Date: Fri, 9 Aug 2002 14:19:35 -0500
From: Gary <gary_q@hotmail.com>
Subject: Patient John Doe Chapter 16

Patient John Doe
By Gary_Q
Gary_Q@hotmail.com

The below story is a work of fiction, none of the events described
happened, nor do any of the characters exist.  This story may contains
erotic and/or sexually explicit behavior between consenting males, both
adult and underage minors.  If it is illegal for you to, or you find this
sort of work offensive, don't download or read it!

The author reserves all copyrights to this story, it my be printed,
electronically recorded or reproduced ONLY for personal use.  The
reproduction or linking to this story by pay web sites is expressly
forbidden.

Author's Notes: If you have not read it, please note the DEDICATION of this
story, stated in both Chapter One and Twelve.

I also want to thank my good friend Miguel Sanchez,
miguel_sanchez55@hotmail.com for his extensive help in developing this
chapter, along work we are doing on chapter seventeen.  (Julio, of course,
is now the mature Doctor Jay Sanchez in this story).  (Also, sorry about
screwing up his address before!)

                        Chapter Sixteen

     The horses dominated the conversation for the next few minutes as we
snacked and relaxed.  When the Ronnie and Steven returned to the deck after
a private viewing the photos on the laptop, I sent them back to bring it
onto the patio, and guided my kids as they used the videos I had shot for
St. Paul's and for Johnny to give a `virtual tour' of the ranch.
     "Wow, you get to wake up and wave at your horse from your window every
morning, Cool!" Angela hooted.
     "You get to ride just whenever you want?  You don't have to go with
your mom and dad?" Steven asked.  I had to snicker as Ronnie rather
skillfully worked his way through the files on my computer and brought up a
picture of him riding Zeus.
     "We can ride anyone but him whenever we wanta!" he announced.  "I mean
want to.  That's Dad's horse, we only get to ride him when Mrs. Stewart or
Pop says we can."
     I snickered as Johnny almost frantically dug through his pictures
before holding one up to everyone.  "That's me on Zeus!  I even get to race
him!" he proudly proclaimed.
     We talked about the horses and ranch a few more minutes, none to my
surprise the Sanchez children asking a couple of the standard questions
non-Texans always ask, the same questions I had been asked so many times
while attending schools out of state like `how many oil wells do you own',
and `do you ride your horses to school'.  My hip grunted when Steven asked
`Do you wear guns all the time?'
     After a few minutes they drifted into other conversations and away
from the adults.  When Ronnie took my laptop back inside I ignored his
dirty look as I put my fingers in front of my mouth, silently ordering he
and his brother to put their headgears back on, but Mark dutifully followed
his brother inside.
     "Those are beautiful animals," Steven Senior commented.  "From the
pictures your stud is most impressive, is the Cinnamon foal his first?
Which was the mare, it is rare to get another color offspring from two same
color animals, especially in Arabians."
     I'm sure my face gave me away as I wondered how he knew so much about
breeding horses, bringing up something I didn't know as a budding breeder.
"Steven is a Veterinarian." Jay informed me.
     I blushed a little before explaining how I acquired Ginger, and that
she was an undersized filly, older than she appeared.  He listened intently
as I explained the hormone treatment my Vet had ordered for her.  "I have a
colleague you might want to contact when you return to Texas," Steven
replied.  "He teaches at A & M (Texas A & M University), but has done
extensive research into growth deficiencies as you are describing.  I have
his number in the car, I'll get it for you later."
     "Fantastic!" I replied.  "I earned my Bachelor's at A & M."
     "That is what's wrong with you!" Jay injected.  "An Aggie, no wonder
you ended up as a shrink!"
     "Be kind, my son," Miguel almost scolded his adult son.  "As a young
man, I considered applying to A & M."  He let his statement soak in for a
few seconds before adding, "But then I woke up, got a haircut, and came to
my senses!"
     "And I had always heard Yankees were such formal, cultivated hosts!" I
mumbled to the ocean, knowing I was outnumbered and would face defeat.
"The beach seems to be getting shorter, is the tide coming in?" I tried,
hoping to rescue some dignity.
     Thankfully the kids reappearing on the deck rescued me as they darted
toward the pool.  I started to yell at my sons about their braces, but both
Ronnie and Mark were already underwater before I could.  `Well, I hope
those damn things are waterproof,' I groaned.
