Date: Thu, 23 Oct 2008 15:35:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around  Chapter Twenty-Six

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is
not the story for you.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Want to read a couple of good stories?  Try "Never
Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give".  They are both excellent.



Chapter Twenty-Six: Second Time Around


There is a reason they call red-eye flights, red-eye flights.  I was on a
flight out of Jacksonville a little after eight Saturday night and landed
in New York after two in the morning.  This was not a pleasure trip.  It
was not a trip I chose to make.  It was a necessity.  Sgt. Morgan's tone,
together with the injuries he described that Sean had sustained, and the
fact that Sean and Phyllis, Sean's mother, had asked for me to come, left
me no choice.

The boys wanted to come with me, but I told them that it would be very late
when I came back Sunday night and they needed their rest for school.  That
was only half of my concern, the weaker half.  My major concern was how
they would react to seeing Sean's injuries.  The boys thought they were old
enough and mature enough to handle many things that I thought they still
needed to be protected from; they were still just kids whether they liked
it or not.

When I suggested the boys stay at their grandmother's, that really got them
in an uproar.  They insisted they were old enough to take care of
themselves and I had to stifle a laugh when I remembered, not only the
number of times I had heard that line from them, but how many times I used
that same line on my parents.  They didn't give up and even managed to win
their grandmother's support.  When Mother supported their argument, I knew
I was out-gunned, particularly when Mother said she would come over and
take care of dinner Sunday afternoon, and I gave in.  However, if I found
that I couldn't get back Sunday evening they had to go to their
grandmothers and stay until I did return.

The boys were happy, at least two of them were.  When I gave in to Michael
and Frank, they started in with Eric wanting to stay with them.  Bonnie
emphatically said no to Eric, about five times.  When she looked to me for
backup I just held my hands up and told her it was her choice as to when
she thought he was old enough to be responsible.  I was glad her eyes
couldn't really shoot daggers.  It was Mother to Eric's rescue.  If Mother
and Bonnie knew what I knew about those three boys, and what they would
most likely be doing to entertain themselves for the evening, they would
agree that the three of us had to be absolutely nuts!

Before leaving the house, I took the three boys aside for a serious talk.
After letting them know that I was well aware of their plans, we talked
about trust.  I trusted them to behave, not disturb the neighbors, or
destroy the house.  The promise I left with them was that if I heard about
any problems, when I returned I would hang all three of them in the closet,
by their heels, and lock the door.  Eric wanted to know why and I thought
Frank and Mike were going to hit him.  I explained to Eric that by hanging
them by the heels, all their blood would drain down towards the brain.
When a sufficient amount drained down, most of his favorite play toys would
rot and fall off.

                                           * * * *

After calling the hospital and learning that Sean was asleep for the night,
thanks to some little magic pills, I took the shuttle to the airport hotel.
I had thought of going straight to the hospital, but I was tired and knew I
needed rest.  The desk clerk looked as worn out as I felt.

A phone rang through the fog.  It took me a couple of minutes to wake up
enough to realize it was my cell phone.  I wasn't awake enough to remember
to check the caller id.

"Hello," I answered, I think.

"Dad?"  I recognized the voice but the name was a blur.  "Dad?  Are you
awake?"

"Noooo," I answered honestly.  "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Dad, it's after eight-thirty."  I was finally awake enough to realize I
was talking to Michael.

"Oh, crap!" The most intelligent thing I could think of before my morning
cup of coffee.  "I'm glad you called, son.  I need to get to the hospital."
Then I remembered that he called me.  "Why are you calling?"

"I wanted ta find out if you'd seen Sean and how he was.  You already told
me you had'n."

"All I can tell you right now, Mike, is that the nurse told me last night
that he was resting and would sleep through the night thanks to some pills
they gave him."

"Dad, will you call me when you . . .," Mike sounded scared; I understood.

"I promise, son, I will," I replied, trying to sound as understanding and
supportive as I could.  "I'm supposed to meet Sgt. Morgan at ten this
morning.  Soon as I know something, I'll call you; promise.  Are you boys
doing okay?"

