Date: Mon, 31 Jan 2000 23:39:47 -0500
From: Sidney Gittler <SidG@compuserve.com>
Subject: Mall Punk 19

This story is a work of fiction containing gay sex scenes between teenage
boys.  If you don't like that sort of stuff, well skip over it because it's
still a good story without it.  Please send all comments to
sidg@compuserve.com

Mall Punk Part 19
by Sid Gittler (c)2000

     Note: I want to thank everybody who took the time to read the
"Ruminations" section.  I know it was a little ego stroking on my part, but
what the hell, I thought I deserved it <vbg>.  Seriously, I do want to
thank all my friends and family for contributing.  After all the hell I've
gone through it really felt good to read all that nice stuff.  But don't
worry, this chapter starts the Sunday night after Thanksgiving, or should I
say early Monday morning.  Jonathan Sorrel

Holidays: Happy & Not

     Joe and I were sound asleep when my phone rang.  Pushing myself up I
glanced at my alarm clock as I picked up the phone.  Four in the fucking
morning, if this was a wrong number or a prank someone was dead.
     "Somebody die?" Joe mumbled.
     "Better be good," I said, then repeated it when I got my mouth near
the mouthpiece.
     "Jon, help, I need your help.  Tony just got back and he's out of
control.  I'm alone here.  I don't know what to do."
     "Barton?  Slow down, where are you?  Anybody else with you?"  I
shouted to make him hear me.
     "Home alone, parents business trip, he's tripping or something, I'm
scared."
     Joe pulled me around, "Tony's going wild?"
     I nodded, "I can hear him in the background."
     Joe took the phone from me.  "Go get Stya, tell him we leave in five
minutes."
     "But."
     Joe pointed and put the receiver to his mouth.  I listened as I
pounded on the connecting door and walked through.
     "Barton, it's Joe.  I need you to calm down now."  I'd never heard
this tone of voice from my lover.
     "OK, I'm going to tell you what you have to do . . . You have to
. . . Grab his face in your hands and tell him he either calms down
immediately or he goes into the closet . . . Just do it and if he doesn't
calm down start dragging him to the nearest closet and if you have to throw
him in and lock the fucking door."
     By this time both Stya and I were back in the room pulling on some
clothes.  "What are you doing?"  Stya said.
     Joe just waved us silent.  It was sort of cool seeing him being so
commanding while standing there in the raw.
     "OK, he's crying in the corner.  Fine, now go unlock the front door
. . . it's open fine then stay with him and we'll be there as fast as we
can."

     Well within the five minutes we were in the car and speeding toward
Barton's house.  Lights, of all colors, flew by as Stya raced along the
empty streets of Longston.  A couple times I tried asking Joe what he'd
done but he just shook his head.  When we reached Pleasant Pkwy. we had to
stop at the light and I saw Joe was crying.  I pulled him into my lap and
gently kissed his forehead.  He buried his face in my shoulder and started
crying harder.
     Stya used the deputy's badge Grandpa had given him once to get through
the gate and we raced through Camelot Gardens to rescue the "damsel" in
distress.  As we pulled into the Finch's driveway I suddenly remembered
what Joe had said the first time I'd been here and was meeting everybody:
"Let's say that if we put everybody's in this room real and imagined hurts
from their family together we wouldn't come close to Jon's reality and
leave it at that.  Including yours Tony."
     I realized that Tony was a very strong second in the fucked up life
contest, a stronger second than I'd imagined.
     Joe was off my lap and out the door before Stya brought the car to a
complete stop.  I waited to it was and ran after him.  Entering the door I
heard his footsteps racing up the stairs, along with sounds of yelling and
crying.  I followed as fast as I could.  When I reached the first landing I
heard Tony screaming.
     "I hate you, I hate you," over and over.  Barton was crying and
telling his boyfriend how much he loved him.
     I was on my way up the final flight when I heard Joe walk into the
room.  Tony stopped in mid yell.
     "Hi Tony," Joe said.
     "You!  You fucking told, you fucking bastard."  Something broke
against a wall and a book flew out of the door five inches over my head.
     Barton's room was in shambles.  Barton was cowering in a corner and I
could see the beginnings of a giant bruise on the left side of his face.
Of more immediate concern was Tony's menacing march toward my lover.
     Joe's hands flashed and he grabbed Tony's and tightly held the
struggling boy.  I started over.
     "Stay away Jon, just stay away."
     "He knows too?  You bastard, you bastard you promised."
     "I didn't have a choice amigo.  I didn't have a choice with Barton
here alone."
     "You're not my friend," Tony snapped, but seemed to be quieting down.
"You don't understand, you don't understand."  Suddenly Tony's face was
buried in Joe's face and he was sobbing ten times harder than Joe had been
just a little while earlier.
     "Are you all right?"  I heard Stya ask Barton.
     "I don't know, he hit me, I love him and he hit me and I still love
him.  If he wants to hit me again he can and I'll still love him.  But I
don't understand, don't know what happened.  Joe why did you tell me to do
that?"
     "Later, Stya, Jon, take Barton to the bathroom and take care of his
face," Joe said.
     "You sure?" Stya said.
     Joe just nodded and Dad and I helped Barton up and out of the room.  I
was nervous as hell but somehow confident Joe knew what he was doing.  He
had stopped Tony before we'd even left home.
     "Jon, let's take care of Barton now," Stya said as we walked down the
stairs.  How he knew where the master bathroom was on the next floor I'll
never know but that's where we ended up.
     "Get a towel and wet it with warm water," Stya said as we sat Barton
on the john.  While I dabbed his face Stya rummaged through the cabinets
and came up with a bunch of things which he used on the rising bruises that
dotted Barton's face and chest.
     "Don't you know how to defend yourself at all?"  I said.
     Barton slowly shook his head.  "Mom and Dad hate fighting.  Only
sports I learned were tennis and things like that, nice and genteel.  And
he started screaming and shoving as soon as I cracked the door open."
Barton fell silent, except for the occasional gasp or ouch, as Stya gently
probed his ribs and face.
     "Nothing broken, but you're going to hurt like hell in the morning.
Hopefully the bruises won't be too bad.  Barton, I've got to call your
parents.  Where's the hotel's phone number?"
     "No, I can't lose him," Barton said.
     "Your not going to lose him, but he may lose you if he doesn't get his
act back together.  But I can't leave you alone after this.  Your parents
have to know, now where is that phone number?"
     "On the refrigerator door, but can we wait till after we talk to Tony?
Find out what happened."
     "OK, but the call will be made."
     "Yes sir," Barton said.
     "The name's Stya not sir," my dad said and tousled Barton's already
uncharacteristically mussed up hair.
     "Stya, guys, can you come back upstairs, please?" Joe called down the
stairs.
     "Is he all right?" Barton said but Joe had gone back into the bedroom.

