Date: Sun, 24 Aug 2003 09:40:12 +0100
From: joshua Caddy  <joshuacaddy@lycos.co.uk>
Subject: For the Times They Are a Changing 4 (Revised)

Legal Notice: The following story may contain descriptions of graphic
sexual acts. These acts may be between a man and a boy.

The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality. The author, or
his designee, retains copyright to this story. There may be no reproducing
or distribution of this story without expressed written consent.


Thank you to everyone who has emailed their interest in my tale. It does
make all the difference to know that people appreciate my efforts, also
that there are true romantics still at large in this jaded world.

I do sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter

Also a special thank you to Adam for his continued editing prowess

joshuacaddy@lycos.co.uk


For the times they are a changing

Chapter the Fourth - Come and mothers and fathers throughout the land.


"Why have you spent so much time drawing me, no one's interested in me, no
one spends any time with me, no one likes me. I'm too ugly for you to draw
...."

On and on Ryan went expressing his loneliness, his lack of self worth, all
the faults he perceived himself to have.

Purposefully I sat in the armchair across from him, hands steepled together
I rested my lips upon my fingertips and gazed at Ryan from under heavy
lids.

Despite the anguish I felt for him, I let him continue his catalogue of
woes until he could no longer speak for sobbing.

The room was as still as the seconds before dawn, when time pauses and the
tranquillity of the moment infuses itself into your mortal essence. Dust
motes drifted in the air between us, eddying on the swells of our
breath. The grandfather clock doled out the seconds distantly from the
other room.

On and on I continued to gaze at the boy. Not blinking, not moving, I
continued to gaze as his body shook with the violence of his sobs, with the
violence of the hurt held within the fragility of his corporal existence.

The moments lasted beyond the mere passage of time. It was as if the world
moved on around us, as though it were a storm and we were held in the eye.

I could not break the enchantment holding me immobile in that pose, for it
was not of my making.

After what seemed the passage of an age, Ryan began to return his turbulent
emotions to their prison within him.

His dishevelled head rose and he returned my gaze though eyes glazed with
liquid pain.

Still I could not act.

He lifted the sketchbook from his lap and offered it to me.

Mutely I accepted the book and closing its pages placed it on the table by
my side.

Engulfed in the depths of the chair Ryan sat and looked at me, expecting me
to speak, expecting that I would deliver a response repudiating or
complying with the diatribe of faults he had catalogued before me.

In a low voice I began to speak

"Why have I drawn you? Because you have captivated my attention. Everything
about you fascinates me, from your smile to the birthmark above your knee.
For two days I have thought of nothing but you. I have drawn what you have
shown me of yourself and I have found nothing I don't like. Nothing at all!
I enjoy your company; I enjoyed spending money on you, I enjoyed cooking
for you. I even enjoyed your stunt with the yard brush. You have no
friends? You have one! No ones interested in you? I am! You're ugly? You
are captivating! No one wants you? I do! No one loves you? I do with every
fibre of my being! In short I want you with me because you fill the void
that's been in my life for as long as I can remember. An emptiness has gone
from me that I have lived with for so long. Everything you have just said
is untrue. If you give me the time I will prove it."

I paused in my heartfelt monologue to allow Ryan to take in what I had told
him. He regarded me with a mixture of confusion, acceptance and disbelief.
Hope had begun to kindle a spark in his eyes.

Slowly I held up my right hand palm facing towards me. The sunlight leaking
into the room caught the gold band on my ring finger sending numerous light
beams reflecting round the room.

"Do you recognise this ring?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

Sighing I responded "I did not expect you to, considering your
situation. When you where christened I gave you two things. One was my
promise to look after you if ever you needed me. The second was the twin of
this ring."

Taking the ring from my finger I tossed it over to him

"Look closely at the monogram and you will see an M and an R bound
together. Your ring is the mirror of this."

Rising from my chair I knelt down at the side of Ryan.

"They were made to fit together. I know it's quite deep but they were meant
to show we are bound together. I hope you realise what you meant to me then
and what you mean now."

"I'm sorry if you don't like my drawings but I did them so I would always
have a part of you with me. As they are of you; I think you had better
decide what to do with them and decide if what I have told you means any
thing to you."

With that I stood up and went quickly into the kitchen. I fought back my
tears until I had put the kettle on. Then, I let my emotions flood over me.

I had not wanted to bare my soul in this way, laying a burden on Ryan
whilst taking one from him. I had never intended to express my need for
him, only the love I had felt building inside. The drawings were my way of
capturing him for me, forever, no matter how events would evolve.

