Date: Thu, 23 Oct 2008 15:35:30 -0700 (PDT) From: adm2780 Subject: Second Time Around Chapter Twenty-Six All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a realistic level. If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is not the story for you. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between males, adult and minor. As such it is homoerotic, designed for the entertainment of mature adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral dilemmas, please exit now. NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and editing the chapters. Want to read a couple of good stories? Try "Never Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give". They are both excellent. Chapter Twenty-Six: Second Time Around There is a reason they call red-eye flights, red-eye flights. I was on a flight out of Jacksonville a little after eight Saturday night and landed in New York after two in the morning. This was not a pleasure trip. It was not a trip I chose to make. It was a necessity. Sgt. Morgan's tone, together with the injuries he described that Sean had sustained, and the fact that Sean and Phyllis, Sean's mother, had asked for me to come, left me no choice. The boys wanted to come with me, but I told them that it would be very late when I came back Sunday night and they needed their rest for school. That was only half of my concern, the weaker half. My major concern was how they would react to seeing Sean's injuries. The boys thought they were old enough and mature enough to handle many things that I thought they still needed to be protected from; they were still just kids whether they liked it or not. When I suggested the boys stay at their grandmother's, that really got them in an uproar. They insisted they were old enough to take care of themselves and I had to stifle a laugh when I remembered, not only the number of times I had heard that line from them, but how many times I used that same line on my parents. They didn't give up and even managed to win their grandmother's support. When Mother supported their argument, I knew I was out-gunned, particularly when Mother said she would come over and take care of dinner Sunday afternoon, and I gave in. However, if I found that I couldn't get back Sunday evening they had to go to their grandmothers and stay until I did return. The boys were happy, at least two of them were. When I gave in to Michael and Frank, they started in with Eric wanting to stay with them. Bonnie emphatically said no to Eric, about five times. When she looked to me for backup I just held my hands up and told her it was her choice as to when she thought he was old enough to be responsible. I was glad her eyes couldn't really shoot daggers. It was Mother to Eric's rescue. If Mother and Bonnie knew what I knew about those three boys, and what they would most likely be doing to entertain themselves for the evening, they would agree that the three of us had to be absolutely nuts! Before leaving the house, I took the three boys aside for a serious talk. After letting them know that I was well aware of their plans, we talked about trust. I trusted them to behave, not disturb the neighbors, or destroy the house. The promise I left with them was that if I heard about any problems, when I returned I would hang all three of them in the closet, by their heels, and lock the door. Eric wanted to know why and I thought Frank and Mike were going to hit him. I explained to Eric that by hanging them by the heels, all their blood would drain down towards the brain. When a sufficient amount drained down, most of his favorite play toys would rot and fall off. * * * * After calling the hospital and learning that Sean was asleep for the night, thanks to some little magic pills, I took the shuttle to the airport hotel. I had thought of going straight to the hospital, but I was tired and knew I needed rest. The desk clerk looked as worn out as I felt. A phone rang through the fog. It took me a couple of minutes to wake up enough to realize it was my cell phone. I wasn't awake enough to remember to check the caller id. "Hello," I answered, I think. "Dad?" I recognized the voice but the name was a blur. "Dad? Are you awake?" "Noooo," I answered honestly. "What are you doing up at this hour?" "Dad, it's after eight-thirty." I was finally awake enough to realize I was talking to Michael. "Oh, crap!" The most intelligent thing I could think of before my morning cup of coffee. "I'm glad you called, son. I need to get to the hospital." Then I remembered that he called me. "Why are you calling?" "I wanted ta find out if you'd seen Sean and how he was. You already told me you had'n." "All I can tell you right now, Mike, is that