The big activity for Friday was a trip to North American Top Gun so the guys could fly the planes. I wasn't interested in doing that. The planes were old, and I didn't trust them one bit. The place was an airport that catered to Top Gun and a few small, private planes. It must have been a commercial airport at one time, though, because it had a terminal building, with chairs and all, for people who were waiting. There were a couple of young guys in there who caught my eye right away. I walked over and struck up a conversation with them. They were both in their late teens or early twenties, and they were dressed in clothes that weren't real fashionable. I mean, they were wearing jeans and tee shirts, but they were old and worn-out looking. And they really didn't look all that clean. They both could have used a haircut, too. "What's up?" I asked. "Nothing much," one guy said. "We're waiting for my cousin." "I'm waiting for some guys who are flying the planes," I said. "Do you guys live here?" "Yeah. You?" "Naw. Just visiting," I said. "Is there any action around this place?" "What kind of action?" one of them asked. "Action for a horny boy, that's what kind," I said. One of them held up his right hand. "This is about it," he said. The other one laughed. "Have you guys ever had blowjobs?" I asked. "Shit. I wish," the second guy said. "Have you?" "Yeah, and I've given some, too," I said. "Are you interested?" Their eyes got big. "Are you serious, man?" the second guy asked. "What are you? Some kind of fag or something?" "Yes to both questions," I said. "Does that bother you?" "Not if you're giving blowjobs. How much?" the first guy asked. "Free," I said. "I'm horny as hell, and I want to get off." "Let's go," the first guy said. We went into the men's room together. It was small, but there was enough room. I took care of the first guy, who's name was Jake, and I came with just a little bit of rubbing. I came with the second guy, Ryder, too. They both thanked me big time and said the blowjobs were fantastic. "What are you doing the rest of the day?" Jake asked. "I've got to hang out with those guys I'm with," I said. "Why? What do you have in mind?" "We came here to score some smoke off my cousin, and we plan to party the whole day, and the whole night, too," Jake said. "What time are you going to be done with them?" "Shit, not till late tonight. We're supposed to go to some lame-ass ghost walk thing at midnight," I said. "Meet up with us then," Ryder said. "I'd like to, but I don't have a ride," I said. "We'll pick you up. Where are you staying?" Ryder asked. I told him the name of the hotel, and he said they knew where it was. "Meet us out front around 1:30," Ryder said. "We'll pick you up. I know his cousin's going to want a blowjob, and we're going to want another one, too." "No problem," I said. "I'm going to want some of that smoke, too." They chuckled. "I figured you would," Jake said. They finally came inside from flying the planes around one o'clock. Jake and Ryder were long gone by then. We went to lunch, and all Kyle and Justin could talk about was how awesome their plane rides were. You would have thought they had been on the first flight at Kitty Hawk or something. "When I first took over, I was real nervous, you know?" Justin said. "We weren't up all that high, but I knew I was flying it. At first I was going kind of slow, but he told me to speed it up, so I did. I was so excited I got a hard-on." "I got one, too," Kyle said. He and Justin were so happy and soooooo fucking cute. They were grinning at each other and high-fiving and all. "You two are such fags," Rick said. "You got one, too, didn't you?" Justin asked Rick. "No, I did not," Rick said. "I don't think he can get 'em at his age, Justin," Kyle said. "Very funny, Kyle," Rick said. "Ask Kevin." "Leave me out of this," Kevin said. "That's a loyal husband, right there," Kyle said. "He won't tell the secrets of the bedroom for nothing." "Goddamn it! I can get an erection anytime I want to," Rick said. It was fun watching this because he was taking them seriously. "Look at him," Justin said. "I know," Kyle said. "What?!" Rick demanded. "Bubba, we got you last so bad, you ain't ever hearing the end of this," Justin said. Rick turned red and looked at Kevin. Kevin just grinned and nodded. "Fuck!" Rick said. "Shit, I can't believe I fell for that. Yeah, you did get me last for sure, you shitheads." That afternoon we went to the original Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum, which had been set up by Ripley himself a long time ago. That had some really cool stuff in it, and I enjoyed that. Then we went to the Fountain of Youth National Archeological Park. Ponce de Leon, the guy who "discovered" Florida for the Spanish, was looking for the Fountain of Youth. You were supposed to be able to drink the water out of the