How I wished I had not created them. They had triggered something between
us, it was make or break time; could Ryan accept me into his life in the
way I needed or had I forever prevented that from taking place?

Sitting slumped at the kitchen table, my head in my hands I felt as low as
was humanly possible. Had I irrevocably broken the connection between Ryan
and myself? Was I now excluded from being the person to give Ryan the love
he needed?

Only he could decide.

Lost in the tide of my own emotions I did not hear Ryan enter the room.

A quite little voice spoke my name, "Michael"

Looking up, Ryan stood by my side, the sketchbook clasped to his chest.

"Are these what you really saw?"

"Yes"

"But why? I don't understand, they're awesome, that's not me... Is it?"

The insecurity in his voice reached out to me, touching places deep within
my soul, places long iced over to provide me with protection from my
loneliness.

"They are you, what I see in you. I am unable to put my feelings into words
well enough, that's why I draw. Do you understand what I mean?"

I had held his gaze whilst I spoke. Now he put the book upon the table and
turned as if to leave. I half rose saying his name "Ryan, I'm..."

I did not complete the sentence for he turned around and threw himself at
me, wrapping his arms about me pressing his face into my chest.

HE UNDERSTOOD!

I sank back onto the chair and pulled him onto my lap.

I was cuddling MY boy, holding him to me.

Sitting in the kitchen the sun moved from one window to the next.

As time moved inexorably forward, marked by the passage of this celestial
body, we held each other close, breaking down the barriers we each had
erected within ourselves.

The warmth of Ryan's body seemed to sink into me, easing the aches and
pains of a lifetime alone.

How I hoped and prayed that I could be to Ryan what he was to me.

Our embrace eventually ended with the loud rumbling of Ryan's tummy. He
looked at me sheepishly.

"Is there any breakfast?" he hopefully enquired.

"If you want feeding you'd best get of my knee you fat little hippo!"

Punching me on the shoulder Ryan slipped across to the chair beside me.

"Food, now slave!"

"Yes, oh master," I replied kow towing towards the fridge.

Once again my culinary prowess came to the fore and I produce another huge
fry-up. Ok it's hard on the arteries; but, we didn't claw our way to the
top of the food chain to eat lentils!

I sat opposite Ryan, watching him feed his face. It was like having a black
hole in the kitchen sucking up the food on the table. Eventually I could
not resist but say, "Carefully, you don't eat the plate hippo."

Ryan gave me one of those looks boys are so good at.

"Ok, so what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?" I
enquired. It surprised me a little to see that we were finishing breakfast
at 12.30, but Ryan needed a lot of cuddling!

"Can we go to the bike shop?" he replied with puppy dog eyes full in force.

"Of course, I can't wait to have my new gardener take up his duties."

"I thought you had forgotten about that. Don't you love me any more?" he
said with an artful little smile.

The little beast was teasing me again. I knew he didn't mean it and he knew
that I knew that he didn't mean it.

A little mock rage was caused for. So leaping up I proceeded to chase him
through he house. I finally cornered him in the sitting room and so
grabbing him I sat in the middle of the sofa. Holding him firmly by the
neck I said "Its time for all naughty little hippos to get their bottoms
spanked."

At this he began to squirm like an eel.

The more he struggled the more I held him tight. Eventually I said, "Right
I've had enough now, I'm really going to spank you.  I said this with
surprising force; so much so, that Ryan stopped wriggling and turned his
head to look at me.

He actually thought I was going to punish him! My tone of voice had been
absolutely perfect. I now had to struggle to maintain the act and keep a
straight face.

"A good two dozen should do it. You count them out loud or you might get
more."

He whimpered a little when he said, "Y..Yes Uncle Michael."

I know I was being cruel and heartless; but, I could remember the incident
with the yard brush, plus his last little I don't love you, plus the fact
that I could never resist a good wind up.

"Right, best get started," I said raising my hand.

I could feel his whole body tense up. Then I gave him ever so light a pat
on his round little bum.

As I delivered this mighty blow I felt him relax and he turned around
looking at me like a thundercloud.

"YOU ROTTEN BUGGER!" he shouted as he could see the broad grin on my face.

I could do nothing but laugh whilst he pummelled me.

"Pax, pax, remember I bruise easy," I pleaded with my cute little
tormenter.

His righteous anger eventually subsided. Sitting astride me whilst I lay
upon the sofa he asked, a little out of breath from his exertions "Well
slave, are we going to the bike shop or not?"