     Their body guards were as efficient and casual as they had been
earlier.  Chad stood at the edge of the pool, taunting his fellow sailors
as the other two played in the pool with the children, I think I was the
only one that noticed he was also holding his mate's fanny packs as he kept
a watchful eye on everyone.  He joined the Sanchez adults and I as we
chatted for the next few minutes, everyone glancing back at the barbeque
pit as Ronnie's huge roast seduced our noses.
     My stomach was trying to convince my body to attach the pit when
Angelina appeared with two more trays of snacks.  I just had time to taste
one when Ronnie appeared by the pit, wearing again a pair of swim trunks
and tall white Chef's hat.  As I saw the other hats tucked under his arm I
smiled, knowing what he was up to.
     As the chef raised the lid on the cook-pit I could almost see a beam
of energy radiate from it and zap the swimming pool, as if something out of
a Star Wars movie.  All three of my sons, almost immediately followed by
Angela and young Steven broke of from their splashing and frocking as their
eyes zoomed in on the invader, before they darted out of the water and
rushed to its source.  I had to cough and look away as they lined up in
front of the pit, Angela and Steven folding their hands behind their backs
and leaning forward as if trying to have a snack from the aroma as my boys
looked longingly at Ronnie; without being able to see their faces I was
sure drool was forming on their lips.
     "Who is going to prepare the potatoes, and who the meat?" big Ronnie
asked, dropping chef's hats on Ronnie and Mark.  Angela and Steven giggled
as their uncle ordained them with the tall hats.
     "Let's go butter the potatoes, I know how!  Uncle Ronnie taught me!"
Steven said, pushing against my Ronnie.  "Come on!" he added, pushing his
nose toward the pit for a last, long smell before he wrapped his arm around
his new friend's waist and started inside.
     "I remember how to paint them!  I mean paste them!" Mark proudly
announced.  To everyone's surprise he jumped into the air and grabbed big
Ronnie's Chef's hat off the man's head.  "I'll show you, it's easy!" he
proclaimed as he dropped the hat on Johnny's head.
     Everyone on the deck tried to stifle their snickers as the stiffly
starched white hat bounced off of Johnny's ears and nose, settling on his
neck more as a hood than a cap.
     "You BASTE it!" Angela barked, with all the authority any young girl
could have possibly expressed.  Before anyone could react she pulled
Johnny's hood up, perching it on his forehead and ears, before she brushed
his bangs out of his eyes.  "It's easy, watch," she told the crimson faced
boy.
     I had to smile as Ronnie stepped between his niece and Mark, subtly
cutting Mark off as he tried to get between his brother and Angela.  Ronnie
ignored Mark's dirty look and handed the lad a basting brush, placing his
hands on Mark's bony shoulders and turning him toward the pit.
     "Neat!" Angela commented.  She sat her brush back in the sauce pan and
watched attentively as she assumed supervision the operation.  "A little
more over there," she added a few seconds later, pointing at the meat.
"Great!  Is that okay Uncle Ronnie?" she asked.
     I think Johnny was a little disappointed when our chef closed the
pit's lid, but turned to me with a proud smile.  When I extended my hand
toward him he darted away from the others, and had taken a couple of steps
toward me when his oversized headdress bounced off his ears and again
hooded him.  His face was bright red with embarrassment as he pulled it
back up, cocked it on his forehead and ears and pushed into my arms.
     "I don't know, I kind of like it the other way!" I more giggled than
said as I dropped the tall hat back over his face.
     "POP!" he howled, blindly pushing into my snuggle.
     "Excuse me, but I would suggest that we move the party inside," Chad
interrupted us.  "Very quickly, please," the young sailor politely, but
firmly, ordered.  His taught face told us to comply.  When I looked around
he was already hustling Mark and Angela inside.  One of his partners was
intently studying the beach, the other had disappeared.
     The noise of a boat motor from the ocean distracted me for a second,
and I noticed one of the fishing boats that had been watching us all
afternoon was rushing toward the beach at top speed.  To my surprise it
crashed into the sand, beaching itself without slowing down.  As I watched
several fisherman seemed to catapult out of it onto the shore and bounce to
their feet.
     Miguel's satellite phone rang almost at the same instant as mine.
"Yes, let's step inside," Miguel said before turning his attention back to
his phone.