Fountain of Youth and be young forever. "This is bullshit," Justin said. "All it is, is a regular damn water fountain. Not only that, but I don't want to be a kid my whole life. I want to grow up. I want to be a man." "God, almighty! You win the 'thick-head award' for sure. It's a tourist trap. It ain't real, Bubba. It's just a regular ole spring. Do you see any eighty-year-old kids around here?" Kyle demanded. "So why did ole Ponce come all the way from Spain for this? Huh? Answer me that, Kyle," Justin said. "He was a serious man. He knew what the hell he was doing." Kyle looked at Justin with that certain look that said Kyle had been "had." "You're pulling my dick, aren't you?" Kyle said. "Your dick's the real Fountain of Youth, if you want to know the truth about it," Justin said. "You fucker. I hate you, Justin," Kyle said, laughing. The thing about those two was they did mini comedy routines constantly, and that was just one example, of many. I don't think they planned them out. They just happened, and Tim and Brian were their best audience. You could almost feel the love among those four guys. We had dinner that night, went to a movie, and then we went on the Sheriff's Ghost Walk. "Cut it out," Kyle said loudly, while we were on the Ghost Walk. It was just us in that tour group, and Justin had rubbed his butt. Of course, that was all Justin needed. In another hundred yards, Justin reached around Kyle and fondled his crotch. "Get your damn hands off me, Justin," Kyle said. "That wasn't me. That must have been the ghost," Justin said. "If I get touched again, you're going to be a ghost," Kyle said. "Yeah, big talk," Justin said. "Does anybody happen to have a loaded pistol on 'em?" Kyle asked. "I could load up my pistol pretty quick, if you wanted me to," Justin said. "Not that kind of pistol, you dumb fuck," Kyle said. The tour guide was a young guy, probably a college student. I thought he was going to keel over, he was laughing so hard at them. If he wasn't gay, he was very gay-friendly, that's for sure. He knew what was going on. Everybody was tired when we got back to the hotel, and we didn't even gather to have a drink. I was sleeping in a bed by myself, and Denny and Murray were sleeping in the other bed. I checked my watch as soon as I heard their breathing get regular, like they were asleep. I whispered their names a time or two, just to be on the safe side, and they didn't say anything. I got out of bed, got dressed, and slipped out of the room. I didn't take my wallet because I didn't want it lifted off me by those guys, in case that's what it turned out to be, but I did take my room key, which was just a credit card thing anyway. I'm sure there must have been somebody on duty somewhere in the hotel, but it was dead quiet and nobody was around. It wasn't scary or anything, but it seemed a little creepy. Outside, there wasn't any traffic on the streets. It was quiet out there, too, and that was a little eerie. I started to go back inside and forget the whole thing, but that's when Jake and Ryder pulled up. I don't know what kind of car it was, but it was old and pretty beat up. It had a bench seat in the front, and they made me get in the middle. Jake was driving. I wasn't in the car for more than a few seconds when they handed me a joint and a bottle of whiskey. I lit the joint and took a big hit, and then I took a swig of the whiskey. I had never had straight whiskey before, and it burned like fire going down. I coughed a little, and Jake and Ryder laughed. "Just take sips," Ryder said. I did what he said, and I got some more down a lot easier. Ryder took the bottle and took a swig. Then he passed it to Jake, and he did the same. Ryder belched, and they giggled almost uncontrollably. They were high or drunk or both. Ryder grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch. "Help me out here, stud," he said. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to jerk him off or what. "Do you feel it?" he asked. He had an erection. "Yeah," I said. "Take it out and suck me off," he said. I unzipped his jeans and his dick popped out. He either wasn't wearing underwear or he was wearing boxers with a big slit. The front seat of the car was crowded, but I managed to get my face down to his dick. I started working on it, and the body odor was strong. He definitely needed a shower. A few times he pushed my head down, and once he pushed so far that I gagged. That had never happened to me before. I kept sucking and sucking, working it as best I could. It was taking much longer than it had that morning. My mouth was getting tired and was starting to hurt, so I pulled off him. "Don't stop. I want to shoot," he said. "You might not be able to shoot. Too much whiskey and too much weed. One time I fucked a bitch for forty-five minutes when I was wasted, and I never shot. She