
"Must be my witty personality and charming looks," he cooed as I sat in his lap.
"Nah, that couldn't be it," I replied, shaking my head. "I've seen gargoyles that are better on both counts."
"Well, if you figure out, let me know, will ya'?"
"Wait, I got it. It's because you complete me. And I don't mean you're just my other half, but that you're my better half, in every way," I added before leaning in to kiss my teddy bear.
"I love you, too, babe," he answered when we broke for air. "I'll be there soon."
"Make sure those guns are locked up in the safe before you join me."
"I will. Now scoot, will ya? I wanna read."
I stood up giving Tom a pitiful pout, but after a light smack on my bare ass, I smiled again and headed for our room and a shower. The shower was short and sweet since I didn't want to wake myself up and, after drying off, I climbed into bed and curled up. I don't know when Tom came to bed, but he was there when the alarm went off at six to remind us is was time to get moving. After a quick bathroom stop, I headed across the house to get the boys moving in the right direction. I could tell they were finally getting into the rhythm of things when all six woke up on the first attempt. Even T.J. was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, despite his later than normal bedtime.
After a quick breakfast of cereal and toast, Tom drove the boys out to wait for the bus. When he came back in the house, he found me rifling through the boys' dressers and closets, packing their bags for our trip. Between the two of us, we quickly had bags for each of the six boys that lived here. Now we just needed Rick and Monica to drop off the bags for their boys and they'd all be ready to go. I carried the bags we had out to the garage and packed them into the Flex so we wouldn't have to think about them later, then met Tom in our room to pack our own bags. We made short work of that chore and as we headed to the garage to add our bags to the load already in the car, the drive sensor announced a guest arriving.
Tom grabbed my bag from my hand and continued on to the garage while I stopped at the front door. When the car rounded the corner of the drive, I yelled, "Tom! Hang on a sec, two more bags coming in." He dropped our two by the door to the garage and came back to join me at the front door. After the car stopped and the driver had climbed out, I opened the door and called out, "Morning, Rick. How ya' doin'?"
"Great, Max, Tom. How's everything goin' over here?"
"We're rolling along," Tom answered as Rick stepped inside and I closed the door.
"Well, here's Eric and Josh's bags for the weekend," Rick said as he handed the bags to us. "I told the boys to ride the bus home with yours this afternoon. When they asked me why, I told `em they'd find out soon enough, so they don't have a clue they're goin' to Chicago for a couple of days."
"Perfect, Rick," I replied. "We're trying to keep it a surprise until we get to the airport."
"Well, I figured if they didn't know what's goin' on, they couldn't spill the beans, so there ya' go. You sure you're up to this, man? It's not too late to back out, ya' know."
"Oh, we're goin'. I need to get the hell outta Dodge for a few days."
"I don't blame you there. I've read the article in the paper the last three days. That's a hell of a story, let me tell you. And today's final piece was the icing on the cake. I'm surprised the TV news isn't here right now."
"They were here yesterday," Tom replied. "What're you talkin' bout, Rick?"
"You haven't read today's part yet?"
"No, we haven't," I answered before turning to Tom and adding, "Go check my e-mail and print it out. I want to see what Hank did." Tom didn't hesitate as he turned and headed for the study.
"Well, I'd love to hang out for a while, but work beckons. Listen, you guys have fun and be careful."
"We will, Rick, on both counts. Thanks for droppin' off the boys' things. Do you want us to bring Eric and Josh home Sunday night or do you want to pick `em up here?"
"Why don't you give me a call when you're on the way home from the airport? I'll swing by on my way home from work to pick `em up. You'll probably need your rest by the time you get here."
"No doubt about that," I laughed.
"Nine boys and two adults. You're a crazy mug, Max. See you guys Sunday night."
"See ya' later, Rick. And you be careful this weekend, too." With a quick salute, Rick turned and headed back down the sidewalk to his car. As I closed the door, Tom returned with today's article from the paper and he was shaking his head as he read and walked. "What?" I asked.