the nurse told me last night that he was resting and would sleep through the night thanks to some pills they gave him." "Dad, will you call me when you . . .," Mike sounded scared; I understood. "I promise, son, I will," I replied, trying to sound as understanding and supportive as I could. "I'm supposed to meet Sgt. Morgan at ten this morning. Soon as I know something, I'll call you; promise. Are you boys doing okay?" "Yes, sir. I pulled out some bacon and I'm gonna put it on medium like you said, unless it starts poppin', then I'll turn it down some. Grandma told us how Grandpa used ta get up on Sunday mornings and cook breakfast for you and Aunt Bonnie. She said that he'd cook the bacon in the pan, drain off most of the grease and then scramble eggs in the same pan. It kinda sounds gross but Eric and Frank wanna try it." I was able to smile without Mike seeing me. I knew that Mr. Macho-Eat-Healthy-All-The-Time really wanted to try it too; he just couldn't admit it. "Well, you guys enjoy. Remember, your grandmother will be coming over this afternoon." "We know, Dad. We promise we won't be naked when she comes. Grandma said she'd call us before she came over. But, guess what?" I should have stopped while I was ahead. "Eric was one horny dude last night; most of the night, actually." * * * * At ten o'clock I stepped off the hospital elevator. There was a small sitting area opposite the elevator occupied by a gentleman who appeared to be in his early fifties. Casually dressed, he had the salt and pepper hair typical of someone of his years; he also had a slight stomach pooch that I knew Michael would not approve of. Michael would approve of the broad shoulders and strong hands that suggested this was a man that had pumped a little iron in his day. He looked at me for a moment, showing a slight smile. "Mr. Geoghagan?" "Sgt. Morgan? Rick Geoghagan." We shook hands and exchanged the customary pleasantries of 'nice to meet you' ? 'wish it were under better circumstances'. "Sergeant, should we talk, or could I check on Sean first?" "The nurse is with him now; he's getting his morning clean-up and fresh bandages. He just went in and said it would be about fifteen minutes. Care for a cup of coffee?" Sgt. Morgan spoke in a very pleasant tone and turned to point to a small pot of fresh smelling coffee. Caffeine, starter fluid, was on my list of needs at the moment. "Mr. Geoghagan, we know that Sean was attacked and beaten; that's obvious. What's not obvious is who did it and why. We do have some ideas. You see, this is the fourth time this has happened to a teenage boy since this past September. The MO appears too close for coincidence, and the all of the boys attend the same school." "Obviously, you think it's someone from his school targeting the boys?" "We think that it's either someone from the school or someone is targeting boys at that particular school. The other three boys were also beaten up pretty bad and are scared to death; they won't talk to us. There's one other thing the other three boys have in common." When he paused I knew he was trying to read how I might react to what he was going to say. "The other three boys have admitted to us that they are gay." I'm not sure what my visible reaction was, but I suddenly felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. You hear stories about people who have different life styles being the target of ridicule and sometimes, physical violence. It's the kind of thing that happens everyday, everywhere, except to someone close to you and in your hometown. We had moved to Florida, but the move was recent enough for me to still consider this home. "Has Sean said anything?" "No. He won't talk to us. When I try to talk with him, it's fairly obvious that he's frightened. My guess is that whoever did this threatened to do serious harm to him or someone close to him if he says anything. He won't talk to his mother either. I'm hoping he will talk to you. His mother says that Sean views you as his substitute dad." The way Sgt. Morgan looked at me I could tell he was still trying to figure out how much I knew about Sean. "Sergeant, I can tell you this much. Sean is like a lot of boys his age; he's still trying to figure out who he is and what his values are. He's told me that he has experimented some with sex. You'll have to ask him about the gay part." Sergeant Morgan continued to look at me. The look wasn't as accusatorial as it was questioning. He was trying to figure out how much I might know that I wasn't revealing. I felt that it was up to Sean to let others know about his sexuality. Just then, the nurse left the room, walked towards us and let us know we could go in. "Mr. Geoghagan, let me caution