Date: Thu, 22 Jul 2004 23:09:26 +0100
From: Angela Mynah <angela_mynah@msn.com>
Subject: Knight at the Pictures

Love, Respect and Christmas Pudding

Chapter 4   'A Knight at the Pictures'


A short story by Angela Mynah

Angela_mynah@msn.com


This story may refer to cross generational sex of both a homosexual and a
heterosexual nature. It may also imply acts of Incest, bestiality,
necrophilia and cookery.

If this story is illegal in your area or you are offended by such material,
leave now.

This story is fictional. Any similarity between any of the characters
portrayed in this story and any real person, living or dead is however
inevitable. That's just life sweethearts, make the most of it!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

A Knight at the Pictures.

By Angela Mynah


     It was a stand off. The two combatants staring at each other, each
willing the other to make a move, to make a mistake, to show that moment of
weakness that would lead to inevitable defeat. I don't think either of them
had even blinked for minutes. Then one of them spoke.

     " G 7."

     My friend looked at his enemy with eyes flashing with the fire of an
opal, then down to his sheet of paper. A wry smile slowly spread across his
face as he untangled his pencil from the string that held his binoculars. He
marked his paper with a cross and looked up at his adversary.

     "Missed."

     "I can't have missed! That's the only place left where your battleship
could be."

     "You missed it. There's nothing there. G 7 is an empty space. You
missed and that's all there is to it."

     "No way Mr! That shell landed bang in the middle of the only place
left, that was big enough to hold your battleship. It must have hit it. It
had to."

     "It moved."

     "Pardon me?"

     "It moved. My battleship. It moved off. It knew you were going to shell
there so it sailed off somewhere else. Well it would, wouldn't it!"

     "That's cheating! You cant just move things because you think their
going to get hit, that's not allowed."

     "Ahh so you think the captain of the ship would just say to the crew
'Well lads I reckon the next shell should land about here, might as well
stick around and watch it. Cup of tea anybody?' You think that do you,
because I don't. I think he would up anchor and make for anywhere he was
pretty damned sure shells wouldn't land. That's what I think and that's what
I did...   Anyway, how come I haven't hit anything at all of yours, in all
this time? Don't try telling me yours aren't moving too."

     "They're not here yet. They haven't yet made it to the theatre of war,
so to speak."

     "WHAT?...    NOT HERE YET?...   WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'NOT HERE YET'?"

     My astronomer friend stomped over to the crab and tore the paper from
his claw. He looked at it in disbelief.

     "There's nothing here. There are no ships here at all, just crosses
where my shots landed."

     "I thought your shooting was rather hasty! All my ships are at the
naval dockyard in Southampton. I tell you, it takes time to organise a
convoy and get it 'battle ready', I know. Did I ever tell you, I have a
cousin who lives in a naval dockyard? Under just the sorts of ships you
described too, so I know what I'm talking about. You only gave me the paper
an hour ago so they're not here yet."

     The crab was waving his pencil about at the astronomer as he argued.
Sadly he gripped it rather too hard and it snapped in two.

     "Oh bugger. I'm always doing that."

     As the astronomer laughed, I spun round at them both.

     "Oh shut up the pair of you, you're scaring the fish away."

     Prof and the crab looked at each other, then both at me, then at each
other again and shrugged their shoulders. The crab rolled his eyes and
muttered,

     "He gets like this sometimes, Don't worry about it. I think it's the
letter. He really hasn't been himself since he got that letter. It's
worrying him, I can tell. Did I ever tell you one of my cousins got a letter
once, it worried him for weeks."

     "Why? What did it say?"

     "He never knew! That's what worried him. He couldn't read you see, so
he didn't know what the letter was about. Worried the hell out of him it
did."

     "Who sends crabs letters?"

     "Well it wasn't exactly addressed to him, it just sort of drifted down
to him on the outgoing tide. It landed on his dinner so he figured it had to
be important."

     "So how did he know it wasn't addressed to him if he couldn't read? Go
on, answer me that!"

     "A passing bass told him. He said 'That's not for you.' Ate it and swam
off."

     "Hmmm, I wonder who sent it."

     "Readers Digest probably."

     "Yeah, that sounds about right"

     I couldn't believe I was listening to all this, worse I hated to
believe I was imagining it. I had to get the topic back on course. As I was
re-baiting my hook I asked the pair of them,

     "Have you put your minds to my letter? Have you given the matter any
thought at all or have you been too busy playing battleships?"

     Prof looked a bit put out at that comment.

     "Actually old boy, we have thought of nothing other than 'your letter'
since you told us about it. However, it would be helpful if you could humour
us and read it out to us just one more time."

     I took the letter from my pocket and unfolded it. I trembled just a bit
as I did every time I read it.  It had been printed on a computer, so there
was no hand writing analysis to be done

    "Dear Chris,

               I know that you are gay, but you do not know that I am as
well. I am too frightened to tell anyone about me so I'm sure nobody knows.
I am in the year below you at school and think about you all the time. I
can't get you out of my mind and sometimes wonder if you ever think of me.
I know I love you but don't know what to do about it.

               Love   RMR.

     "Well that's it guys, What do you think?"

     Prof scratched his head for a moment and smiled.

     "And tell me again when you received this remarkable letter, no don't
bother, I remember. It was last Tuesday, which, if my memory serves me
correctly, was Saint Valentine's Day. What more would you like to know! You
have had a Valentine card, only it's a letter. Lucky old you! That's what I
say. And from an 'RMR'. How many RMR's do you know?"

     "None."

     "Are you sure?"

     "Yes I checked. I went through all the kids in the year below me and I
couldn't think of one. I even went through the phone book, through all the
R's to check how many kids I knew who's surname started with an R. There
were loads but none who's first name started R."

     "Well he seems to know you." The crab added.

     "Yes I rather worked that part out for myself thank you."

     "Did I tell you, I have a cousin who's initials are RMR?...    His
name's David."

     We both looked at him shaking our heads sadly.

     "What?...     What?...      WHAT?????????"

     He rolled his eyes at us and scrambled sideways back to the edge of the
pier, and with the gentlest of 'plops' went home. Prof looked at me,

     "Sorry about that, it really beggars belief doesn't it! 'David' eh, who
on Gods earth would call their baby crab 'David'?"

     I put the letter down on the bench seat in the shelter, putting a lead
weight on it to stop it blowing away. It would soon be lunch time and Mike
had promised that he and Mercedes would come up the pier to see how I was
getting on, whether I had caught anything. They also promised to bring my
lunch to save me having to carry it. My fishing tackle was heavy enough on
its own.

     It was only a slight surprise when I saw three people walking towards
me. I remembered Mike bitching on at me that he and Murky were going to have
to 'Baby sit' her younger brother.

     Normally the pair of them were more than happy when her parents went
out, normally Mum and Dad took the kid with them, but this time he couldn't
go so the young loving couple were lumbered.

     He seemed like a decent enough kid, twelve years old but not as 'full
of it' as so many are. I had met him several times now but always struggled
to remember his name. He was named after a car but not one of the major
manufacturers. I thought for a while and by some good fortune, the name came
to me just as they did.

     "Hi Mike, Murky. Hello Morgan. How's it going gang?"

     "Badly" Mike muttered under his breath.

     "Its not my fault!"  Morgan whined, "I can't help it if I can't get
into the cinema, Its not my fault I'm twelve and the film is rated fifteen
plus. Anyway Mercy's only fourteen."

     "First, I may only be fourteen but I can get in, as you well know. And
I might add, that it's my business if I do or not. It's not yours. Secondly,
what have I told you about calling me 'Mercy' when we're out? You know
you're the only one allowed to call me that."

     "Go easy on him Murky, it's really quite a nice shortening, better that
than 'Murky' anyway."

     "Oh its not that I mind, it's just that ... Well it's ...   Oh to hell with
it, I guess I'm just in a bad mood. I was looking forwards to that film."