"Oh, you ain't gonna like this shit," he answered as he handed the pages to me.
I read through the article becoming more surprised and upset with each passing paragraph. By the time I reached the end, I was ready to rip someone's head off.
"That son-of-a-bitch. How the fuck did he get the boys' names and where they all came from?"
"I don't know, Max. They obviously had a lot more information than they told us about."
"I'm gonna sue that motherfucker."
"Yeah," Tom scoffed. "Good luck with that."
"What? I know we told him and Peggy we're getting married and adopting, but I don't ever remember giving them the boys' names or saying anything about their lives before they moved in here. How the hell did they pull off that trick? That information isn't available to the public and I know Carol would never have given anything to a reporter."
"If not Carol, then who? Hell, we haven't even told our own families everything about the boys' beginnings."
"It almost has to be someone who works with Carol. They're the only people who know besides us."
"I suppose it's possible the paper has a source in her office like Barry was in the department."
"I wonder if she knows about the article. I'm calling her. She needs to know they might have a problem." I sat in the living room and dialed her number.
She answered the call and said with stress evident in her voice, "I'm sorry, Max, I don't have a lot of time right now."
"You've seen the paper, I take it."
"Anna dropped it on my desk right after I walked in the door. She's absolutely livid."
"And how do you think we're doing right now?"
"Much worse, I'm sure. I don't know what I can say except we're sorry and we're trying to figure out who had access to the boys' files and could have given their information to the paper."
"I hope when you find him, you string him up by the balls."
"Max, most of our people are women, so that wouldn't work too well," she chuckled.
"No, I suppose it wouldn't. What'll happen to them?"
"Whoever it is, first, they'll be fired and second, arrested. Our privacy rules are quite stringent and anyone who defies them pays the price."
"So, what do we do now?"
"There's nothing you can do, Max. The damage is already done. All we can do is try to keep it from happening again."
"Well, you're full of good news today, aren't you?"
"Not really, no. Again, we're really sorry."
"It's okay, Carol, I'm sorry for taking it out on you. I know it wasn't you who did this. Please, keep me updated on what you find out, will you?"
"Of course, Max. Try to have a good day."
"Unlikely, but we'll try." After ending the call, I sat in my chair and stewed for a few before shaking it off and deciding to move on. "Okay, good thing we'll be out of town for a few days. What's next?"
"Well, Vinnie should be showing up shortly, remember? He's gonna move the furniture for Ron back from the storage building."
"Yeah, good. It'll be nice to not have to worry about that anymore." The ringing of the phone interrupted us and Tom answered it.
"Hello, is this Max Sanders?" the caller inquired.
"No. May I tell him who's calling, please," Tom asked.
"This is Yvonne Shields from the Channel 20 news."
"Sorry, Ms. Shields, he's not going to talk to you."
"But why?" she whined. "We really want to air his story."
"Then you should have called before you just showed up on our front step at six in the morning yesterday. Had you extended that small bit of common courtesy, he might have been willing to sit down with you. As it is, you blew it and it's not going to happen, now or ever. Goodbye." Tom ended the call with an evil grin cutting across his face. "That was fun. I've always wanted to tell the news to go fuck themselves."
"I'm happy you finally got your wish." DING! "That's probably Vinnie. Can you deal with him?"
"Sure thing. What do you want brought back to the house?"
"Whatever they took out from the first bedroom. And I want it set up so the only thing left to do is make the bed."
"You got it, babe. What're you gonna be doing?"
"I think I'm going to do some work on the new book. If I don't get started on it, I'll never finish it."
"Uh, yeah, that's the way it usually works," Tom laughed. "I thought you knew that."
"Oh, shut up and take care of Vinnie, smartass."
"Yes, sir!" he replied with a snappy salute. "Your command is my wish."
I stepped over and wrapped Tom in a hug. "Sorry for being such a bitch. That fuckin' paper really pissed me off. I shoulda known better than to trust the likes of them."
"S'okay, babe. I just hope you're in a better mood before we takeoff later."