you that Sean probably looks worse than he really is. The beating he took was to send a message, so they made sure to get him where it would be difficult to hide the marks. The doctors told us he has a couple of broken and cracked ribs, plus two fingers on his right hand are broken where it appears they stomped him. The rest is bruises and swelling except for possibly optical damage." The sergeant's caution wasn't enough to keep from stopping my breathing when I walked into the room. Maybe it could have been worse, but I was sure glad that it wasn't. When I walked in Sean looked tired. He lay in the bed looking towards the window. The only view outside the window was the backside of another wing to the hospital. It took a moment for him to realize someone else was in the room. When he looked at me, my heart almost broke. I'm not sure which one of us wanted to cry the most. Sean had a large patch over the area just above his left eye. The swelling and bruising was obvious. A white bandage that looked like an oversize band-aid was across the bridge of his nose. I assumed it covered a cut. His lip was cut in a couple of places, and swollen on the right side. The right side of his face also appeared to be swollen. There was more black and blue to his coloring than there was flesh tone. When I looked closer I saw a bandage over his right ear, but I couldn't tell what kind of damage the bandage was covering. Someone had been nothing short of evil and sadistic. Sean's lips moved, but no words came out. He didn't need to say anything; his eyes said it all for him. I stepped to the side of his bed, sat down gently, and let him melt into my arms. When he put his right arm around me, I notice the splints on his two middle fingers. He cried. He didn't bawl and make a big scene; he just cried and released the fear and tension. I shed a few tears of my own. A shadow moved across the wall letting me know someone had walked into the room. Momentarily, Phyllis and Sergeant Morgan were standing next to me. Sean didn't realize they were in the room. They both watched as the frightened boy squeezed me more than held on to me. Everyone knew that, before Sean would talk, he had to release some of the fear and hurt. He was a teenager, which only means he was a bigger boy, with the same need to feel loved and protected as any child. When I felt the tears slowing, I pushed him back by his shoulders so I could look at him. "Hey, kiddo; you look like hell. You know that?" The tears had been running and the nose still ran. He looked at me and tried to stifle a laugh, but failed. When he did laugh a little, he grabbed his sides and cringed; a look of solid pain. "Don't Mr. G," Sean whined. He caught his breath. "Don't make me laugh; it hurts too much." Sean turned and saw his mom and the sergeant; a look of distrust suddenly appeared. "Sergeant Morgan is the one who called to let me know you were in trouble and had been hurt. He's the one responsible for me being here." Sean's look softened. "What on earth happened to make you look so bad?" Sean gave me a slight smile. "I guess I kinda fu . . ," Sean glanced at his mom, ". . . uuhh, messed up, huh?" I glanced over at Phyllis and the sergeant. They got the message and left us to get some coffee. After they left the room, I closed the door. Sitting in a chair next to his bed, I just looked at him and waited. "Mr. Geee? Don't, pleeeaase?" Sean pleaded. I really felt for him. "Sean, listen to me." The tension I felt inside wanted to explode; I knew I needed to remain calm, and sound calm, if I was going to get anywhere with Sean. "You've already told me you fucked up. I need for you to tell me how. Do you realize you're not the first boy this has happened to in the past few months? Three other boys from your school have suffered this same problem. Now, I know you had to see who did this. Talk to me, Sean. It's the only way I can help you." "Mr. G, you know what'll happen ta me if I squeal on 'em? I won't be able ta go anywhere without somebody pointin' to the rat boy or one of their friends jumpin' me. My life'd be over. You don't know; you don't understand, Mr. G." I could hear the fear in his voice. "Sean, I understand, I really do. All kids, every generation, have this unwritten rule about not squealing on other kids. But, look at it this way. If you let them get away with this, they win. It's that simple. They break the law, they disrespect you and every other person around that might be a little different and get away with it. This happened to three other boys that didn't squeal. They were scared and kept quiet. The guys that hurt them went free and, assuming they are the same ones, those guys jumped you. Do you want to