Date: Mon, 23 Aug 1999 17:02:22 -0700 (PDT) From: "Robert J. Cutter" <rjcutter57@yahoo.com> Subject: "A VICTORIAN ROMANCE - Chapter 1" (Man/Man) Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. All of the characters are fictitious, as are the locales. If any aspect of male/male relationships offends you or if you are averse to anything gay, please leave now. Please e-mail any comments you may have to my new address: rjcutter57@yahoo.com A VICTORIAN ROMANCE ----------------------------------- Copyright 1999 by Robert J. Cutter - All Rights Reserved The author retains all rights to this story. It is not permissible to distribute it to any newsgroups and/or other web sites without the express written consent and permission of the author. Chapter 1 - That First Weekend It was late June and it was moving day - a day I had waited years to arrive. I was finally moving into my new summer home in upstate New York. I was swelling with pride and nervous with anticipation as I drove up the New York State Thruway to the town of Shadow Springs, located west of Albany just off of US Route 20. Shadow Springs was in an economically depressed region. It was, at one time, one of the great resort towns of the state. There were (actually there still are) hot mineral springs in the area and people from New York City would travel up to Shadow Springs by railroad to take the waters. The Vanderbilts and the Roosevelts traveled here before they decided to build their palatial homes in Saratoga Springs and their "cottages" in Newport. It then became a gathering place for the working class immigrants from central Europe - people quite used to going to spas for their health. After World War II, when people began the half century move out of the cities to the suburbs, the summer resort areas of upstate New York declined, and towns like Shadow Springs were particularly hard hit. When I decided to build a summer home I picked this area because it was very convenient to areas of New York and New England that had wonderful summer cultural events - Glimmerglass Opera, Tanglewood and other Berkshire festivals, and the Saratoga Festival. The house I bought was in quite dilapidated condition - an enormous old Victorian style structure that had been expanded over years and used until fifteen years ago as a hotel. It was last occupied about ten years previous to my purchase and used as a youth hostel. I hired an excellent New York City architectural firm and had very, very extensive modifications made to the building. Changes to the interior included all new plumbing, electric, heating, air conditioning, intercom, telephone system, central vacuum, sprinklers, smoke alarms and cable systems. Changes to the exterior brought a new swimming pool, porches and landscaping, including new terraces and decks, and a new five car garage at the very back of the property; the garage had a three bedroom apartment above. The internal structure of the building was reinforced and sagging areas were built up with a new foundation. We kept as much of the old decorative designs as possible, on both the interior and the exterior. A more recent wing, added in the late 1940's, was demolished; it detracted from the beauty of the house. As I drove up that first day I noticed a large group of kids standing out on the sidewalk watching the moving people carrying the household items from the large vans into the house. I pulled into the driveway and parked under the wonderful new porte-cochere. The kids stood in a cluster on the sidewalk and stared at me. I walked over to them. They were a particularly motley looking crew of about eleven or twelve kids. Each looked scrawny and was incredibly unanimated. For young children they were unusually quiet. I greeted them in a very friendly manner. An older boy, possibly the leader, spoke up first. "Hi, mister. You the owner of this here house?" "I am!" "Are you gonna live in it?" "Yes, I most certainly am!" "All year?" "No, I expect to live here about six or seven months of the year. In the winter I'll go where it is warmer. It's better for an old man like me." The kids laughed at my little joke. But not for too long. "Are you married, mister?" "Not any more, my friend, not any more." "You got any kids?" "Yes, I have four children, but they're all grown up. In fact I have a few grandchildren that are about the age of some of you guys. I expect some of my family may visit me sometimes during the summer. I hope they do." One thing that struck me almost immediately about these kids was that they seemed very dour - not one smile on one face. Strange for children - usually they are so open and animated but not this group. They were like zombies. Maybe they were frightened of me or in awe or whatever. The group seemed to be evenly divided between boys and girls. They were all thin and looked to me to be somewhat undernourished. They were also very poorly clothed - the outfits they wore