Date: Thu, 7 Nov 2013 12:42:56 -0500
From: Eff Del <nolitimere156@gmail.com>
Subject: Young-But Daily Growing-Part 20

Young-but Daily Growing-Part 20

By Eff Del


For some reason we are taught to eschew pride and view it as a sin.

Why should honest pride be avoided when often it is our only reward for
accomplishment? There is no great evil in such a simple and honest pleasure.

There is no wrongness involved in finding gratification over having
achieved something difficult or having performed some deed particularly
well.

The harm is when the pride takes precedence over the accomplishment and we
exaggerate our worth and hold our accomplishments in excessive esteem.

If we forget the source of all that we are, then our pride is false and
malignant.

Of all of mankind's faults, heaven distains hubris most of all.

The display alcove I'd designed and had constructed for Sean's trophies,
ribbons and medals was complete. Though smaller than the room my father had
used to display the awards Kyle and I had earned, it complimented that
space very well and flowed naturally as you walked down the hall giving the
appearance of having been part of the original design.

I was resting a hand on Sean's shoulder as I showed it to him.

In one competitive swimming season he had already accumulated an impressive
collection of medals and several trophies. With his considerable talents I
was certain many more awards and honors would follow.

Higher up on the back wall was the hardware for the shelf that I intended
to have installed later.

This would be the shelf that I secretly hoped would hold the State
All-Around Swimming Championship trophy identical to the one Kyle had
earned.

That particular trophy, recently broken, had just been returned from the
repair shop and was sitting- good as new- on its shelf in the large trophy
room Kyle and I had dubbed "Father's Alter".

When it had been delivered and inspected Sean was noticeably relieved and
with my assistance I had allowed him to climb the step stool place it back
onto its shelf.

"So this room is just for my stuff?" Sean asked as he looked around.

"You bet little man. This is the "Samurai Sean Room" from now on."

He smiled up at me and said;

"So even after I go back to the NEST, some of me is gonna always be here
huh?

That's neat Eric."

I felt an uncomfortable pang.

"How long? How long are you going to string him on?

 How long before you tell him? How long before he knows that he's never
going back to that vile place?" I heard a voice inside me ask fervently.

"Soon" I thought.

"Soon...when he's learned that he is not a part of that ugly life...when he's
learned he is not owned or controlled by that evil culture; that it's not
his destiny...when he's learned his true value...when I've taught him that he
is so very loved and that he can love in return with no prerequisites or
limitations.

I'm trying so hard to make the right decision...so hard to find the path that
is right for both of us...it will be soon...I promise."

His voice summoned me away me from my private conflict;

"What's THAT doing on the wall?" he asked pointing to the wooden paddle
hanging above one of the glass cases.

 I'd had the date of the horrible spanking neatly painted on the flat
blade; "March 15" and below it the Latin "numquam"...never again.

It had been several days after the fact that I'd recognized the date for
what it was.

Like Caesar of old, someone should have warned Sean and me to beware the
"Ides of March".

"That hangs there as a memento just between you and me and it will always
hang there as a symbol and reminder of pride and shame.

 It is representative of something terrible and hopeful. It belongs here
just as much as all of your other ribbons, medals and trophies."

I squeezed his shoulder and he leaned into me resting his head against my
side.

***********

The week before the State Championship was upon us and the entire county
was going crazy with excitement.

Every storefront was festooned with some type of "Seven Swimming Samurai"
poster or banner.

The boys' pictures were in all of the newspapers every day and none of them
could walk anyplace in town without being surrounded by well-wishers. They
had become a local phenomenon.

All seven of them handled their new celebrity like typical 11-12 year old
boys hence they were puffed up and insufferable. Even Martha had felt the
need to cut our own little rooster down a peg or two on several occasions.

That Monday, all of the involved adults had gathered in the big meeting
room at the Club House and went over logistics.

The meet was, of course, being held at the large Sports Complex in the
state capital which was about a five hour drive from us.

It was decided to rent two charter busses to carry staff, family and club
officials up to the meet. Any remaining seats would be sold at cost to
"fans" who wished to accompany them up for the event and cheer the boys on.

I volunteered my jet to fly the boys, Coach Riorden and his two assistants
up so that the boys would not be fatigued by a long drive. This offer was
enthusiastically accepted and so, Thursday night the solarium had been
turned into a campground once again.

The excitement was so palpable that the air actually felt thick with it.

The walls of the mansion rang with the raucous enthusiasm of seven little
boys who were charged to the breaking point with excitement and so full of
themselves that they were rather consistently annoying.

Jokes, laughter, brags and taunts flew around and across the big table in
the dining room as they wolfed down multiple plates full of Martha's roast
beef, mashed potatoes and carrots.

All but Rico looked skeptically at the grilled asparagus until Sean
solemnly swore that it was "the best thing you ever ate".

I just rolled my eyes to the ceiling and tried to eat my meal in peace.

As apple pie a- la- mode was being served, I stood up and called for their
attention.