send these guys a message that it's alright to jump people and beat them up?" He had begun to cry again and I could see his hands shaking. "Sean, I'm not trying to punish you or hurt you in any way. I want you to understand that you can not run. Run now and it's easier to run the next time something bad happens. The worst part, son, is eventually you'll start taking a dim view of yourself; your self- esteem drops and the quality of life goes with it." He lay in his bed with the back half up. He didn't say any more and I didn't push; Sean needed time to think. "I didn't even say hello to your mother when she came in. Rest for a few minutes and I'll be back, okay?" He looked up and tried to give me a smile. I wasn't sure which feelings were the strongest, my anger towards whoever did this, or my concern for Sean. I knew, deep down, it was for the boy. As I approached Phyllis and the sergeant, they gave me an expectant look. I held my hands out, palms forward. "Right now he's one very frightened young man. Kids have this unwritten code about not telling on one another. He's also afraid of what might happen if the people who did this find out he talked." I poured myself another cup of coffee and continued. "My guess is that he knows who did this and can identify them. I'm also guessing, Sergeant, that you were correct about it being someone from his school. We talked a little and I left him there thinking." "Did you mention the other three boys to him?" I nodded. "How did he react?" "Actually, I don't think he did react. I'm not sure if it just didn't sink in with him or he knew." I returned to Sean's room. When I walked in he looked at me like he wasn't sure he wanted me there. I was becoming the heavy and needed to turn it around. "Sean, I'm not going to badger you about who did this. I've said all I can say; it's up to you. However, I would appreciate it if you told me how you got into this mess. Can you do that?" Sean leaned into me, resting his head on my shoulder. As I had done so many times with my boys, and with Sean on occasion, I wrapped an arm around him and guided him to lay down with his head in my lap. It was a little awkward with me sitting on the edge of the bed and it hurt a little from the sound of the muffled moans and grunts, but he made it; he wanted it. I didn't say anything; I ran my fingers through his hair and waited. It only took a couple of minutes for him to begin. "After ya'll left, I was all alone. I know you said I could come visit, but what was I supposed to do in between? I was tryin' ta make some more friends at school and there was this one guy who seemed nice. I mean, I wasn't lookin' for some sex partner or nothin', just a friend; know what I mean?" I just gave him a couple of light pats to his back. "We got ta where we'd sit together in the cafeteria and we had two classes together. We joked around some and bitched about the teachers and all the homework, normal stuff." I could feel him tense up and ran my fingers through his hair a little stronger. "Anyway, after a couple weeks he started sayin' stuff, you know, guy stuff like talkin' 'bout chic's tits and stuff. Sometimes we'd joke around 'bout some of the new style jeans, you know the ones that barely cover the tackle and stuff? Anyway, a few days ago he said he and some buddies was gonna get together for a guy's day. They were just gonna sit around and drink a couple beers each and watch some movies. He said they was porn movies and asked me if I wanted to go with 'em. I said okay. "The party was yesterday, Mr. G. When we got to his friend's place we went to this room he said his dad used for an office. It was in a little building out back and was private so nobody'd bother us. When we got there, it was just me and three of them. We walked in and they locked the door. One of the guys pulled his dick out and said he had a present for the fag." Sean cried and I just held him. "Mr. G, you wouldn't believe the shit they done to me. They kept sayin' how they saw how I looked at 'em and they knew I had the hots for 'em. It wasn't true, Mr. G, I swear. They just laughed at me and knocked me down on this dirty old mattress on the floor. Two of 'em held me while the third one stripped me." Sean tried to control his crying and gasping, "They fucked me, Mr. G. They fucked me; they dry fucked me. One of 'em, instead of cummin' in me, he pissed inside me. Gaahhd, I felt like garbage!" I saw the shadows on the wall. Phyllis and Sergeant Morgan had heard most of it. They backed out of the room so as not to embarrass Sean. I continued to sit there and hold him. Sean needed to cry and I let him. After a few minutes, I pressed the call button for the nurse. When she came