"I will be, I promise." With that, I turned and headed for my study so I could get to work. I spent a couple of hours in front of the computer and by the time I decided to take a break, I had written the first two chapters of the book covering my early childhood. I was just reaching the point where I was starting to realize I was different from the other boys I knew, so about seven or eight years old. I know most people don't come to the realization of their sexual preference that early, but I know of at least three others who fit the description, especially since they now lived here. I saved my document and headed for the fridge to get something cold to drink.
Tom saw me go into the kitchen and joined me. "I was wondering when you were gonna take a break. You make any progress"
"Yeah, not bad, I guess. This book's gonna be a lot easier to write than the Jake Franklin one's. Well, up to a point that is. It won't get difficult until I start writing about the Muellers. When that time comes, I think it's gonna be a lot harder."
"I should think so, babe."
"But, every time I tell my story, it gets easier. Talking to Jason yesterday was a lot easier to do than telling you the first night all this crap came flooding back. I still hate having to deal with all this shit, but I don't have much choice, do I?"
"I'd do it for you if I could."
"I know, but I wouldn't wish that torture on anyone, Tom. By the way, how'd it go with Vinnie? Is Ron's room all ready to go?"
"Yep, looks just like it did before. Just need to make the bed."
"I think we'll leave that task for Ron to take care of."
"Works for me. Oh, and Dylan called this morning, and with some good news for once. They arrested Ralph Becker early this morning for abusing T.J.'s foster-sister, Olivia. Looks like he'll be joining the Mueller's in hell."
"That's great. T.J. will be happy when he hears she's safe from that monster. I wonder how Nancy and George are dealing with it."
"I don't know, Dylan didn't say. They may not know he's been picked up just yet."
"Well, I hope they get Olivia set up with a good counselor to help her deal with her feelings. She's gonna need some help, for sure."
"If they call, maybe we could recommend Paul. He seems to know what he's doing."
"Good idea. So, what're you fixing for lunch?"
"How does a couple of pizzas from Schwan's sound? We have those personal-sized, sausage pan pizzas in the freezer. Add some pepperoni and extra cheese and they're not too bad."
"That sounds good to me. Make it so." I sat on one of the stools at the counter while he got busy with doctoring a couple of pizzas and popping them in the oven. "Hey, an idea popped in my mind while I was typing, and I want to bounce it off you, see what you think."
"Hope whatever popped didn't hurt," he chuckled. "Bounce away."
"I know we've wanted to keep the boys out of the stories about my abuse because it really isn't fair to drag them into it. But, since the paper got their information from somebody and it's now out in the wild, I'm thinking we may want to include them in my interview Monday afternoon. Now that it's pretty well known in the local area that I'm done hiding in a closet, getting married, and we're in the process of adopting the boys, why not let them tell their stories?"
"Why the hell would you want them to do that after all we've done to protect them from exposure?"
"Like I said, the paper's already let those cats out of the bag. I think having the boys tell their stories will help draw attention to the problem gay kids have in being adopted, or even fostered, and we could maybe help solve part of the problem. At least in this part of the state."
"I don't know Max. That seems pretty extreme."
"Well, think about it, will you? I think it would make a big difference, but if you don't agree, we won't do it."
"Okay, I'll think about it."
The rest of our lunch was fairly quiet as Tom gave my idea serious consideration. When we were done eating, I cleaned up our dishes and dropped them in the dishwasher since Tom had fixed the meal. As I was about to return to my writing, the drive sensor announced a new visitor, so I turned towards the front door instead. A bright red, late-model Corvette pulled up into the circle drive and a strikingly beautiful woman extricated herself from the driver's seat. I might be a gay man, but I can still recognize and admire nature's finest handiwork in all people. She stopped at the passenger door and retrieved a travel bag before turning for the front door. As she stepped up onto the porch, I opened the front door to let her in.
"Good afternoon, you must be Brent's mom, Monica. Come in."
"Thank you, are you Max?" she asked in a delightfully cheery voice.
