Date: Wed, 3 Oct 2007 10:26:34 -0400
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: CHRIS & THE COACH - 11

CHRIS & THE COACH - 11

Copyright 2007 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written
permission of the author.   However based on real events and places, "Chris &
the Coach" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  As in real life, however, the
sexual themes unfold gradually.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may
be addressed to the author at carl_mason@comcast.net

If you would like to read additional stories by this author, please turn to the
"Authors/Prolific Authors" link at the beginning of the Nifty Archive.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults
and teenagers.   As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal
enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of legal age to read
such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or
if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally,
remember that maturity generally demands safe sex.


CHAPTER 11

(Revisiting Chapter 10)

Clutching at his arm, Brother Samuel drew Chris slightly away from the auto.  Looking
down at the ground, he murmured, "Mr. Hempel tells me that you understand a great
deal about the many problems of helping these drug-addicted perverts to resume some
place in life.  He has been reluctant to offer any help to us with regard to Wade, but,
perhaps, we might come to some understanding. My card..."  With that he headed back
to the car, motioning for Wade to get out and move to the front seat.  His face frozen,
his left hand tightly clutching the wreath given him by Mike Nagy and his two ribbons,
the boy immediately did as he had been ordered.

A few miles down the road, Brother asked Wade if he remembered the rule about
personal possessions.  "Yes, Brother," the lad whispered in an utterly defeated voice.
"Fine then," Brother continued.  "If you will open the window and rid yourself of that...
trash."

(Concluding Our Story:  Conversations)

     Chris and Mr. Hempel

Only two days passed before Chris contacted Wade's father and arranged an
appointment with him at his home in Lawton.  Greeted as a friend, he offered his
condolences on his wife's death.  Finally, he asked politely if Wade had told him of the
way in which the boys were treated by the Brothers.  "No, Chris," he had answered,
"mainly because I have had no contact with him since placing him in the school."
"Forgive me, sir, but may I ask why that is?" Chris had asked.  "There are several
reasons, my young friend.  For instance, the doctor who recommended their schools as
producing results suggested that the treatment would go faster if I stayed out of the
way.  Secondly, and let me be honest with you, my feelings about homosexuality have
undergone a major change.  When we talked earlier, I thought I could accept it in my
son - because he was my son - if not in general.  Further thought and study have
convinced me that it is a pestilence, virulent and contagious, that must be removed
from our culture, if need be surgically.  I must also admit that several contacts over the
past few months have suggested that I want as little to do with the Doctors' business
practices as possible."  Seeing Chris' raised eyebrows, he continued. "The tuition and
fees charged for attending their schools are extremely high, Chris...higher than the most
expensive private schools.  At one point, they contacted me and suggested that Wade's
life at the school could be considerably easier if I provided supplementary moneys.  You
will guess that I told them I couldn't care less about his life being easier; I wanted his
perversion exorcised!  He now works additional hours on their farm to provide needed
supplements, including extra "aversion therapy" for his sexual problems - and that's the
way I think it ought to be.  Brother Primus also contacted me to see if I would lead an
effort to build one if their schools in this area.  Frankly, Chris, I think it's bad enough that
those vermin are a day's journey away.  I surely have no desire to see them in my
backyard!

"Don't think that I approve of every aspect of their program, Chris.  I don't.  I think that
you and your father could probably do a better job with him than the Brothers.  Wade
needs a role model in addition to that which the Brothers provide at exorbitant cost.  I
was proud of the way that you immediately turned Wade over to the hospital and the
authorities when you discovered him caught in the snares of that photography queer.  I
only wish there were more All-State and All-American boys who would get in there and
show children like Wade how to live!  That's the reason that I told Brother Primus about
your 'Senior Olympics'.  Did he do anything about it?"  "Yes," replied Chris, "one of his
staff brought him up here for the program."  "Good for him," Mr.  Hempel replied,
"although I'm a bit surprised.  No doubt I'll receive a bill for the trip!"

"What would it take for Wade to be able to return home?" Chris finally asked.  "That will
never happen," Hempel replied grimly.  "He has too many problems that I can't handle,
and I will not have him infecting others!  Naturally, I do realize that I have obligations -
legal and moral.  I'll pay for his care until he's eighteen.  I'll even support further
education - for instance, a trade school - if that turns out to be a reasonable course of
action.  It's just that he is no longer part of this family.

"I'm sorry, Chris,  but I'm working on a most important project.  Will you forgive me if I
now return to the laboratory?"  "Of course, sir," Chris replied.  "Thank you for your time."

As scorching hot as it was inside the car, Chris leaned his head forward against the
steering wheel.  If he didn't have a father who was worse, he would never have believed
that a man could speak about his son as had Mr. Hempel.  Never for a moment...and it
wasn't just his sexual attraction to Wade that caused him to say that!  Yet, here he was
on the verge of graduating and leaving for college to study he didn't know what.  Driving
off, he choked on the bile as it rose in his throat.

     Chris and the Coach

After they had cleaned up from supper, Chris came over and sat on the floor beside
Coach's chair.  Coach held his coffee in one hand and reached down with the other to
toy with his boy's shaggy brown curls.  Pulling affectionately on an ear, he murmured,
"We don't do this much anymore.  I miss it.  What's on your mind, love?"

