Date: Sun, 11 Jun 2000 11:54:04 EDT
From: Savage8818@aol.com
Subject: Edge Of Town - Chapter 4

This novel is a work of fiction and within the story, involves
relationships between an adult and teenage boys.If you are a minor and
should not be reading this, please leave the site now. If you are an adult
that is repulsed by this type of elationship, there are other stories that
may better suit your tastes and you should leave now.

Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or
locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.


THE EDGE OF TOWN


CHAPTER 4


	Kyle stepped through the open tent door. While he waited Matt and
PJ to gather their belongings together, he strolled over to Jared, who had
already finished gathering his things and was sitting by the remnants of
the spent fire.
	"Are we gonna sleep out tonight?" Jared asked.
	Kyle picked up a stick from the ground and tossed it into the fire
ring. "Nah, I can't tonight. I have to serve at early morning mass
tomorrow," he told him. "I only have two more weeks to serve at this mass
and then I will be serving at the four o'clock mass on Saturday nights."
	PJ exited the tent and heard the trailing end of the
conversation. "Cool," he said. He placed his items on the chair he had
occupied on the previous night. "Then we'll be able to camp out on Fridays
and Saturdays."
	Jared moved the dirt around with his feet, digging a small gully
into the soil. "Dude, ain't you a little old to be an alter boy?" he
asked. He clarified his comments. "Not that it's weird or anything, but
you're almost as tall as the priest."
	Kyle picked up another stick and glanced into the tent to see what
was delaying Matt. He threw the stick behind him. "Well, I think I'm gonna
quit before summer starts," he told them. "I like serving and all, but I've
got lots of stuff to do this summer." He paused for a moment and decided to
change the subject. "Let's take a look around and make sure we didn't
forget anything," he instructed his friends. He looked again into the tent
and saw that Matt was finished. He watched him exit and zip the tent door
closed. "Matt, would you grab the CD player and the discs?"
	"Okee Dokee," he replied as he strolled over to his friends and
reached for the items.
	"What time is it, Jared?" Kyle questioned.
	"Jared looked at his watch. "Seven-thirty."
	Kyle began to lead the group back to the house. "Cool, breakfast
should be waiting when we get back to the house. Mom's got bacon, eggs and
pancakes waiting for us."
	"Wicked," Matt said excitedly. "I'm starved! All this sex has
gotten my hungry!"
	Jared raced past Kyle and PJ followed behind him. Matt caught up to
Kyle and the two boys walked side by side on the path.
	Kyle turned to him, peering over his heap of camping gear. "Was any
of that story you told last night true?"
	Matt smiled. "I had you going, huh?"
	"Well, was it?" Kyle replayed the story in his mind. Something
wasn't right. The details didn't add up.
	"Well, I only heard bits and pieces from my folks about Willie. All
I did was take the fact that he was sent away, added what I heard my folks
say and then made up the rest."
	"Oh," Kyle said softly. So, parts of the story were true! But which
parts? He was going to do a little research in the library and see if he
could dig up any details about the murders and the trial. He was not going
to say anything to the guys until he was sure that there was something to
tell them.
	For the time being, he decided he would act as if nothing was wrong
and play along with the gang. It was just a story to them and so he would
leave it that way.  Finally reaching the house, Kyle and Matt approached
Jared and PJ. Kyle instructed them to drop their gear outside the door. The
smell of bacon met him as he opened the door and he quickened his pace
through the hallway. The others followed behind him.
	Mr. Ross looked up from his morning paper. "Good morning,
Kyle. Morning guys. How did you guys sleep last night?"
	Jared unconsciously had his hands wrapped around his body. "Not too
bad. It was a little chilly this morning, but we can handle it."
	Mr. Ross chuckled. "Well, that's good. I see the wild animals
didn't get you. When I was a boy...."
	Kyle interrupted. "Dad, not another of your boy stories."
	Mr. Ross smiled. "No no...not another story about walking to school
in the snow uphill both ways and killing a grizzly bear with my books. I
was just going to say that when I was young and camped out, I would always
wake up in the morning starved."
	Matt's face flashed a smile. "You were young once?"
	Kyle chuckled. "Yeah, but it was hard carrying a cave around to
sleep in," he teased. "They had to rub sticks together to make fire...and
that's when they weren't being chased by dinosaurs."
	Mr. Ross replaced his coffee cup on the table and gave a mocking
smile. "Ha, ha, ha...very funny," he joked. "You wait until you get to be
my age." He motioned to the empty chairs around the table. "Now why don't
you take a seat. The food should be ready in a few minutes."
	The boys circled the table and each of them found an empty
chair. Eric, Kyle's pain in the neck little brother, was already sitting
down near his dad. His bowl overflowed its top with sugar pops and his
tired, ten-year old puppy-dog-brown eyes scanned something interesting on
the back of the cereal box.
	Kyle went to the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of orange
juice. "Who wants some?" he asked, raising the jug above his head.