"Yes, sir.  I pulled out some bacon and I'm gonna put it on medium like you
said, unless it starts poppin', then I'll turn it down some.  Grandma told
us how Grandpa used ta get up on Sunday mornings and cook breakfast for you
and Aunt Bonnie.  She said that he'd cook the bacon in the pan, drain off
most of the grease and then scramble eggs in the same pan.  It kinda sounds
gross but Eric and Frank wanna try it."  I was able to smile without Mike
seeing me.  I knew that Mr. Macho-Eat-Healthy-All-The-Time really wanted to
try it too; he just couldn't admit it.

"Well, you guys enjoy.  Remember, your grandmother will be coming over this
afternoon."

"We know, Dad.  We promise we won't be naked when she comes.  Grandma said
she'd call us before she came over.  But, guess what?"  I should have
stopped while I was ahead.  "Eric was one horny dude last night; most of
the night, actually."

                                           * * * *

At ten o'clock I stepped off the hospital elevator.  There was a small
sitting area opposite the elevator occupied by a gentleman who appeared to
be in his early fifties.  Casually dressed, he had the salt and pepper hair
typical of someone of his years; he also had a slight stomach pooch that I
knew Michael would not approve of.  Michael would approve of the broad
shoulders and strong hands that suggested this was a man that had pumped a
little iron in his day.  He looked at me for a moment, showing a slight
smile.

"Mr. Geoghagan?"

"Sgt. Morgan?  Rick Geoghagan."  We shook hands and exchanged the customary
pleasantries of 'nice to meet you' ? 'wish it were under better
circumstances'.

"Sergeant, should we talk, or could I check on Sean first?"

"The nurse is with him now; he's getting his morning clean-up and fresh
bandages.  He just went in and said it would be about fifteen minutes.
Care for a cup of coffee?"  Sgt.  Morgan spoke in a very pleasant tone and
turned to point to a small pot of fresh smelling coffee.  Caffeine, starter
fluid, was on my list of needs at the moment.

"Mr. Geoghagan, we know that Sean was attacked and beaten; that's obvious.
What's not obvious is who did it and why.  We do have some ideas.  You see,
this is the fourth time this has happened to a teenage boy since this past
September.  The MO appears too close for coincidence, and the all of the
boys attend the same school."

"Obviously, you think it's someone from his school targeting the boys?"

"We think that it's either someone from the school or someone is targeting
boys at that particular school.  The other three boys were also beaten up
pretty bad and are scared to death; they won't talk to us.  There's one
other thing the other three boys have in common."  When he paused I knew he
was trying to read how I might react to what he was going to say.  "The
other three boys have admitted to us that they are gay."

I'm not sure what my visible reaction was, but I suddenly felt like someone
had kicked me in the gut.  You hear stories about people who have different
life styles being the target of ridicule and sometimes, physical violence.
It's the kind of thing that happens everyday, everywhere, except to someone
close to you and in your hometown.  We had moved to Florida, but the move
was recent enough for me to still consider this home.

"Has Sean said anything?"

"No.  He won't talk to us.  When I try to talk with him, it's fairly
obvious that he's frightened.  My guess is that whoever did this threatened
to do serious harm to him or someone close to him if he says anything.  He
won't talk to his mother either.  I'm hoping he will talk to you.  His
mother says that Sean views you as his substitute dad."  The way
Sgt. Morgan looked at me I could tell he was still trying to figure out how
much I knew about Sean.

"Sergeant, I can tell you this much.  Sean is like a lot of boys his age;
he's still trying to figure out who he is and what his values are.  He's
told me that he has experimented some with sex.  You'll have to ask him
about the gay part."

Sergeant Morgan continued to look at me.  The look wasn't as accusatorial
as it was questioning.  He was trying to figure out how much I might know
that I wasn't revealing.  I felt that it was up to Sean to let others know
about his sexuality.

Just then, the nurse left the room, walked towards us and let us know we
could go in.

"Mr. Geoghagan, let me caution you that Sean probably looks worse than he
really is.  The beating he took was to send a message, so they made sure to
get him where it would be difficult to hide the marks.  The doctors told us
he has a couple of broken and cracked ribs, plus two fingers on his right
hand are broken where it appears they stomped him.  The rest is bruises and
swelling except for possibly optical damage."

