Date: Sat, 25 Jun 2005 13:16:52 -0400 (EDT)
From: T Chase <survivalgame@excite.com>
Subject: Nature Walk 46

The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any
resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not
meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental
areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes involving male to
male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story.
Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and
countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't
forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom?

"Nature Walk" 46 (M/t oral anal punishment 'Squirts')
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Oh, think nothing of it, Barry. I'm used to eating buffet style," Wes
McAllister extended his compliments, with the eating arrangements.

"How's the ribs, Chad? Can I get you anything?"

"No, dad. Since Matty got home, I've had my own personal servant!"

Barry smiled, along with Wes. Steve had been detained by the first meeting
of the WRHS gay alliance, walking in the front door. He flung his briefcase
onto the sofa, loosened his tie, then proceeded on into the kitchen.

"Don't forget to wash your hands, dad," Eric reminded him.

"Yeah... yeah..." Steve replied, giving his son a hug.

Steve fake punched his other son, Denis, in the shoulder, saying, "How's it
going?"

"Okay, dad."

Steve messed up his 'stepson's', Tom's and Mark's hair, as a sign of
'hello'. He stopped at the kitchen table to greet the 'Squirts'.

"And how was your day, Aidan?"

"Good dad."

Steve could tell something different, but his stomach told him to find out
later. Reporting to the sink he began washing his hands.

"You know, Steve, Jade screams at the kids for doing that!"

Stopping, as if frozen in place, his hands under the faucet, Steve looks at
Catherine.

Grinning, he replies to her rough accusation, "Okaaaay, I'll go upstairs."

Catherine shakes her head, as Steve wipes his wet paws on his shirt. He
figures they are clean enough and picks out some food from the
countertop. He heads out onto the porch and into the conversation at hand.

"Chad, how're you doing, son?"

Chad smiled. It's honestly the first time he's heard Steve call him 'son'.

"Fine, 'dad'," he smiles at Steve, whom returns the friendly greeting.

Barry says, "See what Chad has to go through so that we can see him once in
a while?"

Chad could've remarked in a sarcastic manner, but, as he told Matty this
morning, he couldn't escape the facts.

"You're right, dad."

"I am?" Barry questioned, not expecting the returned criticism in his
favor.

Matty helps Chad out, "We discussed that this morning and I think Chad
atones for his absence."

Steve complains, "Well at least you have a son that realizes the err of his
ways."

Barry makes a mental note to have a talk with Sean.

Then Steve reconciles, "I guess the important aspect is that Chad's alive
and kicking."

Matty quips, "I'll let you know how it goes tonight!"

They all break out in laughter, including Chad, sitting across from Matty
at the picnic styled table. He stares at Matty, his toed sneaker pressing
up between his lover's legs.

"Okay, I'm sorry, alright," he says softly, as the others talk.

Chad grins, moving his eyebrows up and down. Matty speeds a lost pea across
the table with a ping of his finger. Chad, who is barechested, except for
the bandages across his ribs, looks down at seeing the green devil lodged
between his pecs and the loose fitting doctoring up.

"Two points!" Matty says.

"Wait'll I score later," Chad carried on the private joke.

%

"Your harp, Philip? That all you can think about? What about my trumpet?"
Tom Barr says, sidetracking his brother's conversation with the group.

"And my trombone," sixteen year old Mark Barr adds.

"You guys play all those instruments?" Denis questions.

Two minutes later, the back porch, where the dads escaped the youthful
chatter, buzzed with their sons' rantings.

"Daddy, can I learn how to play the piano?" Nine year old Diego questioned.

"Yeah and I want flute lessons," Aidan badgered his father.

It went on up the line of ages. Fourteen year old Eric Clark wanted to
learn the trombone, because 'his' Mark played it. It's no secret to them
all that even though Mark was sixteen, Eric liked hanging with him. Denis
Clark, a few months older than Mark Barr, shot out with wanting soprano sax
lessons.

"I guess you're never too old to learn," Steve relayed to the group.

Barry paused at a forkful of beans to add, "Never Steve. Look how much I've
learned about you!"

Of course Barry meant that in a more personal manner, but the excite of the
boys completely overshadowed the remark.

"Can I dad? Can I?" Rang throughout the room, from everyguy.

"Can I daddy?" Diego imitated the older boys. Then added Philip's
gesturing, the folded hands, begging, "Pleeeeeeease daddy?"