	Jared raised his hand "Lay it on us Mr. Host."
	Matt grabbed a piece of cereal out of Eric's bowl, which caused
Eric to hiss at them." Me too," he said as he brought the cereal to his
mouth.
	PJ asked for the sports section and sat down yawning. "Yeah, I'll
have a dose."
	Kyle extracted a stack of glasses from the cupboard near the sink
and placed them on the counter. He scooped them up, cradled them against
his chest, and approached the table. As he approached Matt, he firmly
grabbed the juice jug and with his thumb, he flicked the plastic cap off
the jug. The cap sailed through the air and landed in Eric's cereal.
	"Dad," Eric pleaded.
	Kyle chuckled. "Opps...sorry."
	Eric gingerly pecked at the cap and removed it from his bowl. "Can
I have some?"
	"Take a glass," Kyle said as he extended the stack of cups to his
brother.
	Eric reached for a glass, flipped it over and Kyle poured the
orange, pulpy liquid into the cup. When he was finished he approached his
dad and held the jug up. "Dad?"
	Mr. Ross folded the paper and placed it on the table. "None for
me. I have to get an early start and get some yard work done this morning."
	Kyle approached each of his friends. Each took a glass and he
repeated the pouring until everyone had his juice. When he was finished, he
placed the jug in the center of the table and sat down.
	Mr. Ross rose from the table and took his dishes to the
sink. Placing them into the basin, he turned the water on for a few moments
and then shut it off. "Well, got to run. Hope you guys have a good day."
	Matt returned his glass to the table. "See you later, Mr. Ross."
	Mr. Ross opened the door and rubbed Matt's stubby hair with one
hand. He stopped half way through the doorway and then turned to the
group. "Oh, boys. I meant to ask you. Would you like to go to camp this
summer? You see, I just purchased a place in Restwoods and I think I am
going to clean it up a bit and then open a summer camp. It is about a
quarter mile from Lake Massapoag, so there will be fishing, swimming,
boating.... you know all the fun stuff. There will also be sports and other
things."
	Jared interrupted. "And girls?"
	Mr. Ross smiled. "Well, maybe. It depends on how the place can be
set up so that we can keep you roaming Romeos out of trouble."
		"How much would it cost?" Matt questioned.
	"Well, if you guys could contribute a couple of weekends and help
me fix up the place, I am sure that I could take you in at no charge."
		"Cool," PJ added.
	Mr.Ross smiled and looked pleased. "Great. I will call your parents
tonight and fill them in on the details. If they say its is cool, as you
guys say, then we can make some plans." He turned in the doorway as if to
leave and then turned to the group again. "I'llllll be back."
	Matt's face turned bright red. Kyle was drinking from his cup when
his dad spoke and a burst of laughter caused him to spit the juice out of
his mouth as he laughed. His dad turned, passed through the door, and then
closed it behind him.
	"You're dad's cool," Matt said as he raised the glass to his mouth.
	"Well, you don't have to live with him," Kyle responded. "He can be
cool sometimes, but if you piss him off, watch out."
		"Well, I guess all parents are like that," Jared added.
	Kyle's mom rounded the corner with a plate filled with
pancakes. She brought them to the table and placed them in the
center. "How's my hungry campers this morning?" she asked.
		"Hungry!' Kyle exclaimed.
	Mrs. Ross looked at the group. "Well, there is plenty of food so
don't be shy. If you starve, it's your own fault." She turned and looked at
them from over her shoulder. "'I'll be right back with the bacon."
		Matt was the first to attack the pancakes. "Ok, hurry
back!"
	Mrs. Ross stopped at the hallway that led into the kitchen. "Does
anyone want eggs?"
	Jared looked at the group, who was busy stacking food onto their
plates. When no one acknowledged her question, Jared looked at her. "I
guess we're all set. Thanks Mrs. Ross."
	Mrs. Ross placed her hand on the doorway. "No problem. I'll be back
in a minute." She turned and left the room.
	Kyle got up and went to the refrigerator again. This time, he took
out a bottle of maple syrup and returned to the table with it. The talking
had stopped as the guys shuttled the warm pancakes into their mouths. He
looked up and saw his mother round the corner with the plate of bacon. "Hey
mom, are you going into Greenview in the near future?"
		She strolled toward the table. "Why? What's in Greenview?"
	"Well, I have some research I need to do for a school project. I'm
gonna check out the library here in town and if I can't find what I need
there, I thought I could tag along with you and hit the library there," he
said as be brought a fork full of pancakes to his mouth. He chewed on the
food as he awaited his mother's reply.
	"Well, I might have to do some shopping this afternoon at the
mall," she informed him. "I could drop you off on my way in and then swing
by to pick you up later."
		Kyle swallowed. "That would be cool."
		"All right. I'll be leaving around noon. Please be ready."
		Kyle nodded.
