Date: Sat, 10 Jan 2009 08:54:49 -0800 (PST) From: adm2780 Subject: Second Time Around Chapter Thirty-Three 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". He also recently posted "A Simple Christmas". Try it, you'll like it. Chapter Thirty-Three: Second Time Around It was dark when Sean and I stepped off the plane. A light breeze told us old man winter was still lingering in upper New York. I looked around and saw dirty snow mounded along the side of the runway and roads. The pavement was wet but I couldn't tell if it was the result of salt having been spread to melt the ice or if it had rained. It didn't matter; it was still chilly and damp, the kind of chill that could penetrate to the bone. I thought about Florida, and David. I looked at my watch and knew that he would be arriving at the house soon. He was staying with the boys while I was away. I had to admit to being curious because he said the boys had called him and wanted to do something. He couldn't elaborate, but I let him know that I trusted him to use his best judgment and knew the boys were fine. Admittedly, though, I was a little curious about what the boys had in mind; especially knowing my boys. Seven weeks had passed since the three teens had attacked Sean. After the talk he and I had regarding the boys' punishment, I called Sergeant Morgan. The sergeant passed the information on to the assistant DA handling the case. The assistant DA was Angela Hopkins. When we talked on the phone I was surprised when she tried to talk Sean out of his suggestion. This lady wanted to punish those boys. My impression was that she wanted to do more than punish them, she wanted to make an example of them; persecute would have been more correct. She didn't seem to care that the punishment she had in mind could ruin those boys' lives. My personal thought, which I didn't share with anyone, was 'what a bitch'. When people asked me if my boys were always as good as when most people saw them in public, I always responded that I didn't believe there was any such thing as the perfect boy. Show me a boy that never got into trouble and I'll show you a boy that is either an excellent liar and sneak or, leads a very dull life. These boys made a mistake, a bad one. They could have ruined their victim's life. They were fortunate that the victim, Sean, didn't want ruining their lives on his conscience. Why did this lady not care? Sean was correct; persecuting these boys was not going to help them in the long haul. While we waited for our luggage to be unloaded, I visited the rental car counter. The appointment we had tomorrow was deliberately scheduled so Sean could spend some time with his mother. The initial thought was to stay with Phyllis. When we found out that she was having some kind of charitable gathering at her house, I made us reservations at a hotel. Sean was already nervous, very nervous; he didn't need to feel that a bunch of strangers were whispering about him behind his back. We would see Phyllis at the hearing and the two of them could spend time together afterwards. "Mr. G, I got the bags," Sean announced as he walked up behind me. "Okay, they'll bring the car up in a minute. You know, even though it's dark here, it's still early, like supper early. You hungry?" "Yes, sir, kinda." I just continued to look at him until he figured out the rest of my question. "Actually, I'm starved. I didn't eat anything for lunch; too nervous." "What would you like, Sean? Barbeque, Italian, hamburgers, steak . . ." "Uhh, steak sounds good, if that's okay. Where we gonna get it?" "That depends. We can go to the steakhouse or, we can go to the hotel and eat in their restaurant or let them send something up with room service and be comfortable." I wanted to find out if Sean could figure out what I was telling him. "If we do the room service thing, does that mean that maybe you'll fudge a little with something you couldn't do if we went to the restaurant? Fudge, like in, maybe, share a certain beverage or, maybe, let me have one of my own?" "Share," was the only answer I gave him. He smiled. * * * * It was always interesting to me to watch the boys' reactions when I took them somewhere and we stayed at a hotel. They always went in and checked out the beds, sometimes sitting or lying on the bed and bouncing a little. Then, the bathroom had to be inspected with particular attention to the size of the shower and whether there was a Jacuzzi. Those items settled, a quick inventory was made of the snack bar and refrigerator. Sean was no different when it was just the two of us. I had reserved a large room with two queen beds for space and comfort. He followed the usual routine; the care-free kid was showing. While Sean was inspecting the room, I inspected the menu. Sean wasn't the only one that was starved. Dinner was steak (New York strip, naturally) with baked potato and salad. I ordered a couple of Samuel Adams with decaf coffee for a chaser. While I ordered dinner, Sean decided to make himself comfortable, too comfortable. "Sean, room service will be here shortly. Don't you think you should wear something? The wrong guy comes in here, he might think you were a working boy or, possibly, that