     I looked at little Morgan, He was pouting at the floor and looking
generally miserable. Ok, I admit it, actually he looked really cute, still
there it was, everybody was down in the dumps. Well everybody except me, I
was just hungry!

     "So, what would you like to be doing if you weren't busy screwing up
your sister's and Mike's day" I asked.

     "What you're doing mostly, I like fishing but Mum and Dad won't let me
go on my own, they say there are too many nasties out there. Like the one
who tried it on with you a while back, Did he hurt you?"

     The incident was uncomfortably fresh in my mind, even though, owing to
the drug he used on me, my memory was far from clear about what had
happened. It was true to say I had escaped the attentions of that animal,
largely unscathed. Certainly physically, and pretty much mentally as well.

     Embarrassment was about the worst thing that stuck with me, partly
because I was caught out by him, and partly because most people who knew me,
knew what he had done to me, and that I had been in love with this mythical
boy. I was sure as hell out of the closet now, whether I wanted to be or
not.

     "No kiddo, he never really hurt me, but he could have. He may well have
been planning to hurt me loads. That's what scares me, what he might have
done if he hadn't been stopped."

     "Chris, Can I ask you a favour? Would you look after Morgan and let him
fish with you while Mercy and I go to see the film?"

     One look at Morgan told me he was desperately willing me to say yes,
almost as much as Mike was. Mercedes was looking at Mike wondering what to
do about him just calling her 'Mercy'. The jury was still out on that one! I
decided that agreeing might just get him off the hook, anyway, how bad was
it, the boy was both cute and polite. I agreed.

     WOW, A kiss from Murky, and nearly one from Mike, he stopped himself
just in time. They more 'abandoned' my lunch than 'left' it, but as they
disappeared down the pier before I might change my mind, I started setting
up my spare rod for Morgan. He was very quiet, sitting on the bench.

     He was reading something. A letter, my letter. Hell, I had left my
Valentine letter on the bench and he was sitting next to it, looking down at
it and his face was the deepest blushing pink I had seen in a long time.

     There was no way I could be angry with anything that cute and anyway I
suppose it was my fault for leaving it there.

     "Nosey little sod aren't you! Still, seeing as you've read it now, what
do you think about it?"

     "It's a love letter!"

     "Yes"

     "From a boy."

     "Yes"

     "He's gay and you're gay so he sent you a love letter."

     "Yes, What do you think about that?"

     Morgan shrugged his shoulders and just sat there looking embarrassed.
The long awkward silence that followed was finally broken by Morgan asking,

     "Do you love him?"

     "I don't know, how can I know? I don't know who sent the letter."

     "If you knew who sent the letter, would you love him then, or is him
being twelve too young for you?"

     "Well his being twelve does make things difficult but I was that age
when I was going out with Mike. The problems are mainly legal when we're
both under sixteen. That aside, I can't tell if I would love him if I knew
him, or even if I would like him. If I didn't like him I would feel very
sorry for him. It must be horrible to love someone who doesn't even like
you."

     "So you don't think that age difference matters, you don't think he's
too young."

     "Too young for what there sport?"

     The two of us jumped out of our skins! Neither of us had heard Dave,
'Leisure Marine Protection Services officer and hero of the young' walk up
the pier on his rounds.

     "So come on lads, what's the debate of the day

     "Chris got a love letter from a guy who's a year younger. He's my age.
What should he do about it?"

     Talk about wanting to curl up and disappear! I went bright pink. It
seemed to me that suddenly this polite blushing shy boy was now the circus
ring master. Now he was about as shy as Billy the Kid and about as
dangerous. I was, however, interested in Dave's answer.

     "Whoa down there boy, that's a bit personal to go spreading around and
shouting about quite so freely. I'm not so sure that Chris wants to have
this talked about so casually."

     "Well it's ok now I suppose, now 'Motor Mouth' here has seen fit to air
my problem to the world, I'd value your opinion. Take a look at this."

      As I handed him the letter, Morgan made some comment about needing the
toilet and headed off. Dave took the letter and read it. He read it several
times, sometimes smiling and sometimes just looking puzzled.

     "And you have no idea who RMR is?"

     "Not a clue."

     "Have you asked if young what's-his-name there, can shed any light on
it, the guy must be in his year, maybe in the same class as him."

     No, I haven't asked Morgan, maybe I should. I can't find anyone with
those initials. Either way, what do you think? What should I do?

     "On my word mate, I'm not sure what to tell you. You have some young
lad who has a thing about you. I don't have to tell you to be careful, you
know all about that, but if it's a sounding board you need, then come along
to the hut later this evening or when you pack up fishing. I would suggest
you come alone, I think young Morgan there will be more of a hindrance to
thinking this out rather than a help."

     At last, some sensible advice. Go to the security hut and chat. They
are so welcoming in there and it wouldn't be the first time they helped me
get my head round a problem. Sometimes it helps just hearing myself explain
the problem to someone, that's why I use the Astronomer, 'Prof'.

   Its amazing where time disappears to when I'm fishing. It seemed no more
than half an hour ago that Mike and Murky went to see the film, yet here
they came, arm in arm, walking up the pier in an attempt to extract Morgan
from my company. I have to say that I'd enjoyed fishing with him, he's a
good kid and good company too.

    As they came close Morgan suddenly picked up my letter that had still
been left on the bench. He was blushing again as he handed it to me.

     "Hey, the letter, you don't want them to see that do you! It's private.
You said so!"

     I took the letter and winked at him as I put it in my jacket pocket. He
looked relieved once the letter was put away, very relieved. A nasty thought
started to cross my mind but the facts didn't seem to fit the scenario. I
said nothing about it but mentally filed a note to myself to tread very
carefully.

     "Murky, can I ask you a question?"

     "Chris, you both 'can' and 'may', ask me a question. It would perhaps
have been wiser however, to ask me if I would answer one."

     "Oh ok smartass, you know what I mean. Anyway, What's your Dad's name?"

     "Austin. Oh, and before you ask, my grandfather's name is Morris. I
think it goes even further back than that. I think my great grandfather was
named after a car too. I have an Uncle Chevy as well. It didn't matter, boy
or girl, that side of the family have cars as names. I even have an Aunty
Porsche.

     Now was the time to play my hunch, it was the only way I could think of
to see if my suspicion was right.

     "Morgan, you were pretty lucky! Just think, you could have been
christened Saab or Volvo."

      "He wasn't that lucky! He was actually christened Royce. He is Royce
Morgan Rochester, and I am Mercedes Audi Rochester. I have already decided
that if I have a son he will be 'Aston Martin', or if it's a girl 'Bentley
Daimler'. I like traditions like this, once you get used to it, it's got
style."

     I wasn't really listening. I was looking at the reddest, saddest and
most embarrassed face I had ever seen. Morgan wasn't quite crying but it was
so close. He knew I had found my RMR, and he was terrified at what my next
move was.

     Now, I love to wind people up. I am a born tease but even I could see
that Morgan was distressed, and somehow I had to get so much information to
him without anyone else realising what I was saying. I needed to tell him he
was safe. Suddenly I was looking at him in a completely different light, and
what I really wanted to do was cuddle him. It was Mike who inadvertently
threw the rescue line to me.

     "Hey Chris, What was that you were saying about a Valentines card you
got? Who sent it?"

     "I have no idea! Do you know anybody with the initials HRH?

     The look of relief on Morgan's face was worth a fortune, but he was
still avoiding eye contact. He packed my spare rod away and thanked me, but
the effervescence of his character was gone. I wanted to bring it back so
badly and I knew we needed a good long private chat.

     "Morgan, I will be fishing here again next weekend. If your dad says
it's ok, why don't you join me?"

     You could see the words filtering themselves, and sorting each other
out in his mind as the smile slowly but inexorably started to divide his
head into two. It seemed to go all the way around. It came as no surprise
when he said he would ask his dad and let me know.

     Mike was muttering something about my being a glutton for punishment as
he thanked me for doing the babysitting duties, and I got another nice hug
from Murky. It turns out I had just relieved them of the duty next weekend
too, as long as Austin Rochester was agreeable.