The dads brightened up, as Catherine's Irish dancing into the room, removed
the dollar signs in front of their eyes.  Even Alonzo became shocked, as
Callan rose up from the table, took his twin sister as a partner, hands on
his hips, doing a Michael Flatley impression, along with her. Barry
remembered an Irish tune that Philip had practiced over and over on the
harp, and belted it out, as accompaniment.

"O the days of the Kerry dancing, O the days of the piper's tune, O for one
of those hours of gladness, gone alas like our youth too soon. When the
boys began to gather in the glen of a summer night and the Kerry piper's
tuning, make us long with wild delight."

Then Catherine and Callan joined in on the chorus, with Barry, "O to think
of it, O to dream of it, fills my heart with tears."

Catherine stole Jade from the sidelines, to become her partner. Callan
tapped Alonzo on the shoulder. Alonzo rose to dance, his two left feet
apparent. Aidan tried following Philip, in humming the tune, as Barry
continued on to verse two.

"Was there ever a sweeter Callan (he changed the name from Colleen!), in
the dance than Alonzo Romano (again, nixing the Eily More), Or a proder lad
than Chaddy (it rhymed with the original 'Thady') as he boldly took the
floor. 'Lads and lassies, to your places, up the middle and down again',"
Barry encouraged the boys all up to dance, "And the merry-hearted laughter
ringing through the happy glen. O to think of it, O to dream of it, fills
my heart with tears."

Some remembered the chorus, but surely, Catherine, Callan and Barry rung
out the words, "O the days of the Kerry dancing, O the fing of the piper's
tune, O for one of those hours of gladness, gone alas like our youth too
soon!"

Even though the cold spring licked the outside walls, the back porch
windows steamed from the activity within.

Callan asked Alonzo, "What was that you threw in there?"

"Nothing like a little Irish Salsa!" Replied Alonzo, doing his Latino kick.

Everyone gave Barry a round of applause for a well sung rendition of the
ever-popular Irish drinking song.

"You still have it, dad!" Chad congratulated his father.

When things settled down, erasing the blurts of boys wanting to take up
instrumental studies, Steve asked, "What did Chad mean by his remarks,
Barry?"

"Oh nothing."

"Sounded like something to me and you know, you do have a beautiful tenor
voice, hon?"

"I sang in the choir from when I was a little boy until... hmm, come to
think of it, I never stopped til we left New Jersey!"

Barry sat there, looking back over his years, his elbow on the table, with
his chin sitting in his palm. Steve, being funny, broke his reverie, by
knocking his elbow out of whack.

"Heeeey!"

"Did I disturb something?"

"Noooo. Just thinking over my yesterday's a little."

Chad says, "Go ahead, dad. Tell 'dad'.." then relying on the kiddie version
of addressing the dads, "tell dad-Steve about your singing days, dad!"

Getting the flattery, Barry opened up to Steve, which slowly made others
stop to listen. Soon they all began to take in his life musical history.

"Well, yes, the church used to go to the choir festival at Ocean Grove once
a year, plus other choral festivals."

"Dad," Mark interrupted, "tell them about those two guys we saw on the
street, in Asbury Park, kissing!"

The Barr boys laughed at the aspect.

"Yeah," Philip began to retell the facts, "We didn't know our dad was gay
then and when mom said it was 'estreamly discusting', dad agree with
her. Remember you did, dad?"

Barry shook his head, 'yes', then replied, "Yeah, okay you've got me
there. I know I said it."

Mark says, "You called them a couple of faggots, dad!"

Steve blurts out, grinning, "My how the tide turns!"

This brought the house down, in humor fashion, that is.

Barry said, "Yeah, now I find myself in love with a faggot!"

They all laughed, except Steve, whom took the comment in a more loving
sense. They played footsie under the table, as the commotion
continued. None of them, except Catherine noticed Jade leaving the room, so
she followed. Returning, three high school aged guys stood in her company,
with a man. Jade couldn't get the crowd wound down, so Catherine let out a
shrieking whistle that would wake the dead. Silence prevailed.

"Chad, you've got some company," Catherine brashly annouced.

Chad got up from the table, immediately falling to his butt, wincing.

"Heeey, ya gotta watch it, Chad," Matty immediately rose up and went over
to him, henpecking him.

Steve, sitting next to Chad got up, too, to help Chad get off his butt to
stand. The adult male, extricated himself from the small crowd and came
over by the table. Barry recognized the him right away, as he came forward.