I was molesting you." "Oops, forgot about somebody comin', Mr. G. I figured since we weren't goin' anywhere that it was okay to get comfortable like we do back home." Sean slipped into his pants. He didn't bother with the underwear or shirt, but at least he had his pants on. Room service set the food on the table and I let the young man out, locking the door. When I turned around, Sean's pants were missing. I just decided to let it go. After all, that was the normal state of dress, or undress, back home. The look on his face when he spotted two bottles of beer was almost priceless. He jumped to the normal conclusion and I decided to let him think about it. Room service did send up two chilled stems. I opened one bottle and split it between us. There are certain grins a kid can get that you just remember forever; with Sean, that was one of them. After dinner, I decided it was time to get a nice hot shower. During dinner, I poured myself another glass of beer and left the other half in the bottle, sitting right in front of Sean. I was curious to see if he would ask me for it; he didn't. He knew the normal rule was half a beer. It was rare for me to let any of the boys have more than a half. As I undressed and stepped into the bathroom, I told Sean it would be a shame to see the other half bottle go to waste. He grinned and I didn't have to say any more. When I stepped out of the shower I saw that Sean had put the lid to the commode down and was sitting there. He appeared to be absent-mindedly picking at his nails, his feet were up on the balls of his feet with his legs bouncing. All of this was a sign that he had something on his mind but hadn't decided he wanted to talk. I didn't say anything; he needed to make the choice for himself. One of my preferred methods to unwind before going to sleep is to read. Kathy never understood how I could read and listen to the news at the same time while lying in bed. I tired explaining it once, and a few more times, but she never understood that I could key into important topics and ignore the mundane. This is what I was doing when Sean stepped out of the bathroom. It was then that I realized he had taken a long shower. Since Sean Jr. was not in full rest position, I assumed that there was a reason for the long shower. He stood next to the bed and just looked at me. "Mr. G?" When I hit the end of the paragraph, I looked up at a boy who appeared nervous and had a pleading expression. "Only if you go back and finish drying off," I answered. Sean returned still drying off. He dropped the towel on the floor and slipped under the covers. He groaned his approval of the pillow top mattress and heavy duvet. I laughed to myself; sometimes the simplest things can mean a lot. I tried to continue reading but found it difficult with him bouncing around like a fish out of water. Finally, giving up, I turned the lights out and listened to the rest of the news. Sean settled down some and it didn't escape my notice that he had scooted close to me, his leg touching mine. I turned the television off. "You want to tell me what's wrong?" I asked as gently as I could. "Nothin's wrong," he answered in a tone that I don't think would even convince him. "Okay. Goodnight." I found that drawing a line usually helped if they really wanted to talk. The darkness was also a big help. I waited while Sean bounced around a little more. He maneuvered himself closer. He was close enough that it wouldn't take too much more and I would be ready to fall off the edge of the bed. I turned onto my side, facing him, and propped myself up on my elbow. "Are you nervous about the hearing tomorrow?" "Some." The tension in his voice was obvious. I told him to stay where he was. Retrieving a bottle of body powder, I lay back down. He was on his stomach and wasn't the least bit shy about moving closer to me. Shifting the duvet so his back was exposed, I sprinkled a little powder on him and began a gentle rubbing. Instincts told me that Sean was uptight about more than just the hearing. We had discussed the hearing and what to expect, so there shouldn't be any big surprises. I wasn't sure what it was that had him uptight, so I tried to be patient and get him to relax. As I rubbed his back I could feel him relax. Just like Mike and Frank, he cooed. I wondered if any of them realized they did that. Experience with Frank and Mike had taught me how to distract their thoughts from whatever it was that bothered them. My hand moved lightly and gently over his back. He shivered a little and wiggled his body when I hit a ticklish area. I felt him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. When my hand reached the small of his back, I felt his legs spread. I knew the sign and what he wanted. Using the first finger only, I lightly guided the tip of my finger over each cheek and then through his crack. He took another deep breath and moaned. I smiled to myself knowing he was just a typical teenage boy. The pleasure from his body could totally override the worries in his mind. "Mr. G, when this is all over, does that mean I have ta come back here?" "Sean, don't you want to come back home?" He became very quiet and still. I rubbed his back