     "I don't have time to talk, but PLEASE follow Corporal Athens
instructions, and stay way from outside windows," Banks barked into the
earpiece of my phone.  "Several people are approaching the Sanchez house as
we speak.  I know you are armed, please don't take any rash actions, they
are federal agents.  I am sorry, but I don't have time to talk, please
comply with my wishes" he added.  Our call was disconnected before I could
respond.
     `I don't do trauma, or shootings, and God, now I'm about to be in the
middle of God knows what?' I asked I guess the handgun strapped around my
waist, as I reached into the hidden holster of my fanny pack, somewhere
between verifying the gun was still there, and rehearsing in case I needed
to draw it.
     "Pop!  Come look, you gotta come!" Johnny's voice demanded as he
rushed toward me.  "Roger's got a totally AWESOME game!  It's TOTALLY bad,
you can shoot at submarines and stuff and it works on your puter!  Come on,
it's BAD!" he howled, almost dragging me by the hand into the Sanchez den.
     "What the fuck is going on?" I whispered to Miguel as he joined us.
     "We have visitors, but not to worry," he answered, subtly brushing my
hand away from my weapon.  "This problem might end very soon!" he added.
     Chris, our third Marine guard, slipped into the house a minute or so
later.  He gave Chad a couple of hand signs before looking back out the
door, scanning the deck and beach intently.  I felt a knot form in my
stomach as I glanced between the young sailors, the innocent, youthful
gleam in their eyes had been replaced with the cold, hard glare of
seasoned, hardened warriors.  `God, this cannot be real!' I thought as I
turned my gaze to the kids, all of them enthralled in whatever their guard
had loaded onto my laptop.
     The tension among the adults mounted, until it was almost thick enough
to cut with a knife, over the next few minutes, as we listened and waited.
We had heard a few muffled voices from outside the house, but nothing
else. `I should be sitting on my patio, my worst worry how to be sure the
kids did all their homework by Sunday night' I told myself as I verified
the position of Miguel's Baretta on my hip for the tenth or so time.
`Fuck, I could be relaxing before I took them back to St. Paul's for the
week, and thinking about what would be fun to do as a carefree, kid-free,
bachelor all week!'
     "God, I'm so sorry I got you into all this," I whispered to Jay and
Miguel.
     "I am glad you did, I am glad we could help," Miguel answered.  As I
tried to digest his statement I looked over at him.  His facial expression,
as he studied the pile of kids stacked against one another, cheering
whoever were the current contestants in the computer game completed his
answer for me.
     `Well, if this was Hollywood, and I could do a rewrite, I might leave
out the man-eating horses, I wonder what that's going to cost?' I asked
myself as we both watched the kids enjoying themselves and each other.
`Miguel is no dummy,' I thought as I watched Johnny and Mark, along with
Ronnie and younger Steven interact.
     A noise made me jerk to the side, just in time to see it was an almost
silent clicking sound Chad was making with his mouth.  As I watched he made
several hand-signals almost like signs I had seen gang members make.  Roger
quickly slipped away from the kids and positioned himself at the corner of
a wall bordering the front entry foyer.  At the same time, Chris backed
away from the deck door, closer to the kids but clearly surviving the deck
as Chad stepped into the foyer.
     Chad glanced around the room one more time before disappearing toward
the front entry door.  I almost unthinkingly slipped my hand into my fanny
pack, grasping the grips of my weapon as I saw the young sailors do the
same.
     "Good afternoon, sir," I heard Chad softly say, followed by a couple
of more clicking sounds from the foyer, causing Roger and Chris to visibly
relax.  The young sailor appeared from the foyer a second later.  "Special
Agent Banks and two of his agents are here to see you, sirs," he announced.
Although his manner was as polite as a professional butler's, his eyes made
it clear he was preparing us, verifying no one had a drawn weapon.
     Banks gestured toward the deck with his hand as he came into the room.
"I have mostly good news," he began as Jay, Miguel and I followed him
outside.  "We arrested four members of the group we are concerned about a
few minutes ago, and, with the help of América Segura, it seems there is
only one suspected member of the cartel at large, we think in Mexico or
Columbia.  They are a unique organization, we are in their debt," he added,
giving Miguel a wily glance.
     "We are going to maintain a surveillance around your home overnight,
but I feel comfortable the threat is over for the child, for all of you.  I
think it's safe to remove the Marine guards even, they will be returning to
their regular duties shortly." he concluded.
     "What about Texas, the ranch?" I asked.