was not the latest kid styles and they seemed quite threadbare, like they had been handed down for a good long time. Maybe it was just my city attitudes taking charge of my views. "So you guys enjoying watching the moving in?" "Yeah, we are mister, `cause we been watchin' for a coupla years that they been buildin' this here ole place. It really looks great!" "Thanks. Thanks a lot. By the way kids my name is Wayne Franklin and I would like it if you'd all call me Wayne. Okay?" They nodded. I asked them to call out their names and hopefully I would eventually get to learn them all. I found out that except for one boy all the kids in the group were siblings of at least one other kid in the group. I asked them if they would like something to eat. Before setting out from the city I had stopped by a deli to pick up an array of sandwiches and countless other items to feed the moving personnel. I over bought (as is my usual habit) and had plenty. They each smiled and were quite enthusiastic at the invitation. We entered the house through the side entrance - from the porte-cochere. Some of the kids helped me carry the food trays in from the car. They were in absolute awe of the place and stopped in their tracks when they saw the spectacular design of the interior; I too had to admit that it was very impressive. I set up the kitchen table, put out drinks and glasses invited them to help themselves. And they certainly did! They went through that first platter of sandwiches like locusts through a field of grain. "I guess you guys're rather hungry. That's great because I've plenty more." I brought out the second and third platters (the moving people had joined us by then) and while they did not disappear as rapidly as the first one, they did disappear completely. I was glad I had overbought. "Would you all like some dessert?" There was a chorus of "yes" and "thanks" and I opened a big box of Italian cookies and set it out. They munched on the cookies and continued to drink their juices. "What time is it, mister...uh...Wayne?" one of the small girls asked. "We gotta be home by two o'clock." "Yes, well it's almost that time. Maybe you kids should get going." They thanked me again and went out the kitchen door into the back yard. They all suddenly stopped short when they saw the enormous new swimming pool behind the gardens. They all stood completely still and looked at it - silently. "Nice, isn't it?" I asked. "Yeah, it's fantastic, Wayne. Just fantastic," they all seemed to mutter. "Well, if you guys would like, you can use this pool for the next month or so, but I have to be here for you to use it." They cheered and seemed happier than I had seen them all day. "But remember, you all must ask my permission every time you want to use the pool. Is that okay with you?" They all nodded, thanked me again for the food and scampered out. I went outside and slowly walked around the enormous and beautiful backyard. I marveled at the thorough and top-flight job done by the landscape contractor. I turned and looked up at the house; it was magnificent - stately, rich, inviting - my decades long dreams come to reality. I went back into the kitchen and was surprised to see one of the kids still sitting at the table. He was particularly miserable looking, staring down at the floor, with his hands folded in his lap. "Hi, Fred," I said. "What are you still doing here?" "I'm Chris, sir. I got nothin' t'do - and I ain't goin' wit' `em." "Sorry, Chris it is. Aren't you doing what the other kids are doing?" He shook his head. "I'm not part of tha' family." "They're all members of one family?" I said incredulously. "Yeah, they are - sortta. They cousin and such. They all goin' to camp on Monday and they goin' t'get some clothes and stuff at Wal-Mart t'day." "You're not going to this camp with them?" "Can't. We on welfare...and...and somethin' else so I can't leave my mom...and gran'ma yet...I think." "You live with your mom and grandmother?" He nodded. "Yeah, but my mom take off ever coupla days so it hard for us - gran'ma and me." I looked closely at Chris. This was not an attractive kid. First of all he was thin, thin, thin. I mean that's what you'd say the second you saw him, "This kid is so incredibly thin!" Then it would be his long, blonde straggly and stringy hair. Did this kid ever shower? His face was very delicate though; he had extremely large blue eyes, blonde eyebrows, long blonde lashes, the requisite freckles and a very cute upturned nose. He also had a prominent chin, large hands, very large feet and was rather tall. Tall and thin - that was Chris. I figured him to be about twelve years old and not yet into puberty judging but his lack of body hair, particularly on his thin legs. He was wearing a white tee shirt (with the name of some air conditioning contractor on the back), rather ragged white shorts and beat-up white sneakers. All of his clothes were in shabby but clean