"Listen up guys!" I had to shout before seven little faces looked up at me
with remarkably serious expressions.

"Now, I know you're excited and jazzed about this whole thing but tomorrow
is going to be a busy day for you all.

We leave for the airport very early, it'll be about a one hour flight, then
we've got to get checked into your dorm at the sports complex and I know
Coach is planning a short but important practice session."

They looked at each other and began a chattering and animated conversation
that quickly grew in volume.

"Listen guys!" I had to force their attention again.

"Here's what I suggest; if you want, you can play in the pool for an
hour...nothing strenuous and no horsing around."

"Can we be naked again?"  I didn't catch which one actually asked the
question but they were all enthusiastically indicating that was their
mutual hope.

"I don't see why not but remember...same rules as last time and just one
hour... then its showers and sleeping bags... strict lights out by 9:00 OK?"

The lights out part went over like the famous lead balloon and negotiations
and counter offers began flying around the table. I finally yielded to
pressure and extended the time to 9:30.

"OK then scoot on down to the pool your time is a wasting" I said and they
were up before I'd finished speaking.

They lined up in the kitchen for Martha's hugs and the room echoed with
"Thank you Mrs. Edwards" repeated in some form or another seven times.

I dashed upstairs to get into my trunks and then headed downstairs to the
pool.

They were waiting by the diving board naked and beautiful, long lithe legs
prancing restlessly and small perfect ass muscles flexing as they moved,
arms folded across their chests to warm them from the air that swirled
moist and cool around the pool area.

They were surrounding little Mike who was waving them away in obvious
embarrassment.

"Lookit Mr. T...Mikey must like us a lot!" called out a grinning Rico. "See,
he gots a boner!"

They all laughed hysterically while pointing at the slender boy who was
trying to cover his obviously erect little 3 or four inch penis while the
others kept pulling his hands away. He was blushing from embarrassment but
giggling at the same time.

Finally, he could stand it no more and he raced to the side of the pool and
plunged in. He broke the surface and shook his dirty blond hair out of his
eyes grinning broadly.

"Better than you Rico" he taunted from the water "Your dick is so small
that nobody can tell when you got a hard on or not!"

Amid jeers and hoots Rico dived in and took off swimming after Mike until
he'd caught the smaller boy and dunked him dramatically.

The remaining five boys found this entire exchange wonderfully amusing and
they were all laughing and exchanging jibes as they collectively jumped
into the pool.

Once again I found myself sitting on a chair with a raging hard dick
struggling against the confines of my swim trunks as I watched the seven
naked little beauties frolic in the water.

I declined several earnest and emotionally delivered pleas that I come into
the water and toss them around insisting I didn't want any monkey shines
tonight.

I still had to intervene and tone down their enthusiastic interactions
three or four times before their allotted hour was up and I sent them
hustling off to the locker room to rinse off.

I watched as seven of the cutest little asses in the world jiggled their
way into the showers.

*****

"Ok guys, there's a half an hour before lights out and I've got a special
treat for you. Sean's teacher; Professor Swaim is going to tell you all a
story. Why don't you pull your sleeping bags over here and form a
semi-circle?"

The Professor had been sitting off to the side and he now stood up and
walked to the top of the grouping of sleeping bags as the boys shifted
position so that they were each facing him sitting on their bags with legs
crossed.

Not all of the boys had ever seen the Professor before and none of them
knew him personally.

I had overheard Sean confiding to his friends that his teacher was "really
a wizard "on several occasions and so, that reputation coupled with his
formidable size commanded the instant attention of the entire group.

I'd lowered the room lights to a faint orange glow almost simulating a
dying campfire and I settled myself down to listen. I had to fight off the
temptation to make my way into the group and sit next to Sean. I knew full
well how inappropriate that would be but I tingled with anticipation
knowing the pleasure these boys were about to experience and I wished I
could share it with him closely... touching him in some way.

Doc Swaim was, in my opinion at least, the greatest story teller in the
entire world.

I could still remember vividly the very first time a 13 year old me had sat
cross legged in front of a fire place enthralled as he wove one of his
tales.

Closing my eyes now, I could almost feel my father's strong arms wrapped
around me as we sat together and listened while the big man filled the room
with magic and fantasy. I was thrilled even now by this fantastic treat.

In the dim light he stood slightly hunched over the already rapt boys.

He was almost cloaked in darkness so that his large form was a haunting
transformation of light and shadow that shifted and played across him as he
moved.

 His powerful voice rumbled like a thunder clap across the room;

"Listen!... Listen my heroes and learn the story that comes from the far
gold and iron clad past when the courage of kings was constant and
champions rose from among the ranks of men to test their mettle in battle
against the darkness and the EVIL..."

I felt a chill run up my spine. He was going to tell one of my very
favorites; the tale of Kynan Meradec and his battles with the stone ravens
and the giant; Cewri.

I was 13 years old again and I was spell bound.