     I watched the three of them walk down the pier and away.

     "Well that wasn't very clever was it?"

     Prof was sitting on the bench again, binoculars dangling from the
string round his neck whilst Crab now sat in his breast pocket peering out
over the top.

     "What do you mean 'not very clever'? I thought I handled it
brilliantly."

      "No you don't, you don't think that at all. You know that you have
just given yourself a problem because you also know you gave the kid
entirely the wrong message. You wanted a chat with him. Instead of that you
invited him out on a date."

     "No I didn't."

     "Well, that's exactly how the lad will have perceived it, and that's
what matters."

     I knew it all along of course. The moment I invited Morgan to come
fishing with me, I had shown him the green light. Now I had to let him down
very gently, there was no way I wanted to hurt the kid. I had been there,
done that, and nearly sent the tee shirt on a one way swim with me in it.

     "You can't do this alone you know, it's too important. You are involved
with the feelings of a very young man while he is at his most volatile stage
in development. This is far too important to get wrong. You must, and I mean
'must' get some help. Get some support."

     "I can't do that. If I did I would have to 'out' him. No there has to
be a way of controlling this without betraying a confidence. I'm sure he
trusts me now, mainly because I didn't say anything when I found out it was
him. Come on Prof, help me here."

     "Not this time, no. Its far too important to sort out by these sorts of
chats. You need a real third party, and it has to be one you trust totally.
What I can do perhaps is to help you work out who and what to ask.

     "Consider perhaps Dave. You are already going to see him about this
anyway, just update him and explain the new problem. He's been a very good
friend to you even in the short time you've known him. He doesn't know the
lad and so can be pretty objective. Don't even think of your parents for
this one, it's one of those extremely rare occasions where they would have a
conflict of interests. They would be more concerned that it's you that's not
hurt.

     "As a general rule of thumb, your parents would be the best people to
seek guidance from, but one of the very few exceptions would be if you are
holding somebody else's wellbeing above that of your own. This would be
unlikely to sit comfortably with them. Their first instinct would be to
remove the problem from you, rather than solve it for the other party."

     "OK I agree that Dave is probably favourite for this, well the whole
team down there and I was going to see them tonight anyway, but that was
before I knew it was Morgan. So what do I ask them? 'Hey guys, how do I get
out of this?' I don't think so. What do I say?"

     "Try telling them the facts. Don't embellish it more than you can help.
Just tell them what all they need to know to be in a position to advise
you."

     Crab peeped out from Prof's breast pocket.

     "Did I tell you? I have a cousin who likes to advise people."

     "Is he any good?"

     "No! Not really, but then nobody much listens to crabs."

     Prof carefully put a piece of old paper in his pocket to make Crab
comfortable saying,

     "Don't worry about it Crab, Nobody much listens to advice where ever it
comes from!"

     I smiled as the two of them faded from my mind while I started to pack
up my fishing tackle. I couldn't help but wonder why I held Dave of the pier
security hut with such high regard when it came to advice. OK he had been
right every time so far but that wasn't it. No, it was something about the
way he was never the first to say anything and always asked if his opinion
was wanted. He never judged anybody, or at least I never heard him do so, he
just sat, thought and then if he had anything to say, he said it. He was the
one to listen to, of that, there was no doubt in my mind.

     I was mildly surprised to see Jessica, my form teacher, sitting on the
bench watching me. She had been in my mind that January night when I had
planned to take the swim.

     "So now do you believe me? I told you that there were quite a few other
gay lads in the school, and now you know!"

     "Ahhh, but is he gay or is that just that phase he's going through?
Everybody seemed to be in a rush to tell me about the 'Phase'. So which is
it to be?"

     "Nobody knows that yet, Not even young Royce himself. I wish he liked
his name, so much nicer than Morgan."

     "Could it just be a crush he has on me, something that will fade in
time?"

     "That is possible, but that again depends on how you treat it. If you
encourage him, his feelings may mature into a deep and meaningful desire for
a permanent relationship. If you stay cool he will get over it, in time."

     "But he'll feel hurt if I cool it."

     "Oh yes, he is going to feel hurt, but that will happen sooner or later
anyway. He is young enough at the moment to recover and quite quickly. The
longer you wait the more painful it will be for him. Its like you and Mike,
you are over that disappointment now, and yet that was only really weeks
ago. You have recovered, and so will he."

     I still didn't like the coldness that would be involved in weaning him
off me. I couldn't face the idea of taking a course of action that would
bring pain and suffering to someone as cute as he was, someone as
vulnerable. I knew just how it could hurt. I walked to the security hut at
the base of the pier.

     "Hiya Guys, are you busy?"

     They put down their playing cards and looked at each other. I went to
the hob and took the kettle to the tap. Filling it I looked at the table and
the stack of money in the middle. A rough count of the cash in front of each
of the players and adding what I guessed to be in the middle I reckoned
there must have been no more than two pounds all in, and four players
fighting for it.  Oh how sad is that!

     They resumed play while I made a pot of tea and two cups of coffee. I
must have watched the game in progress for ten minutes before I realised
that I hadn't the faintest idea how the game was played, it was unlike any
game I had seen before, it didn't even seem to be based on any I knew. Still
when the hand ended Dave had won it and cleared the kitty. The timing was
perfect, I put the tea and coffees on the table, the cards having been
cleared away.

      "So, was that a new boy friend we saw you with today Chris? Looked a
tad young for you."

       "Well that's difficult to answer. I suppose you could say that I'm
his boyfriend, but he's not mine. Somehow I need to tell him that without
hurting him and so far I've made a bit of a balls-up trying."

     I showed the guys the letter. They each read it and thought about it.
They passed it round, some reading it for a second time. When it reached
Dave he winked at me, and read it as though it was the first time he'd
clapped eyes on it. I knew he wanted the others to give their views without
hearing what he had to say. He always liked to be the last one to give out
his mind.

    Steve, was the first to speak,

    "I take it that the young lad you were fishing with is RMR, seems like a
nice kid, what's wrong with just being friends? You don't actually have to
love each other, just be mates."

     "I'm easy with that but I'm not the one sending love letters, he is! I
would like just to be friends, because being anything else complicates my
life as far as Mercedes goes and that affects me and Mike too."

     "So tell him 'No', you are not interested. He gets the blues for an
hour or so then its all over."

     "You reckon just an hour or so do you?"

     "Yep, about an hour, maybe only forty five minutes, hard to tell
really."

     Steve smiled at me. He could tell I disagreed with him without my
opening my mouth. He paused before continuing. Partly, I think, to sort out
in his mind how he was going to explain what he meant but also, partly, to
give me time to get ready to listen.

     "You have fallen into the oldest trap life ever throws at anyone. You
are judging his future emotions based on your past experience of yourself.
Its not like that. The situation is very different.

     "You are stopping a relationship from starting rather than ending an
already existing long term one. You and Mike had been an 'item' for nearly
two years, you and Morgan have had no relationship. You hurt when yours and
Mike's relationship broke up, Morgan will be very disappointed, but not
actually hurt. He will not only get over it but will do so very quickly. You
mark my words."

     I looked to see if anyone else had anything to add but all I saw was
heads nodding quietly in agreement. I sat with my cup of tea. It didn't
really matter what thought processes went rattling through my mind, the one
thing I knew they were right about, along with Jessica, was that the bad
news had to be given to the cutie on Saturday, and it had to be me giving
it.

     Oddly enough I was wrong about that too. Although Sunday was
uneventful, and indeed Monday followed that trend it was Tuesday, when I was
having my lunch in the break area at school that I heard that familiar
little voice from behind me.

     "Are you pissed at me?"

     I turned to see his worried little face, oh God he was cute!

     "No Morgan, I'm not pissed at you at all. The problem is I hardly know
you. That letter you sent was sweet but I don't know you well enough. What I
do know about you I like, but that's as far as it goes. I like you. Can you
be happy with that?"