"Yes, oh master. Go and get my wallet off the dresser will you whilst I
recover from your harsh beating."

Looking a little smug Ryan trotted off into the kitchen to go and get my
wallet.

Watching him disappear through the door I could not help but appreciate how
lucky I was to have MY boy in my life.

Returning from the kitchen Ryan proceeded to tow me out of the house and
round to the garage and the Jag.

"Forget it, you're not putting a bike in Lizzy. Its Landrover time."

So saying we ended up diving to a retail park on the outskirts of Lincoln
to buy Ryan's new bike.

On entering the "Bike Warehouse" Ryan was at a loss to know where to look
first. The boundless enthusiasm of youth came to the fore and we dashed
down one aisle after another eventually he found the one he wanted. Guess
what? It cost a fortune but what the heck he was worth it.

On reaching the check out proudly wheeling his chosen vehicle I whispered
in his ear, "It looks like it's going to be the garden AND washing the cars
for a year to pay for this."

He looked a little downcast at this so after ruffling his hair I passed
another comment, "Cheer up or I'll have it painted pink."

This brought another punch and a look of utter disgust.

God I loved that boy! His reaction to my teasing was superb.

We left Lincoln to return to the village. Seeing as Ryan was desperate to
ride his bike I dropped him a couple of miles outside and drove home to
wait for him.

Sitting in the kitchen whilst waiting for him to return I picked up the
previously discarded sketchbook and finding a blank spot proceeded to draw
Ryan as he had sat atop me after his mock spanking.

I lost myself in the composition of the sketch and so did not hear Ryan
sneaking into the room behind me. I suddenly found myself wrapped in a
sweaty pair of boy arms. With his chin resting on my shoulder Ryan looked
at my latest study of him.

"Why do you keep drawing me like that? I'm not that good looking."

Without saying a word I picked up the book, turned to a previous sketch and
taking Ryan by the hand lead him to the large mirror in the dining
room. Holding the portrait of him beside his face I said, "Tell me where my
sketch is wrong. That's you my gorgeous little hippo."

Ryan gazed into the mirror his eyes darting between his own face and the
drawing.

"See, my drawings don't lie."

"But why do you want to keep drawing me?" he again asked.

It dawned on me that I was answering his question but not what he was
trying to ask me.

This was it. Do I concoct a little story to hide my real fascination for
him or do I tell him the truth. That was the choice.

Looking at his reflection, the seriousness of his expression told me I must
answer the question he was really asking and I must tell him the truth.

But how to tell him?

If I got this wrong not only would I loose him but more importantly he
would loose the only person who really cared about him.

How do you tell a twelve-year-old boy that you're in love with him?

That was the answer.

Looking at his reflection I simply said "Because I love you with all my
heart."

"Words aren't enough to say how much I need you with me. When I hold you I
don't want to ever let go. It's like a part of me goes with you every time
you leave my side. I don't know if you can possibly realise how much I need
you."

"I think that's what you are to me, too. When you went home the other night
I lay awake thinking how fantastic it felt when you held me. When I fell
off my board I did it deliberately so you would notice me. I knew you were
there but I couldn't just knock on your door, I needed an excuse."

Ryan's voice trailed off as though he was ashamed of what he had just said.

"Why did you need an excuse Ryan?" I softly asked.

"Because adults aren't interested in kids. You don't have time for us, we
just get in the way..."

I could feel another outburst coming on. Obviously he thought his parent's
reaction to him was the norm.

Placing a finger on his lips to stop him speaking I said, "Never, ever
think you need any excuse to come near me. In fact if you don't I'll come
looking for you! Just because your parents are distant, don't make the
mistake of thinking I am!"

The more I saw of Jerry and Nick the more I disliked the way they treated
MY boy. This would have to be resolved!

Once again Ryan wrapped his sweaty arms about me and stood looking up at
me.

For the first time I kissed him on the lips, tasting his essence, feeling
the soft caress of his flesh upon mine. This moment should have been
heralded with a fanfare of angels, a crash of lightening, an eclipse of the
sun. Something of monumental proportions to mark a moment I had dreamed
forever!

This was just a brief brushing of our lips but it sealed us together.

Unable to trust myself with the emotion of the moment I had to fall back on
the old line of defence.

Sniffing the air I passed the comment, "It smells like a fat smelly little
hippo in here. I'd better go and get the jet wash out and give him a good
hosing down."

"Ok Uncle Mikey I get the hint, I'll go and have a shower."