in and saw the problem she looked at me and nodded. Sean was out less than five minutes after the shot. He would sleep for a couple of hours. "Now I understand why he's reluctant to talk, Sergeant. He doesn't want the kids at school to know that he was raped. Did you know about that part?" "I know the doctor in emergency examined him and said he had been abused. Sean wouldn't tell anyone how he was abused. Now we know. The doctor also said it was rough enough to tear some external tissue, but internally, he's just bruised; nothing permanent." "Sergeant, I'd say the mental and emotional scars that boy will have to live with for the rest of his life are pretty permanent." "You misunderstand me, Mr. Geoghagan, I meant . . ." "Sergeant, I understand what you meant. I didn't mean for it to sound like I was attacking you. It just really pissed me off." Phyllis stood to the side, listening. She had her back to us. When she turned around, I could tell she had been crying. "Rick, the nurse said Sean would sleep for a couple of hours. Can we go downstairs to the coffee shop and talk? Could I buy your lunch? You too, Sergeant." The three of us remained quiet as we walked to the cafeteria. Somehow, talking about this as we walked through the halls just didn't seem right. My intention was to get a cup of coffee and talk a few minutes. When we entered the cafeteria the aroma of freshly cooked food attacked my senses and I realized I was hungry. After picking out what we wanted we located a table situated off to one side where we could have a little privacy. "Sergeant," I began, "what are your next steps. Is there any chance of bringing these boys in without Sean identifying them?" "Bring them in? Yes. Get a conviction; probably not. We're hoping to get more than just Sean's identification and testimony. Phyllis, my apologies if this seems a little crude, but we're hoping the doctors can get a semen sample out of Sean so we can do a couple of tests and confirm who raped him." I heard Phyllis gasp and then take a deep breath. "Were you able to recover samples from the other boys?" "Yes, but they wouldn't identify who attacked them. We didn't know who to go after. If Sean will identify the boys we can get a court order to run the tests. We could also bring in the samples retrieved from the other boys. That should be enough for us to get a conviction." "Assuming you get a conviction, what happens to those boys? If all they get is a slap on the back of their hands and probation, Sean will be in the same position he's trying to avoid now." "I can't guarantee anything, ma'am. The judge and the district attorney will have to work on that part. It just seems to me that, given how vicious the attack was, the obvious intent to do serious bodily harm, plus statutory sodomy, I can not imagine the attackers getting off without spending some time as guests of the state." The three of us sat at the table nibbling at our food, deep in our own thoughts. Phyllis broke the silence. "Rick, you've been able to get more information from Sean in a few minutes, than either of us has gotten since all this happened. You know how Sean feels about you and your boys." Phyllis paused to keep control of her emotions. "I think this is the type of thing that he will only talk about with another man. He's of the age that this subject matter is off limits, even to his mother." She gave me a pleading look with her eyes. "Phyllis, you know how much we think of Sean. A lot of people tease him about being my third son. Don't worry, the boys and I will be here for him." I tried to smile a little to lighten the moment. "In fact, Mike is probably mad with me now for not having Sean call him." Phyllis understood; she knew how close the boys were. I had the feeling that she suspected the boys might be a little closer than just friends sometimes. She turned her attention to the sergeant. "Sergeant Morgan," Phyllis held her cup of coffee in one hand and ran the first finger of her other hand around the rim; she spoke slowly and calmly. "I don't know if it's appropriate for you to reveal this, but could you tell me who the other boys were and whether they still live locally." The sergeant studied her for a moment before answering. "I can tell you as much as was printed in the papers. I'm afraid I can't reveal any personal information that may be in our files." Phyllis looked at the Sergeant and nodded. "The boys, at least two that I know of, are still local and attending another school. Their names are Josh and Keith. I can't tell you any more without parental consent." "Sergeant, you said you needed more evidence. If Sean will identify the boys and one of these other boys will speak up, is that