	The boys devoured the plate full of pancakes and Mrs. Ross took the
empty plate from the table and returned to the kitchen to refill it. She
chuckled as she rounded the corner and she softly said out loud, "Geez, I
am glad I only have two boys. More than that and they would eat me out of
house and home."
	"You guys wanna go and hang out at the falls today and maybe do
some fishing?" Jared quizzed the group.
	"That would be cool," PJ mumbled with a mouthful of food. "Why
don't we go to Tullyville Lake instead. I heard they just stocked it."
	"Yeah, there's better fishing at Tullyville," Matt added. "Besides,
the falls only have a few trout and some catfish. I wanna catch some bass."
	"All right, we'll meet at the tackle shop around eleven and grab
some bait. Then we'll head over to the lake," Jared directed. He turned to
Kyle. "You sure we can't talk you into goin', Kyle?"
	"Naw, I gotta get this project done. You know how mad Mrs. Kajenki
can get if you don't hand in your homework."
	"Yeah, she's a witch when it comes to that, " Jared agreed. "Ok,
well we will catch up with you when you get back."
	Kyle was relieved that he was able to get himself out of that
jam. He knew that none of the other guys had old lady Kajenki. Besides, he
might be able to have something to report to the group a little later this
evening.  ~ ~~ * * *

	Kyle's short bike trip into town had taken him past the cemetery,
where he noticed that two workers were preparing a grave for an early
morning burial. The two piles of dirt, scooped from the muddy site and
expertly heaped on both sides of the open hole, covered themselves with an
artificial grasslike material, trying to give them a natural appearance. It
was apparent to everyone that observed them that they definitely were out
of place and did not belong there. A metal, rectangular frame bordered the
open, cement-vaulted hole and rested above it, patiently waiting for the
fiberglass molded fixture that bore the body of the unfortunate Crystalview
resident.
	After reaching the stop sign at the end of Route 32, he had darted
through the four-way intersection and had crossed the wooden bridge that
traversed the reddish brown waters of the Tullyville River. He had pedaled
past the tool factory, some run down garages and shabby houses, and he had
finally arrived at the entrance of the beautifully manicured Main Street of
Crystalview.
	He stopped and surveyed the modern looking, two-lane road, with its
fresh coat of black, asphalt pavement. The double set of bright yellow
lines, which extended perfectly straight before him, seemed to disappear
somewhere at the end of its one and a quarter mile length. The street was
lined on the left by one, long, two-story building that stretched the whole
length of the road. The building was set back from the curb and its first
floor was separated into little stores. Each of them had two large display
windows placed on each side of the recessed alcove that housed a large,
wooden, glass-paneled entrance. Before each window, a large, brown-stained
flower box rested on the curb and each flower box bore a three by five foot
oak sign that was painted with name of a business which had sponsored its
creation and paid for its upkeep. Little purple crocuses, yellow daffodils
and red, white and peppermint hyacinths decorated the boxes and later in
the year, they would give way to orange marigolds, purple and pink petunias
and other colorful, annual flowers that would dress up these boxes,
offsetting the ill repaired buildings with blazing colors. A sidewalk,
fashioned with red bricks and set in a herring bone pattern, filled the
space between the curb and the storefront and was wide enough to
accommodate at least three people walking abreast.
	The unusually warm weather had brought the town to life early this
morning. Cars were stopping and parking on both sides of the street and the
little shops had already opened their doors for business and swallowed up
their would-be patrons. The benches, placed near the edge of the curb and
which lined the street every 200 feet or so, were starting to fill with old
timers.
	Kyle could see his friend Jared's favorite stores from where he
paused. Fred's music sold the equipment he needed to keep his rock and roll
dream alive and Jukebox Music sold the Compact discs of his favorite
groups. They sat side by side, as if there was some magical filing system
in place, grouping similar types of stores together to make shopping
easy. Next to them, the Mug and Muffin, a favorite breakfast and brunch
spot, was bustling with customers that purchased their freshly brewed
coffees and home made muffins. He could even see the pool hall, which
doubled as a two-lane bowling alley. It was an odd combination. The pool
hall graced the entrance of the building and, just by strolling through a
narrow doorway past the three pool tables, you could find the quaint
bowling alley nestled in the back of the building. The duckpin lanes were
in need of repair, but no one seemed to mind bowling on the yellow faded,
varnished floor, using chipped bowling balls and aiming at pins that were
white-washed and speckled with paint chips.
	The right side of the street was dotted with buildings, which were
separated by a series of narrow side streets. The same flower boxes and
benches spattered this side of the street. Different business and municipal
buildings took up residence on this side of the street. Crystalview bank
and Crystalview Pizza were just a few of them. In front of him sat the
modern police station and the library. A bench separated these buildings
and Mrs. Kajenki had taken up her usual Saturday morning position on this
bench. It was a common ritual for her when the weather was nice. There she
would sit all morning, in a relaxed state, chronicling the life of the
town, studying the residents, strangers, business and traffic and, like
him, waiting to see some change in the stagnant town.