     "We are continuing a surveillance of your property, and your attorney
and her family, just as a precaution," he answered.  "But," his face
stiffened somewhat as if to keep from laughing.  "But, everything
considered, both your horses and I will assure you it is safe in Texas."
     "DAD! ! !" Ronnie's alto voice rang out as he burst through the door
onto the deck.  Mark and Johnny were right behind as they all rushed to me.
     "Chad and Roger said they gotta go home!  Please, we told them they
could stay here, we were gonna have a sleepover!  Why do they gotta go
now?" Mark cried as he pushed against me.
     "Well, we still want them to stay, and see, we asked first!  Please,
can they still stay?  Sir?" Ronnie almost groaned, giving his little
brother a death stare.
     "And their Captain said they still could!  They called him he said
they could!  He promised!" Johnny chimed in.  "Please Pop!" he added,
pushing against me even harder.
     "I thought you were going to ask first?" I snapped.  `Yeah, ask
everyone but me first,' I thought.
     "Excuse me, but I would enjoy having your friends spend the night,
provided your father approves," Jay injected, looking more toward me than
the boys.  I flashed Jay a dirty look as I accepted Johnny's then Ronnie's
hug.
     "Haven't we talked about asking BEFORE committing?" I asked, the growl
I had wanted to project into my voice totally failing.  A pair of heads
pushing under my neck was too much.  "Yes, they can still stay overnight,
but, well, you ask first, I mean it!"  It didn't take long to realize I had
said that poorly as I had a third kid in the middle of my lap, my thighs
creaking like over stressed bridge supports as they sagged under the weight
of all three of my Turkeys.  "I mean it boys, last warning!" I added,
praying my legs didn't break.
     Thankfully, after another group hug they climbed down from my lap.  I
wondered if I had been too harsh on them as they shuffled toward the house,
almost as if they were puppies with their tails tucked between their legs.
I was about to call them back and apologize as they started inside.  `So
much for that!' I thought as I watched them dart toward the den, squealing
as they announced their victory.
     "You are very fortunate, Adam.  Much more than I think you know," Jay
said.  When I looked over he was talking more toward the patio door than
me.  "Very fortunate indeed," he repeated as he rushed toward the far end
of the deck.
     I blocked Miguel as he started after his son.  Banks caught the hint
quickly as I looked over at him, and excused himself.  "You to make sure my
kids are okay, I'll make sure your's is, I whispered.  Miguel gave me a
nasty look, but turned back to show Banks out as I turned and followed Jay.
     I took a deep breath, and walked into his bedroom unannounced.
"What's wrong, are you alright?" I asked.  "I know it has been a crazy
weekend and I'm sorry to put you through it." he glared at me for a brief
second before looking away and sitting on the edge of his bed.
     "Remember, Doctor, I am not only a shrink, but a Texan!  All Texan's
hunt wet backs with a vengeance, almost as harshly as they do hippies!" I
added, "Que Pass'O" (What is wrong in Tex-Mex)
     "Nothing, please leave me alone for a while," he asked the carpet.
     "Of course, please forgive me for intruding," I answered.  I started
out the door back onto the deck before I asked, "Is it the kids being here
that upset you, or knowing they are leaving soon?"
     Failing a response I started to slide his door closed when he said,
"You are very a perceptive individual.  Frighteningly perceptive. "  His
face seemed to invite me back into the room.
     "It goes with the territory, how do you think I stayed alive this long
in Redneckville, USA!" I replied as I stepped back into the room.  "I
suppose my residency training helped a little too.  The boys are getting to
you, aren't they?" I asked as I sat down in a chair near the bed.  "If I
can risk an illiterate opinion, they are bringing to the surface a void in
your life.  I think in your mate's too."
     "Children have always held a special place in my heart, I think that
is more why I chose my vocation, even more than wanting to follow in my
father's footsteps.  It feels so wonderful every time I can help one of
them," he told the ocean outside the deck door.  "Ronnie and I have for a
long time felt Steven and Angelina, well perhaps their family, has not only
been very fortunate, but that our niece and nephew have filled a void, I
think the only void, I what we think is a perfect relationship Ronnie and I
have."
     I was trying to formulate a response, as well of trying to shift gears
from being a protective parent, even now equipped with a side-arm, to a
Psychiatrist, when he continued.  "I apologize.  But yes, your family, the
love that radiates between each of you has, well, gotten to me," he said,
turning not to look at me but more the wall behind me.