came, like, a dozen times, and finally I passed out on top of her," Jake said. "I can come," Ryder said. "I ain't ever not come." I went back to work on him, and he was already losing his erection. In another few minutes, we were at the place we were going, though. It was a single-wide trailer in a deserted-looking wooded area. "Come on. Let's go. Billy's waiting for us," Jake said. "Shit," Ryder said, "but I'm going to come if it's the last thing I do." There was loud music coming from the trailer, and I heard a noise like somebody knocking over furniture when we got to the door. It wasn't locked, so we went right in. Inside the place was a wreck. The weed smoke was so thick that I almost didn't need a joint to get high, and there was garbage all over the place. The coffee table had part of a pizza still in the box, and somebody must have turned over an ashtray because there were cigarette butts and ashes all over the table, including on the pizza. It was disgusting. I met Billy, who was Jake's cousin. He looked like he weighed about three hundred pounds, and all he had on was jeans. No shirt. He had several tattoos on his upper body, including a couple that looked homemade. "Ryder, why the fuck is your dick sticking out?" Billy asked. "I was getting a blowjob when we got here, and I ain't put it away yet," Ryder said. "Get back to work, faggot." I did as I was told, and, finally, after what must have been a half hour, he shot his load into my mouth. I came, too, and I got some of my cum on his leg. "Lick it off me, mother fucker," he said, and he popped me a good one on the side of the head. When he hit me like that, I got scared. "No more blowjobs," I said. "That's what you think, faggot," Jake said. "I'd just as soon stick it up his ass, if he won't give me a blowjob," Billy said. "You'd probably like that better, anyway, wouldn't you?" I guestimated he had an IQ of about 25, on a good day. "No. I don't take it up the butt," I said. "You must be a rookie fag, then," Billy said. "But that's what it's going to be, if you won't blow me." At that point, I didn't see that I had many options. "Who's next?" I asked. "Atta boy," Jake said. "I am." Jake didn't take nearly as long as Ryder had taken, and I didn't come with him. Billie was next, and he was rough. His dick was both longer and thicker than Jake's and Ryder's, and he kept trying to force it down my throat. I was gagging pretty bad from him doing that, and then, finally, he shoved it in with a lot of force. I lost it and puked all over him. When that happened, he slammed his fist into the side of my head, and he knocked me down. I hit the corner of the coffee table with my cheek, and he started kicking me, mostly in my nuts but other places, too. I was screaming in pain, begging him to stop, but he wouldn't. I passed out after something in my shoulder snapped from a kick. * * * The next thing I was aware of was waking up the next morning on the side of a road. I had no idea what time it was, but it seemed like it was early. There wasn't any traffic on the road, and I certainly had no idea where I was. Everything hurt. My shoulder was killing me, my face stung like hell, I knew my finger was broken, and my balls were hurting like crap. I stood up, and the pain in my groin was so bad it knocked me down again. When that happened, a pickup truck drove by, and the driver saw me. He got a little past me, and then he backed up. "Are you okay?" he called out. "No. Can you help me? I got in a fight and got the shit beat out of me. Have you got a cell phone?" He pulled his truck off the road and turned off the engine. He got out of the cab and walked over to me, phone in hand. He was just a kid, my age probably, but he looked like he was a good kid. "Do you want me to call 9-1-1?" he asked. "No, but would you call me a taxi?" I asked. "Sure," he said. "But I don't know how to tell them where we are. I'll take you back to a convenience store back a-ways, and the taxi can pick you up there." I got in his truck, and I was careful not to get blood on the seat. It was mostly dry by then, anyway. I noticed my fly was open, so I zipped it up. It wasn't far to the convenience store, and he looked up the number for the taxi in a phone book that was hanging under a payphone out in front of the store. That guy was really being nice to me, and, if it hadn't been for him, I would have really been up shit creek. I thought about offering him a blowjob as a way of saying "thank you," but the taxi got there before I had time to decide for sure if I wanted to do that. "Man, thank you so much," I said. "You saved my life. I wish I could give you some money, but I don't have a dime on me right now." "You don't need to do that. That's what a Christian is supposed to do, ain't it?" "Yeah, and you're definitely a Christian," I said. Whatever, I thought. "I try. Well, listen, I