	Kyle knew that she realized that nothing ever changed. From the
pictures on the wall inside the Pizza place, the buildings looked the same
and little businesses always occupied them, trying to support their
owners. There were never enough businesses in town to support the residents
of Crystalview. If you didn't work at the tool manufacturing company or in
some of the other little stores in the area, you had to find work in Irwing
at the paper mills.
	There was some hope, for a while, when the Shop and Save plaza came
to town. The supermarket, paint store, and drug store offered hope for new
jobs. Even a Burger King fast food restaurant popped up one day.
Unfortunately, it was only in town for eight months and went out of
business because a fire destroyed it. Now, a medical center took over the
spot where it once stood.
	He returned his gaze to his teacher and noticed her
trademark-carrying bag, resting on the sidewalk near her left foot. Her
carrying bag was always the talk of her students. The oversized canvas bag,
with its two large straps, was always part of her apparel. She brought it
everywhere and it seemed she had everything in there except the kitchen
sink. Although she wasn't an old woman, her chestnut brown hair was
streaked with gray and a perfectly woven, long braid was wound into a bun
and fastened to the back of her head. She was a strict but fair teacher and
was always very helpful and friendly, if you were on her good
side. Moreover, that bag had saved him some embarrassment once.
	He remembered the time that he was horsing around with his friends
before school, playing football in the large grassy field at Crystalview
High. After the game was over, he realized that he had somehow split his
pants. His Tasmanian devil boxer shorts were in clear view for all to see
and on his way to gym class, apparently Mrs. Kajenki had noticed them
too. She took him aside and told him to go into the locker room and quickly
change and then bring the pants to her. Kyle followed her instructions and
as he opened the door of the locker room, he noticed that she was already
extracting a needle and some thread from that large bag. When he returned
from gym, he found his pants expertly repaired and neatly folded on the
bench near his locker. His embarrassment ended, thanks to her.
	He watched as she slowly turned her head to follow the progress of
a passing car and that brought her gaze to the spot where Kyle was resting
and observing his teacher. He didn't realize that he was staring and when
her eyes met his, she recognized him with a smile and nodded a hello. He
felt his face flush, but he smiled, waved and then watched her return her
stare down Main Street.
	Kyle didn't want to end up like many of these people. He didn't
want to spend his life working in a paper mill, tool factory or cooking
food in a pizza joint. He did like the town and hoped that he could stay
here to make his living someday. He wanted to be a private investigator but
he seriously doubted that there would be anything in this town for him to
investigate. Even as a police detective, that didn't offer much
hope. Nothing exciting ever happened here. He loved the challenge of taking
the pieces of a mystery puzzle and putting them all together to solve the
case. The mysteries didn't seem to plague this quiet town. Maybe the case
he was on would stir up some excitement and change his mind.
	The library was a four story brick building located just a few feet
away but there was only one problem. He'd have to pedal by his teacher. She
knew he was there and she always liked to stop people passing by and start
up a long conversation about the weather or their activities for the
day. He didn't have much time this morning for such trivial chatter and he
needed to get in and out of the library. He placed his foot on the pedal of
the bike, gave it a swift push downward and, as it coasted along Main
Street, thought of a way to avoid his teacher.
	As he glided near the bench that Mrs. Kajenki occupied, he looked
over his left shoulder and pretended to observe the traffic behind him. His
plan worked. He successfully glided past her and his bike came to a slow
stop in front of the bike rack, neatly placed in front of the library. Kyle
took the chain that was wrapped under his bike seat and followed the links
until he got to the combination lock. He whirled the dial around counter
clockwise three times and stopped at forty. Two whirls clockwise to
twenty-four, one turn clockwise to seven and with a slight tug, the
tumblers gave way and the lock clicked open.
	Securing the front tire in the bike rack, he wrapped the chain
around the front tire and the frame and then secured the links with the
lock, clicking it shut. He spun the dial back and forth a few times and
then gave the lock a good tug. Confident that the lock closed, he grabbed
at the rail and followed it up the six cement steps that led him to a set
of glass doors.
	As he pulled on the sturdy brass handle to open the door, he
stepped onto the creaky wooden floor, which announced his presence to an
older woman sitting behind the desk. She looked up, reached for her thick,
pink-framed glasses, and brought them to her eyes.
	She recognized the familiar face. "Hi Kyle," she affectionately
greeted him, a warm smile touching her lips and bringing her wrinkled face
to life.
	Kyle returned the smile. "Hey Mrs. Trainer."
	She knew that Kyle never visited the library unless he was on a
mission. She looked around the room and, knowing that there wasn't anyone
else in the building, she leaned over her desk and brought her face close
to his. "What can I help you with today?" she asked with a secretive
whisper.
	Kyle remembered the conversation he had with this gentlewoman a few
years back. He was on a detective mission and he had to find out who had
killed Superman in the comics. He approached the desk and decided he would
play along. He leaned over so that the librarian could only hear his
whisper. "I was wondering if you had any newspapers that go back about
twenty years or so."