     "I picked that up Friday morning," I answered.  "I was only somewhat
bantering when I teased you two about giving you the boys.  Bit, you two
would make perfect parents, especially for children that need someone that
understands their sexuality."
     "But that is a mute topic," he countered.
     "Well, the pregnancy would damn sure be interesting!" I quipped.  His
face flared briefly until he finally looked at my face and realized I was
joking.
     It worked better than I expected as his face melted into a slight
grin.  "But it would be fun!" he snickered.
     "Hey, Amigo, I was eleven-years-old when Ronnie was born!  I just wish
I could remember the fun!"
     "For a straight, you are a sick man!" he laughed.  "Seriously, as much
as I envy you, and respect you for taking the boys into your home, I'm
afraid it is not an option my partner and I have, not as a same sex
couple."
     "What about as brothers, sharing a house as they do a business?" I
asked.
     "Your idea is good, but the ancient, great state of Virginia doesn't
agree with either you or my ideas.  Even as two confirmed, straight
bachelors living as housemates, the pre-revolutionary, puritan standards
our Virgin-ia officials adhere to would make us more targets than
candidates, I'm sure they would laugh at us."
     "I'm sure they would too!" I replied.  He gave me a dirty glare before
I could add, "What do you think the Great, Bible Belt State of Texas
thought of a single hippy, clearly a dope smoker because of the length of
his hair, inciting a pair of cute, young boys to come live with him in the
country, far away from prying eyes?  Especially knowing at least one of
them was far less than a virgin."
     Jay's eyes studied my face, then my eyes for several seconds very
intently.  "What do you have. . ."  He stopped short as Ronnie entering the
room announcing we were about to eat, the kids were setting the table.
"Thank you, we will be there shortly," Jay told his partner, his eyes still
fixed on mine.  The chef's face flashed between concern and interest as he
glanced at each of us before slipping back into the hall.
     "I'm a board certified Psychiatrist, and my opinion is widely
respected.  Although I don't have a licence to practice in Virginia, I do
with MEDCOM, the medical branch of the U.S. Military.  That is how we
received all of Johnny's tests free, and so quickly.  If you are interested
in foster, or adopting kids, I might be able to help."
     We stared at each other for the better part of a minute before Steven,
then four more young faces appeared at the glass door opening onto the
deck.  "I'm hungry!!!" young Steven proclaimed as he rushed toward his
uncle.
     "Yeah, come on, I'm hungry!" Johnny added as his brothers all but
lifted me out of my chair and pushed me toward the deck.
     Ronnie's diner fare was as eloquent as always, but I'm not sure who
was more startled, he or his father, as mountains of roast and baked
potatoes disappeared down the throats of our five little eating machines,
as did what seemed like tons of vegetables and side dishes.  I had to smile
as I watched Angela and Mark, seated on each side of Johnny, compete over
who would help him cut his meat and handle heavy dishes that required two
working hands.  Mark was polite, but the nasty glare he kept shooting at
Angela clearly expressed his jealousy.
     Almost as if a scheduled performance written for the cuisine, the sun
began making it exit below the horizon, beautifully setting off the ocean's
magnificence and the beach's tranquility as we all finished our meal.
`Wow, this view is what you would expect at a five-hundred dollar a day
resort,' I thought as I pushed away from the table.
     Ronnie's timing made it seem he had coordinated with the sunset as he
an Angelina served dessert, the earth's rotation appeared to be
synchronized to our chef's schedule as we enjoyed a bread pudding that was
so delicious it could have started another Revolutionary War if the Brits
tried to capture its recipe.  The sun even parked itself, just peeking
above the horizon as the adults enjoyed coffee.  `Well, so much for Texas
hospitality,' I thought.  `Barbequed ribs and fried catfish, this ain't!"
     "Come on, let's go swimming!" Mark howled, his shrill voice harshly
jerking me back from the tranquility I was enjoying.
     "Yeah, can we?" his brothers chimed in, as Angelina's kids flashed
wanting eyes between their uncles, their mom and dad.
     "Not right after you ate, wait until your stomach has settled after
supper," Angelina answered before I could.  "Help your uncle with the
dishes, and walk around a few minutes so you don't get cramps, then you
may.  If it's alright with Doctor Owens."
     `You're good, kid!' I silently snickered as her children, quickly
followed by mine cleared the table, rushing the dozens of plates and
platters into the kitchen as if trying for a speed record.  `Why don't you
do that at home?' I silently asked, as I heard the dishwasher start a
minute or so later.