     Entering the room it really struck me how much destruction had taken
place.  Joe was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Tony, who was on his
back, one arm covering his eyes.  Barton started over but Joe shook his
head and pointed at the couch along the other side of the wall.  Barton sat
between us.
     "First I have to apologize to Tony," Joe said.  "Years before I ever
met any one of you he and I were neighbors and close friends.  Tony's
father is an alcoholic, an alcoholic who refuses to face the problems his
drinking has caused.  Including mistreating his son.  From the time he was
an infant if Tony made too much noise his father smacked him and threw him
in the closet, a dark closet."
     "Is that why he needs a nightlight?"  Barton said softly.
     Joe nodded.  "As Tony got older things got worse.  There were long
stretches of time Tony virtually lived at my house, only went home for bed,
and still ended up in the closet most nights, for the night.  In fifth
grade he started drinking and drugs started in sixth in an effort to blot
out the pain.  Ironically because he was coming home stoned and collapsing
in bed every night before his dad got home from the bar he stopped getting
thrown in the closet."
     "So it became positive reinforcement for his own self-destructive
behavior," Stya said.
     I tried imagining virtually living in a dark closet.  If my
half-brothers had done that I would have crossed the line into insanity and
probably suicide.  "Why didn't he runaway, try to escape?"  I said.
     "He did escape, into drugs," Stya said and reached around to pat me on
the shoulder.  I squeezed it tight.  "So what happened tonight?"
     "He's been living here really the last month or so, ever since we
became a couple," Barton said.
     "Even before my birthday party?"
     Barton nodded, "we began dating right after the gay club's first
meeting and it just quickly started.  Tony was always looking to spend the
night and it just became accepted.  My parents almost treat him like
another son instead of my boyfriend."
     "That's really great, he's seemed happier than I remember him in
years," Joe said.
     "Thanks, but his mom called last week and asked him to come home for
the holiday.  He tried saying no but his mother promised him it would be
all right," Barton said.
     Tony started talking.  "He was cool on Thursday and Friday.  My mom's
folks were over for Thanksgiving and he always stays sober around them.
They left yesterday morning and he headed to the bar in the basement and
started drinking.  He was bombed by lunch time and I tried talking to him
about getting help.  He said," Tony stopped and wiped his eyes, "he said he
wasn't a fucking drug addict like his worthless son.  That if he had to do
over he would have drowned me at birth rather than being disgraced like
that."
     "Jesus," Barton said.
     "Mom tried getting him to stop but I told him to spit it the fuck out.
Forever he called me every name in the book.  I didn't say a word.  When he
finished I turned to my mother and asked her why she stayed with him, why
she hadn't taken me and gone back home to her parents when he'd started.
     "She said, 'I married him for better or worse, I can't leave him.'  He
smiled at me and said at least someone showed him respect, and then he hit
me, grabbed me by the hair and started dragging me to the closet.  I hit
him in the balls and ran."
     "Why didn't you come right back?"  Barton said.
     Tony started to turn over on the bed but Joe grabbed him.  "I felt so
alone and worthless then.  You didn't deserve somebody like me.  I snuck up
to my tree house and found my stash and started smoking.  I passed out,
woke up, smoked some more, passed out again until late that night.  Somehow
I got down the tree, broke into the house and stole some food and money.  I
looked at the big knives and thought about killing him."
     "No!" Barton cried.
     "But I thought of you my love, you saved me.  I got out of there and
went back up the tree.  Today I went and got some more grass and coke and
got angrier, and more upset with each hit.  I don't know how I got here but
I did and now I've ruined everything.  I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Tony cried
over and over.
     Barton ran over and hugged him.  Told him he loved him and everything
was going to be OK.  Joe came over to the couch and Stya headed downstairs
to make the phone call.
     "You OK Joe?"  I said.
     "I hated myself for doing that to him.  I hated myself for not helping
him more when we were kids."  Joe turned to me and I opened my arms and he
fell into my warm, loving arms.

     The sun was shining the next time I opened my eyes.  Joe and I
precariously balanced in each others arm on the couch.  A glance showed
Barton and Tony asleep in Barton's bed, also in each other's arms.  The
clock on Barton's night table read 11:35.
     "How you doing son?"  A soft voice whispered from behind me.
     I took a minute to sort myself out, emotionally and physically.  "I
got to piss bad but besides that I'm fine.  Did you call school?"
     "For all four of you.  Mrs. Finch should be here in an hour or so."
     "Now I've really fucked everything up," Tony said from the bed.
     "Only if you want it to be fucked up young man.  If you want it to
work and willing to do what's needed it still can work," Stya said.
     Turning my head I saw Tony stroking Barton's cheek.  "Anything, and I
know I'm going to have to go talk to my parole officer today.  That scares
me."
     "Damn it, I've got to piss," I said and shoved Joe off me and ran for
the bathroom.
     "What the fuck," Barton and Joe seemed to say simultaneously.  It was
funny but I kept running.
     There was a line outside the door by the time I'd finished and then we
all headed down to the kitchen.  Barton and Tony pulled out some milk,
orange juice, several boxes of cereal, including Kellogg's Sugar Frosted
Flakes.  We were still sitting around the table moaning about what our
teachers were going to do to us for extending our Thanksgiving holiday
another day when Mrs.  Finch walked in from the garage.

     "Hi mom," Barton said and took Tony's hand.  I took Joe's.
     "Hello Mrs.  Finch," Tony said.
     "Now what did I tell you to call me Tony?"  Mrs.  Finch said.
     "I can still call you mom?"  Tony said, the shock and relief quickly
spreading across his face.
     "Of course you can, mind you I am mad at you, but that's for not
coming straight home when things went bad."
     "Come home?"  Tony said.
     "Yes, from now on we want this to be your home.  Last night Stya told
us about the arrangements he has with Jon's dad, and we're going to do the
same for you.  And if your parents don't go for it then we'll go to court
and get it done."
     "I'll never have to see him again, go there again?"
     "That's right, if that's what you want," Mrs.  Finch said.
     Tony didn't speak, he just shot up and ran over and hugged her.  We
could hear his sobbing.  After a couple of minutes I poked Barton and he
went over to.
     Silently the three of us left and went back to my house.
     As we all headed back to the beds we'd been rousted from over ten
hours earlier Stya put his hand on Joe's shoulder.  "Joe, I know I've
always said I love you, but today you made me really proud.  What you did
for your friend today took guts."
     "Thanks Stya."
     I blew dad a kiss, took Joe's hand and led him into my bedroom.
     "And are you proud of me?" Joe asked.
     I turned and saw this wicked smile.  "I'll show you how proud I am,"
and stuck my tongue down his throat.
     It didn't take us long to be naked in bed again.  There was a slow
caring to our passion.  I
 knew the inner turmoil my love was feeling, after all I'd felt it too,
first with Ton-Ton and then Jeff, and now once again.  Our lips locked as
we each tried sucking the anger and sadness out of the other.
     "I love you," I said.
     Joe didn't say a word, he just pushed me onto my back and started
sucking on my left nipple.  It didn't take long for it to become fully
erect but Joe kept working on it.  My moaning just made him suck harder.
Finally he started nibbling his way down my chest, occasionally nipping one
of the light fine blond chest hairs that now lightly dust my torso.  I
remembered the day when after soaking and making love in his parents'
Jacuzzi he helped me shave off all my body hair.  I like this look a hell
of a lot better.
     Finally he reached my groin and I let my fingers float through his
fine brownish-red hair.  Joe raised his head, blew me a kiss and swallowed
my cock.
     I gasped as he started licking my balls with the tip of his tongue.
It was a trick I'd taught him and it never failed to bring me to full
erection.  Joe shifted position slightly so he could deep throat me and
started bobbing his head up and down in slow motion.  I lay flat and gave
myself up to the sensations.  As I told Stya right after the first time
he'd met Joe, my love is a natural cock sucker and he's gotten better with
experience.
     Slowly, sensuously he kept working on my cock.  Every time I got
remotely close to coming he stopped and let me subside.  Eventually those
rest periods got closer together and he also started going faster.
     "Oh shit, do it lover, you've got one hot mouth today and it's driving
me crazy," I said.  Joe said something but you know how hard it is to
understand someone when they have a full mouth.  My back arched.  "I'm
going to shoot," I cried and did.  Shot after shot of pure boy cum shot out
of my rod and down my best friend and lover's gullet.  Joe never stopped
sucking, working hard to get every single drop.
     When there wasn't any more he kept sucking.  I moved around in to a
sixty-nine and swallowed his cock.  I matched his slow rhythm until he was
nice and hard.
     "Fuck me Joe, I want to feel you inside of me."
     We separated and I got back on my back and lifted and spread my legs
so Joe had a good look and a clear shot at the promised land.
     The first thing that got there was his tongue.  I don't like or need
much lube but I love it when Joe rims me first.  It gives me just the right
amount of moisture and opens me just enough to make initial penetration
easier.  After ten minutes Joe shifted position and I saw and felt his cock
at my entrance way.  Now he was a boy possessed, he inserted, pushed his
way past my sphincter and started fucking.  He fucked with hard, long
strokes.  He fucked with passion.  He fucked with a need for release.
     A release it did not take him long to get.
     Joe pulled out, lay beside me and kissed my cheek.  "I love you
Jonathan Sorrel."
     "I love you Joseph Werner."
     We slept till dinner time.  After dinner Stya and I took him home.