sufficient?" "Phyllis, there may be a problem." I didn't think Phyllis really understood the unwritten rules in a teenage boy's world. "Those boys are probably walking around in fear today. If they wouldn't speak up when they were hurt, at a time when they should have wanted revenge, I doubt they'll talk now. It wouldn't surprise me to learn they're afraid to go out alone or attend any functions where they think these other boys might be. That's one of the things I was trying to impress on Sean. He shouldn't have to live the rest of his years being afraid. More importantly, he shouldn't refuse to identify the boys now and regret it later. When I say regret, I'm not only talking about another boy being hurt, but Sean's self esteem. To me, that's more important. Self esteem is critical for a boy his age." "Mr. Geoghagan, let me leave my card with you. If Sean decides he wants to talk, call and I'll be here." "Sergeant, if he does agree to talk, I can tell you he's going to be afraid. Any kid could walk in here and threaten him and we wouldn't know the difference." "I understand. I can do this. If he agrees to talk, I can have a volunteer off-duty officer sitting right outside his door so long as he's here. Do you think that would help? There's a lot of cops in this city that get upset when they see a kid hurt like this." * * * * Phyllis and I sat in Sean's room, waiting for him to wake up. We spoke quietly to one another, mostly exchanging stories of some of the things the boys had done. Some were funny, some were dumb, and some just plain stupid; it's all part of being a kid. We laughed hardest thinking of the times the boys would pull stunts that had us so mad we wanted to trade them in. Somehow, through it all, we knew there was no way we would really consider trading them off; we just didn't want them to know that. Besides, we both agreed, there was probably no one else that would be willing to put up with them. Sean's sleep was fitful and restless. He didn't stay in one position long. As he shifted on the bed he would moan and whimper. His whimpers were not the kind that come from pleasure, they were just the opposite. We couldn't tell though if he was in pain or if he was dreaming, possibly reliving that afternoon. We decided he was most likely dreaming about the attack as we watched his face scrunch up and he began to sweat. Phyllis wet a washcloth that was in the bathroom and wiped her son's brow. It took another parent to understand how much she was also hurting. There's no worse feeling than watching your child suffer and not be able to relieve the pain. "Rick," Phyllis spoke tentatively, "there's something I wanted to talk to you about. I'm not too sure how to say it or really where to begin. Maybe it's just best if I say it straight out." I turned to look directly at her. "I'm Sean's mother and, although I may not show it as much as I should, Sean is everything to me. I love that boy more than words could ever say. Right now, my love for him is not enough. There are things that will be happening to him that no boy is going to discuss with his mother. Sean is at an age where he needs a man to talk to, a man to show and teach him how to be a man." We sat in silence for a minute or two. Before we could finish our conversation, Sean demanded attention. "Mo-o-om?" He sounded weak and in pain. "That you?" "I'm right here, Sean," Phyllis answered as she stepped up beside his bed. "It hurts, Mom," Sean whined, the little boy in him coming out. "I know, baby. Lay still and I'll talk to the nurse about getting you some pain pills." Phyllis left the room and Sean quickly looked over at me. "Mr. G. I got a problem and I gotta take care of it before Mom gets back. I really need ta take a dump and I can't get outta bed with this plastic tube shoved up my dick. This thing's awful!" I couldn't help but smile. "If you think that tube is awful, how do you think you would have felt if you wet the bed?" I told him as I looked in the cabinets for a bed pan. Found it. "No, Mr. G, not that. I mean, couldn't you just take that tube out and I can go to the bathroom? You could put it back when I got back in bed." You had to admire the simplicity of his thinking. "Sean, it doesn't work like that. A nurse will have to remove the tube. Besides, I don't think they want you up and moving about right now. Also, if I tried to pick you up and carry you, you would think the pain you're feeling now was a tickle compared to what pressure on those ribs would feel like. Now, roll on your side and I'll put this in place. You want me to get your mom to help you?" "No! No Way! That's not even funny, Mr. G. It's okay for you to see me naked, you're a guy." "Well, I appreciate you