Chris first gave his chosen father a rather detailed report on the day before, including
who said and did what and what the feelings had seemed to be.  The poison from the
afternoon conversation with Mr. Hempel then poured out of the lad as he tried to avoid
breaking down.  Chris first heard his father put his coffee saucer down on the side
table.  Then he stood, reached a hand down for Chris, and said, "Let's go sit down
together on the couch.  At first, Coach simply threw an arm around his son's shoulders,
but as the lad lay down and rested his head in Coach's lap, he began lightly to rub his
hair and the back of his neck.  "I had almost forgotten how great that feels, Dad," Chris
said dreamily.  "If you want more, take off your shirt and I'll rub your back," his father
murmured.  When the shirtless boy lay back down and managed to get comfortable,
Coach began rubbing his neck, then delighted in his heavy triceps and deltoids before
moving on.  God he was a beautiful creature...one of God's greatest gifts to his life!

"I heard from the A.D. [Athletic Director] at Princeton today," he began.  "He wanted me
to know that I was on the short list for the head coach's job when Pat Norris retires after
one more year."  "Is it a sure thing, Dad?" Chris inquired.  "Well, I thought it was, but
you know how disappointing this year was.  Fortunately, I really have the horses to
make things work this fall.  It does mean, however, that I'm going to be spending even
more time at the field, beginning in late August.  In any case, it sounds to me that
saving Wade Hempel is going to take a lot more time and energy than I'm going to
have.  Further, I know you sure as hell aren't going to my little jerkwater college.  At last
report, Notre Dame, Alabama, and Southern Cal were really putting the pressure on
you for a commitment.  Where does that leave us?"

"I only wish I knew," Chris rumbled.  "I'm not at all sure that I want to play at that level...
and I mean in any sport.  On top of that, I'm not sure about a major.  I think I've got the
ability to make a lot of money, but I'm still drawn to 'helping people'...and I don't mean
as a successful CEO or politician."  Chris abruptly turned on his side, coming close to
scraping off the better part of his dad's equipment.  "HEY, WAIT JUST A DARNED
MINUTE!  Did you say something about 'saving Wade Hempel'?"

"Yeah," Coach said after he had checked and found that nothing vital was missing.  "I'm
reasonably convinced that that's what we're talking about.  The fact remains that I
couldn't manage it with you miles away and my trying to meet a professional goal that
I've had most of my life.  What would you think of spending a year here working with me
on Wade, letting your vocational plans mature a bit, maybe taking a basic course or two
per term at the College that would transfer, and then all THREE of us going on to
Princeton?  You could get in, you know.  If you had been here for more than one year,
you would probably have been the valedictorian!  As a matter of fact, the A.D. would
probably give his right ball - maybe both of them with financial assistance thrown in - to
get you playing for Old Nassau!"

"I sometimes think that you have an evil mind, Dad!" Chris sputtered.  "When are you
going to talk with Mr. Hempel?"

(Mixed Blessings)

It was well past midnight on Saturday of the weekend before graduation when Seth
dropped Chris off in his truck.  Standing in the protective shadow of a great tree, Seth
bent down and lightly kissed Chris.  Suddenly, a shot rang out and Seth dropped
heavily to the ground.  A second shot narrowly missed Chris.  The Coach came running
and, not long thereafter, the police and an ambulance appeared.

Rushing to the hospital, they found that Seth was in critical condition, but Dr. Tom gave
him a good chance to make it.  It was a long night with parents and then close friends
stopping by.  Rather bleary eyed, Dr. Tom came into the waiting room at about 6:00
a.m.  Seth would fully recover, though Dr. Tom said he wouldn't play any football that
fall.  Maybe a little baseball in the spring...if he really worked at his recovery.  When he
saw him the next day, Chris volunteered to captain his recovery team.  Seth didn't
realize at that moment that this meant Chris would be around for another year, but
before it had passed he wondered aloud several times what he had ever done to
deserve such a friend!

As Chris and the Coach passed the main hospital desk on their way to an early
breakfast before returning home, the nurse on duty told Coach that the Chief of Police
had asked that he call.  When Coach caught up with him, the Chief had the best kind of
news.  They hadn't gotten away this time!  Both Smitty and Chris' stepfather had been
caught on their way out of town.  They were already loudly blaming each other in an
effort to escape the worst possibilities that faced them.  The Chief predicted they'd be
spending a long time together in the State Penitentiary.