need to get to work, and you need to get wherever you're going. Good luck," he said, and we shook hands. I didn't even know his name, and he didn't know mine. The taxi driver looked at me really funny when I started to get in the back seat. "How you paying for this ride?" he asked, not at all friendly. "You'll get paid. Don't worry," I said. "Who's going to pay me? You?" He had contempt in his voice. "My foster father will. Mister, please, I'm begging you. Some guys jumped me, stole my wallet, and beat me up," I said. "I'm pretty desperate right now. Please believe me. You'll get your money." He hesitated a long time before he said anything. "I'm probably making a mistake . . . but, all right, get in," he said. I told him where I needed to go, and he got me there in about fifteen or twenty minutes. I started to get out and go inside the hotel, but he wouldn't let me. "Get somebody out here to pay me," he said. "I can't. I'm going to have to go inside for that," I said. "All right, but I'm going with you," he said. The lobby of the hotel opened into the dining room, and I saw Kyle, Justin, Brian, and Tim at a table. I called out Kyle's name. They all looked up, startled, and then they all got up and rushed over to me. "What the fuck happened to you?" Kyle demanded. "I'll tell you all about it later. Would you pay for the taxi, please," I said. "Let me go get Kevin and them," Justin said, and he took off. Brian and Tim helped me to the table, and Kyle paid the cab driver. "What hurts?" Brian asked. "Everything," I said. "No, seriously," he said. "My face, my shoulder, my finger, and my balls," I said. He touched my shoulder and I jumped, and then he looked at my finger. "I think your finger's dislocated," he said, "and I'll bet your collar bone is broken or cracked." Brian wet a napkin with some ice water that was on the table, and he held it up to my cheek. Feeling him touch my face so gently and tenderly like that made me start to get hard. I thought I might be turning into a sex fiend. * * * They called in a plastic surgeon to sew up my face so I wouldn't have a bad scar, and the doctor examined me from head to toe. He made me get naked and lie up on the table. It was just the doctor, Kevin, and Rick, so I felt like I was safe. Being naked like that on an examining table was embarrassing to me, even though Kevin and Rick had seen me naked before. At least they let me cover up when the other doctor was working on my face. The doctor "fixed" my dislocated finger by pulling on it. Hard. I almost passed out. He put a splint on it and told me to keep it like that for at least a week. He examined my nuts, and that was very painful, too. "Testicles are a lot sturdier than most men think they are," he said. "His are swollen, but not terribly. He'll probably have some discomfort for a few days, but I can give him a script for something to make the swelling go down." He was talking to Kevin and Rick about me like I wasn't there. "You don't think his are terribly swollen?" Rick asked the doctor. "No. I've seen swollen testicles the size of grapefruits," the doctor said. "Yeah, but see, he's usually built like a chipmunk," Rick said. "Thanks a lot, Dad," I said with a lot of sarcasm, and the doctor laughed. "Sean, I want to examine your penis, too, okay?" the doctor said. Shit, I thought. "Okay," I said. "Tell me if there's any sharp pain," he said. He pulled my penis out as far as it would go, and then he rotated it around in the full range of motion. "Any pain?" "No," I said. There may be a sixteen-year-old boy somewhere who can have a doctor do that to him without having some kind of reaction, but he wasn't the boy on that table that morning. I started getting hard, and I made a noise. "Does that hurt?" the doctor asked, all concerned. "No," I whimpered. "Okay, and I see it still works, too," he said. He looked at Kevin and Rick with a big shit-eating grin on his face, and the three of them laughed. Jesus! Give me a fucking break, I thought. He flicked it with his finger, and the erection went away almost instantly. "We need some x-rays of that collar bone," he said, "and that will about do it." It was one o'clock in the afternoon by the time they finished with me. We stopped at a drugstore on the way back to the hotel to get my prescriptions filled. I was still in a lot of pain, so I took the medicine in the car. I could barely get up to my room. When I got there, I took off my shorts and hit the bed. I was out like a light.