He told his story in carefully measured cadence and his voice made subtle
changes to become the different characters as well as the raging forces of
nature and magic.

His arms circled dramatically and his hands drew phantom pictures of action
and emotion pulling in the captured attention and imagination of his
listeners and weaving them mystically into the experience and very fabric
of the telling.

This was better than any television...better than any movie ever made.

It must have been just like this thousands of years ago in the dark stone
halls at the beginning of history...this was how mankind was entertained and
how he learned about the world around him through a story teller with the
shadows battling the dancing firelight for dominant places on the hard cold
walls.

This was basic, primitive and wonderful.

I don't think one of the boys even moved a muscle through the entire tale
and their eyes never left him for even a second. Their little mouths hung
open in wonder.

"And there is ever more to tell ...but not this night.

Sleep well my heroes and rise refreshed and brave... steeled for new battle."

He ended the story and abruptly became just a man again. I heard seven
little gasps as the boys took in gulps of air...they had almost forgotten to
breathe.

The murmurs of awe and approval flew between them and I knew that they
would each dream exciting dreams tonight as in their imaginations they
themselves became champions in the service of King Macsen Wledig and had
their own adventure.

"OK guys...you all know where the bathroom is so goodnight.

We've got an early morning." I said and I led a smiling Doctor Swaim down
the hall to the library for a couple of night caps.

*****

"You certainly haven't lost your touch Doc!" I shook my head admiringly as
I handed him his Jack and water.

"Now you're really going to have a hard time convincing Sean that you're
not a Wizard."

He cocked a bushy eyebrow at me and replied;

"And when did you decide that I'm not?" he smiled almost wickedly.

I looked at him for a second and then grinned.

"I'm not sure that I actually have."

We both laughed.

After walking the Professor to the back door I strolled down the hall to
make certain things were peaceful in the "campground" before I headed up to
bed.

Once again I heard the muffled moans and squeals. The sounds of little boy
curiosity and pleasure as I approached the door.

This time however, my wicked angel took control and I stepped inside the
room hidden by the shadows and looked in upon their shared erotic
experimentation.

They had broken up into two couples and one grouping of three. I was
fascinated by what I saw.

Buddy and Matty were kneeling facing each other knees touching and they had
reached across and were each stroking the other's erect dick.

Their movements were long and slow and were made in perfect unison. Their
mutual gratification was evident by the smiles that were obvious even in
the dim light.

To my astonishment, Sean and Rico were lying together in a classic 69
position and each was enthusiastically sucking on the other's cock.

Even from my hiding place I could hear their tiny squeaks of pleasure. I
watched as their little hands explored each other with quick genuine
passion as they mouthed and suckled the other's hard little rod.

Bulldog and Mike were lying stretched out side by side and kneeling between
them little Charlie had a hard little dick in each hand. He was stroking
them together while the two supine boys writhed in pleasure.

Mike had his hand on Charlie's stiffy but seemed to be having a hard time
concentrating on his task because he was so immersed in his own delight.

"Faster Charlie, pump me faster." Bulldog moaned and the smaller boy
murmured;

"What about me? Nobody's doing nothing to make me feel good."

"Aw Charlie...one of us will do you just as soon as we cum. Come on."

"Kay" said the little boy as he increased the pace of his dual strokes.

Feeling very much like an intruder and a dirty old voyeur (which I suppose
I was), I slipped out into the hall with a smile on my face.

 Obviously a lot more than just showering has been going on in the locker
room after team practice.

In my bedroom, I slipped out of my trunks and tee shirt and did what I
needed to do to calm the raging beast between my legs.

Relieved of that tension, I turned off the light and fell asleep at once.
My dreams were outrageous but very pleasant.

*****

It was still an hour before sunrise when I entered the solarium to raise
the sleeping boys. They were lying heaped together... a tangle of little arms
and legs. Soft sweet snores filled the air.

I put two fingers to my lips and let fly a shrill loud whistle. I was very
good at doing this. My skill had delighted Kyle to no end when he was
little.

Seven tousled haired heads shot up and peered at me with bleary heavy
lidded eyes.

Amid mumbles and grumbles they extricated themselves from their collective
heap and rubbing sleepy eyes they began to search out discarded under wear.

Being totally without guile, it never occurred to them that I might be
wondering why they had all been sleeping together and naked.

I noted with unspoken amusement that each of them sported a stiff little
cock as they shuffled off to the bathroom.

Suddenly one of them...I don't know who, cut a loud fart and they were all
reduced to gales of laughter.

I just shook my head. Our momentous day had begun.

Lovely young Jenny had breakfast duty that morning though I wasn't certain
the poor little thing had any idea what she'd gotten herself into with
seven hungry and excited boys sitting around the table.

She'd done wonderfully. With the help of two staff members working as
servers, milk, juice, cereal, toast, scrambled eggs and fresh fruit was
quickly placed in front of the little warriors and all was just as quickly
consumed.