	Her eyebrows knitted themselves into a wrinkle. "Hmm, let me
think," she responded, as she made her way around the old counter that also
served as a desk. "I think we have everything on microfiche." She turned
and began to walk toward the reference section. "I don't know if we have
anything that goes back that far, but let me see."
	Kyle followed her down the narrow aisle and they both stopped at a
machine set on a table against the back wall.
	"I've been after the town to install computers in this place so we
can just call up the information in a matter of seconds," she told
him. "But you know how it is. There are more important things the town
needs and my requests are put on the back burner."
	Kyle nodded politely as the women looked in a loose-leaf
binder. The pages were protected by plastic inserts and she expertly ran
her fingers down one page and then on to the next, until she stopped at an
entry on the bottom.
	"Looks like you're in luck," she said triumphantly. "We go back
about twenty-five years. Are you looking for something in particular?" she
asked.  Kyle was not afraid to tell her about the project. She always had a
reputation that was well known around town and she could keep a secret. She
always prided herself at being helpful and she never laughed at any
request.
	He had remembered when he came in here and had asked one time about
some books on sex. It took a lot of courage for him to ask her and he was
afraid that she was going to tell everyone in town.
	She had been very helpful that day and whispered to him that she
would be glad to help him. "It's better to learn the right information than
to get it from the streets," she had told him. She also had recommended to
him that he discuss it with his parents and with his family doctor. Both
would be happy to help answer his questions, and the questions that he felt
embarrassed to ask his parents could be easily asked to his doctor, who was
sworn to patient confidentiality. She even took the time to explain that
big word. Anything said to the doctor was just between him and Kyle. No one
else would know.
	Now, he needed her expertise once more. "I am doing some research
on three-fingered Willie," Kyle said softly. "We camped out last night and
Matt Giblin told us a story about Willie. I didn't know if he made it
up. Some things that he said just didn't add up. So I want to check it out
and see what really happened."
	Mrs. Trainer's face took on a grim look. "I remember that period
well," she said sadly. "It was an awful time in this town." She paused and
then her voice trailed off. "Those poor boys." A tear touched the corner of
her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She returned her stare into the book
and then mumbled a number. She then reached into a draw and pulled out a
roll that had the same markings as the number she mumbled. "Here you go,"
she said as she loaded the roll into the machine. "You know how to work
this old machine?"
	"Not really," Kyle replied. "I am just used to punching in a word
on my computer and letting it get me all the info I need."
	She turned to face the machine. "Well, it's pretty simple. Just
push this button to advance it to the right. This button moves it to the
left." She pointed to a knob, placed just below the center of the
screen. "This knob will focus the article. These two will move the lens up
and down. When you find something that you want, hit this button and you
can get a copy of it on that machine." She pointed to a machine that looked
like a copy machine. "Ill be at the desk if you have any questions or
problems."
	"Thanks a lot, Mrs. Trainer," he said politely.
	"And don't worry...my lips are sealed," she added as she brought
her hand up to her lips as if holding an invisible key and then she made a
motion like she was locking her lips with the key.
	Kyle smiled as she played out the scene. Then he watched her turn
and head back down the narrow aisle. As she walked away, he could hear her
mumble to herself, "those poor boys."  ~
					* * *

	Jared brought his mountain bike to a skidding stop in front of the
salmon-colored, stucco textured building. Mr. K's Bait Shop was clearly
announced by the black, five inch plastic letters, which were
professionally arranged and fastened to the a new addition added onto his
residence. Because of the many lakes that dotted the area and the large,
man-made reservoir, located two towns over, fishing was a very popular
activity in this area. Mr. K had seen the need to fill the desires of the
would-be anglers.
	Although the shop was located on one of the side streets off Main
Street, the location was not that important. Everyone knew where it was. In
addition, anyone, who traveled to this area for the fishing, knew that
Mr. K had the best selection of tackle and the largest supply of bait in
the area.
	He dismounted his bike, leaned it against the building, and placed
his fishing rod in an upright position next to the bike. He was impatient
this morning and while he waited for his friends to arrive, he removed a
cardboard minnow bucket from the handlebars of the bike, slipping its metal
handle over the brake cable. He began to ready the container for the bait
fish by removing the cover, tipping the bucket upside down and gently
hitting its bottom, trying to shake the contents from the inside. A few
dead pine needles dropped out of the bucket and drifted to the cement
pavement and when he was satisfied that he had removed all of the unwanted
debris, he turned it upright again and replaced the cover.
	He looked to his left and right, trying to see Matt and PJ, but he
knew it would be about an hour before they arrived and they probably were
going to be late as usual. It was his usual plan to stop in and spend time
with his older friend before the fishing trips with his younger buddies
took place.