but he didn't respond as before. When I ran my fingers through his hair and over his cheeks, I felt his tears. "Sean, since when have you not been able to talk to me?" "I know," he whimpered. "It's just that . . . well, I been more at home, I felt more at home, since I've been with you than I have up here in a long time. Mr. G, don't get me wrong, okay? I love my mom, but she just doesn't understand. She thinks I'm big enough to take care of myself and leaves me money and stuff, but . . .well, you know?" "Yes, I know. Sean, your mother and I talked before you came to stay with us in Florida. I thought she had already talked with you. We decided that if you moved in with us, you would stay at least through the end of the school year and on into July. At that time, we would reevaluate the situation and, if it appeared to be in your best interest, you would be given the choice of staying or coming back here." While I explained the agreement I had with his mother, Sean turned over to face me. He had his right arm around my chest and I could feel his fingers moving up and down the upper part of my back. The light coming through the drapes reflected off the tears in his eyes. He reached up and gave me a hug. "Thanks. I like bein' part of your family," he whispered in my ear and then gave me a light kiss on the side of my neck before he lay back down. "Mr. G, Mikey said there was somethin' special you did for him and Frank when they were real uptight and maybe you might do it for me, too. Mikey told me that sometimes he'd act like he was real uptight about somethin' just so you'd do it for 'im." There was a sound of hopeful expectancy in his voice, coupled with a hint of mischief. I sprinkled a little powder on his chest and stomach and began to rub him gently. He cooed and whimpered like a puppy. While I rubbed him, he kicked the covers down and spread himself out. I reached over and ran a finger down his left arm. The brat reached up and sucked my nipple into his mouth and bit it gently. I leaned over and suckled on his nipple as he drew a sharp breath through clenched teeth and whimpered; definitely a wet puppy. "Mr. G? I cleaned myself and lubed myself like David showed us." I didn't reply other than to reach down and cup his scrotum. He wiggled as I rolled his active teenage nuggets in the palm of my hand. As I rolled his nuggets, my middle finger slipped down to massage his perineum while I moved up and nibbled his ear. He was my puppy that night, surrendering himself completely to me. "Mr. G, Mikey and Frank say you can stroke 'em just right so's they feel great and go right to sleep. I brought a towel in so I won't mess up the bed." At the touch of my hand, he rolled onto his left side, his back to me. He reached over and picked up the towel, spreading it in front of himself. Pulling his top leg up, he wiggled around until he settled his butt into my groin. He reached between his legs and lined himself up to Big Daddy. Pulling my left arm out for a pillow, he wrapped my right arm over his chest and pushed his butt into me. Carefully, I penetrated him. When I had fully penetrated him, he lay his top leg back over my leg and than stretched his body to its fullest. I held him tight with my left hand and tweaked his nipples with my right hand. "Do me," he pleaded. "Mark me." I bit into his shoulder and then tongue bathed his neck. He whimpered and whined as I slowly long-stroked him. Arching my back, I stretched his body, pulling him as taut as he could go. He stretched with me, tightening every muscle in his body. His ring clamped tight around my shaft. With each stroke his magic spot was caressed and he whimpered and whined. "Hold me . . . . mooooore . . ohhhhhh . . uuunnnggghhh. . do it again," he whined. And I did, gently and with love. * * * * Phyllis met us at our hotel for breakfast. She smiled and tried to look upbeat, but her eyes said she had not had very much sleep. My hope was that she and Sean would spend some time together after the hearing. Sean was to stay in his own room Friday night and most of Saturday with his mother. We had a flight out late Saturday afternoon. During breakfast I expected Phyllis to ask Sean about school and what he was doing. When she did ask him, her response sounded like a programmed response totally lacking in true parental interest. I'm not sure who was more disappointed, me or Sean. Phyllis loved her son, I didn't question that, but as a mother she should know that her approval meant a lot to the boy. She seemed to be more interested in talking about the dinner party and how much money they raised for the charity. I wondered if she had always been like this and I just never saw it. If so, it would go a long way towards explaining why Sean always wanted to be at our house, even when we lived up here. After breakfast we headed to the courthouse. We were supposed to meet the DA handling the case and Sergeant Morgan. We ran into the sergeant as we entered the courthouse and all of us walked into the DA's office together. When I saw Angela Hopkins I decided my original assessment of her was correct, she even looked like a bitch. This lady moved around like she thought a whole lot of