"Will you wash my back for me?" he enquired with that artful little smile."

"Yes of course I'll just go and get the yard brush."

"No, its ok I think I can reach."

So saying he dashed off upstairs and I could hear the deliberate locking of
the door.

How he kept tempting me, like having your own permanent sexy little devil
just waiting, trying to get you to fall into the abyss.

I longed to fall into that abyss but my conscience kept telling me that it
wasn't right and it was not what either of us really needed. I really
wished I could shut it off just for half an hour, but the reality was I
couldn't.

Sighing I looked at the clock. 5.30pm time to feed the boy an early dinner
and then take him home. But home didn't sound right. He lived with his
parents but that was not a home. How could it be with no love or attention?
His home was here with me! It's surprising how these revelations just
appear in your mind. Ryan's home was here with me! But that was an
impossible dream!

After feeding the little gannet we strolled back to his house, I was
surprised and pleased when he held my hand almost all the way there. As we
reached the top of the path he dropped my hand and mooched dejectedly up to
the front door.

Going inside he said a brief hello to his parents and without a backwards
glance slunk off upstairs. Sitting in the living room with his parents we
discussed many inconsequential matters. Eventually Jerry asked, "Did you
have the performance we usually get when there's a storm?"

"What do you mean?" I enquired.

"He usually wants to come in our bed when there's a storm, but we have been
telling him for years that he's too old for that sort of thing and should
grow up."

"He seemed really upset so I let him sleep with me. I couldn't let the poor
kid cry like he was."

"Oh Michael you've always been a soft touch. Its about time the boy grew up
he's been hanging round our necks for long enough." She glanced towards the
stairs and said in a much lower voice, "Between the three of us he's been
nothing but a dead weight, always wanting something. He doesn't seem to
realise how busy we are. I must admit I wish I had never had him. He's
nothing but a tie."

How could a mother speak of her son like that, particularly when he was as
wonderfully as Ryan?

I struggled to maintain an air of neutrality. It wouldn't help anyone if I
alienated these two by telling them what I really thought.

Changing the subject I asked, "Do you still have that ring I gave Ryan at
his christening?"

"It's in my jewellery box I think," said Nick. I never could see why you
gave him that. You might as well have it back its no use to him he would
only loose it"

How I stopped myself from smacking her I don't know.

As she went to fetch the ring Jerry said, "Still we won't have to bother
about him for much longer, he's going to boarding school next term. I don't
know why we didn't think of it sooner. Nick and I are going to be out of
the country for most of this next year. We are expanding the business into
the Far East so we have lots to do. Boarding school should make a man of
the boy."

It was fortunate that Nick returned when she did as it stopped me
responding to Jerry's heartless disposal of his son. My boy.

Taking the ring box from Nick I wished them both goodnight and shouting the
same upstairs to Ryan went out of the front door. When the door had safely
closed behind me I picked up a couple of small stones and tossed them at
Ryan's window.

He rapidly appeared at the window. Even from a distance it was obvious he
had been crying. He looked down and seeing it was me started to shout
something. I quickly shook my head and put a finger to my lips. "Sleep well
smelly boy, see you tomorrow," I quietly said.

"Night Uncle Mikey," He responded with a wave.

Tearing myself away from him I began the short lonely walk home.

I left their house with a feeling of monumental disappointment both for
Ryan and myself, but also for Jerry and Nick. I could not hate them for
their treatment of Ryan. They were unable to comprehend the need he had for
them. But they were unable to experience the true worth of the boy they had
brought into the word.

I must confess the tears I shed waling back to my cottage were for four
people.

In the midst of this I did reach one conclusion. If Ryan were sent to
boarding school it would destroy him. He needed warmth and affection not
the sterility of a public school. Not only that but it would tear my heart
out to see him go.

The obvious solution to the problem was for Ryan to come and live with me,
but how could I accomplish this without Nick and Jerry becoming suspicious
of my motives. No matter how distant a parent or how trusting they are of a
friend they would not comprehend the relationship I had with Ryan.

These thoughts occupied my mind as I went through the nightly routine of
checking doors and windows and preparing myself for bed.

I lay awake for some time considering the predicament both Ryan and I were
in, eventually drifting off to sleep without reaching any firm conclusions.

It was around 3.00am (I remember the church clock had just struck the hour)
when I heard the back door open and close and someone quietly ascend the
stairs.

As I had locked this door I knew it could only be one person entering my
bedroom.

A soft voice whispered my name "Michael."