     School was chaotic the next day.  It started with a surprise quiz in
history, including stuff that the teacher had gone over only the day
before.  Mrs.  Euclid did the same thing in my second period math class.
By the time I handed in my paper I was praying that all my teachers hadn't
conspired to punish me for taking an extra day off.
     Third period Spanish wasn't a quiz.  Just two pages to translate from
English to Spanish, points off for a literal translation.  I left praying
for a quiet study hall.
     No chance.  Two tenth grade girls were in each others face and
Mr. Little was struggling to get them apart, and his voice from reaching
impressively high octaves.  Two female gym teachers finally rushed in and
dragged the girls apart and out.  As soon as they were gone three of my
friends from the Gay and Straight Student Alliance surrounded me.
     "Jon what the hell happened?  You guys had us all so worried," Terry
said.  Terry is fifteen, barely five feet tall, raven hair that lays loose
down to the middle of his back, thin as a rail and as effeminate in voice
and motions as a guy can get.  But the club would be in deep trouble
without him.  He's willing to do all those jobs none of the rest of us want
to.  Worse, he does them well.
     "Nothing happened," I said, trying to sound convincing.
     "Then why were you, Joe, Barton and Tony out yesterday?  And why is
Tony in jail?"  Larry said.
     "What?  I didn't know that."
     "Quiet back there, I will not tolerate any more outbursts in class
today," Mr. Little shouted from the front.  Obviously still frazzled from
the fight.
     "Sorry Mr. Little," Terry said and we huddled together.
     "You know Tony's basically been living with Barton," I said.
     They all nodded.  I explained what had happened through Mrs.  Finch's
arrival and our departure.
     "His probation officer must have thrown a fit for him to be in jail,"
Terry said.
     "Unless there was something he didn't tell you," Larry added.
     "Maybe his dad pressed charges against him," Barry said and we all
looked at him.
     I raised my hand.
     "Just go do whatever you need to do boy and make sure you get to your
next class on time," Mr. Little said.
     "I'm coming with you," Terry said and all four of us walked out.  We
passed one of the straights in the club.  He made a circle with two fingers
and used his middle finger of the other hand to make a fucking motion.
     I gave him the finger and a smile.
     It didn't take us long to reach the phones by the main office.
They're free but can't make toll calls.  The number I dialed was local and
seconds later the phone was answered.
     "Sheriff Maskovitz speaking."
     "Grandpa it's Jon."
     "Hello, how you doing?"
     "Fine, how are you and grandma?"
     "Fine too, and she really wants to see you soon.  But I have a feeling
you have a reason for calling me from school.  You are calling from
school?"
     "Yes grandpa, I've got study now.  I just heard Tony Calluchio's in
jail.  Why?"
     "You know he violated his probation when he used drugs, and he messed
up the Finch's house."
     "I know, I saw and heard what he had to say," I said.
     "Then you know he stole money from his parents.  They pressed charges
yesterday morning," Grandpa Sheriff said.
     "The bastards, sorry Grandpa, but that's crazy," I said as I pointed
at Barry who half- smiled and half-frowned at being right.
     "He's got a court hearing at four, can you be there for support?"
     "County or Longston?"
     "County, made sure it was my jurisdiction."
     "I'll be there and try to bring some more of his friends."
     "See you then.  Love you," Grandpa said.
     "Love you too," I said and hung up the phone.  I rested my head on the
receiver for a moment before looking up as the bell sounded.  It took a
minute for me to explain what had happened.  Terry and Barry said their
mothers would drive us down to the county courthouse in Newark for the
hearing.  Then we ran for our next class, which for me was lunch.  A second
straight period without a chance of a test.
     When I walked into Mr. Halsey's room after lunch and saw a stack of
papers on his desk I groaned.
     "Something the matter Jonathan?" he said.
     "No sir."
     "Take an extra day off and you look more exhausted than the rest of
us.  Would you like to tell us what you did yesterday, or doesn't it fit in
with our study of Dickens' Great Expectations?  Perhaps some other book
we've read?"  Mr. Halsey said as he tapped the papers.
     "A little Great Expectations, a little Basketball Diaries and I'm sure
a couple of others.  But not the happier parts of the books I'm afraid."
     "Interesting, tell us the bare facts that you feel are appropriate and
then we'll see if the rest of the class agrees with your analysis,"
Mr. Halsey said.
     I thought for a moment and gave a five minute recitation of the facts.
The class was silent for a minute.  Then Harry Potter raised his hand and
the discussion was off and running.  We were reluctant to stop when the
bell rang.
     "Excellent class, remember two things.  The first is not to mention
the names involved or what happened to anybody, we must respect their
privacy.  Even if we have violated it today.  Second, each of you takes a
copy of this essay on Dickens life at the time he wrote Great Expectations
and read it by class tomorrow.  Jonathan wait a moment please."
     It took a moment for the room to clear and he told some of his next
class to wait outside and closed the door.
     "How you doing Jon?"
     "Fine Dick, it was weird but I handled it OK."
     "Class help?"
     I thought for a moment and smiled.  Dick Halsey laughed and wrote me a
note since I'd be late for my next class.
     Gym, biology and architecture flew by, testless and thoughtless.  At
three sharp there were twenty of us at the front door plus four mothers
dragooned into chauffeur duty.  Not happy about going into Newark that
late, but proud of their children's concern for their friend.  In my van
Terry's mother passed around her cell phone so anybody who hadn't already
left word could call home.
     The Essex County Courthouse is large, imposing and a little
overwhelming.  I got sent over to the information desk.
     "Can I help you?" the guard said condescendingly.
     I smiled at him.  "Yes sir, my name is Jonathan Maskovitz and my
grandfather requested our presence at the State vs. Calluchio hearing."
     "And who's your grandpa sonny?"
     "Sheriff Maskovitz," I said with a big smile.
     The guard went slightly pale, stood and bellowed.  "Officer Montoya,
please escort Sheriff Maskovitz's guests to Courtroom 6A."
     "Yes sir," the young Hispanic officer said.  "Please follow me.  We'll
need two elevators so the first group will wait until I come up with the
second."
     The twenty-four of us followed silently to a bank of elevators.  Joe
and I were on the first car up.  He leaned over, "why did you do that?  You
never use Maskovitz."
     "Didn't like his attitude."
     Once we were all upstairs Officer Montoya instructed us on the proper
way to enter and act in the courtroom.  Terry's mom thanked him for us.  He
tipped his hat, opened the door and we filed in silently.  It was ten
minutes to four.
     There was a hearing going on and we watched in silence.  Finally the
case was over and three girls were led away in handcuffs.  Even though it
was now four there were two child support cases before the bailiff called
State vs. Calluchio.  The rear doors opened, I turned from my aisle seat
and saw Stya, Barton and both his parents enter the courtroom.  Barton was
the first to see us and his jaw dropped, then he covered his eyes and I
knew he was crying.  The four of them proceeded to the front of the room
and took seats in the first row.  I saw them glaring at a couple across the
aisle.
     "Those are Tony's folks," Joe whispered in my ear.
     A hatred I hadn't felt since the confrontation with Reggie suddenly
filled my heart and I had to close my eyes.
     Another door opened and when I opened my eyes I saw Tony, wearing
cuffs and an orange jumpsuit, being led in by two guards.  He deliberately
avoided looking at the gallery while he was led to a table.  He sat next to
a man in a brown suit I presumed was his lawyer.
     Mr. Calluchio was the first witness, followed by Tony's probation
officer, Barton and then Barton's parents.  Barton had it the worst, being
forced to testify against the most important person in his life.  After
that the prosecution rested.  Then Tony's lawyer called Mr. Finch back up
and went into Tony's relationship with the Finch's and their willingness to
make him their foster son.  The DA objected but the judge overruled.
     When he was finished with Mr. Finch the lawyer whispered something to
Tony rose and turned to the judge.
     "Judge Mason, you may have noted the group of young men and women
sitting quietly in the rear of the hall.  These are my clients classmates
and friends who came from Longston Academy to support Mr. Calluchio.  To
speak for them I call Mr. Jonathan Sorrel."
     I rose and started walking up an aisle that suddenly looked two miles
long.  From behind me I heard the door open and close.  As I reached the
gate separating the gallery and the hearing area Judge Mason looked up.
     "Well hello Sheriff Maskovitz, to what do I owe the honor?"
     "Don't let me interrupt Your Honor.  I heard my foster-grandson was
about to testify so I thought I'd come see how he does."
     Great I thought, now I have to worry about impressing Grandpa on top
of saving my friend's life.  Before I reached the witness chair the
district attorney rose waving his handkerchief.
     "Your Honor, I request a short recess for a conference in your
chambers with my colleague, Mr. O'Hara, the defendant and the Finches."
     "Any objections counsel?"
     "None."
     "Court is in recess.  Mr. Sorrel you have not been excused so please
don't leave the immediate area."
     I nodded, and fled.  Discreetly
     Stya and Grandpa stayed inside so we wondered around the corridor.  I
was praying they'd work something out so I wouldn't have to testify.
     Thirty minutes later they called us back into court.  I started back
up the aisle but Stya told me to sit behind him.  After everybody was in
their place the bailiff came in the door, we rose, the judge came in, we
sat.  Just like on television.
     After shuffling some papers Judge Mason removed his glasses and looked
up.  "First I would like to thank the students from Longston Academy and
their parents for coming down today.  It is heartening to see you take an
interest in our justice system and your friend's welfare.
     "Mr. Calluchio Sr. I have to tell you the only reason you're not
wearing handcuffs right now is because I don't want to put Antonio
Jr. through the agony of having to testify against you.
     "Will you please stand Tony."
     Tony did, keeping his eyes on the judge.
     "Now we went over a lot of this in my chambers but we have to do it
out here on the record."
     "Yes Your Honor."
     "Now you did violate your probation so I'm going to have to extend it
another two years."
     "I understand and accept Your Honor," Tony said.
     "Now, here's the good part son.  I am hereby severing your natural
parents' rights and granting the adoption petition entered by Mr. and
Mrs. Bartholomew Finch.  Young Mr. Finch, use this opportunity wisely and
well.  The court will not always be this understanding."
     "Thank you Your Honor."
     "Hearing no objection I order this case closed, the records sealed and
court is adjourned," Judge Mason said and rose.  Instead of leaving the
courtroom he walked over to Tony and shook his hand.  Then he turned to
Grandpa Sheriff.
     "Sheriff Maskovitz, if you ever pull a stunt like this again I'll hold
you in contempt.  This time you owe me a drink.  You're coming Stya, and
bring your son too."
     "Meet you there," Stya said as the two older men headed out the back
door.  "Jonathan," he called.
     I heard him but I was being hugged tight by Tony and Barton, both of
whom were shaking.
     "I don't know how to thank all of you," Tony said.  "Nobody's done
this for me before."
     "I'll tell you how," Stya said.  "Next time you think of using
remember we're here to help you, and you don't need oblivion to escape your
problems.  To the rest of you, when the Sheriff told me he'd spoken to Jon
we hoped maybe five or six of you.  He asked me to thank all of you,
especially the four mothers who made the drive down and that it did make a
difference to the judge and Tony's probation officer .  Now the officer
here will escort you to your cars.  Jon you're with me, Joe you'll get a
ride home."
     Joe made a face, then nodded.