"Coach Martin?" Barry asked, reaching out his hand for the shaking.

"Yeah. I hope I'm not disturbing anything," Coach Martin replied, taking
Barry's greeting.

"No, we're finishing up."

"The guys on the track team 'wanted' to come over and wish Chad good
health."

That's not the way Barry, nor Steve, or the others perceived it. They
weren't bubbling over with camaraderie. That is, none except one, whom
approached Chad.

"Hey, sorry about the... um..." Albert Fagan decided not to mention too
much as of yet, after surveying the large family gathering. "Sorry about
your accident, Chad."

"Thanks Albert," Chad replied, not knowing he shook the hand that had lent
injury to his gut.

"Um, is there a place where we can talk, alone?" Coach Martin asked.

"Boys, all homework finished up?" Alonzo took it at liberty to ask all of
them.

Some replied they hadn't finished up with their homework, others said they
had, but Eric and Mark wanted to get in a game of 'US Marine Corps'
Monopoly, which sparked the squirts into a Monopoly frenzy, blurting out
'Garfield' and 'Looney Tunes' versions of the game. But homework came
first. Alonzo and Callan checked up on them to make sure!

After the room cleared out, except that of Chad, Matty, Steve, Barry, Coach
Martin and three track jocks. Steve got up to open a window. Jade brought
out dishes and spoons, as Catherine hauled over containers of Bryers;
vanilla and chocolate, complete with scoop. Then they too vacated the room.

"Ice cream, fellas?" Steve asked.

Coach Martin took a large scoop of each. The only two who refused, nicely,
after being reminded with a stepped on foot under the table, were Paul
Foster and Chris Seaford.

"No thanks," Foster replied, followed by Seaford's, "No thank you."

"Chad," Albert Fagan began, placing his spoon in his bowl, "I know this
isn't going to be easy to say for me, especially after learning something
about myself this afternoon," Albert stopped to glance at Coach Martin,
"but I..." his head retreated from looking Chad in the face, to looking
into his swirling bowl of brown and white, then straigtened back up to face
Chad, "Dammit, Chad, I'm the one that worked you over this afternoon!"

Matty didn't take kindly to that and in a rush of love for Chad, swung got
up and swung his fist right into Albert's chin.

"You fuckin' what, you fuckin' bastard?" Matty accused.

Coach, Barry and Steve got up to stop the fighting. Actually, Albert had
resigned to sitting on the floor on his ass and taking the beating, if
that's it meant something to Matty. Some of the brown white had spilled
onto his tee shirt.

"Go ahead, man. Take your shot. I deserve it!" Albert called out, not
blaming Matty for his actions.

"No," Chad himself gained control of the situation, "that's not the way to
solve things. Matty?"

"Yeah, okay," Matty replied, settling himself down with the help of Barry,
whom sat next to him, a hand on Matty's shoulder.

Steve and Coach Martin helped Albert back into his chair.

Chad offered, "Here," extending Albert the use of a clean napkin, for his
creamy-stained tee shirt.

Albert continuing, "Chad, I'm not looking for forgiveness or anything like
that. In fact, I suspect that you will want to press charges and I'll go
along with whatever you decide."

Albert left his portion as is. The other two had mediocre answers. Paul
Foster noted the incident with a simple, 'sorry'. Chris Seaford had a
little more to say.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Chad that this whole thing had to come about because of
my... well, up until this afternoon, I guess you could call me a homophobic
guy."

Paul Foster wasn't siding with the two, but Albert whole-heartedly
acknowledged the label Chris put on the three of them.

Barry asked, "So, what you're telling us is that the three of you ganged up
on my son because your homophobic and after you worked over Chad, you
suddenly become cured? I don't buy that!"

Matty was the first to agree with Barry, then Steve and Chad joined in. The
three jocks, plus the coach of the track team knew what coming there to
Chad's home would mean. Maybe they figured telling their afternoon event in
the lockerroom would be easier telling to a group of gay guys, than an
unbiased police task force. Still, they chanced not being forgiving and the
results, as well.

"So?"

"They're putting it in your ballpark, guys," Coach Martin spoke up, fully
realizing that his three track members' opinions would matter, in their
'conversion', to complete the whole story.

"You tell them, Albert," Chris Seaford volunteered.

Paul Foster remained silent.