     Steven Junior was back at his mother's side almost immediately.  "Can
we go walk on the beach?  Please Mom, we promise we wont swim or anything!
Ronnie, , , I mean Ronnie and his brothers got to find some sea-shells to
take home!"
     I am sure my concerned face gave my fears away regarding security
after our long ordeal today.  "I don't care if you two go, but I think your
friends need to ask their dad," she answered.
     "We were thinking of walking our supper off, may we join you?" Chad
interrupted.
     "That was one of the best meals I've ever had, but I'm stuffed," Chris
added, both young sailors ignoring Steven Junior's dirty looks.
     I felt a hand touch my knee under the table.  `It's safe,' Miguel
lipped.
     "Just don't go to far away," I answered.  "And stay out of the ocean!"
I added, as a muffled series of hoots and `yeah's rang from the kitchen.
"You three do EXACTLY what, , , Angela and Steven tell you to, they know
the beach Not you!" I told the kitchen entryway.
     I was enjoying listening to their supposedly silent giggles when a
pair of lanky arms wrapped around my shoulder and neck.  "Ronnie's right,
you're a neat dad!  Thanks Doctor!" young Steven exclaimed as he gave me a
brief hug before darting into the kitchen.
     "Are you sure it's safe for them to be out there, for Johnny to be,
especially as close to dark as it is?" I asked Miguel as the adults
adjourned onto the deck.
     "I still have two men offshore," he answered, pointing to a sailboat
near the beach.  "And those young Marines know exactly what they are
doing," he reassured me.  "Let them enjoy themselves."
     We had relaxed on the deck, watching the last rays of dusk baste the
beach and water for ten minutes or so when Angela appeared at the top of
the deck stairs.  Her mother picked up on her facial expression better than
I did.  "What's wrong, babe?" Angelina asked, gesturing her daughter toward
her.
     "They want to go do boy stuff," the young teen girl whimpered.  "They
ran off in the dunes.  Can I go watch TV?"
     "Let's go watch together," Angelina suggested, tucking her daughter
under her arm as she walked the girl inside.
     "Oops!" I commented, almost dodging Steven Senior's eyes.
     "Let them be boys, she's okay," he reassured me as he watched his wife
and daughter disappear into the house.
     "I think the kids had the right idea, I'm going to go get in my
trunks!" I announced after ignoring Miguel and Jay's questioning looks
failed.
     We swam for ten minutes or so, then ended up getting engaged in a
really brisk game of water polo.  Miguel surprised me, despite being old
enough to be all our fathers (which he was for everyone but me) he made it
clear he was not a Senior Citizen, at least in physical condition.  As each
of us winded the others climbed out of the pool, Steven drying and going
inside to check on his wife and daughter, Jay and Ronnie climbing back onto
the deck and toweling off.
     "What did you and Jay talk about?" Miguel asked as he leaned against
one of the pool's water jets.  "I apologize, I should word that, after you
and my son talked, he has been in a world about three galaxies away.  May I
ask why?"
     The underwater pool lights came on, almost as if dramatizing the
answer I was clearly expected to provide.  "It has indeed been a long
weekend, for all of us," I tried.  His unemotional face told me it didn't
work.  "After all the things you have done for me, and my family yesterday
and really today, can I say Jay and I had an interesting discussion about
his future, his and his partner's?"  His face told me I had just tightened
my own hanging noose even tighter.  "You know my profession, and how
limited I am in discussing it," I tried.  "I hope that wasn't rude,
but. . ." I risked, praying to get onto another topic.
     "Not at all my friend!  Forgive me for being intrusive, please!" he
answered, cutting my statement off.  As he leaned back I began to relax,
proud I had out foxed the old fox.
     "I am embarrassed to solicit you for unpaid guidance, but I am
troubled.  I have watched two of my sons thrive, and enjoy life very much
since your sons have been here, probably more than I have since they were
teens moving into what they knew was a safe, happy home.
     "I have not seen either Jay or Ronnie so, happy, so excited in many
years.  They love my grandchildren, but having your boys, and you as a
single parent here, has showed them what having children might be like.
I'm an old, out of date Pediatrician, how should I react to my sons wanting
to continue to enjoy the warmth your sons, or other kids living here?