	His button fly blue jeans hugged his tall, lean frame and were
stylishly matched with a faded rock and roll T-shirt. A red bandana,
wrapped around his head and tied behind it, kept his shoulder length, long
blond hair out of his face. As he walked toward the entrance, the gold,
guitar-shaped earring swung back and forth from his left earlobe.  With the
minnow bucket in his hand, he approached the entrance to the Mr. K's home,
and the bell and waited.
	Jared watched at the door swung open and saw the presence of a
good-looking, muscular man filling the doorway. He was in good shape for a
man of forty-two and from his build, he could probably be mistaken for a
linebacker. His arms were large, muscular and veiny, appearing to be the
byproduct of many years of weightlifting. His shoulders attached themselves
to his head by two buldges of muscle, causing him to look like he had no
neck...he was all muscle. The tight-fitting, half-cut t-shirt clung snuggly
to his well defined-chest and his hairy six-pack were on display for Jared
to examine with his lust-filled eyes.
	Jared unconciously followed the man's features downward and gazed
at the large buldge that was hidden behind the gray, athletic shorts that
Mr. K wore. He fixated on that buldge, unaware of his surroundings and only
brought out of his trance when Mr. K. greeted him.
	"Jared, so nice to see you!" Mr. K. spoke in a cheerful, baritone
voice. "The shop's not open yet, but I can open it up for you, if you're in
a hurry."
	"No, it's ok," Jared said as he came out of his daze. "I figured
I'd come by and talk with you a while."
	"Oh, that's so nice," Mr. K said as he smiled. "Come in."
	Jared passed through the doorway and gave his friend a hug. "I'm
sorry I haven't been around much," he said sincerely. "I've had a lot of
shit going on at home."
	"Well, I understand," Mr. K. whispered. "You know that I'm here for
ya buddy."
	Jared removed his head from the warmth of his friends neck and
looked deeply into Mr. K's eyes. "I know," he said softly. A tear moistened
the corner of his eyes.
	"What's that all about," Mr. K. asked as he gently wiped the
dribbling tear from Jared's rosy, bony check. "Comon and sit down."
	Jared followed his friend into the living room and watched his
friend sit on the couch.
	"Comon, take a load off," Mr. K. motioned as he patted the cushion
of the couch beside him. "Tell me what's on your mind."
	Jared slouched unto the soft couch and rested his head on Mr. K's
shoulder. He looked pleadingly into his friend's eyes. He was mezmerized by
this man and he couldn't get the words from his mind and make them come out
for his friend to hear. His eyes grew blury as the tears began to flood
them.
	"Awww..it can't be that bad, Jared," Mr. K. consolded him as he
slid an arm aroud his shoulder. "You know you can talk to me about
anything."
	Jared felt sad, confused, and content all at once. Sad that he was
gay and didn't know if he could be accepted by others because he was that
way; confused about the emotions he was having right now and how he longed
to make love to Mr. K.; content to be held by the strong and loving arms of
this man. He felt his cock begin to swell as he revelled in the touch of
this man, the caress of his thick fingers through his long hair and his
warm breath on his check.
	Both of them sat in a comfortable but casual position for a long
time. Mr. K. had never seen his friend upset like this. It was as if he was
carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and he knew that Jared
would confide in him when the time was right.
	Jared was a god-send in a way; shortly after his hunting accident,
he felt alone and despondent. Without the use of his leg, he would be
unable to do the outdoor activities that the he loved and lived for. He had
no one special in his life; no wife and no children. Although he had never
thought about sex with a man or women, he had urges; urges that he
fulfilled daily with masturbation. He didn't think about another person
when he was pleasuring himself, rather he just thought about how nice it
would be to be loved by another person.
	As he lay in his hospital bed, feeling dejected about the hunting
accident and all of the challenges that lay before him, a young boy
wandered into semi-private room. The boy visited the other man who shared
the room with Mr. K. From the conversation that took place, it seemed that
the boy was visiting his father. Although the boy seemed to love the man,
the man seemed very angry and cold toward the youth.
	Each day, Mr. K. would smile and nod a greeting to the lad as he
entered the room and the youth would return an infectious smile. One
particular day, the youth arrived early and it seemed that his father was
going to be taken out of the room and brought upstairs for an operation. As
the boy's father was wheeled out of the room, the boy stood motionless at
the foot of Mr. K's bed and began to weep.
	That presence each day caused him to forget about his misery and he
lived to catch a glimpse of the youth. It was apparent that the boy had
much love to give but that the father didn't seem to want that love. On
this day, Mr. K. finally got up the courage to speak to the lad.
	"Come here, son," he beckoned.
	The boy came toward Mr. K. and sat on the bed.
	"What's your name?"
	"Jared," the eleven-year-old squeaked.
	"You seem sad today."
	"Yeah, daddy's going for an operation."
	"He'll be ok," Mr. K told him.
	"I'm scared."
	"It's ok to be scared, but being scared is not going to help your
dad."
	"I know," Jared cried. "But I don't think he cares that I'm here."
	"He loves you," Mr. K. said. "Sometimes, he just doesn't know how
to tell you that."