"Alright, this is the way it goes," Albert began detailing from when Coach
Martin entered the lockerroom.

When the part came to where Coach Martin struck Seaford, Chris said, "Oh
man can Coach throw a punch. I think my ass dented the locker!"

He didn't mean it to be funny and it didn't prevail as a much answered
joke. It cracked a couple of thinly worn smiles, but then the conversation
reverted back to Albert's telling.

"I'm not sure what happened in the shower, with Paul and I'm not expecting
Coach Martin to tell it, but what happened afterwards seemed to the turning
point. At least for my feelings. I snapped out of the gut punch Coach
planted in my stomach and stumbled to the back of the lockerroom. I heard
all this protesting. Coach had Paul, faced down, over the towel table, a
table where the towels for the showers are stacked. Coach must've pushed
them off onto the floor, to clear it for Paul. Anyway, it looks to me
like..."

Albert stopped, looking towards Coach Martin.

"Continue Albert."

"Yeah, but Coach?" Albert whined at the twenty-six year old sport's
authority.

They all could see that Coach was putting himself on the line here.

"Tell'm Fagan, dammit!"

Barry asked, "Are you doing this for Chad's benefit, Coach Martin or can we
skip this part and..."

"No, I.... just let the kid tell what happened."

"But Coach? Your reputation?" Chris Seaford questioned, knowing what the
outcome might spell.

"Just get it out, Albert," he overrided Seaford's feelings.

Chad tried one plea, himself, which Coach Martin denied rescinding his
efforts to get the truth out.

"Okay. Here goes. Sorry Coach. In fact..."

Albert Fagan, an eighteen year old high school senior came to grips with
the possibility of bringing down the repudiated coach, all because of his
own selfishness, for his own redemption.

As he continued, his voice began to crack, as he confessed,
"I... thought... well, Coach Martin stood there behind Paul, whom hadn't a
stitch of clothing on. Coach's cock was as hard as a rock, as he handled
it. I thought for sure he was going to fuck Paul."

Steve, Barry, Chad and Matty looked up at Coach Martin.

"Yeah, he's right," Coach Martin shrugged his shoulders, "it had been my
full intentions."

"But, I guess I had surprised Coach and something came over him, when he
saw me."

Again, gazes went back to Coach Martin, whom replied, "Yeah, I guess I let
my temper and actions get the best of me. I was so pardon my French,
fuckin' angry at these three and really in my own way, I wanted to teach
them a lesson, though I now realize there are no excuses for my actions."

Before two much silence engulfed the group, Albert cleared his throat and
continued, "Well, so," deriving from Coach's confession, "since Coach lost
it, he figured he would kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I was
still stunned from the workover he gave my stomach and he quickly
overpowered me. Subduing me, he reached around, took my cock and began
stroking it, til it was as hard as a rock. Then, even though I fought with
the capacities of reserves I had left, he forced my cock into Paul's ass."

Glances returned to Coach Martin, but also to Paul Foster.

Paul volunteered a short, "Yeah, that's what happened. Fuckin' hurt like
hell!"

"Then Coach used my arms, positioning them in a full nelson, then pressing
his pubes up against me, to drive my cock into Paul's ass, fucking him
over. The thing is, instead of repulsing me and wanting to pull
out... I... I loved the feeling... I... I wanted to fuck Paul... Chad.. I'm
sorry... I.."

The fringes of Albert's hair got in his bowl of ice cream, as his head fell
onto his arms, leaning on the table. He bawled like a baby. They all
watched Albert's demise, sinking into a crevice of guilt and anxiety. After
some moments, Albert had grieved enough tears. He lifted his head. It's
Matty who pushed a napkin into his face.

"Here. Take it."

With reluctance, Albert took the paper tissue, "Thanks, even though I don't
deserve it. I don't deserve anything from you guys. I'm willing to take
whatever punishment the law says I have to take."

Chad speaks up, saying, "We all make mistakes."

Looking to his dad, Chad catches a wink from him, then he turns back to
Albert, placing his hand on Albert's wet forearm.

"Y'know, fucking a guy doesn't mean your gay, Albert."

"I don't know about that Chad. I... I liked it and even after Coach fucked
Chris..."

That temporarily stopped the continued confession of events, as Albert told
the demeaning fact.

"Yeah, I admit it. I finally lost control and reamed Seaford's ass," Coach
Martin detailed for them, in a lowly voice.