Poor Martha relieved of kitchen duties while she got herself ready to leave
for the airport with us, was looking lost and perplexed because she wasn't
allowed to prepare any food for the flight and for that matter, she
wouldn't be cooking any meals until Monday. With nothing to do, she looked
totally lost.

Fortunately, Walter also noticed her distress and kindly found her a series
of little tasks to perform until it was time to leave.

John had brought the mini-bus I'd had him rent up to the front door and was
supervising the loading of baggage.

The professor had pulled "Shadowfax" his white Land Rover around front and
Walter was packing his and Martha's things into the back.

We were going to be a small caravan going to the airport and we still had
Clay Riorden and his two assistants meeting us there.

I was in the dining room trying vainly to supervise an orderly breakfast
but the seven boys were beyond managing any sense of calmness. They were
little rowdies talking and bragging about the upcoming championship
contests.

"We are soooo gonna win!" exclaimed Matty to the raucous agreement of the
bunch.

"Yeah! We're gonna win this thing!" Rico agreed through a mouthful of eggs.

"No!" it was Sean who said this and he stood up from his chair and with a
solemn straight face, arms crossed upon his chest he said;

"We don't win. Only the Farmers win."

 There was dead silence at the table and we all stared at him.

"What the heck are you talkin about Sean?" asked Matty.

 Sean spread his arms like a mystic. Slowly he looked up and a grin spread
across his face.

The little shit had just perfectly paraphrased the last line from "The
Magnificent Seven" I couldn't hold back my laughter.

As soon as the other boys realized what he'd done, he was assaulted with
hoots and laughter and if there had been any hidden tension among them it
was now gone.

"Ok boys...saddle up it's time to ride!" I said and with woops and wisecracks
we shuffled them out the door and into the waiting bus.

For Matty, Bulldog and Charlie this was going to be their first flight and
for the others except of course for Sean, it would be their first time in a
private jet.

Yesterday I'd phoned Captain Lucas and had alerted him to these facts and I
knew he'd make the flight as special as possible for the boys.

*****

As we pulled onto the tarmac of the airport I noticed that Clay Riorden and
the other two coaches were already standing by the jet. I opened my window
and leaned out and urged them to go on and get into the plane.

We piled out of the buss and the Professor, Walter and Martha climbed out
of Shadowfax as staff emptied both vehicles of luggage and loaded them onto
a waiting cart.

Doc Swaim and Walter helped Martha up the stairs and into the jet while
John and I herded the boys toward the plane.

Captain Lucas was waiting at the door to greet us.

"Good Morning Mr. Tucker, good morning John and hello again Sean." He
smiled down at the six other boys who stood looking very subdued and
impressed.

"And you are the rest of the famous "Seven Samurai" I expect."

The boys beamed with pleasure at this unexpected recognition. The pilot
shook each of their hands and they exchanged individual greetings.

"Welcome aboard it's a real treat to have you as passengers today. If
you'll all find a seat and get buckled in we'll be taking off momentarily
we've already got clearance.

Once we're in the air, if you'd like I'll bring you up front two at a time
and show you the cockpit."

This was naturally met with enthusiastic accord and my pilot smiled.

"Oh and Sean," he said placing a hand on my boy's shoulder "if you have
time, maybe later you can come up front and handle the plane while I have
my snack?" He arched an eyebrow in a conspiratorial manner.

The other six boys looked at Sean in awe.

"Handle the plane?" Rico asked.

Obviously pleased but trying hard to look casual and cool Sean muttered;

"Sometimes, Captain Lucas lets me fly the plane a while."

He wasn't very good at fibbing but it wasn't really a lie either. The truth
was that the Captain HAD allowed him to handle the controls on his first
flight- the one that seemed so very long ago.

We moved back into the cabin to find seats.

I made it a point to have Charlie sit with me and Sean while John sat
between Bulldog and Matty just in case their first take-off made them
nervous.

True to his word, Captain Lucas was taxiing the jet to the head of the
runway in just moments.

As the engine roared building up power for thrust, Sean leaned across my
body and smiled at Charlie who had become rigid and very white. I took the
little guy's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"This is the best part." I told him with a smile.

Across the aisle I noticed that John had the hands of both his boys and was
quietly speaking to them.

In a rush and a roar, the jet raced down the runway. In moments the nose
was up and the gear rotated. The labored roaring of the engines died down
to a normal sound and we had leveled off.

"Wow!" exclaimed a wide-eyed Charlie and a large smile quickly adorned his
little face.

"I told ya it was so neat!" responded Sean.

"Why don't you two share the window?" I said to Sean as I unbuckled and got
up so that he could move over and sit next to his friend.

I'd arraigned to have two attendants on this flight and they were soon out
into the cabin taking drink orders. One of them looked familiar to me but I
couldn't place him until Sean, smiling widely, greeted him;

"Hi Barry!"

"Hi Sean! Good to see you again."

It was the same young man who'd been our flight attendant when I'd brought
Sean home from the NEST.