"I am. My fiancé, Tom, is sitting over by the fireplace." Tom raised his head from his book and gave Monica a jaunty little wave of greeting. "Here, let me take that," I offered, extending my hand to accept Brent's overnight baggage. "Would you like some coffee or tea?"
"Thank you, tea sounds nice. I'd like to visit for a bit and get to know the men who will be responsible for my son the next couple days."
"Help yourself to a chair in the living room and I'll be there in a moment." I turned to Tom and asked, "You want anything to drink while I'm at it?"
"Nah, I'm good."
I made my way to the kitchen while Monica perched herself on the loveseat. Leaving Brent's bag on the kitchen counter, I filled Monica's drink request, along with a glass for myself, and headed to join her and Tom. For the next thirty minutes, Tom and I sparred with the lovely Monica, answering a myriad of questions about who we are, where we came from and where we're going. When she finally wound down, we felt as if we'd been interrogated by a master.
"Well, I think you'll take good care of my son on your trip," Monica finally said.
"Thanks," I replied, "we'll do our best."
"I have only one more question I'd like to ask. Brent told me about something that happened during your sons' birthday party and I want to make sure he's not feeding me a line of shit." Oh, fuck, here we go. Was it time for me to start searching for countries that don't have extradition agreements with the US? "Is it true that a good part of the pool party ended up with all the boys skinny-dipping?"
"Well, yeah, that's what happened. But, it wasn't supposed to," I answered defensively while Tom and I turned bright red in embarrassment.
"Oh, don't have cow, you two. They're boys, what the hell did you think was gonna happen?"
"It sure wasn't that," Tom replied. "We made sure Joey and Alex knew the rules, but once a few of the boys accidentally lost their suits while being flipped around, we kinda lost control of the situation."
"Tom, if I know my Brent at all, and I'm pretty sure I do, he probably helped orchestrate the whole thing. It's damn near impossible for me to keep him even minimally clothed at home. Most of the time, he lounges around the house in nothing more than his little league jock strap. And while I may allow that and be used to it, I thought, maybe, he'd show a bit more restraint outside the house. Perhaps my expectations were a bit too high."
Feeling like I'd dodged a major bullet, I responded with a chuckle and, "Well, since we're being so honest about things, Monica," I started, "you should probably know we're a nudist household. We tend to not be dressed when we're at home. So, while we were surprised at the developments during the party, it wasn't anything all that unusual. And Tom and I and our lifeguards did not join the boys in their free-for-all."
"Well, that's a shame. If you can't be comfortable in your own home, then what's the point? If my husband wasn't such an uptight prick, I have no doubt Brent would be nude at home all the time. The boy just doesn't like to wear clothes."
"We have the same problem here, Monica," Tom laughed. "Our boys would probably go to school in their birthday suits if they could get by with it."
"Well, I want you to know that I'm not a prude and if Brent chooses to be nude when he's with you and your boys, I'm fine with that. I'm fine if you are, also. If that's what you're used to doing, then don't feel you need to remain clothed when Brent's around. And since it seems like Alex and Brent are going to be seeing a lot of each other in the future, I wouldn't want his presence to cramp your lifestyle."
"Thanks, Monica, we appreciate your trust," I replied, breathing a sigh of relief that the conversation seemed to be coming to a close.
"Besides, it's my understanding that Brent owes Max a little favor and it would be rather difficult for him to follow through on his promise if you were clothed." I had picked a bad moment to wet my whistle and nearly choked myself as the tea went down the wrong way. At least it didn't spray out of my nose this time. After my paroxysms abated, Monica continued. "Sorry if I scared you, Max. But, Brent and I talk about everything, and I do mean everything. I've been very open with him about sex and sexuality, in all its myriad of possibilities. It's never too early to discuss the subjects with your children. He's already told me that he is most likely gay, and he wants to explore those feelings more deeply. He's also told me that while he really likes Alex, he's also expressed an interest in interacting and engaging with older men. So, if his exploration includes the two of you, then that's Brent's decision to make."
