Date: Sat, 3 Dec 2011 20:14:01 -0800 (PST)
From: John Gerald <connectwriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Peter's Story 14

Hi All! Hope you enjoy the continuation of the story.  I'll be keeping to a
once-a month schedule, so you can check up about this time each month.
Also, I've gone back and tried to correct some items in earlier chapters so
the story is a bit more consistent.  Your comments and emails are always
welcome!  J

						***

"Hey!  How ya doin' guys?!" Peter cried out as the dogs barked and jumped
and generally went crazy as he pushed open the heavy, fortress-like front
door.

"Whoa! take `em outside, Peter! They're going to start peeing all over the
place again!" his Dad called out as he ran down the stairs and into the
foyer.

"OK, OK," he replied as he backed-up onto the tile covered outside porch, a
mischievous smile appearing on his face as the dogs followed him out and
continued to climb all over him. "You wouldn't do that, guys, would ya? !"
he teased before putting down the luggage he was carrying and getting down
on his knees to great them.

While the canines continued their enthusiastic assault on Peter, Marty
stepped by the raucous crowd and caught the closing door with his shoulder
as he dragged a towering trio of battered cardboard boxes over the
threshold. "Here's the first delivery," he called as his right foot
flattened the rug that had been scrunched up by the dogs.

"Let me give you a hand," Brad said as he pulled the topmost one from the
stack. "I think you guys are going to be in the apartment, so we should
take all these upstairs.  Marty, is that going to be OK with you, to be
upstairs?"

"Oh yeah, that's great! I think that Pete told me about that already," he
replied, "I really appreciate it, but I think anywhere is fine. Just thanks
for letting me stay for the summer. And Angie, too."

"We're really glad to have all of you, I'm sure you know that. But's let's
get all the stuff unloaded first, especially the fish, before we start
celebrating.  Peter wanted us to prepare the aquarium so we got it all
ready."

"Yea, we should get those critters in as soon as we can, they aren't the
best travelers," Marty said. "We hardly stopped all the way here because
Pete was worried about them.

"By the way, will Angie be here next week?"  Brad said as the led the way
through the house.

"Yeah, her semester is about a week longer than ours, so she's coming solo
on a cheap flight from Boston."

"And she probably has a ride from the airport, correct

?" Brad said, turning his head back to smile at Marty.

"Yes, I think that Todd has volunteered for that," he replied as he
followed the voice and head of Peter's Dad, his view partially blocked by
the two boxes he was still carrying.

Marty had only seen the inside of the apartment a few times this past
winter while Bik and Laura were staying there.  He didn't recall the layout
perfectly, but nonetheless remembered it as being kind of cozy, reached
from an almost hidden stairway tucked away at the back of the kitchen

Since it was originally a maid's apartment of the type common in large
homes built before the depression, it had its own bathroom and even a
surprising large sitting area off the bedroom with a view of the back yard
from a tall bay window.  Mike had completely renovated it himself before
his parents moved in over 25 years earlier, so it had a clean, modern
appearance with recessed lights, blond wood floors and built-in drawers
that still looked fresh.

But he felt that the need to make a few changes to accommodate the guys.
One was to install some additional built-in cabinetry in the sitting area
to accommodate their computers and create work areas for the two of them,
which he did in the same modern style of his earlier renovations.  It was a
snug fit for two, but the bay window turned out to have just enough space,
with the added bonus of the nice view.

The other major change was less utilitarian and more dramatic.  Mounting
Peter's aquarium directly onto the wall at the top of the stairs, where it
was centrally located between the bathroom and the bedroom, it became the
visual focus of the entire apartment.  Mike had to take the entire wall
apart in order to install all the extra supports that the heavy aquarium
would need, stuff that no one would ever see, but he know how much the fish
meant to his son and wanted both of the guys to have something special.

					***

After Peter got the dogs calmed down and herded back into the house, he
rushed back to the car to rescue his fish.  He hoped that they were all
still alive, but knew that this kind of transfer was very stressfull so
quickly brought the padded box into the house.

"You won't have to look for their home," his Dad said as Peter practically
ran past him on his way through the kitchen to the apartment stairs.

He knew that his Pop had moved the aquarium from his old room, but was so
focused on the fish that he didn't even notice it until he got to the top
of the stairs and almost crashed into the metal frame.

`This is great! wow!'  he said to himself as he finally looked up, his nose
almost touching the glass as he recovered his balance.  But he could pause
only briefly to appreciate the new installation before he carefully began
the process of liberating the fish from their solitary confinement in the
bags.

Under his breath, he addressed each swimmer individually as he moved them
over, "Easy does it Sammy...Welcome home, Rainbow...you'll be OK, Sparky."
It was a delicate task, best done in the dark, and very traumatic for the
fish. And it was one that he decided he wouldn't do again (after
negotiating a commitment from his Dads to take care of them during the next
two academic years.)