letting me know that." I couldn't help but think some of this was funny and had to laugh a little. The kid part of Sean was coming through in bright neon colors. The funny part ended when he tried to push a little and the pain set in. "Ohhh, fuck! Mr. G! God, it hurts." "Sean, don't force anything. Relax and let nature take its course. You don't have to be finished in a hurry. If someone comes in we'll just let them know there's a personal matter being taken care of." He didn't say anything, but he sure blushed. In walked the nurse; Sean looked ready to panic. "Nurse, he's handling a rather personal matter at the moment." I laughed when the nurse just lifted the sheet and saw Sean in all his glory. I really felt bad for the kid, but it was funny. "Excuse me," I said to the nurse to distract her, "he was wondering if it would be possible to have the catheter removed?" "I can take it out, but he has to promise not to get out of that bed. He'll have to use the urinal cup." "But, what'll I do if I have ta go to the bathroom?" Sean pleaded. "Same thing you're doing right now." The nurse answered simply. "Sean, I'm sure the hospital has male orderlies that can help if you need it." "Oh, I see," the nurse commented, "the easily embarrassed type, huh. Young man, I've seen more naked boys and young men in this hospital than you can count. You won't be showing me anything I haven't seen before." "You haven't seen me and I don't want to put on a show." "Wanna bet? Who do you think put that tube in there?" The nurse grinned from ear to ear, having a good time teasing poor Sean who about ready to die from humiliation. Without saying another word, the nurse lifted the side of the sheet, exposing Sean to the whole world. She moved so quickly, he didn't have time to object. She picked up his penis and slowly pulled the tube out. Sean hissed, drawing the air through clenched teeth. To top it all off, Phyllis walked into the room in the middle of the procedure. "MOM! PLEASE!" I think Sean turned a little white when the blood stopped circulating from embarrassment. Phyllis looked down and rushed back out, closing the door behind her. The door actually remained cracked and I could see her standing in the hall, laughing. The nurse left and Sean let me know he had finished his business. He let me know he wanted off that pan. When I removed the pan and cleaned him up, I covered him and let him know I was going to get his mother. "Before you go, Mr. G, can you hand me the pee cup, please?" "Sean, you shouldn't need to urinate at this point. That tube was pushed into your bladder to keep it drained." "I can't help it, I feel like I'm 'bout ta bust. There was no way I was gonna pee in that pan; then I'd have my butt hangin' in my own pee. That's gross! 'Specially if you've already been usin' the pan. All that. . . ." "That's okay, Sean, I don't need the details. I get the general idea. I'll leave you with the urinal cup and I'll walk your mother down the hall so you can have some privacy. Oh, and here, take my cell phone and call the boys when you're finished. They're worried, too." When I walked out to the hall, Phyllis turned to look at me. We exchanged one of those smiles that parents have occasionally when they realize their kids have done something funny but don't want to laugh in front of them. "You know, Rick, I can remember when he was little. He was like most little kids, I guess. You couldn't slow him down long enough to get clothes on him. He always wanted to 'run free' as he called it. Then one day, when he was about ten, he became modest and I wasn't allowed to see him naked again." She looked over at me and smiled. "He's told me you let them go skinny dipping in the pool and hot-tub. I just wanted you to know that I don't object. I'm glad he can be himself and be comfortable around you and yours sons. The only thing I regret is that I can't be a fly on the wall sometimes and see some of the things they get into." Right then, I really didn't want her to ask me what the boys did. "OOHHH GAAHHDD! . . .OOHHH!! . . .AAWWWWWWW!! . . .MR GEEEEEEE! . . OHH GAAHHD!!" It took a moment to realize it was Sean crying out. I almost started to run back to the room but, instead, leaned against the wall and began laughing. Phyllis gave me a quizzical look. "I didn't caution him that the first time you urinate after the catheter is removed it hurts, and burns, like you would never believe. You are truly pouring salt over an open wound." I laughed a couple of more times before I continued. "Poor Sean. At this rate his recuperation could be more painful than his injuries." End Ch Twenty-Six To Be Continued Comments Welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com