(A Second Son)

The discussion between Coach and Mr. Hempel was, to put it diplomatically, "frank".
Was it true that Wade was no longer a member of his family, nor would he ever be?
Yes.  Was it true that he had told Chris that he would have more confidence in their
straightening the boy out than in the Brothers?  Yes.  Hempel's questions were no less
frank.  Did Coach realize that he wished no further contact with Wade at any time or in
any way?  Yes.  Mentioning the figure of $65,000.00 per year that he was paying the
Brothers, he asked if that would be sufficient for Coach to assume their responsibilities.
Naturally, until the boy was eighteen, a figure could be built into the contract for
inflation.  Yes.  Coach countered: In return for his immediately assuming all of Mr.
Hempel's financial obligations, would he irrevocably surrender all parental rights and
accept his adopting Wade?  Yes (with a hard swallow and the hint of a smile that
played around the corners of his mouth).  Given his provision of a written contract,
would he withdraw Wade from the Brothers' school within the week.  Yes, absolutely.
Coach left the Hempel home as quickly as humanly possible.  On returning home, he
stayed under the shower until the hot water ran out.  When Chris first returned home,
he thought he heard sobbing upstairs - but that surely couldn't be, for his father was the
only other person in the house.  The upshot of all this was that the contract was drawn
up, signed, and notarized.  Furthermore, the Brothers agreed to cancel their contract on
Tuesday next, the first day that Chris could drive down and get him.  (The Brothers
were sorry, but they lived deep in a rural area.  At this time, it was impossible for them
to return Wade personally or to assist him in reaching extremely limited public
transportation.)

Leaving well before daybreak on Tuesday morning, Chris arrived at the school around
three.  It was a blazing hot day and the humidity was nearly as high as the temperature.
Chris and the elderly Brother at the front desk of the Administration Building exchanged
legal documents.  The Brother then directed Chris to follow the outside sidewalk around
to the rear of the building where he would find a small courtyard protected by a chain-
link fence.  He should not touch the fence but, rather, wait for a loud click that would
signify that the Brother had unlocked the gate electronically.  Wade was waiting for him.

Chris couldn't quite believe what he found when he approached the "protected"
courtyard.  Wade clad only in a ridiculously small, tattered piece of thin white cloth that
simply hung down in front of his heavy genitals sat apathetically on the concrete floor in
the full sun.  Heavily tanned, he seemed completely unaware of Chris' approach.  As
Chris reached the fence, he heard a loud click.  The gate swung open at his touch.
Wade barely looked up.  When he did, what he saw didn't seem immediately to register.
"Chris?" he finally croaked in a raspy whisper.  When Chris took a step towards him, he
cried "Chris!" and struggled painfully to rise.  Chris, who barely recognized the pitiful
figure, caught the lad as he tottered unsteadily.  He had obviously been freshly shaved,
this time including his eyebrows and the hair on his head.  With gut-wrenching sobs he
buried his head in his friend's chest.  Keeping an iron grip on his emotions, Chris
hoisted the heavy lad onto his shoulders and set out for the parking area.

Once at the car, he sat Wade down in the shade, gave him a drink, and got the car's
AC operating at the highest setting.  Dumping the remnants of a thermos of cool water
over a hand towel, he wrapped it around the boy's head as best he could and helped
him into the cooling car.  His first stop was at the local hospital's emergency room.  A
young intern checked Wade out and said that the youngster would be ok.  "From the
Brothers?" he asked with a grimace.  "Yeah," Chris answered and asked for directions
to the Police Department.  "Forget it," the young doctor said sadly.  "They've got every
cop, sheriff, and judge in the county in their pocket.  There'll be a report on file here.
When you get home, work through the U.S. Department of Justice."  Dressed in a pair
of old, but clean scrubs that the intern scraped up, Wade insisted on limping out to the
car with the aid of his buddy.

Some miles outside the County, munching on Micky D's finest, Wade told Chris how
terrified he had been all day.  "When they clean you out, scrape every hair off your
body, scrub you down with a stiff brush, and put you in the holding pen," he said, "it
means only one thing.  You're being 'transferred' to a place that's ten times worse than
where I was.  One guy I knew came back from there and told me things that I still don't
want to believe."  "They didn't tell you that I was driving down here?" Chris asked.  "No
way, Chris!  Oh, Chris...I'm so glad to see you!"  On the way back, Chris filled him in on
all that had been happening - in addition to the relationship that Coach and he were
offering him.  (For the rest of the trip, Wade swung crazily between hysterical laughter,
tears, and inching as close to Chris as he could without causing an accident!) When the
boy saw Coach, he simply ran into his arms and hugged him as if he never wanted to
let go.

(Postscript)

After a year, they were still battling the Brothers in the federal courts, but the Brothers
had received so much bad publicity that their business was teetering on the edge of
bankruptcy.

Coach's team came close to winning the 1-AA National Championship and he did move
on to Princeton.  As he predicted, Chris was not only offered admission, but he was
also given generous financial assistance.  He played football for the Tigers for four
wonderful years.

Wade had a tremendous sophomore year - academically, athletically, and socially - but
he joined his new family in moving to Princeton with few regrets.  However extreme the
claim, he always swore that he loved Chris and the Coach as much as they loved him!

Chris graduated from Princeton with a major in psychology.  A respected Academic All-
American, he was honored with a graduate scholarship at Harvard for study in clinical
psychology with an emphasis on work with adolescents.

To no one's surprise, Coach adopted both young men, young men who freely chose to
adopt their new father's surname.


                             			THE END


AUTHOR'S NOTE:  A new story, "The New Earth" - my second effort in Gay/SciFi-
Fantasy - should be ready to begin posting in a week or so.  I hope that I'll have further
contact with many of you there!

Good reading!
Carl