	"I don't think he loves me," Jared sniffled. "Ever since this." He
pointed to an earring in his left ear.
	"And why would that make him not love you?"
	"He thinks I'm a girl cause I wear earrings."
	"Naw...you're not a girl," Mr. K. said gently. "You got a PP
right?"
	Jared chuckled. "Yeah, hehehe."
	"And girls don't have Pee Pee's do they?"
	"No, they don't," Jared smiled a little.
	"Ok then, so you're not a girl."
	"I guess," Jared confessed. "But how do I get my dad to know that?"
	"He knows," Mr. K. assured him. "He just teases you."
	"I know," Jared told him. "But it hurts. I try to hug him and he
tells me he doesn't want a hug from a fag."
	"And what is a fag?"
	"A homo, you know," Jared said bluntly.
	"Did you know that Blackbeard the Pirate wore earrings in both
ears?"
	"He did," Jared asked quizzically.
	"Yes, he did," Mr. K. said. "And do you think he was a fag..um
homo?"
	"I don't know, but he was a tough dude," Jared admitted.
	"You bet," Mr. K went on. "And if anyone told him he was a homo, he
probably would have killed him."
	"Yeah," Jared laughed.
	"But Jared, you have to remember one thing."
	"What's that?"
	"It's not the clothes you wear, or the jewlerly that you own that
makes you who you are. It's what is inside of you that counts."
	"Huh?" Jared asked puzzled.
	"Don't worry about what people say about how you dress or what you
wear. If you're a good person inside and those people are any good at all,
they will love you for who you are...not for what you wear or how you
dress."
	"That's neat, umm...what's your name?"
	"Mr. Kingsley."
	"That's neat, Mr. Kins..King...can I call you Mr. K?"
	"Sure, son."
	Mr. K. rubbed Jared's tiny back and the boy cradled his head on the
man's shoulder. "I like talking to you," Jared confessed. "You understand
me."
	"Well, you can always talk with me if you want,"
Mr. K. whispered. "About anything."
	"Anything?" Jared squeaked.
	"Anything," Mr. K. repeated. "I'll never laugh about anything you
ask."
	They rested together for a short time Jared fell asleep in the
man's arms.
	Mr. K. returned his thoughts to his friend. They held each other
like that first day but under a different situation. Over the years, they
had grown closer and Jared was the son that Mr. K. never had.
	That day, his mother had come by the hospital room and found the
boy in his arms. She was grateful that someone had been there to console
her son. With her permission, she allowed Mr. K. to become a part of
Jared's life for she feared that the wedge between her husband and the
family was driving deeper into their lives and that soon, there would be no
man in Jared's life.
	Jared continued to look into his friend's eyes. He could feel love
and a sense of belonging. He wanted to share himself with his friend but
was afraid that the love he longed to give was going to be refused, just as
his father had done.
	Without speaking, he moved close to Mr. K. and brought his lips up
to his friend's lips. He began to kiss Mr. K. deeply and then Mr. K. broke
the embrace and looked at Jared.
	Jared was afraid. He bolted upright and began to rise when he felt
Mr. K's hand grab his arm.
	"Whooa, there Jared."
	Jared's mind reeled. He had destroyed his friendshp with this man,
letting his passion get the better of his judgement. He wanted to run and
hide but couldn't move because the man had a strong grip on
him. Mr. K. rose and grabbed Jared by the waist, snuggling close to him
from behind.
	"Where you goin?"
	"I ruined everthing," Jared cried. "I'm gay and I want you."
	"Take it easy, son," Mr. K. cooed. "I'm not mad."
	Jared stopped his squirming and struggling and turned to face his
friend. "You're not?"
	"No, I'm not," Mr. K. told him. "I'm honored."
	Jared smiled and then frowned. "But why did you break away?"
	"I just wanted to ask you if this is what you really wanted."
	"That's why?" Jared asked. "You don't care that I love you like
this?"
	"I want you to love me for the right reasons, Jared."
	"But I do love you for the right reasons. I love you for who you
are and not for your possessions, your disability, your clothing...I love
you for YOU."
	"And..."
	"I was hoping that you loved me even though I'm gay."
	"Jared, my sweet, I love you and I have always loved you since that
first day we embraced."
	"Then what's the problem?"
	"There's not problem," Mr. K. said. "I just don't want you to think
that sex between us is a way that you want to demonstrate our love for each
other...our friendship."
	"Mr. K. I've been taught that the most powerful demonstration of
love is the giving of oneself to the other emotionally and
physically. You've been there for me through the hard times and the good
times and you've always encouraged me to do the right things and act the
right way."
	"I've tried," Mr. K. agreed.
	"And when everyone was talking down to me for the way I dressed or
for my dreams, you were always there to pick me up and make me feel
good...you believe in me."
	"And now that I realize that I am gay, I want to bring our love to
the next step...share in your pleasure as well as your pain."