"Can I say something here?"

Their attention was drawn to Chris Seaford.

"Look, I don't blame Coach Martin for what he done. I was just as guilty as
Albert and Paul for beating you up Chad. I... I'm not sure if I'm gay. I
don't know..."

Chris continued in his confessing, steering more towards his personal
feelings.

"I know it didn't feel half bad to get fucked in the ass or to fuck ass. I
never thought of myself as being in that position. All I was brought up to
do is hate fags and what they stand for. Chad, I'm really sorry, man. I
don't know what else to say."

Paul Foster says boldly, "Well, I ain't no faggot and I hated the whole
damn business. You better believe it when I tell my folks they're going to
want to press charges. You better start looking for another line of work,
coach!"

Matty brought up, "And you better start looking for another life, that is
after you get out of prison, Foster!"

A wakeup call hit the eighteen year old, "Prison?"

"Yeah, did you think Chad is going to forget about this, just because you
came here tonight to lay the facts on him?"

Paul Foster turned white, however Albert Fagan turned to the reality of the
situation.

"I didn't come here to plead for myself," Albert said. "In fact, after we
leave, I'm having Coach Martin drive me to the police station. I'm turning
myself in."

"That goes for me too," Chris decided.

"I'll only regret that it's going to strip Coach Martin of his dignity for
me to learn a lesson. Coach, I'm really sorry about this whole incident and
I don't blame you for anything you did. In fact, I owe you. I owe you
everything for what you showed me."

Albert began to get misty.

"Well," Steve began to say, then got interrupted by his son, Aidan.

"Dad, I need help with my homework!"

"Go ahead Steve," Barry motioned with his head.

"Let me know how it works out, please," Steve replied, rising up from his
seat and accompanying Aidan out of the room.

Before leaving the table, Steve patted Albert on the shoulder, saying,
"You've got a lot of guts."

Albert thanked him, not smiling, but acknowledging Steve's support.

"So," Barry, elected mediator, began, "Let's get the facts straight
here. It seems to me that we might just have a stalemate here."

"Stalemate?" Coach Martin questions Barry's choice of wording.

"Yes. On one hand, we have three boys jumping my son, Chad here," Barry
motions his hand towards his boy, "which could put Paul's, Chris' and
Albert's future in jeopardy." He further spelled out, "that would mean the
three of you most likely would be torn from the remainder of your Senior
year, jailed and face a long and lengthy trial..."

Chris broke in with, "Damn, I never thought of that!"

Coach Martin lectures, "You three most likely thought like idiots, not
weighing the outcome."

Chris and Albert fessed up to Coach's frank appraisal. Paul Foster just sat
there, stewing in his own frame of mind.

"Plus, it would mean total embarrassment of your families."

That got Paul Foster's attention.

"Fuck no! That would drive my dad insane. He'll fuckin' kill me!"

"Then I suggest," Barry strongly urged Paul, "to get up off your ass and
stop sulking about own fucking self," he plainly put it, trying to drive
the point across. "Do I have your attention, Foster?"

"Yeah," he replied, softly.

"I said do I have your fuckin' attention, Foster?"

More alertly, Paul Foster replied to Barry, "Yes, sir," straightening
himself up in the chair.

Ice cream in dishes had been reduced to cream, by the time Barry unloaded
some ideas on the three high school track team jocks and their coach. Time
flew by and soon Steve returned to the back porch.

"Mission accomplished. The boys are down," Steve reported, his shortcut
speech telling Barry that all the boys had gone to bed for the night.

Coach Martin glanced at his watch and mentioned, "Eleven thirty? Where did
the time go?"

Barry replied, "I think we better finish this now and not let it go another
day. So, boys, this is what I propose, but actually it depends on Chad's
call."

"Dad, I'll go with whatever you see fit."

"Alright then. Tomorrow morning I'll call out sick, along with you, Coach
Martin."

"By all means."

"When each of you boys gets home, you will relay the facts of what happened
to your parents, minusing the account of whatever took place in the
lockerroom with Coach Martin."

"But..."

"Here me out, please Coach Martin."

"Sure. Sorry to interrupt."

"Then you will each have your parents call me this evening, Paul, your dad
will call me at one am.."

"That's my stepdad."

"Regardless, he will call me at one."

"Yes, sir," Paul replied.

"Chris, have your dad call me a half hour later and Albert, your father at
two."