     "Of course, I am only seeking your advise regarding how I should react
with my sons, " he added, his grin saying much more than his words.  We
stared at each other for the better part of a minute before he added, "What
would you advise a parent of adult children, one that is very interested in
supporting any guidance you might have offered Jay, and I'm sure Ronnie."
     Ronnie's timing couldn't have been better as he appeared on the deck
with pitcher of Margarita.  "I know who much you enjoy these, Adam," he
said.
     Jay was right behind with a tray of salted glasses.  "It's too perfect
an evening, if you will excuse us, we are going for a walk on the beach,"
he announced.  `Gee thanks, thanks for letting me off the hook, NOT!' I
thought as they disappeared down the stairs.
     "I'd suggest you advise them to keep an adequate stock of Mezcal in
the house," I answered, climbing out of the water.  I could feel his eyes
probing the back of my head as I poured two drinks.  He hadn't moved when I
turned back around, so I carried both of them back to pool-side and handed
him one before climbing back into the pool, sitting against the same water
jet again.
     "Yes, but the only source here we have is when I go to Brazil," he
commented as he sipped his drink.  "But, you did not answer my question,"
he added.  I took a second sip of my drink, trying to find a way out of my
dilemma.  As I looked back him I felt gears grinding in my head.  I stared
at my drink for a few seconds as I digested his statement, and licked a
little extra salt off the rim of my glass, I guess to polish the gears
before they stripped.
     "I've treated a fair amount of gay teens, and some children that I
think are gay," I began.  "Unfortunately, as an Adolescent Psychiatrist, I
have very little, well hardly any, experience with gay couples."  I paused
briefly, trying to catch my balance on the tight rope I was walking.  `Fuck
it, he's genuinely concerned, and damn sure astute enough to be involved,'
I silently decided.
     "As a young, single parent, I can emphasize with many of a gay
couple's concerns and frustrations regarding involvement with children,
much less fostering them.  Shit, when I was ten minutes away from getting
custody of Mark and Ronnie I thought my world was going to end when one of
my turkey's mis spoke!" I took a minute to fill him in on Mark's comment at
the beginning of his custody hearing.  "I went from being the saving saint
of a children's home, to being excommunicated by a senior penguin from the
Catholic church, because of ten innocent words!" I snickered.
     "You have to consider Virginia law, and case law," Miguel responded.
"Much of this state's court law was written by the Puritans, and carved on
Plymouth Rock."
     "Come to Texas, the heart of the Bible Belt!" I countered, tousling my
ponytail.  "Our laws were written by Mark, Luke and John before the last
supper, and we would have to raise them from the dead to change anything!
Fuck, or get the tablets re-carved!  I think poor Mosses is getting a
little old to pack them down the mountain again, especially after the
Baptists get done with them!"  We both took another sip from our drinks as
we snickered at my sarcasm.
     I let my statements soak in for a few seconds before continuing, "I
understand, just from what I have read, that these biases are not so harsh
in some other countries, even in Latin America."  I paused again before
adding, "As a single dad, from what I understand with a male house-mate,
did you encounter any of this kind of crap when you adopted your boys?  Has
much changed since?"
     Miguel studied his glass, and I think the ocean behind it, for a
second or so before downing almost half his drink.  "Thank you Doctor, it's
amazing what a new prospective can provide," he told the ocean more than
me.  He downed the rest of his drink before muttering, "I wonder what
Carlos is doing this evening."
     "Thank you for protecting my son's confidence and helping an old man,"
he said as he turned to me.  "I salute you!" he added holding up his empty
glass.  I started to stand up and get us refills when he stopped me.
"Allow me!"  He disappeared to the deck table, returning quickly with two
fresh glasses.
     "Again, I salute you!" he said, offering his glass in toast.  I
clicked his glass and relaxed a little, thinking I had gotten myself off
the hook, when he added, "Are you sure you're an Aggie?"
     We relaxed in the pool for the better part of an hour as we casually
chatted, mainly about medical schools he, Jay and I had attended, even
laughing about a few childish pranks we, like students of all ages engaged
in while preparing for our noble profession.  As the sun's last rays gave
way to night, and almost full moon took over, the tide's gentle symphony as
it crashed against shore setting an environment I couldn't help being a
little jealous of my hosts.
     I don't think either of us heard Ronnie and Steven Junior come back
onto the deck until they dove into the other end of the pool.  "Hi guys,
have a good time?" I asked, snapping out of my tranquil semi-trance.