     I spent a sleepless night wondering about something for about the
twentieth time.  I remembered telling Lamont I would always be a Sorrel.
But did I want Stya to adopt me as his own?  We've never talked about it
and I don't know how he'd feel.  That's not true, I know if I asked him
he'd do it in a second and love being my legal dad.  Eric's started the
process with Ton-Ton, but like with Tony the situations different from
mine.  At least it's different now, and I guess that's why I don't want to
take that step.
     A lot happened those first two days nd the rest of the week was
equally crazy.  Tony wants everybody to call him Finch instead of his old
last name.  When he wanted Anton instead of Tony it was a little too much.
We tried, but even he didn't respond to it.  So Tony Finch it is.  At that
week's club meeting we had a party to celebrate.  Of course we also teased
them unmercifully about their incestuous love affair.
     Tony's response to that was to first stick his tongue out at us, and
then down Barton's throat.  At the end of the meeting the two perverts,
hell what else do you call a pair of incestuous brothers, invited us to
their den of inequity for a party Saturday night.
     LAGSSA being co-ed and made up of straights, lesbians and gay the
opening three hours of the party was snacking, socializing, dancing and
playing video games on Barton's 50" television set.  About eleven the
straights, lesbians and bi-girls started leaving.  Which left thirteen of
us guys.
     By the time Barton and Tony came back down the steps after seeing
Betty and Michael out the eleven of us were naked, with five hiding under
the steps and six in a semicircle about four feet from the bottom step.  As
soon as the pair were off the stairs the five got behind them.
     I stepped in front of them.  "Barton, Tony, we've kidded you about
bringing new meaning to the term brotherly love.  To a new understanding of
the saying: vice is nice, but incest's best.  But it's time to move beyond
such pettiness.  Right now I have just two words to say."
     "Good luck?"  Tony said.
     I shook my head.  "Strip them!"
     It didn't take long, and fortunately they were home already, for us to
have them naked and pinned onto the ground.
     "You know guys," Joe said, "these two have been brothers for just four
days."
     "Right," we said.
     "Now that makes them baby brothers."
     "Right."
     "Now they've got way too much hair on their bodies to be babies."
     "True."
     "So what are we going to do about that?"  Joe said.
     "Oh no, please don't, anything but that," Tony cried out.
     "Terry do the honors please, cover the crybaby first," Joe said.
     Terry swished over holding the spray can in his hand, squatted down
with his ass two inches from Barton's face and covered Tony's crotch and
cock in a thick blanket of cream.
     "Save some, we do have a second to do," Joe said as he opened up a
straight razor.
     "Oh no you don't," Tony said and started really struggling.  That is
until Joe started bending down.
     "Barton, do you want Joe to shave Tony?"  Larry asked.
     "He's done it before," I said.
     "No I don't," Barton said and I detected the start of a smile.
     "Well, if you don't want me to take this shaving cream off with my
razor then you're going to have to eat it off," Joe said.
     "Fine, just let me up."
     "Oh and you have to keep eating it until I see his cum flowing out of
your mouth."
     "OK, OK," Barton said as he was picked up from the floor and his nose
pushed into the pile of foam.  He wiped it off on Tony's navel and then
licked up some of the cream and tasted it.  "You bastards."
     "Just eat him already," Larry said.
     Barton grinned, opened his mouth wide and swallowed four inches of his
lovers cock, and a mouthful of whipped cream.  The eleven of us gathered
around to watch.  It was so hot we were all stroking along with Barton's
bobs.  It took a few minutes for Barton to clear all the whipped cream away
and really start working on his bro's cock.  About ten minutes later Tony
screamed and the cum started dripping from Barton's mouth.
     When Barton lay down next to Tony we covered them with eleven loads of
cum.
     After that the action became a little more conventional.  Sort of.
Conventional for an orgy?  Or whatever you wish to call thirteen, naked,
gay, teenage boys for whom shooting one load is considered a warm-up drill.
     I think Terry may have had the best time.  He tasted all thirteen
cocks there that night, that's right he's limber enough to lick the tip of
his own cock.  I'm not sure how many loads he swallowed, but I know I
filled his ass with my third of the night.  When he remained lying on his
stomach, legs spread after I pulled out Jeremy came over and pulled him up.
     Sitting on the couch I watched them.  Terry stared as a six feet of
solid muscle lifted him a foot off the ground and brought their lips
together.  Terry's mouth opened to accept the invading tongue, legs
wrapping around the football player's hips.  His long black hair concealing
Jeremy's face as he carried Terry and they disappeared behind the bar.  Out
of sight, but not out of hearing.
     Barton slipped next to me and gave me a quick kiss.  I looked around
and saw Joe and Tony going at it on the floor.  Barton saw where I was
looking.
     "Are you jealous at all?"
     I shook my head, "we have an agreement.  The only time we do something
like tonight is if we talk about it first and agree on it.  If I thought he
was being a slut it would be one thing, but here with friends," I shook my
head.  "Especially with an old and good friend, no I can't get jealous.
But you know, I remember a certain request you once made."
     "What request?"  Barton said, and it was cute.  He really had no idea
what I was talking about.
     "See if this reminds you," I said as I brought my lips to his.  My
tongue slowly entered his mouth and he welcomed it warmly.
     "Now I remember, and I'm going to be a lousy host and not withdraw
it."
     "Yeah, but you never did say what you wanted from my alter-ego."
     "At that point I wanted something I'd never had then.  A man's mouth
on my cock."
     "Well I may not be the first, but let's see how I rank," I said and
slid between his legs and saw an already rigid cock beginning to drip.  I
flicked my tongue out and cleaned the clear fluid away from the tip of a
cut six inch cock.
     At that moment Terry's squealed, his voice a higher octave than usual.
"You want me to fuck you?"
     "Oh yeah," Jeremy responded as I sucked the tip of Barton's cock.
     "Oh yeah," Barton said as my mouth slipped further down his cock.
     It didn't take me long to swallow his throbbing tool.  It tasted
different somehow, maybe because it had recently been in Tony's mouth and
Terry's ass or maybe coming from the rich side of town, but it tasted a
little sweeter.  My tongue flicked out onto his hairless balls and gave
them a good bath as my nose nuzzled into his pubic bush and smelled the raw
sex that emanates from a teenaged boy who has already cum twice that night
and bathed in his share of eleven loads as well.
     I could feel my cock getting harder, rubbing against the couch.  Then
something else was rubbing my cock head.  Looking down I saw Glenn had
slithered underneath me and was beginning to work on my cock.  I ran a hand
over Glenn's close cropped hair and pushed in slightly to say it was OK for
him to continue.  If the precum beginning to flow hadn't told him already.
Wanting to make it last I slowed down my pace on Barton's cock which was
beginning to throb in my mouth.  I reached up and pinched his nipples hard
and the raging tool in my hot mouth went flaccid.
     As I waited a minute so did the mouth on my cock.  Then Glenn moaned
and a glance around picked up Arne going down on Glenn and Tyrone starting
to work on Arne.  It was a stark contrast.  Tyrone's ebony mouth going down
on Arne's pale white uncut cock.
     My cock twitched in Glenn's still mouth from the sight and felt the
couch shake as Barry jumped on and stuck his cock into Barton's mouth.
     I started working on Barton's hardening cock and felt him and Glenn
get to work as well.  Tyrone moaned and I figured Larry, someone, had
started working on him.  Two more moans and I knew we had a nine man daisy
chain working.  Glenn had picked up his pace on my cock so I did the same
on Barton and I sensed it happening all along the line.  I slowed and so
did everybody else.  This was so hot and so cool at the same time.
     Glenn pulled halfway off, licked my slit and I filled his mouth with
boy cum as I sucked Barton's rigid, throbbing tool so hard I pulled his cum
out of his balls and into my bobbing mouth.  It didn't take long for eight
of us to lose our loads.  Pierre was at the end, slowly rubbing his cock as
Billy Joe's cum ran down his chin.  I pulled off both Barton and Glenn and
walked over, pulled Pierre's hand away and went down on his thick five
inches.  Almost as soon as my nose reached his bush he filled my stomach
with the second load in minutes.
     "Thanks Jonathan," Pierre said.  I kissed him, let him taste his own
cum and he smiled wide.  "Would you like to fuck me?"
     I looked down at the just turned fourteen almost hairless body and was
about to say no when my cock sprung to attention and he smiled.  Pierre
pushed me onto my back and straddled my hard cock.  He guided my still
moist cock up his love hole and as I passed through his sphincter he threw
back his head and howled.  When he was seated I rubbed his tits.
     "You are beautiful Pierre, a really beautiful body and face."
     "A hot hole too?"
     Pushing myself up our lips joined again.  "A very hot hole, now ride
my cock Pierre."
     Ride it he did, but it was a slow ride in which he mixed short and
long strokes at an agonizingly slow pace.  After thirty minutes I was
begging him to let me shoot my load up his ass.
     It was another ten minutes before he began to pick up the pace.  By
this time everyone else was standing around us, cock in hand watching us.
     Suddenly he touched his cock for the first time and he shot a load
over my chest and face.  When the first drop hit my lips I licked it and
exploded up his chute.  My fourth load of the night was the biggest.
     Instead of applauding eleven loads of cum splattered all over us as I
kissed Pierre deeper and harder than before.
     After we separated Joe picked me up and Barton plugged a porno tape
into his VCR.  It was one of the Czech ones so all the guys looked young,
even if they were eighteen or older.  Joe and I just cuddled in each others
arms as did Barton and Tony.  The others, well they were practicing what
they'd learned from the tape.
     Stya dropped Joe off at his house on the way home about noon on
Sunday.  We both had homework to do.  My first semester of school was
coming to a close and we had some major projects to finish before we
started with the major tests for the period.  What we had to hand in on
Monday was our architecture project.  Mr. Zephyr had assigned me a
particularly nasty one.  A five bedroom, seven bath brick and stucco house
on no more than two levels with a full size pool, tennis court, hot tub and
a Russian steam bath on a five acre-wooded site with a stream running
through it.  I had to leave as many trees standing as possible and could
not reroute the stream.  Oh, and it wasn't a flat lot either.
     Joe got to do a two-family, three story house with a garage out back.
     I know, I know, but it still isn't fair.
     Anyway around ten Sunday night I called Stya in to take a look.
     "You know I can't do it for you son," Stya said.
     "Dad, I just want you to take a look and tell me if I really messed
anything up.  Be a good daddy and help your son with his homework.  Please
daddy," I said.
     "OK, but move your buns so daddy can sit in front of the monitor."
     I wiggled them as I rose and he swatted them playfully.  As I looked
over his shoulder feelings of regret, of missing pieces began to flow into
me.  I put my head on his shoulder and arms around his neck.  Stya turned
and kissed me lightly on the cheek, put his hand over mine.
     "I know," he said.  And I knew he did, and it was enough to make me
feel better.  We stayed like that for a couple of minutes before he started
moving the drawings and renderings around again.  While he was in the
master bedroom he made a couple of small clicks and it suddenly looked
better.
     "Why did you move the bed and window?"  I said.
     "You tell me," Stya said and squeezed my hand.
     "This way they look out at the backyard instead of the side and have a
view of the pool and tennis court.  Plus the television cabinet is between
the windows with less problems from outside light."
     "Cool, so what do you think?"
     "Great job, but you ignored any wetlands problems."
     "Sure, none were in the problem."
     "In real life?"
     "This is school dad, not real life."
     "Save it, print it out while I get a couple of sodas."
     I was closing down the program and removing the floppies as he
returned with two glasses and a handful of Oreos.
     "Open up Word," Stya said, munching on a cookie as I did.  "Title it
'What I want to buy friends and family for Christmas.'"
     "Oh shit, I've never done this before.  Hey, when do I get to write
Santa?" I said.
     "It is better to give than to receive, so you'll do this list first."
     "OK, who do I have to buy for and how much do I have to spend?"
     "One weeks check," Stya said.
     "That's not even enough to get you something nice," I whined.
     "Not your allowance silly, one week's child support check."
     "I guess that'll be enough," I said.  After all Lamont is still giving
Stya two thousand a week, most of which goes into my saving and money
market accounts.  "But if I need more I'll ask you."
     Stya dropped a handful of cookies on my desk, "you have a half-hour,
then it's bedtime."
     I decided to start by listing the names.  Starting with Stya and Joe
of course.  Then grandpa and grandma, Joe's parents and brother, Eric,
Ton-Ton.  I hesitated for a second and added Lamont, after all he'd given
me perhaps my most valuable birthday present.  I felt funny about getting
Mr. Lowell something but put Ru and Ben on the list.  I also decided to
wait to see how to handle my aunts, uncles and cousins on Stya's side.
Aunt Celia, Great Uncle Paul and Cousin Paul on my mother's side.
     My mother's side, wow how great is it to write that?
     I saved the list and sat back to stare at the screen.  Loads of other
names ran through my head.  Names like Bo Swiftwater and Rod Altair,
teachers and classmates, Mike Snitz and guys from the Y.  My nephews, no, I
still hadn't met them.  I put in a page break and started listing names,
and names.  Then I remembered about Christmas cards and decided that a lot
of the names would just get those, and added some more names.
     I looked at the list and started to cry.  Thousands of different
emotions flooding through me.  From hell to all these people who meant
something positive in my life in just over a year.  As always joy and
bitterness, gratitude and hatred, thankfulness for the present and a vow
never to forget my history poured down my cheeks.  I looked over to the
picture of my mother and me on my first birthday and cried even harder.
     I think Stya heard me but he let me cry myself out this time.
     I showed him the list at breakfast the next morning and he said, "this
it?"
     "Did I leave somebody out?  I wasn't sure what to do with your
brothers and sister and their families.  I don't need to give Peter one do
I?  My nephews, I thought about them but I still haven't met them so I
didn't.  Would Lamont like it if I did?"
     "Time," Stya almost shouted.  "What I mean is you have a huge list
already, not that you should add to it.  Do you really expect to buy
presents for everybody here?"
     "No, some just cards, I mean nice cards, I know I can't buy everybody
something and have enough money for nice gifts for those I really want to.
Thing is I don't want to hurt anybody's feeling, especially this year since
it's my first Christmas.  Dad, what do I do?"
     "Eat your breakfast."
     "Dad," I said putting a dozen "a"s in the word.
     "I'm serious.  You are not going to be late for school.  The list is
fine for now.  Don't worry about my nephews and nieces, they're my
responsibility.  We'll go shopping this weekend, now eat your breakfast."
     "Yes daddy."