"I don't have a father. It would be just my mom."

Coach Martin says, "Oh, I didn't know that Albert."

"Yeah. She's going to be ex'treme'ly upset with me. I feel so bad about
upsetting her," Albert told them, showing remorse.

"Maybe I should come in with you while you explain."

"Would you do that for me, Coach?"

"Sure I would, Albert. Even though I had my outburst with you three guys
this afternoon, I care about you guys. I thought you knew that the first
time I gave you boys a warning about your gay attitude, that I cared about
keeping you boys out of trouble."

"Yeah," Paul Foster finally opened up, "too bad we didn't listen to you,
Coach. Now my stepdad is going to go ballistic on me!"

"Sorry," Chad meekly said to Paul.

"You sorry for me, Chad? That's fuckin' lunacy. I held you while Fagan
worked your gut over and you're giving me this shit?"

"Hey, let me tell you something, Foster," Chad became outspoken, "I may not
know what your up against at home, but my dad always taught me that you
don't fight fire with fire."

"Oh yeah, I suppose you're going to forgive and forget, like that church
stuff says to do," Foster came back at Chad with.

Looking at Matty, Chad returns his gaze back to Foster, saying, "Well, if
more people had forgiving hearts, than there wouldn't be so much war in the
world!"

Foster's speech making came to a standstill. He sunk back down in his
chair.

"Dammit, Foster," Coach spoke up, "I think Mr. Barr here is being mighty
forgiving, trying to get you guys off on the smallest possible charge and
the least you could do is think of each other and help out!"

"It's getting late," Steve spoke up, eyeing the clock on the wall."

"Yes," Barry agreed, then continued, "So what I'm going to tell your
parents is that we are not pressing formal charges, but will require each
of you to do community service, at whatever Chad and I designate on your
behalf."

"Community service?" Paul Foster says. "What's that supposed to
mean. Helping old fogey's out?"

Coach sensed a good feeling. He thought how Paul Foster, working with the
senior citizens would teach him more of a lesson of life than his hard
cock. Though the two different pleasures came from different sources.

A final decree came from Barry before they adjourned, "However, if I don't
get a call from either of your parents, you can kiss the rest of your
Senior year goodbye. Do I make myself clear, boys?"

They all took on Paul Foster's answering, agreeing, "Yes, sir."

Paul and Chris left the room first, with Coach.

Albert said to Coach Martin, "I'll be there in a sec."

Standing, he faced Chad.

"I know this wasn't the best of circumstances for me to learn something
about myself; about life, but I'm truly sorry for what I did to you
Chad. I... I understand it if you don't want to, but I'd still like... like
to be your friend."

Albert held out his hand, to shake Chad's. Even though it hurt, Chad
approached Albert, put his arms around him and gave him a hug.

"Forgive and forget, remember, Albert."

"I'll never forget it, Chad. Thanks," Albert replied to Chad's generosity,
again tears filling his eyes.

%

Paul didn't feel comfortable at all when he entered his home. His parents
waited up for him.

"Where the fuck have you been?" his stepdad inquired harshly.

"Coach Martin just dropped me off."

"I didn't fuckin' ask you.... Where the fuck you been?"

Paul knew this wasn't going to go over easy, plus he smelled the liquor on
his father's breath. His mom excused herself from the room.

"Well, I'm going to bed. I'm glad you're home, Paul dear."

After a kiss on the cheek, she ascended the stairs, leaving the
disciplining to her husband.

"So, what's your fuckin' excuse this time?"

Paul addressed his stepdad as 'Bill', saying, "You... you have to call
Mr. Barr."

"I ain't fuckin' calling anybody. Now, dammit, tell me what's eating you,
boy?"

"Bill, I got into trouble in school today."

He didn't give Bill a chance to even hint, as the slap caught him across
the face.

"Didn't I fuckin' tell you to stay out of trouble?"

Bill Foster began to fidget with his belt buckle.

"It wasn't just me. Two other guys...uggggh!" Paul yelled out as his
stepdad's shoe caught him in the ribs.

"I'm not interested in your fuckin' excuses... get the fuck up!"

Paul got to his feet as he looked to see his stepdad withdraw the belt
halfway from the loops.

"Get down there and now!"