condition, although they looked too large for his thin frame. "So, Chris," I said in an upbeat tone of voice, "Whatcha gonna do for the rest of the day." He shrugged his shoulders and looked right at me. "I don't know. Whatcha gonna do?" "Well I'm going to unpack my stuff so that I can begin living here for real." "Can I help ya?" he asked in a plaintive tone. "Certainly! If you want to spend the rest of the day helping an old man unpack his belongings I have no objection at all. I'd be very happy for the company." He smiled at me. It was the first time I saw him smile and it was a lovely, soft, gentle smile. "You ain't old," he said softly. I put out my hand and he stood up and took it. We walked upstairs to unpack my stuff in the master bedroom suite. ---------------------------------- The place was looking great. I loved it; I loved everything about it. After the renovations the second floor had eight beautiful large bedrooms each with a private bath (unpainted and not yet furnished) and the remarkable master bedroom suite. The suite consisted of my very large bedroom, a large sitting room (with hidden deck), a large alcove and two luxurious bathrooms. The third floor had ten more bedrooms (again, all with private baths) and a large suite of offices, for my private use. The offices were linked to the master bedroom suite by a spiral staircase. From the office suite there was a staircase up to the great octagonal Victorian turret crowning the front of the building. Chris and I walked through the whole house and I showed him everything including the elevator that I had installed in case I got too old to walk the stairs and/or for the possible use of the building for other purposes. A friend of mine had proposed operating a bed and breakfast here; I told him I would think about it and decide after moving in and living in it for a while. Additionally, there were four bedrooms behind and over the kitchen; this was for possible use by staff, if and when a staff was required. These rooms too were left unfurnished and unfinished. On the first floor, the main floor, there were many additional rooms including a grand salon, a living room (separate from the grand salon), library, dining room, television room, sitting room, conservatory, winter garden, den, and of course the professional kitchen with its greenhouse type breakfast/eating area. Most of the rooms on the main floor were also empty. Some, like the television room and the den, were furnished with items from my previous house and apartment. It was a truly grand house and I loved every square inch of it "Well, what do you think of it Chris?" I asked after we completed the extensive tour. "It's `credible, Wayne. I ain't never seen nothin' so wunnerful. It's like a real dream house. It sure would be fun livin' in a place like this." I gave him a wink and he smiled back at me. At dinnertime we returned to the kitchen and scrounged up something to eat. It was a good, filling meal and Chris again ate very heartily. During our table conversation I found out that Chris was eleven (he would be twelve on Christmas Day), he had no siblings, that his father had abandoned them when he was very young and that he had absolutely no recollection of the man. His grandmother was quite sickly and needed help around the house but his mother was almost never there. After dinner and a couple of hours of watching television (Chris told me that he did not have a television in his house), I drove him home. He didn't live very far away - in fact nothing in this town is very far away. One could walk from one end to the other in about fifteen minutes. As I drove up to the squalid house, I was surprised how small it was. How could three people live in something that was little more than a shack? "Okay, Wayne" I told myself, "it's not your place to judge others." Chris got out of the car, thanked me for everything, and ran into the house. I drove back, secured everything for the evening, set the alarms and went upstairs to bed. It was wonderful going to sleep in my new home for the first time. It was also a little scary - all those rooms - all empty and large and forbidding. Before I bought the property I was told (secretly, of course) that the ghost of the first owner haunted the place and walked the property at night seeking a long lost love and his buried fortune. As I was getting out the bed linens and making up the bed, I wondered what I would do with such a large place now that it was finally completed and I was living in it. Maybe I will let Craig run that b & b he wants. Or maybe I'd run it myself. It could be fun - and a hell of a lot of work, of course. What other use is there for eighteen plus bedrooms? I opened the windows (it was a cool night); I crawled under the blankets; I was immediately asleep. During the night something awoke me; it sounded like squeaking coming from the gate leading to the garden. I figured it was just