herself or she had something to prove to everyone. Ms. Hopkins made it clear to us that she did not necessarily approve of the suggestion to let the boys perform community service, and would neither support nor oppose the recommendation. One of the boys was not willing to accept the deal; a point which seemed to please Ms. Hopkins. With that news, we headed to court. Upon our arrival, we were redirected by the bailiff to Judge Nachman's chambers. His judicial assistant showed us into a conference room where a small group of people were already seated. I recognized two of the boys from school and assumed the rest of the people were family or legal representatives. "All rise," the bailiff announced. "Be seated," the judge announced after taking his seat. The judge was dressed in a suit and did not wear his robe of office. I assumed this was to be a more informal type of hearing. The judge picked up the file and looked through a few pages of whatever was in the file. The attorneys sat quietly, waiting for the judge to recognize them. "Ms. Hopkins, is Sean here? Hopefully with a parent of guardian?" "Yes, your honor." The lady that minutes earlier seemed to be a predator, became very conservative and respectful. The judge looked at the people on the other side of the table. "I'll assume these three young men are Kyle Jenkins, Ben Thomas and Adam Morgan." The boys seemed to shrink back. "I recognize the attorneys and assume each of you is representing one of the accused?" "Yes, your honor." "Okay, before we begin, I would like to note to everyone present that I've chosen to conduct this hearing in this room for two reasons. One is privacy, particularly since we have four juveniles involved. The second is to avoid putting any unnecessary pressure on any of the parties, particularly those same juveniles. Now, I have read all the reports and recommendations in this case and assume counsel has done the same." The judge paused and looked around at the attorneys, who just nodded. "If no one has any objections, I'm going to dispense with our normal procedures of calling witnesses to testify and handle this myself. Since all of the boys have admitted their participation, we need only to confirm the facts and formally enter into the records the punishments. If there are no objections, I'm going to ask Ms. Horton to move down one chair, and I'll ask Sean to sit where she is now." Sean looked at me and I told him it was okay. This was one of the possibilities we had discussed with him before leaving Florida. Sean took the chair indicated by the judge, obviously very nervous. "Now, Sean, there's no reason for you to be nervous. Believe me, I understand. I only have a couple of questions for you and your part should be over." "Yes, sir." "Sean, you have accused these three boys of attacking you, physically. You have also stated that during the attack they called you a fag, and other names. As a result of the attack, you were hospitalized with both broken and bruised ribs, bruises around the kidney area, etcetera. I believe your hospital stay was six days. Is all that correct?" "Yes, sir." "Sean, what else did the boys say to you?" "They said they was gonna teach me a lesson. They said I was a fag and they didn't want my kind around." The judge looked over at the three boys. Two of the boys looked down. They looked ashamed of what they had done. It was difficult to tell if it was real or a show. The third boy seemed to sneer at Sean. "Sean, I understand that most of this plea agreement was your idea. It says here that you state you don't think anything can be accomplished by sending these boys to a juvenile detention center. Do you also realize that if it is established that they intended serious bodily harm, that that was their intent from the beginning, that it was preplanned with malice, they could be charged as adults and sent to prison?" "Sir," Sean paused to look over to me; I nodded. "Sir, what good would that do? They'd end up with their lives messed up for good and still be the ass ho . . .uh, I'm sorry, the same idiots as before." The judge tried to hide his laughter. "I was kinda hopin' that if you did what we suggested, then maybe they'd learn that not all people are the same, but that doesn't mean they're not good." "Sean, did you ever try to get one of these boys to do something with you? Did you ever tell one of them that you were gay?" "No, sir. They're the ones that said I was gay." "He is!" One of the boys blurted out. "You should see him checkin' the guys out in the shower." I thought the judge was going to jump all over the boy, but he didn't. "Young man, I'm just a little curious to know how you know Sean is checking out the other boys in the showers. Let me ask you something, and this is strictly off the record. I can remember when I was in high school, even junior high, and the boys would gather in the dressing room and showers and play little games. Now, if you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, it was usually called grab-ass, and grab other things too. Now, can any one of you three look me straight in the eye and deny having participated in such activities and laughed about it?" The three boys looked