Sean went to sleep as soon as we got to the hotel, and Kevin and I went down to the other boys' room to talk. "How's Sean?" Brian and Tim asked in unison, as soon as we walked into the room. "I think he's going to be fine," Kevin said. "He was beaten up pretty badly, but he probably won't even have any scars from it." "That's good," Brian said. "Maybe. Maybe not," Justin said. "Buddy, you have to give him some sympathy," Brian said. "We've been over this already. You know how I feel about him," Justin said. I had only heard Justin talk that sharply to Brian once or twice before. I knew he had strong feelings about what had happened to Sean, though. Justin put his arm around Brian, and they smiled at each other. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that, Buddy," Justin said. "I know," Brian said softly. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Kyle took Tim's hand in one of his and Brian's hand in the other one. "Oh, I almost forgot. We bought you guys something this morning," Brian said, evidently not emotionally upset about his exchange with Justin. He got up and went to a bag that was on the floor. He produced baseball caps that were souvenirs of St. Augustine for Kevin and me. It was only then that I noticed that all of them were wearing caps identical to ours. "Thanks, guys. You didn't have to buy us anything," Kevin said. "Yeah, we did. You can't just shop and not buy anything. That's too fucking gay," Justin said. "Brian told Justin this morning that he's the straightest gay guy he's ever heard of because he doesn't like to shop," Murray said. "Oh, yeah?" I said, and I knocked the bill of Murray's cap. "Stop it," Murray said. "Stop what, Son?" I said, and I knocked the bill again. "Huh?" and I knocked it again. "Stop what?" and I knocked the bill again. "Kevin, make him stop it," Murray said. He was laughing his ass off. Murray didn't exactly fit the profile for horseplay, but he was just a boy and loved it like the rest of them. Especially when I showed him some attention like I was doing then. I grabbed Murray in a hug, and I rolled us both off the bed. We landed on the floor with a thud. "Aww! I think you broke my coccyx," Murray said, laughing his ass off. "God almighty! He broke your cock?!" Justin said. We all screamed with laughter. I couldn't imagine a better life for Kevin and me than with those kids. Kevin and I had had fun together before the kids, but it was nothing like it was now. "I don't know about y'all, but I'm starting to get ants in my pants," Kyle said, after we had calmed down. "Ants in your pants? Shit, that's what I've been looking for all my life," Justin said. I think we were all a little punchy because of what had happened with Sean, and we all laughed way more than the humor called for. "I'm ready to go," Kyle said. "Where do you want to go?" Justin asked. "There's a place called the Museum of Weapons and Early American History. That's where I want to go," Kyle said. "We can leave him here, can't we?" "I'll stay here with Sean," I said. "Y'all go ahead." "Babe, I'll stay. You go," Kevin said. "Kevin, I'm tired, okay? You wore my ass out last night," I said. "Oh my God! I want all the details of that," Justin said. "You shit," Kevin said, knocking my cap off and laughing hard. "I love you so much." "Oh-oh. Do y'all need some privacy?" Justin asked. That made me laugh hard. "No. Get your asses out of here," I said. "All of you. I'm going to go take a nap on that other bed in Sean's room. Have fun." * * * I let myself into Sean's room quietly. I stood and looked at him for a few minutes. Asleep like he was, he was a tender, beautiful, innocent child. The right side of his face was puffed up, and his eye and cheek on that side were a very violent black, purple, and red. I knew his testicles and finger were swollen, too, and I knew it was probably all from his own doings. Justin had a way of cutting through the crap, and I knew he wasn't terribly fond of Sean. Sean was an upper-middle-class kid, and Justin came from dirt. There was that disparity, for one thing. Of course, Kyle and Tim came from upper-middle- class backgrounds, and maybe even upper class in Kyle's case, if upper class meant he'd never really have to work for a living. But Kyle and Tim "saved" Justin. Plus, he loved them, and they loved him. Kyle was totally at home with anybody, dirt poor or filthy rich, and Tim was growing more and more like Kyle, the longer they were together. Brian was a bit of a wild card in that mix. He didn't come from a family that was dirt poor, like Justin's and Denny's, but we knew he fit into the Big Four perfectly. Ultimately, Brian was probably the most talented, intellectually, of the lot, but he worshipped Justin, just as Tim worshipped Kyle. All four of those guys were extremely smart, although Kyle and Justin affected the local "I'm dumber than you are, and I can prove it" mentality. They'd grow out of that when they got to New Orleans for college, but they'd fall right back into it when they went back to Emerald Beach as adults. It gave them prestige there. I took off my shorts and got into the second bed in the room. I thought about the incredible men I’m helping to raise, and I gradually slipped off