Date: Wed, 20 Dec 2006 07:44:31 -0500 (EST)
From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com>
Subject: Rip part 12 of 12

Installment 12 Epilogue: Twelve Years Later

Copyright 2006 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without
the author's permission.

Please note: this story depicts oral and anal sex between a male adult
and male minors. If this offends you or is illegal to publish in your
jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.

The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments
about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank
you.

---

It was only December 3, but it was already "beginning to look a lot like
Christmas." Malcolm sat at his dining room table and tried to work on the
Christmas cards, yet again. He had so many people this year to send to.

There were all his Mother's friends, to whom he sincerely wanted to wish
a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, after all the kindness they
showed to him last spring during Mom's final illness. Malcolm practically
lived at the hospital, thinking his presence would give Mom the will to
fight the brain tumor. But she seemed to be in such distress. Finally,
the nurse took him aside and compassionately told him it was time to let
her go, that she was struggling to hold on for his sake. Malcolm sat with
her that night and told her it was OK to go and join Dad, that he would
be OK. He promised to always be super careful. Mom slept peacefully for
two more nights and then the morning of the third day quietly passed on.

Sis, of course, came and helped with the funeral arrangements but it was
up to Malcolm, the one who still lived close, to dispose of all their
mother's things, the things one inevitably accumulates over the decades.
Then came the difficult task of selling of the house itself. Malcolm had
a house in town and another up on the lake, but his parents' house was
the one he had called "home" for 42 years. He almost considered buying it
himself, if only to keep his fantasy alive. Since high school, he had
maintained the notion that Philip might one day look him up again, and
not knowing where Malcolm lived, would begin by going back to his boyhood
home. It never happened. There had never been so much as a Christmas card
from the boy. The boy; Malcolm still thought of him as twelve years old.
He'd be what, 38, now. Was he married? Was he happy? Was he even alive?
No, it was time for Malcolm to let go of childish daydreams and face the
present. He turned the keys over at the clos! ing and wished the new
owners as much happiness as he had had there.

Rippy, of course, had to get a card. Malcolm would probably see his
sister's son at Christmas, but maybe not. At 22, Euripides Sloan was an
up-and-coming photojournalist, who never knew where and when his next
assignment would take him. Malcolm reached over to the shelf where he
kept the National Geographic that had Rippy's photos of New Guinea.
Thumbing through the pages, he remembered the boy's thrill that Christmas
he got the digital camera.

He addressed the next card to Jason and his family. Now a partner in his
father's firm, Jason had a beautiful wife and two adorable boys, ages
four and two. In a few years, would Jason be seeking a boy-lover for his
sons as his father had done?

Tony was always appearing on the nightly sports roundups. He had been to
Wimbleton twice. With both a successful career and a handsome face, he
was sought out for endorsements of everything from tennis rackets to
breakfast cereal. He told Malcolm he had even been approached by Trojan
for an endorsement.

Chucky was still living with Ricky, and the two had recently settled in
New York City, where Ricky worked as a fashion designer, and Chucky a
personal trainer. Where were the boys now who once used the spastic wuss
as their punching bag?

Malcolm wondered if he had Harry's latest address. The 24-year-old was
always moving from one city to another, quitting one job and starting
another. He never completed college, having changed his major five times.
He was no different in his love life, always moving from one intense
relationship to the next.

Billy Johnson had gone into the military directly from high school. He
served two tours in the Middle East, but now had wisely decided to settle
down. His new wife was pregnant with their first baby, and Billy had
accepted a position with a large security company.

His brother, Tony, just out of college, was temporarily back home with
Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, while he looked for employment. Malcolm knew he'd
find a good job in no time, but was sure his parents, now approaching
retirement age, were happy to have him around for a little while, to help
keep up the house.

Tarong had just started premed at UNG. He had served as mentor to many
Sambian boys, nourishing their tingus with his potent susu kental pria,
but felt he could do much more to improve the health of his tribe. He had
secretly decided to put off marriage until he could provide a decent home
for his wife, a home he would share with her, a home without pigs, in
other words, a home much like the one his "brother" had grown up in.

Malcolm was still deep in thought about all his young protégés, when he
heard, "Are you STILL writing those cards?"

"Oh, hi, Juan. Si, it takes me a long time because I keep thinking about
the people I write to." He put down his pen and looked at the adorable
ten-year-old. "I didn't realize you were off the phone. How is your
mother? And your brother?"

"She's tired. She said Pepito still isn't stable. The doctors keep
changing his medicine."

"Epilepsy is a difficult disease, Juan. Especially for a five-year-old.
Your mother is a real saint the way she tends to your little brother."

"She wanted me to tell you she really 'preciates you letting me stay here
with you."

"It's the least I could do to help, Juan. And you know I love having you
here. You have school tomorrow. Did you tell Mama you finished your
homework?"

"Si si. She said I was a good boy. And then I told Mama what you promised
to show me tonight, and that made her laugh. I like to make Mama happy
'cause she worries about Pepito so much. She said she hoped I liked it."

"Well, now, let's see, what exactly did I promise to teach you?"

"Oh, Malcolm, you're just teasing me. You remember. I told Mama you was
going to teach me the spreadeagle tonight. Come on, let's go to our
bedroom now." Juan grabbed Malcolm's hand and started pulling him.

"OK, Juan, you're the Boss."

The End