down, trying to hide their grins and embarrassment. "Do you think that if someone came in and found a bunch of boys grabbing at other boys, and you know exactly what I'm talking about grabbing, together with a few crude comments I can remember, they might just think someone was engaging in 'gay' activities?" The judge sat at his desk at the head of the conference table, staring at the three boys. "Interesting; not one of you seems ready to deny anything." All three boys continued to look down. They were no longer grinning, but their faces betrayed a deep blush. We all knew the blushing was from being caught. Kyle looked up like he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. "Has everyone looked at the proposed agreement?" The attorneys acknowledged on behalf of their clients. "Do all of you consent to its terms?" "Your honor, sir." Adam spoke up. "May I say something, sir?" "Go ahead, son; we're listening." "Well . . . .uuhh, I just wanted ta say to Sean . . .well, I just wanted ta say that I'm sorry. What we did was wrong and I can't blame ya for hatin' us and all, and . . .well, I guess there's not much I can say 'cept how sorry I am. Oh, and I wanted to tell you thanks for thinkin' 'bout somethin' besides juvie. My dad says that could've really screwed us up for a long time with college and all." "Yeah, and that goes for me, too." Ben stood and spoke directly to Sean. "My dad told me what a jerk I was and it was pretty stupid. Actually, he kind of delivered the message a different way, too." Ben was rubbing his butt. "He had'n done that to me in a long time, but I guess I deserved it." All of the adults had to cover their mouths to hide their reaction to Ben's admission of what his father had done. "Sean? I know it'd be really hard for us ta be friends after what happened, but do ya think maybe if we pass one another in the halls or somewhere, maybe we could just wave and say 'hi'?" I wasn't too sure how Sean was going to react. He looked at the boys and, then, he turned and looked at me. I didn't do or say anything to influence him; he needed to decide this on his own. I don't think anyone could have been more proud of any boy as I was when Sean stood and offered his hand to Ben and Adam. "I've sat on this bench for a long time and I've seen all kinds of people come through my court; people of all ages. It doesn't happen too often, but when it does, I have a memory to last a lifetime. I think we've just seen three boys take big steps towards becoming fine young men." Kyle mumbled something that none of us could understand. His father turned to say something to him while the judge just looked at the boy. "Ben Thomas and Adam Morgan, in accordance with the agreement signed by you and your parents, this court withholds adjudication of the charges on the condition that you work twelve hours of voluntary service each and every week for the next three months at the alternative choice youth center. Your supervisor at the center will provide this court with bi-weekly reports of your activities as well as recommendations. Further, you or your family, will each pay one-third of the medical costs incurred due to your actions. Sean has requested that those monies be donated to the center. At the end of the three months, this court will again review your case and, assuming you have satisfactorily completed your hours and paid the monies owed, the files will be closed. Are there any questions?" "No, your honor," one of the attorneys spoke up. "We would like to thank the court for its considerations and thank Sean for his generosity." "Now, as for the defendant, Kyle Jenkins. Kyle, you have declined to participate in the settlement . . ." "I ain't volunteerin' to help no fags!" "Young man, if you interrupt me one more time, I will have the bailiff secure you to that chair, and I will personally insert the gag in your big mouth. Do you understand?" The judge glared at Kyle, who kept his mouth shut for once and looked down. "Kyle Jenkins, you have chosen not to participate in the proposed settlement. In addition, you have shown nothing but disrespect for your peers, the law, and this court. You are of the maximum age to be sentenced to juvenile detention and the minimum age to be sentenced to the jail and placed with the general population. In light of your age, and the fact that this is your first offense, you are sentenced to ninety days in the county juvenile detention center, effective immediately." It was only then that I realized that two deputies had entered the room. They now stood directly behind Kyle who appeared to be in shock. His mouth was moving, but no intelligible sounds were coming out. "You can't do that! No way!" "Bailiff, quiet Mr. Jenkins, please." The bailiff just looked at Kyle and he shut up. "Now, Mr. Jenkins. At this point I'm really tempted to withhold my next offer and, if I hear any more from you, I will. I will give you until noon on Friday of next week to reconsider your position. If you so choose, I will commute your sentence to be the same as Ben's and Adam's. However, you must be prepared to come before me and apologize for your actions today and have in your hands a letter of apology addressed