to sleep. * * * I slept for about an hour and a half. When I woke up, Sean was still sound asleep. I turned on the TV and watched a golf tournament. That put me back to sleep, and I didn't wake up again until Sean did. I woke up the second time to the sound of Sean and a lamp hitting the floor. The lamp was brass, so it didn't break, and I was hoping Sean hadn't either. "Stay put," I said. "I'm okay, Rick," he said. "I just missed my step. That's all. I'm fine." I helped him stand up and picked up the lamp. "Where were you going? To the bathroom?" I asked. "Yeah," he said. "Do you need to pee?" I asked. He had a big hard-on tenting out his briefs, and I knew that was "morning wood," even though it was five o'clock in the afternoon. "Yeah, I do," he said. "You need a shower, too. Can you take a shower without getting the bandage on your face wet?" I asked. "I think so," he said. "Just piss in the shower, man. I do it all the time," I said. He grinned. "Me, too," he said. He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He got dressed, and then he turned to me with a big grin on his face. The bandage on his cheek was gone, and the wound didn't look all that bad. It was only about a half inch long, and the stitches were very small and very close together. "I think I need to shave," he said. I remembered when I was sixteen and wanted to shave every day, too. Shaving was an affirmation of my manhood, my masculinity. I hate shaving now, but I loved it when I was his age. "Yeah, I think you need to," I said. "Be careful. Don't cut your face up." "I won't," he said. "I know how to shave." "I know you do," I said. He hadn't closed the door when he took his shower, but he closed it when he shaved. Sean was so different, so complex. I wanted to just go in that bathroom with him, and just grab him and hug him to let him know he was okay. Of course I didn't, but I wanted to. * * * "Rick, you would have loved it," Justin said. "It was the Museum of Weapons and Early American History, and they had this concrete block exercise yard. They turned the Death Row prisoners loose in there, and we could shoot at 'em with the guns from the museum." "Yeah, we got a couple, but then they let us turn the dogs on 'em," Kyle said. "You should have seen Brian with those dogs. They were listening to him like they were Trixie and Krewe, or something. He made 'em bite those guys' throats. It was awesome." "How was it really?" I asked. "It was okay, but we've seen better. Probably a four on a ten scale," Brian said. "You didn't miss much." "Thank you, Brian," I said, and he grinned. "How are you feeling?" Brian asked Sean. "I'm a lot better," Sean said. "I feel clean, for one thing. And I don't hurt as much." "Who wants a drink before we go out to eat?" Kyle asked. "The usuals?" "Just Coke for me," Sean said. * * * We took Stan Parker out to eat with us that night. We went to the Outback Steakhouse. Again. The boys loved that place, and the food was consistently good, if rather boring. But when you've got seven teenage boys to feed, you can't do better than the Outback. "Let's get one of every appetizer and share," Kyle suggested. "I didn't have any lunch today, and I'm hungry as a bear." "You can skip a meal now and then. It might help you out a little bit. You're a little bit fat, Kyle," Justin said. "Seven percent body fat, Bubba. What's yours?" Kyle demanded. "I dunno," Justin said. "How the hell would I know that?" "Get it measured," Kyle said. "Kyle, I think Justin was teasing you about being fat," Kevin said. "You're not fat, Bubba." "I know he was, Kevin, but that's something I monitor closely. When you look at my parents, you know I'm not going to be fat genetically," Kyle said. "Let's stop talking about being fat," Murray said. "Bubba, you ain't fat anymore. How much have you lost?" Kyle asked. "Thirty-five pounds. Five more to go," Murray said. "Man, that is fucking fantastic," Kyle said. "I am so damn proud of you, I can't stand it." "That's wonderful, Murray," Kevin said. Murray was grinning his ass off, too. He was very proud of himself, and he had reason to be. I was also proud of the other boys, too, though. They had supported and encouraged their brother throughout his weight loss, and he had come through like a champion. "Murray, I'm just as proud of you as I can be, too, but here's the real test," Justin said. "When you stand at a urinal, can you glance down and see your dick?" "Yes. Now I can," Murray said. "All right, Bubba," Justin said. "That's the main thing." "You had a weight problem?" Stan asked. Stan was a very nice guy, and he was smart, too. I'm glad Kyle suggested we take him out to dinner, both because he was fun and because I figured Kevin would want to get to know him. He had gone through the same Hospitality Administration degree program we had gone through, and I figured he was probably