The sergeant's caution wasn't enough to keep from stopping my breathing
when I walked into the room.  Maybe it could have been worse, but I was
sure glad that it wasn't.  When I walked in Sean looked tired.  He lay in
the bed looking towards the window.  The only view outside the window was
the backside of another wing to the hospital.  It took a moment for him to
realize someone else was in the room.  When he looked at me, my heart
almost broke.  I'm not sure which one of us wanted to cry the most.

Sean had a large patch over the area just above his left eye.  The swelling
and bruising was obvious.  A white bandage that looked like an oversize
band-aid was across the bridge of his nose.  I assumed it covered a cut.
His lip was cut in a couple of places, and swollen on the right side.  The
right side of his face also appeared to be swollen.  There was more black
and blue to his coloring than there was flesh tone.  When I looked closer I
saw a bandage over his right ear, but I couldn't tell what kind of damage
the bandage was covering.  Someone had been nothing short of evil and
sadistic.

Sean's lips moved, but no words came out.  He didn't need to say anything;
his eyes said it all for him.  I stepped to the side of his bed, sat down
gently, and let him melt into my arms.  When he put his right arm around
me, I notice the splints on his two middle fingers.  He cried.  He didn't
bawl and make a big scene; he just cried and released the fear and tension.
I shed a few tears of my own.

A shadow moved across the wall letting me know someone had walked into the
room.  Momentarily, Phyllis and Sergeant Morgan were standing next to me.
Sean didn't realize they were in the room.  They both watched as the
frightened boy squeezed me more than held on to me.  Everyone knew that,
before Sean would talk, he had to release some of the fear and hurt.  He
was a teenager, which only means he was a bigger boy, with the same need to
feel loved and protected as any child.  When I felt the tears slowing, I
pushed him back by his shoulders so I could look at him.

"Hey, kiddo; you look like hell. You know that?"

The tears had been running and the nose still ran.  He looked at me and
tried to stifle a laugh, but failed.  When he did laugh a little, he
grabbed his sides and cringed; a look of solid pain.

"Don't Mr. G," Sean whined.  He caught his breath.  "Don't make me laugh;
it hurts too much."  Sean turned and saw his mom and the sergeant; a look
of distrust suddenly appeared.

"Sergeant Morgan is the one who called to let me know you were in trouble
and had been hurt.  He's the one responsible for me being here."  Sean's
look softened.  "What on earth happened to make you look so bad?"  Sean
gave me a slight smile.

"I guess I kinda fu . . ," Sean glanced at his mom, ". . . uuhh, messed up,
huh?"

I glanced over at Phyllis and the sergeant.  They got the message and left
us to get some coffee.  After they left the room, I closed the door.
Sitting in a chair next to his bed, I just looked at him and waited.

"Mr. Geee?  Don't, pleeeaase?" Sean pleaded.  I really felt for him.

"Sean, listen to me."  The tension I felt inside wanted to explode; I knew
I needed to remain calm, and sound calm, if I was going to get anywhere
with Sean.

"You've already told me you fucked up.  I need for you to tell me how.  Do
you realize you're not the first boy this has happened to in the past few
months?  Three other boys from your school have suffered this same problem.
Now, I know you had to see who did this.  Talk to me, Sean.  It's the only
way I can help you."

"Mr. G, you know what'll happen ta me if I squeal on 'em?  I won't be able
ta go anywhere without somebody pointin' to the rat boy or one of their
friends jumpin' me.  My life'd be over.  You don't know; you don't
understand, Mr. G."  I could hear the fear in his voice.

"Sean, I understand, I really do.  All kids, every generation, have this
unwritten rule about not squealing on other kids.  But, look at it this
way.  If you let them get away with this, they win.  It's that simple.
They break the law, they disrespect you and every other person around that
might be a little different and get away with it.  This happened to three
other boys that didn't squeal.  They were scared and kept quiet.  The guys
that hurt them went free and, assuming they are the same ones, those guys
jumped you.  Do you want to send these guys a message that it's alright to
jump people and beat them up?"  He had begun to cry again and I could see
his hands shaking.

"Sean, I'm not trying to punish you or hurt you in any way.  I want you to
understand that you can not run.  Run now and it's easier to run the next
time something bad happens.  The worst part, son, is eventually you'll
start taking a dim view of yourself; your self- esteem drops and the
quality of life goes with it."