     Instead of going to the Longston Mall we went to the High Hills Mall
which is a little further away geographically and a lot further away in
price structure.  We went there not to be snooty and leave big price tags
on but because I really don't like going to Longston Mall all that much.  I
mean I've got good feelings about the place, but every time I'm there I see
something or someplace that reminds me of a trick.  Not to mention
occasionally seeing an old customer.
     It took us a half-hour just to find a parking space that wasn't in the
next town.  The first name on my list was Lamont.  We had just gotten our
class pictures back and I wanted a nice frame to put one in for him.  I
figured the last one he had of me I was just out of diapers.  After two
hours we had most of the people on my list completed and faced a line at
Hot Rod's Cafe stretching for miles in front of us for lunch.
     Suddenly Ru ran out of the entrance.  "There you are, we've been
wondering where you were.  Come on we just got seated."
     We hurried in as fifty tables worth of people glared at us.  I
squeezed in next to Ru and his twin brother Ben while Stya took an empty
chair from a nearby table and put it at the end of the booth.
     "Thanks, I would've starved to death by the time we'd gotten in here,"
I said.
     "Now that's a teenager talking," Mr. Lowell said.
     "Here he complains we don't eat enough, at home it's we're eating him
into the poor house," Ru grumbled and we all laughed.
     After we all devoured our hot dog platters it was decided that Ru, Ben
and I would go by ourselves and meet them by Nordstrom's lower level
entrance in two hours.
     "Now stay together at all times, and you know my cell phone number if
you need us," Mrs.  Lowell said as we hurried away.
     "Sorry, she always worries like that when she can't see us," Ben said.
     "Actually, I think it's nice," I said.
     I could see Ben thinking about this as we walked toward Babbage's.
While he hadn't
 gotten the brunt of it that day at the ball game he knew the story.  But
I'd also found myself ignoring Stya when I was around my friends in public,
and praying he wouldn't embarrass me.
     "Yeah, it is kind of nice," Ben finally said as we walked into the
store.
     Greg, Joe's brother, had given me the name of two games he really,
really, really wanted but knew his parents wouldn't buy because they were
too violent for a little kid.  The pleading in his voice had been so cute.
I found them and looked at the pictures of blood spattered people shooting
each other that filled both covers.  I also saw the "M-V-A" stickers and
put them both down fast.  They were too violent for me much less a
ten-year-old whose parents I needed to stay on the good side of.  Instead I
bought a game that let you build your own roller coasters, and from what
I'd seen in commercials it could be scary enough.  Besides I think there
are some amusement parks somewhere in the Sorrel empire.
     "Let's go to the toy store," Ben said as we finally exited the store.
     "No, I want to get my gift for Stya when he's not around," I said.
     "So do I, just follow us," Ben said.
     So I did and followed them into the Sharper Image.  "What kind of toy
store is this?"
     "Toy's for men who love gadgets," said a voice from behind.  We turned
and there was Paul Giladee.  "Hi Jon, how are you?"
     "Fine, these are my friends Ru and Ben.  Their father is Stya's
partner."
     "Glad to meet you, I'm Jon's long lost cousin Paul.  You looking for
something for Stya?"
     "Yeah, I'd like it to be something he'll remember and use."
     "I've got just the thing, if you've got enough money," Paul said.
     "Lead on," I said and he led us toward the back of the store.  The
four of us just looked at it for five minutes.  Ben kept changing
positions, I was positive he was going to stand on his head.
     "It's cool," Ru said, "what is it?"
     An almost five foot by three foot collection of flashing neon lights,
radio & cd player and pinball game.  I finally spotted the button that set
the ball in motion and was about to press it when a voice spoke from
behind.
     "That is not a toy for children to play with."
     We turned and this balding, beer-bellied man in a wrinkled blue suit
with a red tie and name tag that said "Nathaniel" stood behind us.
     "Well, if I can't try it out then I guess I can't buy it," I said.
     "Boy, that costs three hundred dollars plus tax.  Do you have that
much money?"  Nathaniel said in as condescending a voice as he could dredge
up.
     Paul and I started laughing as I got my wallet and pulled four
one-hundred dollar bills out.  "I believe that will cover the cost.  Now
will you please get a salesperson to help us," I said.
     His eyes widened, "I am a salesperson."
     "Not ours, now please find someone who knows how to wait on customers
while I try out the game," I said as I turned my back on him and stuffed
the money and wallet back in my pocket.
     We had each tried one ball by the time the next salesman showed up.
     "Can I help you guys?  Hey Paul, what's up?"  The new salesman was
African-American, about seventeen, tall, thin and muscular.  His suit fit
him a let better too.
     "Cole, if I'd known you were working today I'd have looked for you."
     "No sweat, What did you do to poor Nate?"
     "Cole's a senior at my school, Beard.  Well my cousin here wanted to
try the game out and he came over and was as condescending and rude as you
could imagine.  Then when Jon pulled out more than enough money he almost
pissed in his pants.  I hope you didn't promise him part of the
commission."
     "I did, but he's not getting it now.  I may even tell the manager
later.  Nate's always snotty to people he thinks don't belong in this mall.
Anyway, Jon my name's Cole Porter, and my father does claim to be related."
     "Jonathan Sorrel, and so does mine," I said.
     "Let's see, Norm insulted a Sorrel and a Giladee in one breath.  Man
is the manager going to love that.  Now how do you like it?"
     "Cool, I'm not sure what dad will say but I'm going to take it.  Can
you take care of wrapping and shipping it?"
     "No problem, and you'll get a new one from the back and not this demo.
Comes with a warranty and everything.  Let's take care of the paperwork."
     When we walked out of there we had to run to meet our parents but I
had all my major presents taken care of except for Joe, and I still had
plenty of money left over for that.
     Paul came with us and took the blame for us being "five hours" late
without being prompted.  We separated and dad and I went back to our car.
     "And don't you ever roll your eyes at me again," dad said.
     "Me, would I do something like that?"  I said as I rolled my eyes.
"But I'm glad you're not that bad, especially in public."
     "Did you buy anything else?"
     "Oh, I crossed a couple more names off my list, all I've got left is
Joe and I even have some money left over too."
     "Good, tomorrow we do my shopping," Stya said.
     "Dad, come on, how can you buy me tons of things if I'm with you?"
     "There are other people on my list, some of whom I could use your help
with."
     "All right," I said and slumped back in the seat, and we both started
giggling.