He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally transferred the last one over,
a blue and yellow Angelfish which was a special favorite.  Stroking the top
of the tank with this hand, almost like he would stroke his dogs, he
carefully replaced the cover then put a blackout cloth over the tank before
finally taking a few moments to look over the installation.

He couldn't understand how his Pop had gotten the heavy tank to hang right
off of the wall, where it almost seemed to float without any supports
directly underneath it.  During his grandparent's time there was a small
Bauhaus-style table with a lamp, vase and a family picture on the wall
above, and that tableau had remained the same for years, even when Bik and
Laura occupied the apartment last Christmas.  Now, he could hardly believe
the transformation.

As he looked around further he saw that same picture, which was a Christmas
shot of all the families, mounted to one side of the aquarium. On the other
side, to complete the symmetry, was the picture of Marty and Peter and the
dogs that had been taken the previous Christmas. Even though the picture
was actually hanging correctly on the wall, Peter instinctively reached
over and gave it a light touch, just to make sure that it was hanging
perfectly straight.

`Just right,' he said to himself before dimming the lights and stepping
back down the stairs.

						***

He went back outside to see what was left to be handled, but Marty and his
Dads had already carted out all of the boxes, duffel bags, crates and other
assorted containers that filled every corner of the interior and trunk of
the car. So Peter just made a quick clean-up of the sandwich bags, soda pop
cans, toll receipts and other road trip detritus and locked it up for the
night.

When he got back upstairs he found Marty just starting to empty the first
box, putting their t-shirts and socks into the top row of dresser drawers
built into two sides of the now somewhat darkened room.

"Can you see OK in here?" Peter asked.

"It's a little dark for moving stuff around.  But I assumed you turned the
lights down for the fish, so I can make it work."

The light reduction had definitely made the room a bit dim for trying to
sort clothes, but what it lost in practicality was made up for in the sort
of romantic character it now had, like the back room at an intimate Italian
restaurant.  Peter seemed to pick up the passionate side of it and not the
practical one as he slipped behind Marty and wrapped his hands around his
slim waist.

"You ready for some dinner? I think my Dad's got some good stuff for us.
I'm pretty sure I smelled meat and carbs when I went through the kitchen,"
he said as he rested his chin on the solid shoulder."

Marty stood silent for a moment as he began to stroke the hands that
embraced him.  His dark-colored sweater almost turned black in the low
light, which accentuated the outline of Peter's fingers as he started to
massage them, pulling on each digit individually as he rolled and twisted
them.

"Yeah, I smelled it, too. Gosh, anything sounds good right now, but do you
think we should finish unpacking first?" he replied, turning his head to
make sure that Peter heard him.

"We can do that later, even tomorrow morning, I think. We kind of rushed
the drive here this time, so you must be pretty tired from being behind the
wheel so much," he said, almost getting hard from the gentle manipulation
of his fingers not to mention just the close smell and scent of Marty's
body.  "By the way, thanks again for driving so fast. I don't like to keep
the fish in bags for very long, so I appreciate it."

Marty turned around to face him. "No worries. I wouldn't want to be in a
plastic bag for the drive from Massachusetts to Ohio either. And they still
seemed to be moving around in there so it looks like they all made it safe
and sound."

"I hope so. We won't know for sure for a couple days.  But they were all
alive when I put them in, though they were pretty sluggish.  I hope that
they take this this bigger aquarium as some kind of reward, "he said with a
slight grin as he pulled both of their bodies in the direction of the
stairs.

 "Let's not keep my Dads or your stomach waiting any more. Time to eat!"

						***

"Marty, do you have any firm plans for a job this summer?" Mike asked as
Brad collected the salad plates before moving on to the main course of
steak and potatoes.  In deference to Peter, they decided on eating at the
kitchen countertop rather than at the formal dining room table.  Besides
preferring the informality, it was also an arrangement, with everyone
closer together, that allowed Peter to catch more clearly what everyone was
saying.

"Well, I've got a couple leads from the internet, and a pal at school who
knows some people here, so I've sent out some letters already. But
basically I've just got to really hit the pavement and start looking as
soon as I can," he replied.  He tried to keep his voice as calm and steady
as possible, not wanting to intimate how much he really did need a job and
at the same time not wanting to make them feel responsible for him or worry
them at all.

"I have one thought, if you'd want to consider it, but I don't want to
intrude if you've got a plan," Mike continued as he acknowledged Brad's
placing a ribeye on his plate with a silent nod.

 "Well, I've only got the couple of leads I just mentioned, so I'm wide
open right now," he replied with a clearly nervous laugh, his carefully
constructed façade suddenly failing him.  "It would be great to hear about
anything."