He lay in his bed with the back half up.  He didn't say any more and I
didn't push; Sean needed time to think.

"I didn't even say hello to your mother when she came in.  Rest for a few
minutes and I'll be back, okay?"  He looked up and tried to give me a
smile.  I wasn't sure which feelings were the strongest, my anger towards
whoever did this, or my concern for Sean.  I knew, deep down, it was for
the boy.

As I approached Phyllis and the sergeant, they gave me an expectant look.
I held my hands out, palms forward.

"Right now he's one very frightened young man.  Kids have this unwritten
code about not telling on one another.  He's also afraid of what might
happen if the people who did this find out he talked."  I poured myself
another cup of coffee and continued.

"My guess is that he knows who did this and can identify them.  I'm also
guessing, Sergeant, that you were correct about it being someone from his
school.  We talked a little and I left him there thinking."

"Did you mention the other three boys to him?"  I nodded.  "How did he
react?"

"Actually, I don't think he did react.  I'm not sure if it just didn't sink
in with him or he knew."

I returned to Sean's room.  When I walked in he looked at me like he wasn't
sure he wanted me there.  I was becoming the heavy and needed to turn it
around.

"Sean, I'm not going to badger you about who did this.  I've said all I can
say; it's up to you.  However, I would appreciate it if you told me how you
got into this mess.  Can you do that?"

Sean leaned into me, resting his head on my shoulder.  As I had done so
many times with my boys, and with Sean on occasion, I wrapped an arm around
him and guided him to lay down with his head in my lap.  It was a little
awkward with me sitting on the edge of the bed and it hurt a little from
the sound of the muffled moans and grunts, but he made it; he wanted it.  I
didn't say anything; I ran my fingers through his hair and waited.  It only
took a couple of minutes for him to begin.

"After ya'll left, I was all alone.  I know you said I could come visit,
but what was I supposed to do in between?  I was tryin' ta make some more
friends at school and there was this one guy who seemed nice.  I mean, I
wasn't lookin' for some sex partner or nothin', just a friend; know what I
mean?"  I just gave him a couple of light pats to his back.

"We got ta where we'd sit together in the cafeteria and we had two classes
together.  We joked around some and bitched about the teachers and all the
homework, normal stuff."  I could feel him tense up and ran my fingers
through his hair a little stronger.

"Anyway, after a couple weeks he started sayin' stuff, you know, guy stuff
like talkin' 'bout chic's tits and stuff.  Sometimes we'd joke around 'bout
some of the new style jeans, you know the ones that barely cover the tackle
and stuff?  Anyway, a few days ago he said he and some buddies was gonna
get together for a guy's day.  They were just gonna sit around and drink a
couple beers each and watch some movies.  He said they was porn movies and
asked me if I wanted to go with 'em.  I said okay.

"The party was yesterday, Mr. G.  When we got to his friend's place we went
to this room he said his dad used for an office.  It was in a little
building out back and was private so nobody'd bother us.  When we got
there, it was just me and three of them.  We walked in and they locked the
door.  One of the guys pulled his dick out and said he had a present for
the fag."  Sean cried and I just held him.

"Mr. G, you wouldn't believe the shit they done to me.  They kept sayin'
how they saw how I looked at 'em and they knew I had the hots for 'em.  It
wasn't true, Mr. G, I swear.  They just laughed at me and knocked me down
on this dirty old mattress on the floor.  Two of 'em held me while the
third one stripped me."  Sean tried to control his crying and gasping,
"They fucked me, Mr. G.  They fucked me; they dry fucked me.  One of 'em,
instead of cummin' in me, he pissed inside me.  Gaahhd, I felt like
garbage!"

I saw the shadows on the wall.  Phyllis and Sergeant Morgan had heard most
of it.  They backed out of the room so as not to embarrass Sean.  I
continued to sit there and hold him.  Sean needed to cry and I let him.
After a few minutes, I pressed the call button for the nurse.  When she
came in and saw the problem she looked at me and nodded.  Sean was out less
than five minutes after the shot.  He would sleep for a couple of hours.

"Now I understand why he's reluctant to talk, Sergeant.  He doesn't want
the kids at school to know that he was raped.  Did you know about that
part?"