"Wait, you're okay with that?" I asked, incredulous at her suggestion. "I find that hard to believe."
"Look, Max, Tom, after the grilling I just gave you two, I feel very comfortable knowing that if something sexual happens between my son and you, it will be because Brent initiated it, not you. I want Brent to make his own decisions about his growth and development, but I also want him to do so safely. I don't think he could be any safer than he would be with you two. It's my impression that you would never force someone to do anything against their will. Or have I read you wrong?"
Still amazed we were actually having this discussion, I answered, "No, you're not wrong. After what I went through, I'd never do that to anyone."
"Ah, yes, the story that's been in the paper the last several days. I've been following it with considerable interest, especially with how it may relate to Brent. I'm so sorry you had to go through that ordeal, but that is exactly the type of thing I'm hoping to prevent happening to my son. Unfortunately, with Ben being so inhibited and unable to help his son learn about his true self, I feel I must turn to outside sources to help our son. If you and Tom, along with Alex, are willing to help guide Brent in a positive direction, then I'm more than willing to allow it to occur."
"That's a very different attitude than what the rest of the world holds, Monica," I commented with relief.
"And lucky for you I have that attitude, don't you think? Otherwise, you'd be sitting in the same jail with your abusers right now for fellating my son. So, my proposal to you is this; I'll keep your secret if you help my son discover all the joys of life. Safely."
"We appreciate your discretion and honesty, Monica," Tom replied. "You can be assured we won't abuse your trust in any way."
"I didn't think you would, or I'd never have suggested the arrangement. Besides, if I can help Brent satisfy his sexual curiosity about what it's like to be with a man without him molesting my husband or being hurt by someone we don't know, I'll be happy and so will Brent." Monica glanced at her watch and added, "Well, would you look at the time? I really must be going. Thank you both for your time this afternoon. It's certainly been a pleasure to get to know you better. I do hope I haven't shocked you in any way. However, as unorthodox as my thoughts may be, I'm just looking out for the safety and well-being of my son."
"I promise you, Monica, if anything happens between us and Brent, it will only be at Brent's request."
As Monica stood to take her leave, she added, "Not if Max, when, because I guarantee you Brent has not forgotten his promise to you. I hope you all have fun on your trip."
"Thank you, we hope we will, too," I replied as I stood and followed her to the front door. I watched as she stepped off the porch, made her way down the sidewalk and climbed into her car, offering a little goodbye wave over the top of the gleaming machine just before closing the car's door. After closing the front door, I turned and numbly walked back to the living room to rejoin Tom.
"A penny for your thoughts, babe," Tom offered.
"If I'm not suffering from a stroke or some other serious brain affliction, did I just hear her give us permission to, uh, teach Brent the finer points of gay sex?"
"Funny you should ask, `cause I was just gonna ask you the same question. But, yeah, that's what I heard."
"Holy crap, I thought so. Pinch me."
"What!?"
"Pinch me, dammit, I wanna make sure I'm not dreaming." Tom reached across the gap between our chairs and did exactly as I requested. "OW!" I squealed before adding, "Nope, not dreamin'. And here I was, believing our lives couldn't get much more interesting than they already are. Guess I was wrong, wasn't I?"
"Just how interesting can it get?" Tom asked.
"Uh, don't ask questions you don't know the answers to, Tom. The answers may not be the ones you expect," I laughed.
"Ain't that the truth."
"Hey, I'm gonna toss Brent's bag in the car. Can you think of anything else we need to take with us?"
"Not really. I'm assuming we'll be eating out or going shopping for food after we get there. And if we do go shopping, then anything we've forgotten, we'll just pick it up."
"Sounds good to me. Well, since all we need before we can leave is nine boys, I'm going to go do some more work on the book. That okay with you?"
"I'm not going anywhere. I'll probably call Carol in little bit to let her know I'm ready to start doing the agency's background checks on Monday."
"Be nice to have you back work, hon."