I don't know why but I pretended to feign sleep.

Again came the whisper, "Michael." Again I ignored it.

Through the gap in the curtains moonlight streamed through illuminating the
room in its silvery glow.

Standing slightly in the shadows a small form began to undress removing
brand new trainers, scruffy t-shirt and shorts. When my nocturnal visitor
removed his boxers I felt a lump rise in my throat.

Through part closed eyes I watched the figure cross the room and lifting
the covers slipped into bed beside me.

After some moments of stillness my nocturnal visitor slid across the bed
towards me, snuggling into my side lightly resting one arm across my chest.

I had to fight to keep my breathing soft and regular so as to give no idea
that I was actually awake.

Again after some moments of stillness I felt the arm lift and a small hand
begin to slide up and down my torso.

The caress of an angel was doing things to my insides that were too
wonderful to contemplate.

After an age of this gentle caress I felt the hand begin to travel lower
down my body. This I was not ready to deal with emotionally or physically
so in one movement I rolled over towards the figure trapping him under my
arm, drawing him in close to me.

Again I heard the soft whisper of my name "Michael." Again I chose to
ignore it and settled down to sleep safe in the knowledge that MY boy was
with me and had chosen to be with me.

The morning came far too soon. Just before the alarm clock rang I felt Ryan
slip from under my arm. He gathered his clothes and slipped out of the
bedroom.

It must have been a half hour later when the alarm clock woke me, having
fallen asleep again. Putting on my dressing gown I went down stairs
expecting to find Ryan there. But he wasn't.

A little surprised, I started to make my breakfast.

Part way through this operation came a knock at the back door and in
breezed Ryan.

"No ones home so I thought I would come and have breakers with you," he
said sitting down at the table.

"Ok," I thought, "so he doesn't think I know where he spent the night."

"Yes oh master, should your slave boil you one egg or two?"

"Two, slave, and be quick about it," he said with a grin.

As we sat eating, discussing nothing in particular I slipped into the
conversation, "Did you sleep well last night?"

He looked just fractionally suspicious but answered, "Yes, fine."

"It's just that I had a really strange dream last night."

"Oh?"

"Yes I dreamed that something slimy and unpleasant slid into bed with me
and started to rub a slimy tentacle up and down my chest. There was this
really unpleasant smell and the creature took up all the bed, pushing me
right onto the edge. It was a really unpleasant experience."

Ryan was looking rather dejected by now.

"You know when I woke up I could still smell that same unpleasant smell. It
reminded me of something and I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Oh," came a rather sad little response.

"Yes, I've got it! I know what the smell reminded me of now. A fat,
unwashed, baby hippo. By the way have you had a shower this morning?"

I sat looking at Ryan with a perfectly strait face. A huge range of
emotions washed over his face: fear, apprehension, disgust, wounded pride
to name but a few.

Eventually he said in a small voice, "You knew! You rotten bugger."

"Of course I did!"

"Are you angry?" he asked apprehensively.

"Sitting room, now!" I said in a stern voice.

Following Ryan through into the other room I could see his shoulders
slump. "I'd better not take this too far," I thought.

Sitting myself in the middle of the sofa I said, "On my knee now." Once
again in my stern voice.

Apprehensively Ryan bent himself over my knee.

"No, on my knee" I said scooping him up and sitting him on my knee.

"How can I cuddle you laid down there?"

By now he realised I was teasing again.

Before he could start punching me again (Yes he did bruise me the day
before) I wrapped my arms around him.

"How could I be angry that you wanted to spend the night with me? Although,
it is usually customary to ask before you get into someone's bed!"

"But you were asleep."

"Was I?" raising one eyebrow in a fair imitation of Roger Moore as 007.

"But .... but," then it sank in that if I had been awake when he came into
my room I had been awake during what had followed.

He started to blush more furiously than he had in the department store.

Laughing I then proceeded to kiss him on the tip of the nose.

"Will you, will you kiss me like you did yesterday?" he asked.

How could anyone refuse such an invitation?

Holding him to me I kissed his soft lips, pressing them to mine.

As this went on I felt his mouth begin to open and the tip of his tongue
slip across my lips. This I was NOT expecting and pulled my head away from
him.

"But I thought, I thought...."

With that Ryan burst into tears and jumping off my knee dashed out of the
room. As I rose to chase him I heard the back door slam.

Shit what had I done? Where had Ryan gone? Could I make things better?



End of chapter the Fourth



Your comments are always welcome.

joshuacaddy@lycos.co.uk