I walked back to check on the other boys and Martha. I noticed that she was
already sipping on a glass of chardonnay so I knew she was alright.

The boys were all migrating to seats near each other so that they could
share the adventure together.

 I motioned to John, Walter and the Doc to follow me to the back of the
plane.

Along the way we collected Clay and his two assistants; Tim and Wayne.

We settled into the oval lounge seating at the rear of the cabin and I
signaled Barry over.

"Whiskey for my men and beer for my horses!" I told him and he looked at me
confused.

"Barry" I told him with a smile. "This is a short flight; we've all got
some serious drinking to do and very little time to do it."

We were soon sipping on our individual preference of adult beverage and
discussing everything from sports to politics. We even found time to talk
about the upcoming swim meet.

True to his word, Captain Lucas came back into the cockpit and escorted the
boys in groups of two up front.

When the third pair of smiling enthusiastic boys had been returned to the
back, he asked Sean to come up front with him. My little boy got up and
followed the pilot with a big smile.

When they returned about fifteen minutes later, Capt. Lucas made a point of
speaking loudly to Sean.

"Thanks for the help Sean and for your usual good job up there."

Grinning Sean replied;

"You're welcome Captain. Any time".

It was obvious to me that my pilot had been conspiring with Sean and they'd
come to an agreement that while stretching the truth wasn't exactly fibbing
either. If his friends wanted to beleive he flies the plane...oh well.

Because of some problem at the airport up ahead, the flight was slightly
delayed and took about a half an hour longer than expected.

After a smooth landing, Barry and his partner as well as Captain Lucas were
waiting by the door as we de-planed.

"Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure having you aboard. I'll see you all on
Sunday for the flight home. In the meantime, swim well and make us proud."

Almost in unison seven little voices piped;

"Thanks Captain. We will!"

*****

I'd arraigned to have two vans waiting for us. John drove one and Clay
Riorden, since he knew exactly where we were going, drove the other taking
the lead.

The State Sports Complex was new...just over a year old and this was my first
time visiting it.

I was very impressed as we were given a brief tour after Coach had
registered his team and staff.

In a separate building there were dormitories for each team with a common
rec room for the boys and a large cafeteria was on the ground floor. Coach
Riorden and his assistants would stay in separate rooms on the upper floor
of the building reserved so that coaches could be near their teams and yet
have some isolation and peace and quiet.

My entourage and I had rooms reserved at the Capital Inn near the complex
and so we bid the boys good bye until tomorrow as we wouldn't be allowed to
eat with them or watch their practice today.

The fact was, we were persona non grata until competition time tomorrow.

It tugged at my heart to leave Sean behind but if the truth be told, I
think he was so excited and pumped up that he didn't have time to miss me
at all. I was pleased to discover that he wasn't too proud or too "grown
up" to give me a hug and a big kiss before I left. My hand lingered on his
shoulder and I gave it a tight squeeze before walking away with a lump in
my throat.

*****

We five met for dinner at the hotel restaurant which turned out to be much
more than adequate. The food was actually quite good and the conversation
much more than pleasant.

It's funny how people who more or less live together or at the very least
work closely together present different personae in a casual, relaxed
environment.

After the meal, Martha bid us all a good night stating she wanted to read a
bit and get to sleep early.

We guys headed for the bar.

The big screen television was showing a Red Sox/ Oriels game but it was too
early in the season for me to be interested.

Not really having a "dog in the hunt" as they say, I didn't usually get
interested in Major League baseball until well after the All Star Game when
things were beginning to really shape up for the mad dash to the series.

The real entertainment of the evening was provided by Doc and Walter going
toe to toe swapping dirty jokes. John and I laughed until we could hardly
breathe. I tried twice to contribute a joke of my own but I was way out of
my league with those two and so, I was very content to settle back and be
part of the audience.

 About an hour into this however, John spotted two ladies across the lounge
sitting in a booth by themselves. He excused himself and sidled over while
the three of us watched from across the room.

In less than twenty minutes and just one round of drinks, he was headed for
the elevator with a very cute blonde on his arm. As he guided her into the
elevator he turned to us, smiled and flipped us a mock salute just as the
doors slid shut.

"I was young like that once" sighed the Professor.

"Yeah sure. Back when everybody rode horses and the world was still flat"
snorted Walter as he signaled our waitress for another round.

We drank a lot that night but not so much that I was afraid we'd be
impaired in the morning.

Later, I lay alone in my bed thinking about how so much of what was
happening in my life was feeling like a family thing.

 How strange I thought. All these people that I love actually work for me
and yet the reality was they were my friends first and employees a very
distant second.

Except for John they'd been part of the household since I was a kid and
John was the stray that followed me home that my father had let me keep.

...and then there's Sean...my alcohol buzzed brain mused; technically, he works
for me too... So why was I laying here alone feeling like a father who'd just
sent his only son off to boarding school?

I shook my head to clear it. This was all getting confusing.