wasting his time as restaurant manager at that hotel. I mean, it was a nice hotel and all, but the route to top management in the hotel industry demanded sales experience. He wasn't getting any of that where he was. "I have a weight problem," Murray said, "and it's something I'm going to have to watch for the rest of my life. Unlike Kyle, I didn't get 'thin' genes. Stan, you would not believe how supportive these boys have been." "I don't want to hear any more about us. We had it to do, and you had it to do. And you've almost done it. We're all so proud of you, but you did it, man. Not us," Kyle said. "Stan, what Kyle and the others won't take credit for is the support they've given me. Here's an example of what I mean. One time we were going to visit my grandmother early on a Saturday morning. They pulled into Burger King for sausage biscuits. While Kyle got their order, Justin literally ran across a parking lot into a grocery store to buy fruit and yogurt for me. That's not all that much, I know, but he thought of it, not me. And every day they could, they've worked out with me in the weight room. I've lost a lot of weight, but I've also gained a lot of muscle because of them," Murray said. Murray had huge tears in his eyes. Everybody at the table was very quiet, and I was so proud of my sons that I got tears in my eyes, too. I looked at Kevin, and he was in the same state I was. "At least one of them, but usually several of them, have gone to the Weight Watchers meeting with me every single week. I hated myself so bad before I came here, I can't even tell you, Stan. I was a total freak. I was fat. I was ugly. I was gay. I was a sissy, which I still am, but maybe not as bad. I had never voluntarily played sports in my life. But none of that mattered to them. I love these guys," Murray said. "Yeah, but let's get the good stuff out, too, Murray," Justin said. "You're smart, you're kind, you're funny, and I, for one, don't think you're ugly. Plus, you've got a steel rod for a spine, man, and I would trust you with my life. And since when is being gay bad? You ain't going to find much agreement at this table with that. I'm proud for you to be my brother, Murray, and I mean that." "Can I please join this family?" Stan said. He said that for comic effect, but I figured there was at least some seriousness in it, too. It got a short chuckle from everybody, but he probably could benefit from being with us a while. "Stan, here's my card," Kevin said. "I'd like for you to call me if you're at all interested in possibly relocating to Emerald Beach. I run eleven hotels and motels, and I'm always looking for management people." Stan's eyes got very bright just then. He looked at Kyle. "I told you this was probably your lucky day," Kyle said. They came around with dessert just then, and everybody but Kyle and Murray ordered one. Kyle's dessert was a cup of coffee, but he did have a cigarette when the others lit up. I knew that was his first in a long time. "Do you want a smoke, Murray?" Sean asked. "No, thanks. I stopped doing that. I could never figure out how to hold those things without Justin getting on me. It's not worth it," Murray said. Justin and Kyle laughed, so I figured it was an inside joke for them. Sean had been very quiet all through dinner, and I knew he was hurting physically and psychologically. I was sure he was also embarrassed over what had happened on the trip, and I knew we were going to have a long row to hoe with him when we got home. We left the restaurant at 10:30. We said goodbye to Stan in the parking lot, thanking him for his help that day and reminding him to call Kevin. "Don't stay up too late, guys. We're leaving at eight o'clock in the morning," Kevin said. "And, Sean, don't dare take a drink tonight, you hear me? You're on that medicine, and you can't drink." "Yes, sir," Sean said. That was the first time I had ever heard him use the word "sir." Maybe that meant something. * * * We got off on the trip home by 8:15. We had a good breakfast at the breakfast bar at the hotel, settled up at the desk, and were on our way home to Emerald Beach. We had had a fantastic time, but we had also had the worst crisis in our family history on that trip, except for the time we almost lost Brian. The guys disappeared when we got home. I knew they were busy checking phone messages, checking emails, and doing homework. Kyle had some kind of meeting, too. We all went to the six o'clock Mass that night, and then we had our final meal of the weekend at the Pelican after church. "That was quite a trip, wasn't it?" Kevin said, when he and I were in bed for the night. "Yes it was," I said. "Can you believe how wonderful our kids are? Well, most of them, anyway." "Sean's wonderful, too, in his own way. We just have to be patient about discovering it," Kevin said. "God, I love you," I said. |