"You know it." Tom returned to his book while I turned and made my way to the study to continue my work on the new book.
I'd been watching the clock for ten minutes, waiting for the damn bell to ring so we could start our weekend. When it finally sounded, Joey, Logan and I grabbed our bookbags, moved across our classroom to pluck our coats off the rack by the door, then headed out into the crowded hallway. We turned left to head for the doors that would take us to the bus, but we waited inside until the other three had joined us. "Hey, guys, you ready for the weekend?" I asked when everyone was assembled.
"Yeah," they all yelled to be heard above the din of the other students walking out to their own busses.
"Well, we better get on the damn bus before it leaves without us, then," Joey said.
"Yeah, let's go guys."
As I turned for the door, a voice from behind us yelled, "Alex, wait up!"
I turned back around to find Brent weaving his way through the crowd of kids towards the six of us.
"What the hell does Brent want?" T.J. asked.
"I don't know," I answered.
"Joey, hang on, dude!" came at us from the other hallway leading to the doors where we waited.
The six of us turned as one to find Josh and Eric pushing their way through the insane crowd.
"Now Josh and Eric?" I asked as confusion took over.
The other three finally reached our group and Joey asked, "What are you guys doing here?"
"We don't know," Josh replied as he leaned in and shared a quick kiss with Joey.
"Yeah, Dad just told us this morning we were to find you guys and ride the bus to your house this afternoon," Eric added.
I looked to Brent and he answered, "Same here, dude. Mom left a message at the office telling me to do the same and Ms. Miller brought it to me. So, here I am. Anybody got a clue what's goin' on?" Brent asked before leaning to give me a kiss.
"Nope, our dads didn't say nothin'," I answered. "But if you're riding with us, we better get movin'."
All nine of us turned and pelted out the door like scalded apes, making a mad dash for our bus at the head of the line. As we climbed on to take our seat, Carl looked at us and said to Eric, Josh and Brent, "You guys don't ride this bus. Did you make a wrong turn somewhere?"
Eric, being the oldest, took over. "We don't normally ride any bus, Mr. Weathers. But our parents told us we're to go with Joey, Alex and their brothers today."
"That's fine by me. Find somewhere to sit so we can get moving."
The nine of us moved towards the back of the bus and finally found four benches together that would hold all nine of us. Taking our seats, our conversation for the next twenty-five minutes consisted of us trying to figure out what plans our parents had concocted for us for the weekend.
I stepped out of the study at three-thirty and located Tom still reading in the living room.
"We should get moving. The boys will be here in about ten minutes. I'd like to meet them when the bus drops them off so we're not wasting any more time than we need to."
"I'm ready when you are. We just need our coats and shoes."
"Let me get you some Dramamine and something else to settle your nerves. I'll be right back." I returned to our bathroom, retrieved a few pills for the scaredy-cat, then stopped in the study to retrieve a copy of the first Jake Franklin book for Tom to start reading. As I moved back through the house, I was turning out lights and making sure everything was secured. I finally met Tom at the door to the garage where he'd been waiting and holding onto my coat and shoes. After slipping into both, we stepped out into the garage.
"Which car do you want?"
"The Shelby, of course. It should be a quieter ride to the airport since I'll have only three boys with me."
"Yeah, I figured as much. And I bet you're gonna want Eric, Josh and Brent to ride with you."
"Sure, sounds okay to me," Tom answered with an evil grin.
"C'mon, smartass, let's go. Once we hit the road, just follow me, okay?"
"But of course, master," he answered with a laugh.
We drove to the end of the drive and waited patiently for the bus to arrive. When I finally saw it coming up the road a few minutes later, I got out of the Flex and waved for Tom to join me. We were standing side-by-side in front of the Flex when Carl opened the doors and the bus disgorged nine wilder-than-normal boys. They ran over to the two of us as Carl pulled away with a quick wave. After some quick hugs from the herd, Alex was the first to say something.
"Hey, dads, what's goin' on?"