Smiling I thought that all I knew for certain was that somewhere in this
hotel John was getting laid and I was in a strange bed jerking off...I
laughed hysterically. So much for the perks of being one of the richest men
in the world!

*****

Sean was so excited he couldn't stand still but then, he never could stand
still. Today was just worse.

"Eric, wait'll you see how BIG the pool is! It's gigantic!"

I smiled and hugged him tightly to me as I affectionately rubbed his
shoulders.

"Sean...that pool is no bigger than any other pool you've ever swum in.

 It's EXACTLY the same size as our pool at home; 50 meters long...10 lanes
wide just like ours would be if we divided it into lanes. What's big is the
arena that surrounds it. That's gigantic but Sean, you don't have to race
in the seats...you race in the pool and there's nothing new about that for
you... forget about the size of the stadium just race your races like you
always do."

He nodded his head and smiled a big "Sean smile".

There would be no heats run today. Only qualified contenders were here.
There were ten lanes and only ten contestants in each race. Every time the
horn sounded, it was for the medals...serious stuff.

The events started at 11:30. From 9:30 to 10:00 was time for the Press. All
contestants and coaches were gathered in the pool area for photographs and
interviews.

There was a great deal of interest in our boys because of the unusual
success of the entire team and each of the boys was subject to serious
reporters' attention.

There came a lull in the activity as one by one the ten teams mounted the
big stage for group photos.

I was standing off to the side with Sean when a tall thin man in a brown
sport coat approached with a note pad and pencil in hand.

"This is the famous swimming Sean of the Samurai Club is it?" he asked in a
sniveling high pitched voice.

I disliked him instinctively and thought to myself that he couldn't be much
of a reporter if he didn't even bother to get the nicknames correct.

"Can I help you?" I asked placing myself between him and the boy.

"Ah yes, Dwight Freshette of the Swimmers Monthly. A few questions if I
might?" he waved a laminated card quickly under my nose and it at least
looked like a genuine white, red and green Press pass.

I was a bit angry and I was curt with him which was out of character for me.

"How can we be of assistance Mr. Freshette. We've got our team photo coming
up so this will have to be quick I'm afraid."

He smiled a simpering smile and I noted that his teeth were unpleasantly
yellow.

"Yes, well of course this young man is of particular interest because of
his outstanding personal success thus far and then of course there is the
unsubstantiated rumor that until recently he was in residence at the
Nesswell-Turnbridge Academy for Boys and of course, there have always been
rumors...also unsubstantiated of course regarding THAT establishment and so I
was wondering if "Swimming Sean' could provide any enlightenment in that..."

I interrupted him at once.

"Sean is my legal ward and I am his guardian. He lives and is home schooled
at my residence. You know my name and you know my reputation. You know
where we live though frankly, you would never be allowed near the place.

We have no information to share regarding an Academy or any other
institution.

 If you have questions about his education, I refer you to Doctor David
Swaim who is Sean's private tutor and who I'm most CERTAIN you've heard of.
Now if you'll excuse us Mr....Freshette was it?"

He nodded still smiling his creepy yellow smile and I pulled Sean away from
him.

*****

The first events were the 50 meter events and the first of these was the
breast stroke.

Buddy was on his block in lane 9. We were all sitting at the other side of
the pool so he was across the width from us. He was strong in this event
and we all sat there tensed for the horn. It almost took us by surprise
when it sounded because we hadn't heard the "ready signal.

Buddy broke to the surface and was stroking madly from the very first it
was obvious he was pulling away from the pack. No one ever came near to
challenging him and he pulled strongly up the length of the pool and
touched a full body length ahead of the second place swimmer.

One race, one Gold the Deer Run crowd went wild.

Sean was next with the Crawl. Since this was easily his strongest stroke
and the 50 meter required no turn it was pretty much accepted that he had
no competition in this particular event and the race proved this to be
correct. He touched the wall an almost embarrassing distance from the
number two swimmer.

Two races, two Gold.

Charlie was next with the butterfly. Before his injury he was untouchable
in this race. The big mystery of course was; had is arm healed enough for
him to be back in form?

The horn sounded and they jumped.  Two little heads broke the water
first...noticeably ahead of the pack and were off down the pool neck and
neck.

They were in lanes five and six. I don't know if they were aware of each
other swimming side by side but they certainly performed as if they were.

About 15 meters from the wall Charlie in lane six began to slowly pull
ahead it was agonizing to watch at first...almost imperceptible but it
quickly became evident that he was extending his lead and the boy in lane
five was running out of gas.

Charlie touched the wall almost a full meter ahead.

Three races, three gold.

We just all got nuts for little Charlie we were all so happy for him.

He strutted back along our side of the pool like a little monkey with an
ear to ear grin.

As the afternoon wore on it became another outrageously successful meet for
the boys from Deer Run.

Every boy had won at least two gold and none of them had finished outside
of the medals in any event.

Sean had won gold in all five of his events so far and all that remained
for him was the 400 meter individual medley and then the team relay.