"He almost got a big scholarship! They told him he was the runner-up for
one of the departmental awards," Peter said as he put his arm on Marty's
shoulder and shook him.  "The winners were all juniors; he was the highest
sophomore, so next year might be better."

"I gave it a shot and got close. I hope I can hit it next round.  But
that's a long way off, and I guess I've got to deal with the near term
things right now."

"Well, you might consider this one a longshot, but I think it might work,"
Mike said, trying to figure out the best way to introduce his plan.  "And
it kind of has to do with last winter. You know, you did a great job in the
wood shop, I think you're a real natural at it, Marty."

"I'm not sure I'd say that, I mean I think I did OK, but I wasted a lot of
good wood, and..." he began to protest until Peter interrupted.

"I use that chair you made for me all the time, it's really great. I know I
myself don't have an aptitude for carpentry, as my Pop will attest," Peter
claimed, to a smile from his Dad, "But you really did a great job,
especially for your first time in the shop."

"You're better than you think you are, Peter, but no, you won't be making a
living at it," his Pop said to him, before turning back to Marty.

"But I think that you're a real natural and can maybe make some money at
it, as least as a summer project."

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, flattered, but at the same time not
at all sure that he had any of special woodworking skills that someone
would actually pay money for.

"Well, we have a client who needs a scale model of a small town
neighborhood done for a master planning study.  It's really just like the
little models of villages that you make out of Lego blocks, just more
detailed and realistic.  We normally have professional model builders do
this, or even people in our office for relatively simple models like this,
but everyone is too busy or on vacation right now so there's a big hole
here."

"How would I know what to do? I mean, I'm not an architect like you or
anything like that." Marty replied.  "I don't even know where I would even
begin"

"Most of the people who do these things aren't architects either. They're
just model builders, no different from people who build model cars or
planes or boats. In fact, I doubt that any that I've dealt with have had
any special academic training in it; they just were just taught it by
someone or picked it up themselves. It just takes an ability to build
things and to be accurate and careful. And I know you can do that - I've
seen it."

"Besides," Mike continued, "it's mostly just simple little wooden boxes
meant to represent existing buildings like houses and stores, but lots and
lots of them, plus streets and trees and neighborhood stuff like that. And
the site is pretty flat too, so no hills to make it complicated."

As they talked further about the project Mike went to the office that he
and Brad shared and brought out a picture of the kind of final product that
he was proposing.  Marty took the picture and studied it, Peter peering
closely over his shoulder, as he asked Mike question after question about
the model and how it was built.

After a few minutes of their back-and-forth Marty sat back in his chair,
his eyes seeming to stare at the space in the kitchen beyond.  Peter
studied him closely, but couldn't exactly tell what he thought of all this.
All he could do was reach under the countertop and stroke Marty's leg until
he finally came out of his trance.

 "You know, I actually think that I might be able to do this, though those
could be famous last words," he declared, his hesitation and apprehension
unmistakable. "But even if I can do it, then the question becomes, how much
could I charge for it?  It would probably take me weeks to finish this
thing, and by then it would be too late to get a real job."

Mike laughed at the reference to `real job,' knowing that lots of people
actually make a living at this, then explained to him how he could
potentially make in 6 weeks what a lot of other students could make in an
entire summer. "There might be some late nights toward the deadline time,
there always are.  But you could do really well financially, believe it or
not."

"Yeah, really, babe, it almost sounds like a modeling gig," Peter added,
"You work like crazy for a while, sometimes a couple of 12 of 14 hour days
but then you're paid pretty decent for that short burst of work. Not a
predictable 9-5 job of course, but you really could make in a few weeks
what some people make in a few months."

"It's the price of some risk," Brad said, his lawyer, analytic side coming
out as he had both elbows on the shiny stone surface and his hand folded in
front of himself. "But from what Mike says and from what I know about you,
it's a risk worth taking.  I know you could do it."

"Hmmm..." Marty was stroking his chin as he gazed beyond into the kitchen
again.

"Speaking of modeling," Peter said, after some hesitation, "um...I've
talked this over with Marty, and I think that I'm going to maybe do some
more modeling work this summer.  You know..."

"What!" he heard immediately as a chorus from both his Dads.  It was almost
exactly the reaction that he had correctly predicted to Marty on their way
home.

"I know what you're thinking, I know!" Peter responded as he raised his
arms in the air, motioning at them both to calm down, and at least to just
hear him out.  "I know that you both don't like it, but, well, it's really
tough out there and we need to make some money this summer. I'll do it on
my terms, of course.  I'm not going to roll over for them on this hearing
aid thing. But modeling is the only trade that I have any `talent' for at
this point in my life" he said, raising his fingers parenthetically at the
word, "so I've got to cash in while I can."