     "I suppose so...    Can I still come fishing with you on Saturday...
Please?

     "Yes, I would like that. As I said I like you. Did your dad say it was
ok for you to come?"

     "Well sort of, he said he wasn't sure who was looking after who, but we
would be ok as long as we stuck together!"

     I was happy with that, well more than happy really. I had just talked
through the problem that I had been worrying about since Saturday lunchtime
and hardly noticed it disappear. Oh the Prof was going to have a hay day
with me over that.

     Happy goes the week where problems refuse to raise their ugly faces
from the doldrums of life. Before I realised it I was waking up on Saturday
morning. Not only was I going fishing (always a good thing) but I was to
have company too. Further, to top up the deal, Murky and Mike were bringing
not only our lunch to the pier when they brought Morgan, they had promised
to supply enough bait to last the two of us the whole day. This was a
promise made out of gratitude for my releasing the two of them from the
day's child minding duties.

     There are some days where the fish almost queue up to get on the hook.
Days where it doesn't matter what bait you use, the fish love it. This was
not one of those days. Its only saving grace was that the weather was
beautiful. March had just told February to go to hell, and was letting the
first rays of warmth tickle the waves.

     Morgan and I sat in the shelter, discussing life in general and gay
life in particular. We only stopped when a god walked passed. He was
freckled and his hair was tending towards ginger. His greenish brown eyes
had a depth to challenge Leonardo da Vinci himself. I knew him to be in my
year but knew nothing else about him. I wondered if I was wrong but he
looked for all the world like he'd been crying.

     "Hey guys, caught anything?"

     "Na, pretty dead really."

     "Yeah, I know the feeling!"

     With that he gave a weak smile and walked to the end of the pier. I
leaned over to Morgan, asking softly,

     "Who's that? Do you know his name?"

     Morgan whispered back to me,

     "That's Caine Foster, all the girls in my class have got 'the hots' for
him. Nice isn't he."

      There are times when time itself slows down. We both watched as Caine,
so slowly it seemed, put an envelope on the deck weighted down with a stone.
As he looked at us, I saw the tears freely streaming down his face. He made
no attempt to hide them. His weak smile had vanished, to be replaced with a
look of guilt ridden despair. His mouth hung open dribbling slightly. He
didn't care. He no longer cared about anything, or for anything, and I knew
what he was going to do.

     It was as if I was glued to the bench. I couldn't move as I watched the
wretched soul slowly clamber over the railings. As he threw himself into the
sea he screamed.

     "YOU BASTARD"

     Then came the splash. Thank god for the splash, it woke me from this
nightmare slapping my face with the reality of the occasion.
I turned to the boarding inside the shelter and faced a picture poster of a
clown. I shouted at the camera I knew to be concealed within it,

     "MAN OVERBOARD,,,   MAN OVERBOARD,,,   MAN OVERBOARD"

     I prayed they had the volume turned down rather than off as I threw off
my tee shirt. While I kicked my trainers off, I shouted to Morgan,

     "Stay here and keep looking at us and pointing at us. Don't let us out
of your sight. Point us out when help comes."

     As I shot my jeans off, my briefs slid down with them, so I was totally
naked as I climbed the railings and dived into the grey unsurprisingly cold
sea.

     God it was cold. It sucked the very air from my lungs, stabbing at my
body like a thousand icicles. The spring sun had hardly started to warm the
water. I knew at once that Caine was not the only person in danger right
now, but where was he?

     I took a deep breath and dived under. I couldn't believe it, I saw him
at once. The water wasn't very deep round the pier head, I already knew
that, but there he was, seemingly lying in his back on the bottom looking up
at me. OH the idiot, he was wearing his jacket and it was loaded with
weights, stones or something.

     He seemed to start struggling as if he had changed his mind as I
reached him. I had his jacket off him so quickly, it surprised even me.
Taking another guys clothes off, whether he wanted them off or not was
something I had practiced on Mike many times. It is next to impossible to
swim clothed so in moments, Caine was stripped down to his underpants. I
held him firmly to my chest as we rose to the surface.

     I shook my face looking about, trying to get my bearings. My head was
hurting now with the cold. In reality the temperature of the water was not
that far above freezing. I guessed it was four or maybe five degrees above.
The tide was ripping through and I saw the pier was about fifty yards away
already.   Fifty yards, it could be fifty miles for all the difference it
made, I was already too cold to swim. I had to concentrate all my thoughts
to holding Caine and keeping us both afloat. I could make out Morgan was
both looking and pointing to us, just as I had asked him to. He also seemed
to be shouting something, but I couldn't hear what.

     I was starting to shiver uncontrollably now. I was still holding Caine,
he seemed to be totally unresponsive. As I shivered I closed my eyes against
the salt. That was better, I stayed like that for a short while then I
started to relax.

     It seemed to take less effort to keep afloat now. I relaxed a little
more. That's when I felt Caine slide from my grasp. I couldn't do anything
about it.

    It was as if I had lost the use of my limbs I let him go, to slide
quietly into the beckoning depths. I stopped swimming and felt the icy water
embrace my face. I felt myself sinking. I no longer cared. I was no longer
frightened either. My mind seemed to be saying goodbye to my body. I thought
I felt some seaweed. It stung as it brushed against my cheeks. I let it
sting.

    It stung even more, then the strangest thing. As it was stinging, it
spoke to me. It spoke in a soft antipodean's accent.

    "Oh no you don't. Uncle Neptune isn't taking my stupid little pommie
streaker for himself just yet."

     I felt another slap to my face as I opened my eyes. Dave has about the
most welcoming face I have ever known. I felt my stomach hitch and Dave
pushed my head to one side as I threw up sea water onto the decking of the
inflatable lifeboat. I heard the engines as they burst into life, speeding
the boat shoreward.

     There was a blanket over me but I still shivered. With my head turned,
I could see another blanket. It had been laid over someone else. There was a
mound underneath it that I could see. I knew what it meant when a body was
covered like that. It meant that, amongst other things, I had failed. I had
done my best, I really had. That was my best shot at saving someone but it
was a shot poorly aimed. It was partly the sea water and partly a sense of
shame and loss that had me reaching again.

     Some watery vomit spluttered out and onto the blanket covering Caine's
body. I heard a voice shriek "Ewww",  and the blanket shot a short way away.
I looked at where I had thought Caine's head should have been and saw ten
delightful little toes, wriggling slightly just visible where the blanket
didn't quite cover them.

     I looked at the other end of the blanket to see two brownish green
eyes, wide open  and looking at me like I was some sort of Icon. I couldn't
talk I hadn't got any words to say. I looked at Dave just as he suddenly
held both Caine and me firmly down as the Lifeboat beached.

     I don't really know why I lost consciousness but the last thing that
went through my mind was that this was the second time in a very short
period that Dave had carried me, naked but for a blanket, to a waiting
ambulance.

     It was dark. I could hear voices, but it was dark. Several voices now
and bits of my mind were linking up the data my senses were sending it.
Unknown voices, uncomfortable bed and a smell of disinfectant. Hmmm, I think
I know where I am.

     I remembered the ambulance. Yup, I know where I am. I turned my head to
one side. A window to a corridor, a door and a bedside table. I turned to
the other side. A window to the outside world, another bed and from that bed
two brownish green eyes, still wide open, still looking at me and still
gorgeous.  He spoke softly. His voice was a perfect match to his beauty.

     "Oh you woke up! Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Are you feeling
alright?"

     "I'm fine,,,   I think,,,   but what about you?...   What's wrong?...
Why did you do it?   You can tell me, I have been there, got the tee-shirt
and all that."

     "I can't tell you, I can't tell anyone. I've messed up super big time
and I can't tell even my best friend. You don't know what its like, you
don't understand, no one does, no one can."

     "Whoa there pal! Before you tell me I can't know what you're feeling,
I've got to say, I stood at the end of that pier myself. I looked at that
water and I was going to do exactly what you did."

     "What stopped you?"

     "A friend talked me out of it."