	Mr. K. smiled and brought his lips to Jared's. Jared returned the
kiss with passion and the probed his friend's lips with his tongue, driving
them open so that he could explore his friend's mouth with the tongue. He
felt Mr. K's lips part and allow his probing tongue to enter and greeted
the tongue with his own.
	They returned to the couch and continued their kiss, both moving
their hands over the other's body, exploring all areas of their warm flesh
and making each other feel good. Mr. K. reclined on the couch and drew
Jared's slender body on top of his.
	Jared could feel his cock throbbing from inside of his jeans and
pressing it against Mr. K's groin, he could feel his friend's hardness and
knew that Mr. K. loved what was transpiring between the two of them.
	The clock on the mantle began to chime and Jared knew that his
friends were going to be arriving any moment. Hesitantly, he broke his
embrace and looked deeply into Mr. K's eyes. "Matt and PJ are supposed to
meet me at ten," he informed his friend.
	"It's ten now," Mr. K. responded.
	"Can we continue this later tonight after I get back from fishing?"
	"We can continue this whenever you want," Mr. K. smiled.
	Jared removed himself from ontop of Mr. K. and stood up. He
adjusted his cock inside of his jeans. "I hope they don't see this when
they get here," he chuckled.
	"Nor this," Mr. K. said as he grabbed hold of his large bulge. They
took a moment to settle themselves and allow their cocks to shrivel back
into a normal, resting position. Jared grabbed hold of the minnow bucket
and left through the outside doorway. "I'll see ya downstairs," he said to
Mr. K.
	"Be there in a minute," Mr. K informed him.
	Jared waited patiently as Mr. K. made his way to the bait shop and
unlocked the door. The tingle, jingle of the bell attached to the top of
the door, signaled his arrival, and the humidity from the open-air tanks
permeated the shop, giving it a damp, musty smell. The gurgling of pump
filters and the sounds of trickling water masked the sound of classic rock
music, which was pumping out of an old transistor radio that Jared knew
Mr. K kept behind the counter.
	Jared was glad that he had a friend in Mr. K. and now, a lover. A
moment when he was ten flashed into his mind and he remembered watching a
rock video on a music video station one day. He wanted to get his ear
pierced, just like the guys on the video. He had just gotten his guitar,
had just started taking lessons and getting the earring was the next
logical step to becoming a rock and roller.
	When he approached his mother on the idea, she was
supportive. However, he had to fight with his father to convince
him. Finally, he gave in but he never let him forget about his choice and
he belittled him about the earring and questioned his manhood at every
opportunity that he could.
	He always dreaded the showdowns with his dad. He had mixed emotions
about the fights and arguments that they had. The anger and the fights were
more frequent after the earpiercing. He felt angry with his father for his
remarks and he felt sad because, even at an early age, he could sense that
his dad was growing distant from him. He didn't seem to pay as much
attention to him after he had gotten the earring.
	As his mother later explained during a conversation that they had
one day, the failing marriage was the main reason for this. It wasn't
anything about him or the way he looked that caused his father to act and
be that way. He was just unhappy with his job, his family and was longing
for a change. Everything that was familiar to him was just a constant
reminder of how lousy his life was. In addition, his constant drinking
didn't help matters either. Nevertheless and for whatever the reasons were,
his father soon cut out and hadn't seen his son grow to be a man.
	Jared absentmindedly browsed the shop, picking up different pieces
of tackle, examining them, and returning them to the display rack. The
ringing of the bell on the door interrupted Jared's browsing. Matt and PJ
walked through the door together and waved to Mr. Kingsley and then to
Jared.
	"It's about time you ladies got here," Jared snapped at them.
	"Well, excuse us for living," Matt shot back. "We live a little
farther away than you do."
	"Ok, well let's not get into a fight over it. Let's just get some
bait and catch some fish," PJ scolded them.
	All three of them approached the counter and Jared placed the
minnow bucket on top of it. Mr. K grabbed the bucket in a smooth motion.
"Mediums?" he asked.
	"Yeah, two dozen," Jared replied.
	Mr. K dipped the bucket into the tank and filled it with
water. Then he scooped the bait out of the tank and plopped them into the
bucket. After filling the order, he placed the cover on the bucket and set
it on the counter. Without pausing, he started to walk toward a
refrigerator. "Crawlers?" he asked again.
	"A Dozen," Matt instructed. "Please."
	Mr. K reached into the refrigerator and extracted a Styrofoam cup
with a lid on it. He placed it on the counter next to the minnow bucket.
"Will there be anything else, men?"
	After watching the boys shake their heads back he forth, his brow
furled as he added the purchase in his head. "Six bucks even."
	Each boy reached into their pockets and extracted a small sum of
money. They each took turns handing two dollars over to Mr. K.. Matt took
the bucket, Jared took the container, and they all left the store. Each
blurted out their farewell to Mr. K. "Later."
	"Good luck," Mr. K replied. He watched them leave the store and
mumbled to himself after they had left. "What a combination."