"I know the doctor in emergency examined him and said he had been abused.
Sean wouldn't tell anyone how he was abused.  Now we know.  The doctor also
said it was rough enough to tear some external tissue, but internally, he's
just bruised; nothing permanent."

"Sergeant, I'd say the mental and emotional scars that boy will have to
live with for the rest of his life are pretty permanent."

"You misunderstand me, Mr. Geoghagan, I meant . . ."

"Sergeant, I understand what you meant.  I didn't mean for it to sound like
I was attacking you.  It just really pissed me off."

Phyllis stood to the side, listening.  She had her back to us.  When she
turned around, I could tell she had been crying.

"Rick, the nurse said Sean would sleep for a couple of hours.  Can we go
downstairs to the coffee shop and talk?  Could I buy your lunch?  You too,
Sergeant."

The three of us remained quiet as we walked to the cafeteria.  Somehow,
talking about this as we walked through the halls just didn't seem right.
My intention was to get a cup of coffee and talk a few minutes.  When we
entered the cafeteria the aroma of freshly cooked food attacked my senses
and I realized I was hungry.  After picking out what we wanted we located a
table situated off to one side where we could have a little privacy.

"Sergeant," I began, "what are your next steps.  Is there any chance of
bringing these boys in without Sean identifying them?"

"Bring them in?  Yes.  Get a conviction; probably not.  We're hoping to get
more than just Sean's identification and testimony.  Phyllis, my apologies
if this seems a little crude, but we're hoping the doctors can get a semen
sample out of Sean so we can do a couple of tests and confirm who raped
him."  I heard Phyllis gasp and then take a deep breath.

"Were you able to recover samples from the other boys?"

"Yes, but they wouldn't identify who attacked them.  We didn't know who to
go after.  If Sean will identify the boys we can get a court order to run
the tests.  We could also bring in the samples retrieved from the other
boys.  That should be enough for us to get a conviction."

"Assuming you get a conviction, what happens to those boys?  If all they
get is a slap on the back of their hands and probation, Sean will be in the
same position he's trying to avoid now."

"I can't guarantee anything, ma'am.  The judge and the district attorney
will have to work on that part.  It just seems to me that, given how
vicious the attack was, the obvious intent to do serious bodily harm, plus
statutory sodomy, I can not imagine the attackers getting off without
spending some time as guests of the state."

The three of us sat at the table nibbling at our food, deep in our own
thoughts.  Phyllis broke the silence.

"Rick, you've been able to get more information from Sean in a few minutes,
than either of us has gotten since all this happened.  You know how Sean
feels about you and your boys." Phyllis paused to keep control of her
emotions.  "I think this is the type of thing that he will only talk about
with another man.  He's of the age that this subject matter is off limits,
even to his mother."  She gave me a pleading look with her eyes.

"Phyllis, you know how much we think of Sean.  A lot of people tease him
about being my third son.  Don't worry, the boys and I will be here for
him."  I tried to smile a little to lighten the moment.  "In fact, Mike is
probably mad with me now for not having Sean call him."

Phyllis understood; she knew how close the boys were.  I had the feeling
that she suspected the boys might be a little closer than just friends
sometimes.  She turned her attention to the sergeant.

"Sergeant Morgan," Phyllis held her cup of coffee in one hand and ran the
first finger of her other hand around the rim; she spoke slowly and calmly.
"I don't know if it's appropriate for you to reveal this, but could you
tell me who the other boys were and whether they still live locally."  The
sergeant studied her for a moment before answering.

"I can tell you as much as was printed in the papers.  I'm afraid I can't
reveal any personal information that may be in our files."  Phyllis looked
at the Sergeant and nodded.  "The boys, at least two that I know of, are
still local and attending another school.  Their names are Josh and Keith.
I can't tell you any more without parental consent."

"Sergeant, you said you needed more evidence.  If Sean will identify the
boys and one of these other boys will speak up, is that sufficient?"