     "You're that gay kid in my year, I recognise you now! You're the Gay
boy in Jessica Conley's class. Weren't you the one that got himself abducted
by the pervy priest?"

     "Yes. Yes and Yes! So now you know that I'm the gay boy, does that help
you talk to me or does that mean you won't talk to me about anything?"

     That seemed to floor Caine! I could tell he wanted to carry on chatting
but I could also see some sort of fight going on inside his head. It was as
if he was frightened that if he talked to me or got to know me, he would
'catch' being gay.

     "Ok, let me try this one on you. Am I correct in my guess that you are
not gay"

     The silence was deafening. This struck me as odd. If he were gay he may
or may not admit it, but if he were straight, he would have said so
immediately. I was starting to think I was wrong. I was starting to think
that he was gay when he said in a shaky voice,

     "I don't know what I am. I don't even think it matters what I think any
more. Soon everybody will know what I am and they'll soon tell me. They'll
tell me I'm a pervert, that's for sure. They'll tell me I'm filth and that
I'm gay and that I'm not worth anything. They'll tell me all that. Oh, and
they'll tell me something else too, they'll tell me that I'm stupid. That I
am really so stupid I couldn't even kill myself to hide it"

     As Caine buried his face in his pillows to muffle his sobs I looked at
his shaking wreck of a body. Never in my life had I seen anything so totally
destroyed as that boy was there and then. I hardly dared try to imagine what
his problem was but even thinking back to when I was ready to finish it all,
I was not in the state he was in right now.

     The night nurse walked in the room. She had heard Caine as his sobbing
had become louder. She was a lovely woman, not so much pretty but more
motherly. Obviously she knew the reason we were both in the ward and that
Caine had attempted to take his own life. She had never been far away. She
took Caine's quivering body to her and rocked it gently, talking to him as
she did. I couldn't hear what she was saying but what ever it was it seemed
to be working.

     Slowly, ever so slowly, Caine calmed down. I could hear in his sobs he
was repeating the same phrase over and over,

     "He promised me,...    he promised me,...    he promised me."

     The nurse gave him a pill and almost immediately as his eyes closed his
breathing became more regular and the blessing of sleep engulfed him. She
laid him back onto his pillow, stroked the hair away from his eyes and
smiled at him. She looked over to me.

     "Hmmm so you're awake too are you? I can see I'm in for a restless
night! Maybe I should give you one of these 'Let nursey sleep' pills. They
are very good for me. All I do is get you to take one, and I get better!"

     What a smile that woman had! I fell in love, well in my own way I did.
She sat by me and gently talked about nothing in particular. It was too soon
that I was missing what she was saying. I too had gone to dreamland in the
world of Nod.

     It was a very embarrassed Caine that greeted me in the morning, but I
was so pleased to see him I hardly noticed. We chatted about this and that,
both skirting the real issues, and only reduced to silence when the medico's
came in to do those things medico's do. Our blood pressures were fine as
were our reflexes. We had four eyes between us and the count of lungs was
similarly appropriate for the two of us.

     Concern was tut tutted about the small amount of sea water still
sloshing about inside us,  but we were declared to be "As well as could be
expected and Comfortable" Soon fit to be returned to the wild after a period
of observation.

     A different doctor came in and chatted to Caine for about half an hour.
I wasn't sent out but could tell that this new guy was a head-case doctor. I
reckoned that I was allowed to stay to keep Caine calm, keep things as
normal as possible. The questions were hardly deep or searching, yet the
answers they elicited seemed to say that Caine was hiding something. I
wondered what chance I would have of finding out just what that something
was.

     What happened next told me that it would be a while before I would be
able to ask Caine anything. Visiting time was upon us. The bedside rule was
'no more than two visitors per bed at any time. I had six, Caine had three.

     Mum and dad came, of course, as did Murky and Mike. They brought Morgan
with them and my group was topped off by Dave from the pier. Caine had his
mum and dad, and some other guy, Caine's next door neighbour.

     Before I was allowed to say anything to anybody, Morgan was telling
everybody how Caine had Fallen off the pier and how I had 'heroically' dived
in and saved him, and how he had (even more heroically) held his ground and,
ignoring all dangers, kept pointing at me.

     It has to be said that I knew that by doing that, Morgan had indeed
saved both of our lives, but I couldn't help but wonder about the 'Dangers'
he had faced. Then it dawned on me. Everybody was saying Caine 'fell' in the
sea, he was even being ticked off by his mum for being careless. I looked at
Dave and he winked at me. I knew to keep quiet and enjoy the attention.

     It's lovely to receive visitors when you are laid up in hospital, but
its even nicer to say goodbye to them at the end. There is a limit to the
number of times you can reasonably be asked how you feel. Dave was magic, he
kept the conversation going at both beds.

     It was while Caine's parents were saying 'thank you' to me I noticed
that his neighbour was talking to him but looking at me. I made nothing of
it, but I wasn't too comfortable with the look.

     All the visitors left together, leaving the two of us, almost being
crushed under the weight of grapes and cherries, not to mention the small
rain forest that must have been sacrificed to provide all the get well soon
cards. There would be another 'Visiting session' early this evening, I hoped
that fruit might just give way to chocolate, but I was far from confident.

     Peace had been restored to our haven, and I started wondering how to
find out what Caine's real problem was. I couldn't think how to open up the
subject. I was pondering this when he spoke,

     "Can I talk to you? I owe you my life I suppose, and I want you to know
why. I don't know, maybe you can save me again."

     "Yes. Please tell me! I honestly do want to know because its what took
you to do what I stopped myself doing months back. And if I can help you, I
really want to."

     "There might be several ways you can help, it depends what things you
like. You're gay. Do you like looking at pictures of naked men?

     "No. Yes I am gay, but no I don't much like seeing naked men. I like my
own age."

     "Do you ever look at pictures of naked boys your own age then?"

     "No I don't do that either. Those pics are illegal, even to download,
even if the pics are legal where they were taken they are illegal here, so
no I don't."

     "Would you like to see some, well lots really, I have a few hundred
pictures of boys our age."

     "What the hell are you doing with those? Haven't you got any idea how
much trouble you would be in if the law found out you had those."

     "I'm in that much trouble anyway, and I'm going to be in more soon."

      I looked at those deep eyes. They were looking straight into mine.
Caine was holding it together but it was a close call. He was very close to
breaking down. Then I saw the resolve pouring into him. He swallowed hard
and asked,

     "If you come round to my house I will show you all the pictures I have.
There are quite a lot of me too, as well as some of the other boys in our
school. I will even take my clothes off in front of you if you like, or even
let you undress me. Would you like that?"

     "Whoa there friend, Yes of course I'd like that, but why? Are you gay?
What's the catch? Is there one?"

     "Well there is sort of one yes. You must let me have pictures of you,
to add to my collection."

     "NO WAY MISTER!"

     "You haven't heard the other part, the other thing that you have to
do."

     "What's that?"

     "You have to let Mr Grace, my next door neighbour be the photographer.
He'll take pictures of you and me doing things."

     "Why?...   Why on Gods earth should I let your neighbour take pictures
of you and me doing things?"

     "Ahhh, that's the clever bit. If I can't get you to agree to this, Mr
Grace will release all the pics he has of me, onto the internet. If you
still disagree, he will release all the pics he has of my friends onto the
same internet site, and if you still say no to me, he will then release all
the pictures he has of me and my friends doing things with each other."

     "He wouldn't dare!"

     "I thought that and last week I told him so. He went back home and he
released twenty pictures he'd forced me to take of my brother, and he's only
nine years old. They'll spread over the net like wildfire. Yesterday he
released five of me. Today he saw you here and gave me my orders. He wants
pictures of you, or I get the treatment. So now you know. Now you know why I
thought it would be a good idea if I was dead. What do you say to that?"

     "You don't really expect me to go along with this do you? You don't
really think I'm going to let that perv take the pictures do you?"

     "No, I didn't think you would, but that's the position, and I don't
know what to do. Is there any way I can get those pictures back?"