Bill referred to the basement. The place Paul had always dreaded to go,
whether for happy reasons, or other. To him, over the years, the basement
meant a chamber of horrors for him. Stopping on the way, Bill Foster hit
the fridge, taking a six pack along with him. At the last step, he kicked
Paul in the back. His chest pressed up against the cinderblock wall.

"You know the drill. Get that fuckin' shirt off before I rip it off your
worthless body!"

Reaching down to the tails, Paul reluctantly pulled the tee shirt up and
over his head.

"The rest of the clothes, too. I'm feeling kinda horny tonight!"

Paul knew from experience that the stocky, goateed man could easily
overpower him and if he made a run for it, it would spell more of a
punishment than he knew was coming his way. So the eighteen year old jock
stripped down to the buff.

"Grab the pipe and stretch those legs, boy!"

Like an overseer punishing a slave, Bill Foster dealt out the orders. He
had stripped his own shirt, exposing his belly over his beltline, the
hairy, bearlike chest and stomach. In one hand he held a half-chugged can
of beer. The other hand wielded his long, thick belt, coiled around his
hand at the buckle. Paul, in the meantime had his hands wrapped around the
pipe that the water traveled through to the kitchen plumbing. It's not the
first time he's had to assume the positioning. Sometimes it had been for an
infraction, other times for Bill's entertainment. It's not like he didn't
complain to his mother, but it seemed his pleas fell on deaf ears. For the
first time in his life, Paul Foster sensed an overwhelming defeat. He
already knew that his father missed the call to Barry Barr. At this point
he didn't care about anyone. Not even himself. In fact, he wished that his
demise would come quickly.

Bently and Karen Seaford were aghast at the news their son, Chris relayed
in the telling. Mr. Seaford got on the telephone promptly at one thirty am
and called Barry, beginning with a thousand pardons for their son's
actions.

Coach Martin accompanied Albert Fagan up the walk to his home.

"Thanks for doing this for me, Coach Martin."

"Like I said, Albert. I care about you. I'm just sorry that I overreacted
and took things into the wrong direction. I guess we all learned something
from this and you better believe that I'm not going to let this go without
getting some help for myself."

"Maybe you can do some community service too, Coach."

"Don't be a wiseass, Albert."

Albert stopped short of the key in the knob.

"Sorry. I didn't mean anything offensive, Coach. I should just be happy
that you're doing this for me. My mom's not well. She's got heart
problems."

"That's another thing you should've thought of before going and doing what
you did, Albert."

"I know. I'm just glad that Chad Barr turned out to be so forgiving."

"You going to unlock the door?"

Coach's presence helped and Albert was thankful he remained there. He
always dreaded the hour when his mom would take with clenching her chest,
suffering a heart attack. Coach Martin grabbed the phone to call for the
ambulance.

"Oh man, it's all my fuckin' fault!" Albert cried in Coach Martin's arms,
as he stood in the emergency waiting room, as they worked on his mom.

Coach Martin had made the call to Barry Barr, but with different
information than intended.

"Chad? What are you doing here?" Albert inquired.

"To help a friend?"

Matty helped Chad over towards Albert and for the second time tonight they
hugged each other.

"Chad, you're a special guy," Albert awarded him the title.

Steve and Barry had accompanied Chad and Matty. They stood talking with
Coach Martin.

"He's taking it pretty badly, huh?" Barry asked.

"Yeah," Coach replied, "Albert blames himself."

"I can see that he would," Barry said. "How he could bring himself to such
a brutal act. He seems more like a nice kid."

Steve interjects, "Look at Connor Matthews and Jim Faulkner. One of their
assailants came from a dysfunctional family. Who knows what influenced
their gay bashing."

"Which reminds me," Barry brings up. Relaying the info, he says, "You know,
Coach Martin..."

Coach cuts Barry off, "It's Marty."

"Marty?"

"Yeah. I never used it because my parents named me Marty Martin."

"Oh, well the same, Marty," Barry continued, "Paul Foster's parents never
called."

"Never called?"

"No. I guess they're going to fight this one, I'm sorry to say."

If they only knew of the consequences Paul faced at this moment, his slack
body bent over a table in the basement of his house. His back a mass of
bleeding welts, his drunk, horny stepfather working over Paul's ass with
his massive battering tool.

"Yeah, well I knew bringing the boys to your house that I faced that
reality," Marty replied, with little hope of saving himself.

"I didn't want it to go without saying, Marty that I think you did a noble
thing here. After all, my son's beating had nothing to do with you. In
reality, even though you overreacted and took matters into your own hands,
I know your heart was in the right place."