Ronnie gave me a wide silver smile, as Steven waved at his grandfather and
I.  They swam for a few minutes before Ronnie slid up next to me, tucking
his thin body under my arm.  I snickered as he pushed against me until I
moved over enough to let him get some of the benefit of the water jet I was
enjoying.  Steven was right behind, snuggling up to his granddad.
     "It's Soooo neat here!" Ronnie said.  "We got some totally bad shells
and stuff, and I saw a Jellyfish and a submarine!"  `A submarine?  Yeah
kid, sure,' I thought.  `A Jellyfish!?!' my stomach asked as it tightened
into a knot.  `Stay out of ocean!' I remembered ordering.
     "Yeah Grande, Roger showed us the submarine, it was neat!" Steven
injected before I could respond to my son.  "I've seen them before but I
didn't know what they were, I thought they were whales or something!  I'm
gonna start bringing my telescope now!"
     Miguel and I were exchanging dubious looks when Chad's voice rang from
behind us.  "It was one of the boats from Norfolk," he said.  "Depending on
the tide conditions I'm sure you see several a year coming on or out of
port."
     "It was one of the atom ones, it even came from Ohio!" Ronnie proudly
spouted.
     "Actually, an Ohio class boat, and a NUCLEAR, or ATOMIC submarine,"
Roger corrected from behind us.
     "Of course which boat it was is classified, but they are all
impressive to see, something civilians don't very often," Chad added,
draping his legs into the pool near us.
     "Yeah, Mark was pissed, he was gonna ask if we can take your camera
and forgot!" Ronnie said.  "I, ah, I mean he was angry sir, sorry," he
corrected himself, giving me a little tighter hug as a penitence.  Chris
and Roger eased into the water just as he said it, and I let him stew in
his embarrassment for a few seconds as he blushed at everyone.
     "Where is Mark, well and Johnny?" I asked.  The sailors and teens
exchanged curious looks for a couple of seconds.
     "They returned to the house, probably twenty minutes ago," Chad
replied.  Miguel and I glanced at each other, our faces tightening almost
in unison.
     "I was, watching them," Roger said.  "I kept them in site until they
were only a few meters from the steps." His face paled as he digested his
statement, and the glare his team leader was shooting at him.  All three of
the sailors' stiffened as they looked at Miguel and I.
     "Until they were where, Lance Corporal?" Chad barked, the veins in his
muscular neck starting to protrude.  "Stand to!," he snapped, swinging to
his feet.  His physical condition showed as he leapt across the deck to the
house, grabbing his fanny pack on the way, in probably three steps.
     It took a few seconds for me to snap back from the wonderfully
tranquil moon lite setting on the Sanchez deck, the three or four drinks
Miguel and I had enjoyed, along with the relaxing comfort of my son's
snuggle, as Roger and Chris sprang out of the pool.  I was just realizing
what their concerns were when Chad rushed back onto the deck.
     "They are not inside, they have not been inside!"  I wasn't sure what
he meant, but my ass-hole sucked what felt like half the water out of the
pool as he added, "Situation Hotel Sierra, threat-com Charlie, move!" he
said both to us and a small pager looking device in his hand.
     `No, God, no, don't let this be happening," I silently prayed as I
jumped out of the water.  "Ronnie, go inside, now please," I ordered as I
grabbed the fanny pack Miguel had loaned me.
     Miguel was almost next to me, grabbing his towel and unwrapping the
Baretta concealed in it.  Chad bolted down the stairs as Roger all but
jerked the kids out of the pool, hustling them, still dripping, into the
house.
     Chris stepped in front of me as I ran toward the deck stairs.  "Please
wait inside, that's an. . ." he started to demand before I body blocked
him, slamming him against the wall, clear of the stairs.  Miguel was step
for step behind me as we descended the stairs, two and three steps at a
time.
     `Holy shit, this CANNOT be happening,' I thought as I looked around
the shadowy, tranquil sand.  `God, not my boys, not my little angels!'
     The FBI's satellite phone, hanging on my fanny pack, interrupted my
prayer.  "Doctor Owens, this is Stan Banks.  I am on my way to the site,
please go back inside and leave this to the professionals," Banks all but
ordered.
     "I'll go inside when I have Johnny under one arm Mark under the other.
Shit up my kids, asshole!" I snapped before realizing it.  "You lost them,
I'm GOING TO find them!  Got it!"

To Be Continued. . .