"Yeah, and why are Eric, Josh and Brent here?" Joey added
"Well, I thought we'd take your friends to supper tonight. Is that okay?"
"Yeah! Where we goin'?" T.J. asked.
"That's a surprise, guys. Why don't we get in the cars and hit the road?"
"Uh, it's awful early for supper, Mr. Sanders," Eric offered.
"Well, we have to do a little bit of travelin' to get where we're gonna eat, so load `em up. Eric, Josh, Brent, in the Shelby with Tom. The rest of you with me." I turned to get back into the Flex and was followed by our confused six while Tom and the other equally confused three fell into the Shelby. With everyone buckled up and ready to roll, I pulled out of the driveway to begin our weekend away.
"So, really, Dad, where we goin'?" Alex begged.
"I'm not ruining the surprise, silly, so stop asking," I retorted.
"Hey, Dad," came a voice from the back row.
"Yes, Mike."
"What's with all these bags in the back?"
"That's just some junk we need to drop off on our way to supper. Why don't you guys watch a movie for a while?" I asked in a weak effort to divert their attention. Fortunately, they went for it and all six were soon engrossed in The Spiderwick Chronicles. When we reached Veteran's Parkway, I turned left to head to the airport and the boys, who were still watching the movie, didn't seem to notice.
It wasn't until we were two-thirds of the way to Walnut Street that Alex poked his head up and asked, "Where the heck we goin' to eat, the middle of nowhere?"
"Just a little bit further, son," I answered. However, Alex's question had piqued the interest of the other five and I was now fielding questions from all six.
"Ohmigod, how did I miss this?" T.J. finally squealed while clapping his hands in excitement and bouncing up and down in his seat.
"Sh-h-h," I hissed. "Keep it inside, T.J., please." I'd been afraid one of the three would divine the answer to their multitude of questions before we got to the airport and was nicely surprised that only one had seemed to do so. So far, anyway. Perhaps there was enough other confusion and crazy thoughts flyin' through the air that Alex and Joey couldn't focus on my mind at the moment.
After turning left onto Walnut Street, I drove past the main entrance of the airport and continued on to the next one, as that's where my plane is hangared. Finally turning into the airport itself, Joey asked, "What are we doin' at the airport, Dad? There's no place to eat here."
"Yeah, I know, but this is where we're dropping off all those bags in the back." I pulled up to the gate blocking access to the private hangars, inserted my key card into the electronic sentinel and waited for the gate to rise. As soon as it started to move, I did, also, to insure Tom would be able to drive in right behind me. With both of us inside the gate, I led the way to the parking spots reserved for pilots who stored their planes here. After shutting off the car, I waited until Tom was parked next to me before getting out and telling the boys to hop out also.
When all eleven of us were gathered at the back of the Flex, I opened the tailgate and handed a bag to each person. "Okay guys, this is where we drop off the bags. Everybody follow me." I knew the boys were confused beyond belief to be at the airport, but I was having some serious fun with this surprise. I led the way to the FBO's* entry and held the door open as I let everyone precede me inside. Once I joined the crowd, I asked, "Why don't you guys wait for me by those doors right over there?", pointing in the direction I needed them to go. "I need to talk to the guy at the counter over here for just a moment before we can take the bags where they need to go." Tom led them over to the spot I'd selected while I turned for the counter. As I neared the counter, I held a finger to my lips asking Jeff to be quiet.
Upon reaching the counter, Jeff whispered, "Evening, Mr. Sanders."
"Hey, Jeff how ya', doin'? Everything ready outside?"
"You bet. Here's the flight plan we filed for you. We had to change your destination to Chicago Executive airport since Miegs Field is closed and has been for a while. I'd forgotten about that when you called, or I would have said something to you then. Check it over and make sure everything's correct, please."
I gave the plan a quick glance and nodded my head to let him know everything was perfect. "Wow, shows how long it's been since I've flown to Chicago, doesn't it? It woulda really sucked to try and land in Lake Michigan. Thanks for your help, Jeff. I guess we'll be on our way."