His Dads looked at each other, clearly perplexed.  His Pop rubbed his
forehead, trying to massage away the sudden surprise.  "I thought that you
might lifeguard or work in some office like last summer or something like
that. I know you can do more, but I never thought you'd go back to
that...but you're an adult, Peter, and you can do whatever you want, and
you know... we'll support you.  I just don't, well, like some of the stuff
that happens in that industry. You know all the reasons. "

"I know Pop. Like I said, I'll do it on my terms. But that one agent who
wasn't so bad, that Dave guy, he still sends me stuff about once a year. I
didn't reply to anything until this past spring, and he seemed to still
have some real interest. He does mostly advertising and stuff like that.
Maybe some travelling to New York because he works out of there now, but
that's about it. Kind of predictable shoots and hopefully some quick cash."

He continued.  "I sent him some pics that Marty took. Nothing fancy. I
wanted to see what he thought, just in case my so called `masculine but
boyish' looks have faded."

"And...?"  his Pop replied.

"He emailed a contract right away!"  Marty blurted out, before Peter could
even open his mouth.

"Huh?!' his Dad responded.  Like his partner, he was confused and
skeptical.  But, like Mike, equally resigned to their son's decision.
"Well, like your Pop said, it's up to you. Just...um, you know...be careful
with those sharks."

						***

"Your Pop and I will clean up down here.  You guys can go and unpack or do
whatever. You're probably exhausted," Brad said as he and Mike started to
clear the counter.  But just as he was about to return for another load of
plates, he changed his mind and wiped his hands on the washcloth he had
just put out for the dishes and approached Marty.

"By the way, we were all so rushed before, we didn't have a chance to give
you guys a proper welcome," Brad said as he wrapped his arms around him,
giving Marty another one of the bearhugs that he got back at Christmas.  If
anything, it was an even warmer embrace than he had received the first
time.  "We're so glad to have you guys here. We've both missed you a lot!"
he whispered in his ear as he stroked Marty's back.

As Brad finally pulled away it looked to Marty like his eyes were
reddening, and the scene was similar with Mike, who almost could let go of
him or Peter when they hugged.  The seriousness was only broken when Marty
almost tripped on the dogs, who had been hovering around him ever since he
and Peter had gotten up from the table.

"We've missed you, too, and I'll put Radar and Tony in that boat also,"
Marty with a laugh.  Any slight doubts that he had had about a whole summer
as a guest had quickly evaporated, as he tried to stifle his own strong
emotions from the overwhelming welcome.

 "Oh, I wanted to mention, too. The apartment really looks great.  You did
a lot of work in there for us, the aquarium and those new desks. You didn't
need to do all that...but thanks. "

"Glad you like it; I hope it all works out.  I thought that you all could
use some desk space up there. In fact, it was kind of Bik's idea. He
thought the place would be perfect for you guys, but that it would help to
put some shelves in or something like that so you had a place to work,
"Mike responded.

"Only Pop can't put in `just shelves.'  It's got to be more than that for
him," Peter said smiling.

"We'll maybe I did get carried away a bit," he responded, "but I think it
will work out really well for you guys. The desks even have a nice view."

"I know it will, Pop. Thanks." Peter said as he put his hand on his Pop's
shoulder. "I can't wait to test drive them. We'll hook up our computers
tomorrow."

						***

Marty went upstairs to continue the unpacking and Peter, who had gotten
delayed once again by the dogs, was about to follow him when he heard, or
rather sensed, the footsteps of his Dad as he approached him from behind.

"Peter, you know we will cover you guys for whatever you need, so I hope
that you all don't feel too much pressure to make a lot of money this
summer.  Your Pop and I can handle whatever we need to do.

Peter reached up and adjusted his hearing aid, wanting to make sure that he
was getting this all correctly. "I know Pop, and we appreciate it. But
Marty really wants to carry his own weight and doesn't want to take out a
lot of loans. He'll accept help if he absolutely needs it, but he really
doesn't want to seem like a burden. Plus, he's trying to help Angie as much
as he can, though she's probably in better shape that he his."

"I've told him before that he shouldn't worry, we're in this together," he
continued, "but I think that it's just in his nature. He's a guy that gives
help, not the other way around."

"We'll take your word for it, son, but we're here if you all need us.
There's no reason to stretch yourselves too far."

"OK, Dad, thanks.  I'll holler if we need help," he said as he shooed the
dogs upstairs.

"Good enough. G'night, Peter. We'll see you guys in the morning," he said
before pausing.

Peter turned around and was about to wish his Dad a good night when his Dad
approached him again and put his arms around him in the same welcoming
embrace as only a few moments before.  He kissed him on the forehead and
then spoke directly into Peter's good ear, "I'm sorry, but we've just
missed you so much, son!...so much!"

"Me too, Dad!" Peter said, "me too."