     Monday night after supper there was another first in my life.  Stya
and I bought our Christmas tree and put it up in the living room.  Nothing
fancy just some long strings of light and an angel on top.  While I was
climbing up the ladder he told me a joke about why the angel is on top of
the tree.  I started laughing so hard I almost fell off the ladder but got
the little guy securely in place with the stick up his hole.  After the
tree we put some electric candles in the front windows and were done.
     There's a house at the other end of the block where they've been
working on the outdoor display for a month already.  Flying reindeer on the
roof, Santa's workshop on one side wall and circles on the other.  In the
back is a blue waterfall and a whole bunch of other things all over the
house and lawns.  It's amazing and Stya says he can't compete with it so he
doesn't bother trying.  I think he's also turned off by it a little bit.
So we keep it simple, but anything is more than I've ever had before.

     The next two weeks leading up to Christmas were hectic.  Between
homework, tests, projects and papers there was hardly any time to plan the
First Annual LAGSSA Holiday party.  Fortunately we had the two hottest
couples in the group volunteer to take care of it, Betty and Michael and
Terry and Jeremy.  After long debate we decided to hold it after school the
Tuesday before vacation was to start, and invite the whole school.
Mr. Zephyr let Joe and me out of our last period class so we could help the
four of them decorate and set up the cafeteria.
     Within minutes of the final buzzer students, faculty and even some
parents started pouring into the room.  Fortunately we had stockpiled a ton
of snacks and drinks because the room ended up packed tighter than lunch
time.  After a half-hour Tony started playing music and we moved some of
the tables aside and the dance floor rapidly filled up with same and
opposite-sex couples.  When Tony switched to a slow song and I dragged Joe
out from behind the refreshment table and onto the dance floor.
     Our two bodies tight together, moving with the rhythm of the music.
Joe picked my head off his shoulder and our lips met, and stayed together
till the end of the song.  Or at least I think it was the end of that song,
but it could have been the next.

     That night after I finished my last report before the holidays I
logged on to check my email and my hopes for the holidays began to crumble.
     At the top of the list was one from PeteS with the subject of "From
Brother Pete: Urgent."
     Hesitantly I double clicked on it.
     Jon;
     I know we haven't talked or written since last summer, and I guess
that's more my fault than yours.  I'm an outpatient at the rehab center now
as well as seeing a private psychiatrist to take care of the other
problems.  No, I've got to say it, to deal with the years of sexual abuse
and what I did to you.  I'm living home and I feel happy there for the
first time in decades it seems.  Dad and I are spending real time together
in at least that long.
     Why did I say "urgent?"  Well, look I don't like this any more than
you're going to but David and Robert are coming home for the holidays and
we all will be at Aunt Celia's for the Christmas Eve party.  I don't know
what they're going to try and do while they're here.  Dad and I knew we had
to warn you and Stya and I asked dad to let me write you.
     You and I really are on the same side now.
     Love,
     Pete.