to Sean. You may want to give the offer some serious consideration. "Now, if there are no further questions, this court is dismissed." "Excuse me, your honor?" Jenkins' attorney spoke up. "When should we have Kyle report?" "I believe I said effective immediately. That means those two deputies will escort him down to the juvenile detention center for processing right now. His parents may follow and they will be given a schedule and the rules for visitation. There will also be someone there to answer any question they may have." The judge then looked to Kyle's mother, who had been crying since Kyle's sentence was pronounced. "Mrs. Jenkins, I understand your sorrow, I really do. Please understand that Kyle must learn that there are no special rules for him. If he wants respect, he needs to learn to respect others. I sincerely hope that Kyle figures out how to make the right choices before it's too late." As we were leaving the courthouse, Ms. Hopkins and Sergeant Morgan escorted us to a private room. There, they told us that the court had been forewarned that one of the boys, Kyle, was not cooperating and appeared to be intent on really messing up his life. Kyle would be sent to juvie, but when he arrived there was an appointed group that would take him through a "scared straight" type of initiation. He would not be hurt unless he tried to fight someone. If he did, they would make sure he learned that he isn't quite as tough as he thinks. Hopefully, Kyle would be back before the judge in less than a week. * * * * As we left the courthouse, my thoughts turned to David and the boys. David had come in late Thursday night to stay with the boys. He was to have dinner with Mother and the family Friday night and possibly lunch with Mother on Saturday. Sean was going with Phyllis and I wouldn't see them until the next day. That left me with time on my hands. When we stepped outside I was a little surprised to see Ben and Adam standing off to the side. Their families were still there; the adults stood apart, talking. Ben and Adam approached us. "Ummm, Sean? Mr. Geoghagan?" The two boys stood, waiting to be acknowledged. Sean looked at the boys; his expression told me he was thinking the same thing as me. Why didn't these boys take the opportunity they had and just leave; leave the premises and leave us alone? Sean didn't say anything. He stood there and waited for them to tell him what they wanted. "We just wanted to say again how sorry we are 'bout what we did. What we said in there, in front of the judge, we meant it. We'd already told our folks we wanted to apologize to you and then our attorney told our folks it might help if we did it in front of the judge. Well, we just wanted you to know that we really mean it. What we did was stupid and we were stupid jerks for going along with it." The boys had just told me something that I already suspected. It was easy to tell the difference in the boys when Kyle was around and when he wasn't. These two boys were the followers. Sean didn't say anything; he just looked at the boys. Both boys were shifting from one foot to the other and looking at Sean and then me. I wasn't going to make this easy for them; this was Sean's call. Then, Sean did something none of us expected. He waved his right hand, palm out, in a tight arc, pivoting at the elbow and simply said "hi". You could look at Ben and Adam and see they were just as surprised as I was. Then, the two boys looked back at Sean, who was grinning, and all three boys broke into fits of laughter. It took Phyllis and I another two minutes or more to put it all together; we smiled. Kids always find a way to move beyond bad situations in the simplest ways. I looked beyond the boys and spotted the boys' families watching us. They had no way of knowing what was being said, but they knew the three boys laughing was a good sign. "We were goin' to Danny's Place to meet some of the guys for burgers and wondered if Sean would like ta join us. I mean, we understand if he didn't. We just thought that maybe . . .well, you know?" Sean looked at me and I told him it was his choice. He had a cell and we could pick him up later. He smiled and turned to look at his mother; he was supposed to be going with her. Phyllis gave him the motherly smile and nodded. "Mr. G, what'er you gonna do?" Sean asked just before the three boys took off. "I thought I might call David and see how things were going at home." Sean gave me that mischief look and grin of his. It screamed that he knew something that I didn't suspect. "Sean?" "Nothing, Mr. G. It's just, well, maybe you better talk to David. I think Frank and Mike were plannin' on a kind of 'special' fantasy, maybe?" "What kind of . . ." "We gotta go, Mr. G. I'll call ya. See ya later, Mom." The boys took off while the adults just stood there and watched them. No one would have guessed that several weeks ago, two had attacked the third. They ran off like the best of buddies. Me? I was going to take Phyllis to lunch and call David. Now that I had time to think about it, I really did want to know what my boys were up to. End Ch Thirty-Three To Be Continued Comments welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com