     "No way whatsoever. Once you let a picture of yourself go out on the
net, or even just let someone else have a picture of you, on their computer,
you have lost all control of it forever. That picture can pop up anytime
anywhere. You will never know who else has a copy of it on their computer.

     "Never ever let a picture of yourself go out unless you don't mind the
whole world having a copy of it. You have no control of it at all."

     The resigned look on his face told me he already knew this. He had, I
suppose, hoped for a miracle, but I failed to deliver. Or had I. Odd
thoughts were drifting about my mind but none of them hooked up to any of
the others. I needed to sort them out. I needed that sounding board.

     Mr Wrough came into our room. He was the psychiatrist or whatever  who
had come in just before visiting. This time he took Caine away to another
room to chat to him. Murky had brought in her laptop and lent it to me. It
had a cordless modem system on it, linked to her mobile phone account. My
dad had promised to pay her bill if I used it, a promise that he thought
would cost him dearly.

     I wrote Dave a detailed e-mail explaining the confidences I was
breaking and the plans I had in mind as a resolution. Typing it all out
everything came together. I was setting up a sting, and starting to enjoy
it. The trick was going to be getting Caine's neighbour to swallow the bait.
I completed the e-mail, but didn't send it. I saved it to draft instead. I
saved one or two other draft e-mails too. One to Morgan, telling him no more
than he needed to know, but asking him some favours. One to Murky as a sort
of security measure.

     I saved all my work and put the laptop away. I had a visitor sitting
quietly on the bedside chair. I hadn't noticed him arrive.

     "Oh hello, sorry about that, I didn't see you. How are you? How are
your legs?"

     "Ahhh yesss hmmm yesss my legs hmmm yesss. As you can see they are all
very much better, as is my head. I have decided to remain a bachelor so that
sorts out and solves any prospect of any future wife eating me."

     Spider sat in the middle of the chair rubbing his chin thoughtfully,

     "So how much of this splendid plan do you intent to enlighten Caine
with ehhh hmmm ehhh?"

     "As little as possible. I see no reason to embroil him into this any
further than is absolutely necessary"

     "Hmmm. Yesss Hmmm. I don't agree!!! You are going to need to tell Caine
everything if this plan is to proceed.  Not to do so will have him at risk
of being found to be, or at least suspected of being, party to the
paedophile's deception and blackmail, whilst involvement puts him fairly and
squarely in the correct camp. Do you see what I mean?"

     As I thought about this, Nursey came in with a magazine for me to read.
My eyes were focused on the ceiling thinking about what Spider had said when
I once again heard the unmistakable swatting sound, followed by a small
fading voice saying,

     "Hmmm yesss, Bugger!"

     I took the magazine from Nursey, thanking her as I wiped my friend from
the back cover. The magazine was Richard Attenborough's 'Life on Earth'. I
thought to myself 'Spider would have wanted that' only to hear a distant
voice call out "No I bloody wouldn't"

     Mr Wrough came back into the room with Caine just ahead of him. One
glance told me that Caine had said nothing to Wrough, and that Wrough was
wearing that 'Well we'll just have to be patient' look about him. I thought
about what Spider had said and agreed with it. As soon as Wrough's back had
left the room I told Caine my plan and showed him the e-mails I planned to
send.

     He looked at me with the same look that I had seen in the lifeboat.

     "You would do that for me? You really would? I could never repay you,
ever. I already owe you everything I have."

     "Never mind 'owing' me, if you agree, I send the mails and you sit back
and play your part. What might help though, is if I knew exactly how you got
into this mess in the first place. How did Grace get this hold on you?"

     "Oh it was gradual. First, about eight months ago, he saw me kiss my
friend, we were messing about. My mate liked it more than I did but we
kissed and Barry, Mr Grace, saw us. My dad hates gays, he's always going on
about them, and Barry knows that.

     "I do odd jobs for Barry and when I was in his house he told me he had
seen us. He offered me a deal. He said he liked seeing boys with nothing on,
and if I were to undress in front of him just once, he would forget all
about what he had seen. I agreed and took my clothes off. That seemed to be
the end of it.

     "A couple of weeks later he asked me to do it again. He didn't threaten
or anything he just asked. Well, I had done it once so I did it again. Then
he asked if I would go in to his house one day straight after school, still
in my uniform. I said I would. He was still being nice about it all, and it
wasn't too bad.

     "This time though, he undressed me, and he played around a bit. I
didn't like that much. We were going on holiday for two weeks soon and Barry
asked me if he could take some pics of me, just for his own use, just till I
came back. He also said he wouldn't touch me again unless I said I didn't
mind. I let him take some pictures. He had bought a digital camera, and he
took about twenty pics with it.

     I listened to this story as it unfolded and thought back to my
'Unfrocked Priest' I knew how plausible these excuses could be. I let Caine
continue.

     "When we came back from holiday, Barry told me that he used my pics
every night to relieve himself by, but that it would be so much nicer if he
had more of them to choose from. He offered me twenty pounds for the
mornings posing plus twenty five pence for each shot he kept. He ended up
with nearly a hundred photos of me. After that it was no more Mr Nice Guy
from him.

     "The first threat was that if I didn't get some pictures of my brother
Leo for him, he would hack into my schools website and post the ones he had
of me there, for all to see. I had a game of dare with Leo and I won. I got
the photos. I felt like a treacherous shit, but what could I do.

     "Then came the demands of pictures of my school friends. Again by
tricking and begging I managed to get some pics of them. Now he is
threatening to release all the pics of my friends on a website he has built.
The site is called Caine Fosters Gallery. It is all about me. Its done to
look like my own site but it has a section in it called 'My Friends'

     "So now you know. He has me just where he wants me and there's fuck all
I can do about it. If you are prepared to help me, and manage to get me out
of this mess, I am yours to do with as you like for ever."

     I did something I wanted to do, but was unsure how it would be taken, I
went to his bed and kissed him, twice. Like the friend in his story, I could
tell I got more enjoyment from it than he did, much more enjoyment, but he
didn't complain, he never wavered.

     "You realise that if we do this, and it fails, everyone will know about
you."

     "Yes, they might even work it out if we succeed, but it's the only
chance I have. Things are just getting worse as time goes on. I have to do
something, and I stand more chance with your help. What do you want me to
do."

     "Well for now, just sit back and enjoy the ride. When your Barry guy
asks you to provide things, just tell him that it won't be easy. You can use
this time to find out exactly how much damage he has done so far. He will be
offering you quite a lot if I don't miss my guess."

     I sent all the e-mails I had prepared, confident in the people I had
selected playing their part. It was two hours to visiting time and whilst
Caine was certain that Barry would be there, I was not so sure. It wasn't
vital that he came, but it would have got the ball rolling much quicker if
he did.

     At six in the evening, the doors opened and in strolled our visitors. I
had only four this time, Mum and Dad had sent the message that they would
pick me up and take me home at eleven the following morning. There was
little point in their coming this evening as I already had over the limit of
visitors. This was a really handy coincidence as they were the only two
people who might have visited me who were unaware of the brewing trouble.

     Caine's visitors were totally oblivious to our plans. Mr and Mrs Foster
were still smothering Caine while Barry was looking at everyone around. He
was interested in me, I could tell that, and he showed a distinct bulge when
he saw Morgan. It was plain to see that Mike was older than this mans
tastes, and Mercedes was the wrong gender.

     Dave was watching everything that was going on, without seeming to do
so. The one and only thing that he had in common with Barry was that they
were both doing taxi service. Mrs Foster didn't drive and Mr Foster has
temporarily lost his license, owing to his inability to take notice of
either speed limits or speed cameras.

     As time went on Dave said he was going to have to go earlier, but would
come back and pick everybody up. Meantime he wanted a cup of tea. He
wandered off and Mike went with him, Mercedes followed, leaving me with
Morgan.

     Morgan, cool as you like, pulled the curtain round my bed. He whispered
in my ear whilst he handed me a screwed up piece of paper. I read it.