He was sitting next to me on the bench his legs bouncing up and down as he
flexed on the balls of his feet.

"This is so neat Eric! We're doin sooo good!

I'm doin good ain't I? Am I doin good as Kyle did Eric?" he was looking at
me anxiously.

"It's time to put an end to this." I thought and I turned to face him
almost too abruptly.

"Sean" I said looking at him intently. "You've already won as many medals
as Kyle did when he was here at the State and you've still got two events
to go!

Sean, Kyle never did as good as this...you...you're better than Kyle was.

Don't waste any more time thinking about being as good as Kyle...my sweet
little man... just keep being as good as Sean."

He looked at me in a strange half serious half questioning way and I was
troubled a bit by his expression. He was about to say something when the
call came to take the blocks for the 400 meter Medley.

He got up to take his place but after about four steps he turned around and
looked at me again. I couldn't read the expression on his face so I just
smiled at him.

He cocked his head to the side still looking at me in that enigmatic way,
he did the strangest thing; he softly blew me a kiss and gave me a little
wave.

Pulling on his swim cap and goggles he took his place on the block for lane
three.

"At least he's down by our side of the pool" I thought. "Maybe he'll even
be able to hear us cheering."

The 400 meter individual medley is the most demanding events in competitive
swimming.

It consisted of two laps of the pool in each of the major strokes and every
part of the event is controlled including the turns at the wall.

The order of the strokes was; Butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke and a
free-style lap which was almost always the crawl.

I was leaning forward on my seat and I realized that I was wringing my
hands on my lap and biting my lower lip.

Martha leaned over to me and said;

"All this tension! How can that poor little boy stand it?"

I looked at her and without thinking I replied;

"Martha, are you crazy? All he has to do is swim. We're the ones who have
to watch!"

I studied the boys on each of the other nine lanes. By now I had learned
not to try and gauge Sean's chance of success by the size of his opponents.

Sean seemed to have "something" that no other boy he's swum against had.
Still, my heart did a small flutter when I realized that Sean was the third
smallest boy on the line and that the boys in lanes two and ten were
significantly bigger than him.

I heard the "ready "this time and I held my breath as all ten boys dropped
their arms to their sides and hunched over the water. It always amazed me
at this point in a race how professional my little boy looked and acted
just before the horn.

The horn! It sounded and they were off... all ten little bodies hurled into
the water and gliding smoothly below.  For a second or so, everything was
quiet...then they surfaced... twenty little arms flailing in the chest and
shoulder searing torture of the butterfly stroke.

They churned the water around them and from the stands the deafening roars
of encouragement rang through the immense hall.

The line of the swimmers was slightly jagged but really rather even. No
swimmer lagged significantly behind and none had established a large lead
either. They hit the wall marking the completion of the first lap.

After negotiating the turn the boy in lane seven began a furious effort and
quickly opened up a noticeable gap ahead of the other swimmers.

"That's a mistake" I thought to myself "he'll burn himself out; there are
so many laps to go."

At the completion of the "fly", the turn must be executed by touching both
hands to the wall and then rolling onto your back before you can take a
stroke.

The boy in lane seven made the transition to the backstroke perfectly but
it was obvious that he'd wasted a lot of his "stuff" on that final effort
in the butterfly. I assumed that he was hoping to gain some of it back
during the far less exerting back stroke.

Close behind him the other nine boys made perfect turns and were strongly
onto the chase. The backstroke was a strong event for Sean and before he'd
hit the wall on the far side he and the two bigger boys in lanes two and
ten had pulled even with the early leader and after the turn they were all
three pulling away from him. The rest of the pack was not very far behind
however and there was a lot of race left.

As they approached the wall for the end of the backstroke it was still
Sean, and the boys in lanes two and ten.

At the completion of the back stroke, swimmers are required to touch the
wall while on their backs and then roll over onto their breasts before
stroking away.

The three lead boys executed perfect turns and were now engaged in the
breast stroke. Close behind the rest of the pack hit the wall and turned
though now the line was stringing out as weaker swimmers tired and dropped
back. I noticed with no real satisfaction that I had been right and the boy
in lane seven was being swallowed by the pack as less tired swimmers
overtook him.

Sean and the two bigger boys were still virtually even when they hit the
far wall and the rest of the pack was noticeably losing space behind them.
Unless something unexpected happened this would be a three man race.

Although I'd watched dozens of times first with Kyle and now with Sean, it
always astonished me how such little kids could take the punishment and
perform so well in such a grueling event.

There were no tricky rules for the completion of the breast stroke other
than the obvious requirement that the swimmer must be on his breast when he
touches the wall.

At first look, it appeared as though all three boys had touched the wall
almost simultaneously but as they came out of the turn and into the crawl,
it was obvious that lane ten was lagging just slightly behind.

No one in the vast hall had eyes for anything else except for the two lead
swimmers; Sean in lane three and the boy next to him in lane two. They were
matching each other stroke for furious stroke as they hit the far wall and
dived under kicking off in perfect racers turns.