"We've also arranged for tie-down at Executive and a limo to pick you up when you get there. Be careful, Mr. Sanders and have a safe flight. We'll see you Sunday afternoon." I shook Jeff's hand and turned to join my group.
As I got closer, I said, "Okay, we need to go out here and put these bags on an airplane. Everybody follow me and stay close together. There may be equipment moving around out here and we need to be careful we don't get in their way." I led the way outside and after spotting where my plane was parked, I steered the parade in that direction. When we reached the plane, I continued around to the left side to a small hatch just below the jet engine. I pulled a key from my pocket and opened the door to the baggage compartment. "Okay, everybody put their bag inside here and push it as far forward as you can. Bigger guys go first so you push it in further." I went first to demonstrate what I meant, and was followed by Tom, then Eric and on down the line to Andy.
When the final bag was stowed and the compartment relocked, I stepped back and added, "Since we're here and I know the guy who owns this plane, would you like to see the inside?" With a resounding chorus of agreement, I led the way back around the tip of the wing to the cabin door. Again, using the key from my pocket, I unlocked and opened the cabin door. Next, I unfolded the steps, then quickly stepped up into the cockpit and flipped on the battery switch so I could turn on the interior lights. "Okay, come on in and make yourself comfortable. Tom and I are going to walk around the exterior for a few minutes."
As the boys clambered inside, I corralled Tom and began my pre-flight inspection, pointing out things to Tom as I did so. Even though I knew the FBO employees has already done this when they pulled the plane out of the hangar, I always do my own inspection. You can never be too safe at 35,000 feet. With our walk-around completed, the wheels chocks pulled and my mind settled, we climbed inside the plane and I pulled up the steps, allowing them to refold into their normal position for our flight.
As we stood just inside the door, I gave a little whistle to get the boys' attention. When they had quieted back down, I asked, "Okay, you all ready to go to supper?" With another chorus of agreement, they started to stand up and head for the door. "Wait!" I yelled. "Where y'all goin'?"
"You said we were going to supper," Joey complained as puzzled expressions filled all their faces. All of them, of course, except for T.J., who was sporting the biggest ear-to-ear shit-eatin' grin I've ever seen.
"Oh, right, I did. Well, I guess if y'all wanna eat supper with the Pops and me, you better plant your butts in a seat and buckle up `cause ... we're eating in Chicago tonight."
Eighteen eyes lit up like camera flashes as the boys suddenly realized what was happening.
Before anybody complains about the sudden change of airports from what was written in chapter 62, I have a little confession to make. As I was wrapping up this chapter and thinking forward to what happens next, I suddenly realized I needed to make sure Max's plane would be able to land and take off again at Miegs Field. Miegs was a small airport that was built in lake Michigan, next to the Adler Planetarium. If you would like to see some information about the airport, follow this link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meigs_Field.
So, I jumped on the internet for some quick research to make sure that the runway at Miegs was long enough to accommodate the Citation CJ4 Max owns and, much to my chagrin, discovered that it was abruptly closed in 2003 when then Chicago Mayor Richard Daley had the runway bulldozed. Since this story is taking place in the year 2025, I couldn't very well have Max attempt to land at an airport that's been gone for 22 years. Knowing the two major airports in Chicago, O'Hare and Midway, were unlikely to accept private jets, I did a quick search and I found the most likely airport Max would use would be Chicago Executive. So, instead of going back to chapter 62 and trying to make the correction in the past (story-wise, anyway), I made the correction here. This near mistake just proves the old adage, `It pays to plan ahead'. I'm adding to that, `whether in real life or in fiction, and especially when flying'. 😊
*For those of you with inquiring minds, the abbreviation FBO as used in this story is an acronym for `Fixed Base Operator' or `Fixed Base Operations'. FBOs are located at a majority of the airports across the country and they provide such things as fuel, tiedowns or hangar space and mechanical services for general aviation and private pilots. If you'd like more information on the subject, here's another link to a Wikipedia article on the subject: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fixed-base_operator.