     I read it twice more with terror and hate building inside me.
     "Daddy," I bellowed.
     Stya came running and followed my finger to the screen.  Considering
how fast a reader he is he must have read it at least three times as well.
     "Holy shit Jon, I swear I didn't know anything about this."
     "I know dad."
     "We can cancel."
     "No fucking way am I hiding from them.  I deserve to be at that party
a hell of a lot more than they do," I said as I clicked on the reply
button.
     Pete;
     Glad things are going better for you.
     Thanks for the warning, see you at the party.
     Jon.
     I looked at it and put a blank space before my name and added: Your
brother.
     Another look and I hit the send button and looked up at Stya.
     "Proud of you son.  Tomorrow I'll call Lamont and make sure they're
only in for the holidays.  I guess he couldn't stop them from coming home
for them."
     "Ask him if their wives know.  They've kept me from my nephews but I
don't want those fucking, goddamned, son-of-a-bitch bastards starting on
them."
     "Your right, without you and Peter to abuse God only knows what
they'll do.  But what are you going to do Friday night?"
     I stared at the message and thought about it until the screen saver
I'd created from pictures I'd downloaded started.  They were nice and
pleasant shots of near-naked boys.  When my cock started rising I turned to
Stya.
     "Same as Thanksgiving, hang with my lover and cousin and watch the
little ones run around.  Like the last time, be polite to the ass holes and
wait for them to make the first move."
     "Going to warn Joe and Paul?"
     "Oh yeah, I'm not that brave," I said.
     "Good, and you know I think I'll call Lamont now since we don't know
when the pricks are coming in.  Besides I think your prick needs
attention."
     I stood and we kissed, a nice father and son kiss as we hugged.  I
remembered the times when Stya would have taken care of my prick before
making the phone call.
     And was glad they were gone.
     While Stya called Lamont I called Joe and filled him in on the latest
developments.
     "Holy shit," Joe said when I finished.  "You sure you want to go to
the party?"
     "Hell yes, they fucked up my life for long enough.  I'm not letting
them do it again.  Do you mind calling Paul and letting him know the story,
the whole story.  Tell him I need him on and by my side Friday night."
     "Of course I will.  I love you Jonathan Sorrel."
     "I love you Joseph Werner."

     The next two days are sort of a blur.  With all my tests and papers
done my biggest mental battle was keeping my mind from anticipating what
would happen at the party.  They had to have a plan.  I doubted it was just
because they wanted to see their wives and sons for Christmas.  What really
confused me was that I couldn't see how they would benefit by getting
revenge on me and Stya.
     You see what I mean?
     Christmas Eve dawned with a light snow falling.  Well dawn might not
be the right word, and there was already two inches on the ground when I
finally crawled out of bed just before noon.  It was beautiful out there.
Next door Mr. Wilson was having a snowball fight with his two young sons.
Suddenly his oldest son, who just turned fourteen, popped out from behind a
tree and started belting his father with snowballs.
     Then Mrs. Wilson came out acting mad and soon all four men were
pelting her.
     I stood there laughing and enjoying the simple scene.  For once I felt
no pain at something I'd missed.
     Instead I got dressed, went downstairs, grabbed my coat and Stya's and
dragged him outside.  Once there I ran off, made a snowball and heaved it
at him.  Seconds later we were both covered in wet snow.  Within minutes
the five Wilson's were over the fence and it became a grownups vs. the kids
battle royal.  By the time it was over there were big grass spots in some
places and mounds of snow in others.  Finally Mrs.  Wilson called timeout
and invited us over for hot chocolate and cookies.
     The four of us kids yelled yes and started running over.  As we
reached the fence we were belted with one last barrage of snowballs.  Well
the last from them if you get the idea.
     After a few hours of hot chocolate, video games, lunch and video games
Stya and I headed home to get ready for the party.  I took a long shower
and then walked into my closet.  I went over to the far back corner and
took out the leather jacket I'd taken the night I escaped.  For a minute I
considered returning it to them along with something like: "Here's the
jacket I took the night I ran away after you and your forty friends fucked
me all night."
     But decided it wasn't the right thing to do to Aunt Celia.  Though I
had the feeling that if she knew she would be more vicious than I could
even imagine.  I hung the jacket back up and picked out my new dark gray
suit and matching shirt with a deep lavender tie.  Then changed another
couple of times before I ended up with the suit, black shirt and matching
gray tie.
     We waited until Mr. Werner called from the car that they were pulling
onto her block.  Not that I thought they'd try something at the beginning,
but I just wanted my lover there for when Stya and I had to go our separate
ways.
     Blazing multicolored lights pushed away the darkness from the front of
the house.  Aunt Celia and Uncle Paul were just inside the main entrance
greeting everybody with a kiss and a handshake.  Though to be honest I got
a hug from Aunt Celia as well.
     "Be strong," she whispered into my ear and I wondered how much she
knew.  "Joe's still in the main room with his parents.  I think they're
talking with Lamont."
     "Are my half-brother's here yet?"
     "Peter came with your father.  The others will be around later."
     "Come on young man, stop monopolizing my date," Uncle Paul said.
     I shook my great-uncle's hand and followed Stya into the main room.
Sure enough the four Werners were talking with Lamont and Peter.  Peter saw
us first, smiled and waved us over.
     "Hi father, Peter, Mr. & Mrs.  Werner, Greg, Joe," I said.
     "Excuse us for a minute," Lamont said and motioned me to follow him.
I followed him out of the room and into a deserted sitting room.
     "Hi son, glad you came," Lamont said.
     "I wasn't going to let them stop me.  They stole enough of my life,
I'm not letting them take anything away from me again."
     "Good, that's the way it should be.  I couldn't stop them from coming
home."
     "I know father, besides their sons deserve to see them once a year," I
said, though I really didn't mean it.
     "And I told their wives.  At first they didn't want to believe me.
Then I played the copy of the tape and Peter came in and confirmed
everything.  Begged their forgiveness, pleaded with them not let to let his
brothers alone with the boys for a minute," Lamont said.
     "Did they remember me?"
     "Yes, turns out Robert and David told them you were slow and
emotionally unstable and that's why you were kept locked upstairs.  They
didn't even know you were gone."
     "Are my nephews coming tonight?" I said.
     Lamont shook his head.  "But once your brothers go back we'll try and
arrange for you to meet them."
     "Cool."
     There was a knock on the door and Peter poked his nose in.  "They're
here.  Just walked in."
     "Come on Jon, let's go say hello to the brats," Lamont said.
     I nodded.  "Is Joe still in there Pete?"
     "You think he's going anyplace without you?  I hope I get as lucky as
you one day," Pete said.
     I stared at him and he finally got it and we started laughing.
     Which really pissed the older two off when they saw us emerge from the
room together.
     "I told you we'd make it on time father," David said.
     "The old place is still amazing," Robert said.  "I'm glad you're
finally back in the old girl's good graces."
     "And who is this young man father?"  David said.
     "David," was all Lamont said.
     "Sorry, just teasing.  But you do look like a whole different person
Fido."
     "He's dead," I said.
     "Both of you, behave or you'll be back on the next plane back to the
U.A.E."
     "Sorry father, sorry Jonathan, but you do look a lot different,
better, than before," David said.
     "Yeah Jonathan, I really am glad that things are working out for you,"
Robert said.
     I sensed my fist beginning to form and forced myself to relax.  I knew
neither one of them really meant the nice things, and the "Fido" proved
that.  Just trying to get back into Lamont's good graces.  And I wasn't
about to help them out.
     "Thank you Robert, that's kind of you.  But I've got to be honest with
both of you.  If you are looking for forgiveness, forget about it.
Cordiality is all I can come up with right now."
     David's face reddened but Robert grabbed his arm.  "I understand,
really."
     David yanked his arm free and stormed away.  We all watched him leave.
I saw Joe and jerked my head toward the children's room.
     "I'll see you at supper," I said and moved away.
     "Jonathan," Robert said and I turned to him.  "I really am happy that
you're getting your life back."
     I nodded.  Trying to believe him, but falling short.