     "Chris,   Keep setting the scene by all means but don't go too far and
be careful. Don't take any action till we have seen each other in the pier
office. I say again, be careful. Dave."

     I hardly had time to finish reading it when Morgan started kissing me.
His tongue went straight into my mouth and where his hand went, well lets
just say I hadn't expected that!

     I was thinking I might just cool him down a tiny bit when I sensed the
smallest movement of the curtain. My embrace of Morgan pulled him to me and
our tongues wrestled. I could see out of the corner of my eye that we were
being watched.

    Suddenly Barry backed off from the curtain as we all heard the door
open. Nursey walked in on the two of us but all she witnessed was a cuddle
going on. The bait was perfect, and Barry had bitten.

     "What the hell were you two up to behind the curtain?"

     Caine's face was a picture. All our visitors had left and Barry had had
a smile a mile and a half wide as he looked at me when he went out of the
door.  Morgan had left a minute or two earlier, making sure he wasn't going
to run into Barry elsewhere in the building. He had shot into Dave's waiting
Ford before Barry had even noticed the lads absence.

     "Barry was trembling like a leaf after he'd spied on you two. What were
you doing?"

     "Oh nothing too much. Morgan had his tongue in my mouth and his hand
inside my pyjama pants, I was stroking my hand on his buns, inside his
pants. That's all."

     I watched as Caine's hand felt himself without his thinking about it.
Quietly I wished it was my hand there but I didn't want to make a move on
him in case he was willing out of a sense of gratitude. That wasn't the way
I wanted him, but I was now quite sure I did want him. I still hadn't worked
out how his orientation lay. The only thing I was reasonably sure about was
that he wasn't exactly straight.

     I saw his eyes leave mine and look to the door behind me. I turned and
saw Barry had returned. He had made some excuse about finding out when he
got home that his wallet was missing. He looked all about then asked me if I
would check in the toilets down the corridor, saying that he would look
there himself but as it was now outside visiting hours, he was worried about
walking in on some lad in the bath or something.

     I knew I was being got rid of, and was only too keen to oblige. I went
to the toilets as requested, there was of course nothing there, but I had a
nice chat with Nursey who was at her station. We chatted a bit and she was
asking one or two questions about Morgan and me. I told her we were close
friends, very close friends, and added that we were both homosexual and were
very supportive of each other, but that we were not lovers. It occurred to
me that she may have to repeat that in court, so I made sure she would
remember the conversation. I told her I thought I was Bisexual and gave her
a lovely quick kiss.

     She nearly laughed the roof down, she was after all, older than my
mother. As I turned to leave, she caught me a grade one smack on my pyjama
covered backside. I was still giggling as I went back into our room. The
chat was still going on and I could see that Barry's hand was under the
bedclothes. He withdrew it thinking I hadn't noticed anything, and saying
good bye, he kissed Caine on the lips. As he left, he winked at me. Shit he
was a revolting creep. I was going to enjoy seeing him fall.

     "Well, how did it go? My guess is that he wants you to try to arrange
Morgan and me into a sex session that he both photographs and joins in. Am I
right?

     "Close enough, he wants to video it rather than photograph it and he
wants me to be in it too."

     "What did he do? Did he threaten you with something if you fail or
offer something if you succeed?

     "Both. If I succeed, he will delete all the pics he has of my friends
but if I fail he opens the web site to the public."

     "And what do you think will happen if you succeed?"

     "I think he will keep all the pictures he has and make even more
demands. But what happens now?"

     "Well the next step is to pull him along a bit. Tell him that I said
'No way' but that you think, if you had something you could offer me, you
might be able to get me to change my mind. That buys time. However, this is
the end of Morgan's involvement. He's too young to get deeper involvement in
this, especially if it gets nasty, and it easily could."

     I was a major distraction at school the following week when the local
papers were full, running the story of the 'Brave rescue by local boy at
pier head' Everybody wanted to shake my hand and there were loads of people
congratulating me. Morgan was like he was welded to me. Reflected glory
heaped upon him.

     The disaster of it was that he chose that opportunity to 'come out' and
as every body knew I was gay, the famous 'two and two' were put together and
five was the answer most came up with. Morgan and I became thought of as an
item. Something that Austin Rochester was less than entirely happy with.

     Even I saw the irony as I explained to Mr Rochester that it was quite
likely to be just a phase that Morgan was going through. I assured Mr
Rochester that I would do all in my power to ensure that Morgan wasn't going
to get hurt when the 'relationship' evolved into its natural status of 'just
very good friends'.

     He accepted this mainly, I think, because of the relationship I had had
with Mike, and how that had changed into the one I was having with him now.
What nobody saw was the one I was trying to develop with Caine. Not even
Caine knew about that one.

     That evening I read my e-mails. There was a desperate one from Caine,

     "Chris,    Barry is going ape. He has told me to offer you and Morgan
five hundred pounds between you, to do the video. He has told me he needs an
answer by five this evening, or he releases pics. What do I do?   Caine.

     I replied that he should tell Barry that I have agreed to it, but
Morgan has not, he won't do it for any money. See what Barry wants to do
next. Also to tell Barry that if he releases pictures onto the net, neither
of us would do anything for him, ever again.

     They say 'Time flies when your having fun'. It bloody flies when your
busy trying to fit someone up too! It was Saturday and I was in my usual
position at the pier head. This time I was not alone. Morgan was now pretty
much a fixture now. One I had grown very attached to.

     The problem was that I wanted to think some things out, preferably with
Prof and Crab, but I could hardly do so in Morgan's company. Whilst the
silence was far from awkward, when it was broken, it was Morgan who started.
I was dumbfounded.

     "I want to help. Now I know everything that Caine's neighbour is doing,
I want to help."

     "That's very kind of you and very brave, but you don't know half what
that man is doing. You may think you do, but you really don't."

     "I do know, I know everything about it!"

     "Oh yes? Just how do you know? Better still, What do you know?"

          I watched his eyes as he looked straight into mine. I knew that he
was aware of something being afoot, I had told him just a little to get him
to make a move on me at the hospital. I figured he had perhaps had a wild
guess at a bit more. I was curious to find out how far out his best guess
was going to be.

     His eyes narrowed slightly as he started to tell me what he knew.

     "Caine's next door neighbour has been taking pictures of Caine with no
clothes on. He has tricked Caine into taking photos of his brother, also
with no clothes on. He has also tricked Caine into taking pictures of some
of his friends naked too. Now he has started blackmailing Caine into letting
him do things with Caine's body.

     "At the hospital, he saw you and me kissing and stuff, the things you
asked me to do. He saw that and now he wants to take pictures of us doing it
all for real . He wants to video us playing sex things with each other. He
has offered you and me five hundred pounds to do it and if we refuse he will
send all the nude boy pics he has onto the internet.

     "He wants Caine to join in and my guess is that he will want to join in
too. If any of us refuses he will threaten to send more pics to the internet
site he built, pretending it is Caine's site.

     "You are going to set him up so that he gets busted and I want to help.
I am prepared to do whatever the man asks me to do, and be photographed
doing it as long as we destroy the pics before they get on the computer and
after he is busted.

     "Now, go tell me I am wrong. Go tell me I don't understand or even go
tell me I'm making it all up. You can go tell me anything, but we both know
the truth."

     I looked at him. I hadn't a clue what to say. I hoped he was going to
carry on talking just to give me time to think but no. No such luck. Morgan
may only be twelve years old but he knew exactly what he was doing. He was
silent. Waiting for a reply. Waiting for me to confirm what he had said
knowing that my failure to do so was as good as an admission.

     That's the problem when you treat a kid as a child, they go and say or
do something so maturely that it throws you completely. I had to answer him
and think this through as I did.

     "How the fucking hell did you find all that out.?"

     "I have ways! I will tell you about them someday but for now, I want to
help. Please let me."

     "Ok. I will let you help but not the way you said, I don't want any
photographs of either of us, especially in the hands of that creep."