"Phyllis, there may be a problem."  I didn't think Phyllis really
understood the unwritten rules in a teenage boy's world.  "Those boys are
probably walking around in fear today.  If they wouldn't speak up when they
were hurt, at a time when they should have wanted revenge, I doubt they'll
talk now.  It wouldn't surprise me to learn they're afraid to go out alone
or attend any functions where they think these other boys might be.  That's
one of the things I was trying to impress on Sean.  He shouldn't have to
live the rest of his years being afraid.  More importantly, he shouldn't
refuse to identify the boys now and regret it later.  When I say regret,
I'm not only talking about another boy being hurt, but Sean's self esteem.
To me, that's more important.  Self esteem is critical for a boy his age."

"Mr. Geoghagan, let me leave my card with you.  If Sean decides he wants to
talk, call and I'll be here."

"Sergeant, if he does agree to talk, I can tell you he's going to be
afraid.  Any kid could walk in here and threaten him and we wouldn't know
the difference."

"I understand.  I can do this.  If he agrees to talk, I can have a
volunteer off-duty officer sitting right outside his door so long as he's
here.  Do you think that would help?  There's a lot of cops in this city
that get upset when they see a kid hurt like this."

                                           * * * *

Phyllis and I sat in Sean's room, waiting for him to wake up.  We spoke
quietly to one another, mostly exchanging stories of some of the things the
boys had done.  Some were funny, some were dumb, and some just plain
stupid; it's all part of being a kid.  We laughed hardest thinking of the
times the boys would pull stunts that had us so mad we wanted to trade them
in.  Somehow, through it all, we knew there was no way we would really
consider trading them off; we just didn't want them to know that.  Besides,
we both agreed, there was probably no one else that would be willing to put
up with them.

Sean's sleep was fitful and restless.  He didn't stay in one position long.
As he shifted on the bed he would moan and whimper.  His whimpers were not
the kind that come from pleasure, they were just the opposite.  We couldn't
tell though if he was in pain or if he was dreaming, possibly reliving that
afternoon.  We decided he was most likely dreaming about the attack as we
watched his face scrunch up and he began to sweat.  Phyllis wet a washcloth
that was in the bathroom and wiped her son's brow.  It took another parent
to understand how much she was also hurting.  There's no worse feeling than
watching your child suffer and not be able to relieve the pain.

"Rick," Phyllis spoke tentatively, "there's something I wanted to talk to
you about.  I'm not too sure how to say it or really where to begin.  Maybe
it's just best if I say it straight out."  I turned to look directly at
her.  "I'm Sean's mother and, although I may not show it as much as I
should, Sean is everything to me.  I love that boy more than words could
ever say.  Right now, my love for him is not enough.  There are things that
will be happening to him that no boy is going to discuss with his mother.
Sean is at an age where he needs a man to talk to, a man to show and teach
him how to be a man."  We sat in silence for a minute or two.  Before we
could finish our conversation, Sean demanded attention.

"Mo-o-om?" He sounded weak and in pain.  "That you?"

"I'm right here, Sean," Phyllis answered as she stepped up beside his bed.

"It hurts, Mom," Sean whined, the little boy in him coming out.

"I know, baby.  Lay still and I'll talk to the nurse about getting you some
pain pills."

Phyllis left the room and Sean quickly looked over at me.

"Mr. G.  I got a problem and I gotta take care of it before Mom gets back.
I really need ta take a dump and I can't get outta bed with this plastic
tube shoved up my dick.  This thing's awful!"  I couldn't help but smile.

"If you think that tube is awful, how do you think you would have felt if
you wet the bed?" I told him as I looked in the cabinets for a bed pan.
Found it.

"No, Mr. G, not that.  I mean, couldn't you just take that tube out and I
can go to the bathroom?  You could put it back when I got back in bed."
You had to admire the simplicity of his thinking.

"Sean, it doesn't work like that.  A nurse will have to remove the tube.
Besides, I don't think they want you up and moving about right now.  Also,
if I tried to pick you up and carry you, you would think the pain you're
feeling now was a tickle compared to what pressure on those ribs would feel
like.  Now, roll on your side and I'll put this in place.  You want me to
get your mom to help you?"

"No!  No Way!  That's not even funny, Mr. G.  It's okay for you to see me
naked, you're a guy."

"Well, I appreciate you letting me know that."

I couldn't help but think some of this was funny and had to laugh a little.
The kid part of Sean was coming through in bright neon colors.  The funny
part ended when he tried to push a little and the pain set in.