This was it...the final lap and they looked to be perfectly matched. The
bigger boy's longer arms should have provided some advantage but Sean's
fury and tenacity negated any advantage provided by mere size.

About half way down the pool Sean drew upon "something" out from deep
inside himself. His stroke suddenly increased in force and velocity and
slowly, slowly he pulled ahead of the other boy. It seemed impossible that
such a little child could produce such strength and power. He was almost
machine like.

I was on my feet screaming...we all were. About five meters from the wall it
was obvious that Sean couldn't be caught. He touched/finished a half body
length ahead of the boy in the next lane.

The entire Deer Run contingent were wildly hugging and screaming... Dancing
and jumping in wild celebration. It was mayhem in our section of the stands.

Down in the pool, Sean had reached over and was graciously embracing the
boy in lane two in congratulation and consolation. Their arms were wrapped
around each other as they rested their heads upon the other's shoulder and
gasped for breath whispering words of praise to each other for their grand
competition.

I had tears running down my cheeks as I hugged everyone around me. John and
Martha were crying as hard as I was and even Walter's face was flush with
excitement.

I couldn't see Doc Swaim anyplace in the swarming crowd but his booming
voice could be heard distinctly above the cacophony that filled the air and
enveloped me.

The total of six gold medals including this fantastic medley victory
assured that Sean would be awarded the overall championship trophy. I was
so proud and happy for him. My heart felt rich and full.

Down at the pool the coaches were helping Sean out of the water and he was
mobbed by his six friends and teammates. The coaches were quickly ushering
them into the locker room to prepare for the team relay that would be the
grand finale of the Swim Meet though I personally wondered how they
expected anything to top the fantastic race we had just witnessed.

John and I walked back to the refreshment stand and got all of us some
Cokes (sadly for me there was no beer for sale here today). When I got back
in my seat, I leaned over to Walter and mentioned that we needed to find a
good restaurant to host the big victory dinner this evening. He pulled out
his cell phone and told me he'd take care of it.

About fifteen minutes later they were calling for the teams to come out for
the relay. Our boys were in lane two so we would have another great view
from our seats.

 I watched as our guys strutted out from the locker.

Buddy, Matty and Charlie were chatting and joking...punching each other in
the arm and poking each other in the ribs while behind them Rico, Mike and
Bulldog were doing some kind of swaggering little dance that they no doubt
thought to be very cool.

 I didn't see Sean yet.

I took a big swig of my soda and turned to John and Martha pointing out the
three dancing little roosters down on the deck. John made some funny remark
and Martha just exclaimed that they were very cute.

"Hmnnn. Still no Sean." I mused. "I wonder what's keeping him."

After a few minutes it became obvious that all the other teams were in
place but Sean had still not come out. I watched as Coach Riorden walked
across the deck and into the locker room, A few minutes later he came out
and approached one of the Meet Officials talking excitedly with hands
waving.

"Something's wrong" I said to John and Walter and I got up and hurried down
towards the pool area. John and Walter were right behind me as one of the
Officials tried to stop us.

"I'm sorry sir. No unauthorized persons are allowed at pool side...that's
regulations." One of John's big arms pushed him aside as we muscled past
him.

"Stick your regulations up your ass!" John snarled.

I walked up to Clay who looked at me confused...almost stupefied.

"Sean's not in the locker room." He said as if in a daze.

"What do you mean he's not in the locker room? I saw him go in and he sure
as hell didn't come out yet!"

"H-He's not in there Eric. I just looked."

I turned to the six boys who were now crowded around us sensing that
something wasn't right.

"Guys, do you know where Sean is?"

"Yeah Mr. T" said Buddy. "He's with that magazine guy doin a interview."

"That's impossible son." The Official standing with us said. "No Press
people are allowed in the locker room while the meet is still going on."

I felt a chill run down my spine. Before I could move Walter had already
turned on his heels and was racing to the locker room door with John close
behind him.

I followed and we burst into the room.

It was empty.

We checked the toilets and the showers, the supply closet even the utility
cubby.

 Frantically I scanned the room and saw Walter standing near the back wall.
On the floor was Sean's team bag all his clothes and gear were strewn out
across the grey tiles.

Walter had something in his hand and he held it out to me. It was a
laminated white, red and green Press Pass and it was in the name of "Dwight
Freshette".

"It's phony as hell." Walter said as he strode to the emergency exit door
at the back of the room.

 He just lightly touched it and it swung open freely. Upon examination it
was obvious that the latch and lock had been skillfully tampered with from
the outside.

The cold hand of terror closed around my heart and squeezed tightly as if
to crush it.

Sean was gone.

My precious little boy was gone.

(to be continued)

Thanks to all of you for your emails and comments. To a first time writer
you have no idea how much I treasure them I read them all and try to reply
in kind.

Next It's Cops, FBI and we'll find out some things about Walter that even
Eric didn't know.