     Morgan gave a knowing smile.

     "I'm happy with that, maybe we can offer him something else."

     "I'm listening, what are you thinking?"

     Listening to a twelve year old, detail a plan so complex in its twists
and turns as to make Agatha Christie herself wish she had dreamed it up, was
about as unnerving as anything I had ever done. When he was finished I had
to admit that he had forgotten nothing, well nothing that I could think of.

     There were weaknessess in the plan but they were all in the setting up
of the sting. If everybody agreed and did their bit, then should the plan
fail, embarrassment was the highest price we stood to pay.

     "Ok Morgan, Problem number one. How do you think we can get Dave to
play ball. He is aware that Caine and I am cooking something up, but I doubt
he will help when he finds out you are involved."

     "Ask him yourself, he's coming up the pier now."

     Sure enough my Australian friend was strolling gently up the pier. I
reckoned he was still five minutes away though, so I asked Morgan the one
thing that was still bothering me.

     "So come on, spill the beans! Who told you about what was going on?"

     "You did. Sorry. When you gave Mercy back her laptop, she lent it to
me. You had left loads of stuff on it, including all the mails you sent. And
your passwords were left on auto fill. I was getting all your e-mail same
time you were. I know I shouldn't have read them but I couldn't resist it. I
suppose you are really pissed at me now."

     Pissed at him or what! I wanted to throttle the bloody life out of him.
Then other things started to dawn on me, other e-mails I had sent to other
people. Oh my God! He knew my feelings towards him and towards Caine. He
knew that although I liked him I didn't have deeper feelings for him than
that. He also knew that I was falling in love with Caine. Yet he still
wanted to help. He wanted to help get Caine and me together.

     "No, I'm not pissed at you. I was for a moment but not now. I suppose
you might even know some things that I don't. Do you? Do you know anything
you think I might like to know?"

     "Yes, sorry but yes I do. That plan I told you about, I didn't think it
up. Your friend Dave did, or I suppose we both did. That's what he has come
to talk about, that's how I know he will agree to do it, go through with it.
It will be safe with him doing his part"

     "Well young wallaby, have you told my pommie streaker the plan we
cooked up in the hut yesterday?"

     "Yes, he's just thinking about it now?"

     "Well Chris, it's a damned site safer than the one you were thinking
about, and as such I am happy to help. It's more straight forwards too.
Always remember, keep it simple."

     "Simple? Simple? If you call that plan simple I hate to think what you
think of as complicated!"

     We both looked at Morgan, both of us looking just a little confused.
Morgan just looked embarrassed.

     "Sorry Dave, I suppose I kinda souped up the description a bit, made it
sound a bit more dramatic."

     Dave rolled his eyes and grinned as he outlined the plan as he had
meant it to be described. It sounded painfully simple this time. Morgan's
`plan' had been the same but with more James Bond Gadgets and plastic
explosives, well exaggerated anyway!

     When I described to Dave the modest changes Morgan had made he laughed,
each hidden camera, each concealed microphone bringing on a slightly wider
grin. Even Morgan was starting to enjoy the `improved version'.

     "Well boys, very soon now I expect, or rather hope, that young Caine
will be here. I phoned him up and asked him to come. I have some important
things to discuss with the three of you and I would much prefer to go
through it all just the once, with all of you here."

     It didn't matter how much Morgan and I tried asking questions, Dave was
adamant that he would tell the three of us the one but most important aspect
of the sting together. Nothing would make him say more. Eventually, we saw
Caine walking briskly towards us on the pier head, accompanied by Mike and
Murky.

     Morgan panicked, asking Dave just how much his sister knew. Daves
reassuring smile and calm voice worked wonders with Morgan, who whilst still
on edge had dropped from red `sister alert' to amber.

     "Right guys, if I can just have your attention. First of all am I
correct in saying that everyone present here knows about what we shall call
`Plan B', that is to say, Chris's plan."

     All nodded in agreement. I had made sure by that time that with the
exception of Morgan, everybody knew the plan and what was expected of them.
Morgan of course knew from his own methods.

     "OK. Now, can I equally be sure that all here know `My plan' shall we
say Plan A?"

     Again all heads nodded.

     "Finally, am I right in saying that there is nobody, not here, who
knows about any of the plans."

     Now I went into 'Red Alert'. I knew that Dave was proud of his English,
and was what one could reasonably call a pedant when it came to using the
right word at the right time. There was a rodent of the vermin kind emitting
a strong odour. I could smell a rat!

     "Any of the plans?  You said `Any of the plans' not `either of the
plans'. How many plans are there?"

     Dave grinned from ear to ear.

     "There are three plans for us to discuss here, the two you all know
about and the extra one that Mercedes and I sorted out yesterday. Do you
want to know how that plan was to work?"

     Mercedes was looking pensive, she was wondering how we were going to
feel about her interference. How we would react.  Mike hugged her to him
while they both watched the rest of us look from her to Dave waiting for the
details of `Plan C' We were looking in the wrong direction. It was Mercedes
who spoke.

     "Dave's idea was the easiest of them all. The pair of us would arrange
for all of you to meet at the head of the pier. We would both be here to
make sure you all attended. When I walked past the gate house I gave the
guys in there the nod. Telling them that you were all out of harms way. That
was the point when they phoned the police, telling them who, what, where and
when.

     "The police had already been told most of what was going on, it was
just to make sure that the perv was at home. He is there waiting for Caine
to tell him how far he has got with the arrangements for the filming. I
expect the police are there even now. Its best to let the professionals sort
these things out, well I think so."

     I wasn't quite sure how or what I was feeling at that point. At last I
sorted out the emotion. I was feeling just a little stupid. My plan might
have worked, Morgan's plan was a bit better, but Dave's plan was the right
one. Blackmail is blackmail. Obscene photographs of children are illegal, so
is coerced  sex. The bottom line was that we had done nothing wrong.
Misguided yes but wrong? No.

     Caine was getting really pantsy now, wondering what his father was
finding out. Dave sat next to him and started chatting in that low
Australian accent I loved. I was half listening to him and half to Mercedes
and Mike reassuring Morgan that he was very brave trying to help and that he
had done nothing bad whatsoever.

     They both winked at me as they gathered Morgan up to take him home. It
had been a long day for him. Dave wandered back to the security hut, leaving
Caine alone with me.

     "Your friend Dave is a cool guy. That's the second time he's rescued
me. Bit of a `Knight in armour'. He's just told me that although there is
nothing I can do about the pics Barry has already released, he reckons that
there won't be many of those. Knowing that the pictures are unique, Barry
would want to keep them that way for as long as possible, to use for
trading. Dave doubted that Barry had released more than a couple at the
most."

    "Dave the Knight eh, yes that sounds good, `A Knight at the Pictures'
even."

    I thought about so many things right then, I thought of the spider and
the crab, my mind wandered to the vista of my form teacher and of the RSPCA
man. Then to the Professor, even though he was a figment of a vivid
imagination, I would still miss him. I would miss him terribly. I somehow
knew that I wouldn't be calling him again.

     I watched my rod tip as it twitched, there was a fish there alright,
probably a flattie. I looked round to see if Caine had seen it. He wasn't
watching it. He was looking straight into my face, into my eyes. He looked
both lost and intense at the same time

    His head came closer to mine as I saw his eyes half closing. He wanted
this. He wanted it every bit as much as I did.  My eyes closed as I felt his
lips meet mine. That fish could go to hell.

---------------------------------------------------------------------


That was    A Knight at the Pictures               by Angela Mynah

angela_mynah@msn.com <mailto:angela_mynah@msn.com>

Well, its time to let Chris, Caine, Mike and Mercedes get on with their
lives in private. As for Morgan, well who knows.

All comments welcome, even flamers. Its being ignored I can't stand.

Please do e-mail me; I get a lot of my ideas from what you say, also, please
tell me where you read this as I intent to post it to more than one site.

Coming soon.    "Fall little star, Rise great Sun." (Chapter Two)