"Well, not to use this as an excuse or anything, but if I had confronted
the three teens with their clothes on, my outcome probably would have been
more of a tongue lashing."

"Catherine?" Steve questioned.

"Ooooh noooooo... don't tell me!" Her frightful face showed her utter
concern.

"Catherine," Steve continued, "nothing's happened to any of us. We're here
for... a friend," he looked up at Marty.

"Whew! You gave me a fuckin' start there for a moment, Steve!"

Steve, as well as Barry smiled. It induced Marty to do the same.

"Actually, Catherine would you be able to do us a favor?"

"Name it, Steve," she replied.

"They brought in a Rose Fagan."

"Oh."

Right away, Catherine's tone told them something.

"That her boy over there with Chad and Matty?"

"Um, yeah, why? Bad news?"

"She's not doing very well. If I were you, I'd keep in close contact with
her kid. You never know what's going to happen. I'll keep you posted. If
there's anything else I can do, name it, Steve."

They thanked Catherine as she went about her duties.

"Oh man, I feel so bad for Albert," Marty extended his feelings.

"Maybe we should find out if there's any family?" Barry asked.

Marty said flat out, "There isn't any. All the way to the hospital Albert
wondered what he'd do without his 'mama'. I asked if there was any other
relative to notify. He's it!"

"The poor kid," Steve interjected.

"Yeah, I feel for him. Lucky he's got your two boys", referring to Chad and
Matty, "to help him through this."

"He's got you too, Marty."

"I'm his coach from the track team."

"He looks up to you, Marty," Barry told him.

"I dunno."

"He must mean something to you, Marty, if you took the time to got to his
house with him."

Steve reaffirmed Barry's assumptions with, "Barry's right, Marty. You're a
caring person and whether Albert's mother makes it through this or not,
he's going to need somebody to help out."

"That I don't mind doing in the least," the twenty-six year old coach
assured them.

"Then you do care," Barry summed up.

"Oh, I do. Tell you the truth, I really like Albert. He's a nice kid. I
don't frankly know what steered him in the wrong direction. Maybe peer
pressure?"

"That'll do it," Steve relays.

"Um, Marty, mind if I ask something personal?"

"Fire away."

"I know this is probably a dumb question, but are you gay?"

"Yes, closeted... well, I guess not closeted now. I guess with my
short-lived career on the line and when news gets around, I wouldn't be in
the closet any longer."

"I'm not up on how long you've been teaching, Marty," Steve indirectly
inquired, being a teacher at WRHS for years.

"I've been at the high school for two years. I was at the elementary level
and got tired of kickball."

That made the dads smile.

"Yeah, I can remember subbing for gym class once," Barry told of the
incident, "got a rebounding kickball right here in the gut!"

"Ouch!" Marty replied.

"You never told me that," Steve hinted, but in a joking mood.

Marty didn't dwell on the subject, but drew an agenda of his own.

"Um, I don't think it's a secret anymore that you two are gay?"

Steve recollected, "Right. I think as of yesterday or the day before that,
slowly some of us teachers began getting 'pulled' out of the closet by some
students. You know what happens when word gets around."

"Yes, I do at that. However, it seems that it's been safer for teachers to
come out, than students for whatever reason."

"Well," Barry assesses, "I think I could see where you coming out, being in
the sports field, with lockerrooms and all, being gay could present a
difference of opinions."

"Tell you the truth, guys, after all this I'm not hiding it
anymore. Whatever comes of it, then let it be so."

Barry assures Marty, "Let it be said, that neither myself, nor Steve, and
that goes for Matty and Chad, are going to let this get into the media. I'm
sure for an exchange of community service, the families will keep this
hushed as well."

Suddenly, outside their door a rush of paramedics and doctors became
apparent. They observed their good friend, Dr. Maria Scala zip by, a trail
of hospital personal at her heels.

"God bless them! There's always something happening around here!" Steve
declared.

Barry, staring out the small window, centered in the doorframe, says
shockingly, "Wait a minute!"

"What?" Steve asks, as he and Marty watch, as well.

"Nooooo, it can't be!"

"It is! That's Paul Foster they're bringing in!" Steve confirmed his love's
suspicions.

%

That Steve is such a smart cookie!  continued.........

       Copyright 2005 T. Chase McPhee All Rights Reserved.

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