     Once safely inside the children's room I looked around and saw the mob
of children running and playing.  I wondered if Aunt Celia used the room
for anything else.  Paul was in our corner saving chairs for me and Joe.  I
looked for Joe and his hand took mine and we walked over.
     "How are you?"  Joe asked once we were seated.
     "Fine, I know I pissed David off and I don't know if Robert was being
sincere or just saying the right things in front of father.  But while I
felt the hatred I had no desire to do anything stupid."
     "Where did they go?"  Joe said.
     "With Lamont I guess, David stormed off to the bar first."
     "Jon," Paul started, then stopped.
     "What?"
     "I know I don't have to but I want to apologize, say I'm sorry about
everything."
     "Paul, you."  I stopped when he shook his head.
     "I talked to my parents after Joe called Tuesday night.  They told me
they were told you were emotionally traumatized by your mom's death and you
had to be kept locked up for your own and everybody else's protection.  The
only times they remembered seeing you was at your brothers' weddings and
they said you looked drugged."
     "Not drugged, just emotionally dead.  Plus they threatened to kill me
if I said or did anything.  Knew they would too."
     "Dad said if they'd known he would have talked to Lamont, tried to do
something," Paul shrugged.
     I leaned back and closed my eyes.  How to answer?  Then the mantra I'd
taught myself, Ton-Ton and Jeff flashed in my mind.
     "Paul, it wasn't my fault, your fault or your parent's fault.  My
brothers did it, my parents allowed it.  It's their fault, and they know
it.  In their own ways they're even paying for it.  Lamont and Peter even
acknowledge their sins.  But while you and everybody else here might have
been duped by my stepmother you guys are here for me now, when I need you."
     "Thanks, the mind knows that," Paul said.
     "But the hearts a son-of-a-bitch," Joe finished and we all laughed.
     "Have you given Stya his present yet?"  Paul asked.
     "No, and thank Cole for me, it came like two days later when Stya was
at work and he's been staring at it under the tree ever since.  Grandpa,
grandma and I think Uncle Boris and crew are coming over for brunch and
we're going to wait till then."
     "Do you know what he got you?" Joe said.
     "As Uncle Sam says, 'don't ask, don't tell.'"
     "Ouch," Joe said.
     "The pain, the agony," Paul said and we all started laughing.
     After a half-hour Ton-Ton, Joe's brother Greg and Paul's brother John
came racing over and jumped on our laps.
     "What's up?"  Paul said.
     "We want to play bumper pool but the other kids won't give us a
chance," Greg said.
     "Yeah," the other two boys said.
     "What do you want us to do about it?"  Joe said.
     "You're grownups know, kick them off," John said.
     "Yeah," the other two boys said.
     "We're grownups?" I said.
     "You eat with them therefore you are one," Ton-Ton said.
     "Yeah," the other two boys said.
     "Yeah," the three of us said as we stood, dumping them on the ground.
     They picked themselves up and ran after us.  There were four kids at
the table and I saw they were just racking the balls.
     "Larry, Bruce, come on, give my brother and his friends a chance,"
Paul said.
     "Come on Paul, they can't even see over the table," one of them said.
     "Funny, you didn't like that argument three years ago."
     "Yeah, but it worked."
     "But this time they have a grownup to back them up," Paul said.
     "OK, OK, one game and then we get the table back."
     "Two Bruce," John said.
     "Fine, now do you babies need footstools to see over the table?"
Bruce said and got clipped on the back of his head for his troubles.
     As the second game ended the single tone sounded signaling it was time
for the kids to go to their dining room.  We looked at the suddenly empty
table and started our own game.  And before you wonder how I did, can you
imagine me not doing well in something involving balls and long cylindrical
objects?

       When the double tone sounded Paul suggested it was now time to make
sure all the electric games were turned off.  Which we did, slowly.  By the
time we entered the main room just about everybody had gone into the formal
dining room.  We headed to the table with the seating chart when a figure
turned from the bar.
     "There you are, you little whore bastard," David said.
     "Just keep moving," Joe whispered.
     "I didn't say you could go Fido.  Come here, drop your pants.  I'm
going to fuck you right here and now."
     The three of us kept moving toward the door and I saw Stya and Eric
coming our way.
     I felt David's hand on my shoulder and I whirled and in seconds he was
on the ground holding his crotch.  I felt my leg beginning to swing back.
     "Don't," Stya said and somehow I regained control of my body in time.
     "Let's go in, I know where our table is," Paul said almost like
nothing unusual had happened.
     We started into the dining room again, but this time it was Paul who
stopped.  Turned around and bent over David.
     "You son-of-a-bitch bastard," Paul said and then spit in David's face.
     I saw the tears streaming down Paul's face and hugged him.  "Thanks,"
I whispered.  "You all right?"
     He nodded, and this time we made it into the dining room and to our
seats.  Stya went over and whispered into Lamont's ear.  Lamont turned red
and Stya put an arm on his shoulder as he continued whispering.  When he
was finished Lamont looked around till he spotted me and gave a thumbs up.
     I looked around till I saw Robert.  He was sitting with two women.  I
guessed one was his wife, and the other, looking madder by the minute, must
be David's.
     There was a clear ping and I saw Aunt Celia tapping the glass in front
of her.  The crowd fell silent.
     "Paul and I want to thank everyone for coming today.  Today we
celebrate the birth of a man who gave so much good to the world.  As we sit
here today surrounded by family and friends let us think of how much good
we can do for each other and move past the hurt that has been done to us.
Those of us who have hurt others in this room know we have to work to gain
their forgiveness and trust, not expect it to be freely given.  Paul will
lead us in prayer.

     They were clearing away the fruit cocktails when David staggered into
the room.  "Where is he?" he bellowed.
     The three of us started sinking under the table.  I saw Eric holding
Stya down and then heard a chair falling over.
     "I'm taking you home before you embarrass me some more," a woman's
voice snapped.
     "Not until," David said and stopped at the sound of a loud crack.
     "Now, and I'm driving.  You're drunk."
     I sat back up and saw her dragging him out of the room.  Robert was
talking to his wife about something but they didn't move.
     Lamont rose from his seat at the front table.  "I want to apologize to
all of you for my son's behavior.  Please, let us all recapture the spirit
of the holidays."
     "He shouldn't have done that," I said.
     "Your father wasn't talking to them, he was talking to you," Paul
said.
     I turned to Joe and he nodded.
     I barely touched my soup and salad as I fought tears and hatred,
bitterness and thoughts of revenge.
     Finally Joe grabbed my head and turned it toward him.  "You are
letting those bastards win.  They are ruining your first Christmas and I
won't let them do that.  I want a smile and a real kiss.
     Before I could smile he had his lips on mine and I felt the sadness
evaporate.  When we broke I smiled, a real smile.  Then I heard some gasps
from around the room.
     "As I always told my brother Eric," Aunt Celia said, "there's too many
clothes and too much junk in the closets for people to hide in."
     I stood and dragging Joe behind me went up and we hugged Aunt Celia.
     "Now, now boys, go back to your seats and behave yourselves."
     "Yes Aunt Celia," we said.
     We did behave ourselves and the rest of the meal went quickly and
quietly.
     After the party Joe had to go home with his parents.  I lay awake for
hours.  Not crying, just staring at the ceiling.  Finally I got up, walked
through the connecting door, got into bed with Stya and tucked myself under
his arm.
     My dad kissed his son's neck and we were asleep in seconds.
     I woke in an empty bed and after a quick piss I put on a pair of sweat
pants and my robe and headed down the steps.  There were a ton of presents
under the tree.  A lot more than when we'd left for the party the day
before.
     As I hit the doorway a chugging noise started followed by a whistle.
Slowly moving toward me from behind the tree was a model railroad.  I
hurried over and knelt, watching it go round and round.  The brightly
wrapped presents were invisible.
     "Merry Christmas son," Stya said as he sat behind me, placing a box on
the floor.
     "Merry Christmas dad," I said and gave him a hug and a kiss.  "It's
beautiful, I love it."
     "Dad got it for me the Christmas I was eight.  Played with it for
years, and there's a lot more we can set up.  As I grew older I wanted to
save it to give to my son.  When I realized I was gay the hardest thing to
get over was that I would never have a son to give it too.  Then you came
into my life."
     I didn't know what to say, but I knew what to do.
     I sat between dad's legs, picked up the control box.  "Show me how to
use it daddy."
     He reached around me and took my hands.

     New Years Day, a new year, a new century, a new millennium.
     I awaken to Joe wrapped in my arms.  Ton-Ton alongside us.  Eric and
Stya in dad's room.  Knowing Robert was heading back on today's plane to
the U.A.E. for another year.
     That David was in county jail for the attempted rape of three boys.
And Lamont wasn't trying to get him out on bail.