"Ohhh, fuck!  Mr. G!  God, it hurts."

"Sean, don't force anything.  Relax and let nature take its course.  You
don't have to be finished in a hurry.  If someone comes in we'll just let
them know there's a personal matter being taken care of."  He didn't say
anything, but he sure blushed.  In walked the nurse; Sean looked ready to
panic.

"Nurse, he's handling a rather personal matter at the moment."  I laughed
when the nurse just lifted the sheet and saw Sean in all his glory.  I
really felt bad for the kid, but it was funny.

"Excuse me," I said to the nurse to distract her, "he was wondering if it
would be possible to have the catheter removed?"

"I can take it out, but he has to promise not to get out of that bed.
He'll have to use the urinal cup."

"But, what'll I do if I have ta go to the bathroom?"  Sean pleaded.

"Same thing you're doing right now."  The nurse answered simply.

"Sean, I'm sure the hospital has male orderlies that can help if you need
it."

"Oh, I see," the nurse commented, "the easily embarrassed type, huh.  Young
man, I've seen more naked boys and young men in this hospital than you can
count.  You won't be showing me anything I haven't seen before."

"You haven't seen me and I don't want to put on a show."

"Wanna bet?  Who do you think put that tube in there?" The nurse grinned
from ear to ear, having a good time teasing poor Sean who about ready to
die from humiliation.

Without saying another word, the nurse lifted the side of the sheet,
exposing Sean to the whole world.  She moved so quickly, he didn't have
time to object.  She picked up his penis and slowly pulled the tube out.
Sean hissed, drawing the air through clenched teeth.  To top it all off,
Phyllis walked into the room in the middle of the procedure.

"MOM!  PLEASE!"  I think Sean turned a little white when the blood stopped
circulating from embarrassment.  Phyllis looked down and rushed back out,
closing the door behind her.  The door actually remained cracked and I
could see her standing in the hall, laughing.

The nurse left and Sean let me know he had finished his business.  He let
me know he wanted off that pan.  When I removed the pan and cleaned him up,
I covered him and let him know I was going to get his mother.

"Before you go, Mr. G, can you hand me the pee cup, please?"

"Sean, you shouldn't need to urinate at this point.  That tube was pushed
into your bladder to keep it drained."

"I can't help it, I feel like I'm 'bout ta bust.  There was no way I was
gonna pee in that pan; then I'd have my butt hangin' in my own pee.  That's
gross!  'Specially if you've already been usin' the pan.  All that. . . ."

"That's okay, Sean, I don't need the details.  I get the general idea.
I'll leave you with the urinal cup and I'll walk your mother down the hall
so you can have some privacy.  Oh, and here, take my cell phone and call
the boys when you're finished.  They're worried, too."

When I walked out to the hall, Phyllis turned to look at me.  We exchanged
one of those smiles that parents have occasionally when they realize their
kids have done something funny but don't want to laugh in front of them.

"You know, Rick, I can remember when he was little.  He was like most
little kids, I guess.  You couldn't slow him down long enough to get
clothes on him.  He always wanted to 'run free' as he called it.  Then one
day, when he was about ten, he became modest and I wasn't allowed to see
him naked again." She looked over at me and smiled.

"He's told me you let them go skinny dipping in the pool and hot-tub.  I
just wanted you to know that I don't object.  I'm glad he can be himself
and be comfortable around you and yours sons.  The only thing I regret is
that I can't be a fly on the wall sometimes and see some of the things they
get into."  Right then, I really didn't want her to ask me what the boys
did.

"OOHHH GAAHHDD! . . .OOHHH!! . . .AAWWWWWWW!! . . .MR GEEEEEEE! . .  OHH
GAAHHD!!"

It took a moment to realize it was Sean crying out.  I almost started to
run back to the room but, instead, leaned against the wall and began
laughing.  Phyllis gave me a quizzical look.

"I didn't caution him that the first time you urinate after the catheter is
removed it hurts, and burns, like you would never believe.  You are truly
pouring salt over an open wound."  I laughed a couple of more times before
I continued.  "Poor Sean.  At this rate his recuperation could be more
painful than his injuries."


End Ch Twenty-Six

To Be Continued
Comments Welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com