the wind and went back to sleep, trying not to think of ghosts. The next morning, after breakfast, I puttered around in the kitchen and checked out the basement. I had no idea what I could possibly use this basement for - it was so huge. But it was dry and usable. I figured that maybe a darkroom would be in order; photography was one of my hobbies. An exercise room would also be nice. And maybe I could setup my collection of electric trains here; I knew the grandkids would surely love that. Or maybe build a big playroom for the grandkids when they'd come to visit. More things to ponder. I walked out onto the small covered deck outside the kitchen door to sit and have my third cup of coffee. I looked over the backyard; it was so beautiful with the sunlight hitting the early morning dew. I walked down the steps and into the garden. It was so restful. The landscape architects had done a really masterful job. I wandered around for a few minutes and turned back towards the house. I was immediately stopped in my tracks. Was that someone sleeping on one of the garden benches? Who was that all wrapped up in a ratty looking blanket? I walked closer and was astonished to see that it was Chris! What had happened after I left him last night? And it was the squeak of the gate I had heard late last night; Chris must have let himself into the garden. I walked up to the bench and gently shook him while speaking his name softly. He woke up slowly, rolled onto his back and sat up when he recognized me. "Good morning, Christopher. Did you have a good night sleep?" "Uh? Hi Wayne." He rubbed his eyes and stretched and yawned. "Nah, not so good. This bench is hard." "And you don't have much padding on you, do you my boy?" "Huh? Oh, yeah." "Wanna come in for some breakfast? I've made fresh blueberry pancakes if you want." "Sound's great, Wayne." As we walked to the house he explained that when he had opened the door to his house (shack according to me) he noticed that most of their belongings were gone, including the furniture. He knew that he could not spend the night there alone and said that he felt safe at my place; so he just walked back and went to sleep in the garden. "Do you know what happened Chris?" I asked in a very calm tone of voice, trying not to get him too upset. "Not really. My gran'ma's been actin' real strange and my mom's.well, my mom's gone again. I ain't seen her in more'n two week. One kid said they's gonna take my gran'ma away and put her in a loony bin and lock her up and throw away the key." I looked at this bedraggled waif and my heart went out to him. I knew I had to help him and to make him feel at least somewhat wanted and needed. "Well, if you'd like, you can stay here until things get straightened out. But that's only if you want to." Chris began jumping up and down. "Oh, God! Wayne! Could I? Could I? That'd be jus' great!" I looked at him and gave him my warmest smile. He returned it; it made me feel good to see his big, wonderful smile. Then it suddenly disappeared and his face turned sullen again. "That's if you really want me t'be here wit' you. I'm not the bes' company t'have around." "Nonsense. I think you're great company, Chris!" I put my arm around his shoulder and we went inside. -------------------------------------- I spent the rest of the morning doing more things around the place - setting up and moving furniture, unloading groceries, hanging pictures and just generally cleaning up and making the place livable. Chris was an enormous help; he was very handy and extremely helpful. He worked with me so instinctually that I barely had to instruct him what to do - he just did things that needed to be done and knew how to do it. We had lunch together; Chris was certainly a big eater. I wondered when was the last time that he had eaten regularly. I decided I had to ask him about his family and his home life. He became very quiet and brooding. "I know you're having problems Chris, but please talk to me. Maybe I can be of some help if you tell me what's bothering you. Who knows?" He continued to stare at me and then slowly nodded his head. But he didn't say anything. I gave him a sort of pleading look and he nodded again. "I'm all alone, Wayne!" he suddenly blurted out and began to cry. "Nobody want me! Nobody need me! My momma don't love me, my gran'ma's crazy and I...and I..." I opened my arms to him and he ran over to me and crawled into my lap; he threw his thin arms around my neck and began crying quite hard. I hadn't had a crying child crawl into my lap since my own children were very young, and that was quite a while ago. I was at a loss what to do. I put my arms slowly around Chris and began to rub his back. What struck me immediately was how incredibly bony he was. Instead of rubbing my hand over a smooth or muscular back, I found my hand moving over this bumpy frame; I could feel Chris' spine and rib cage and everything else. I tried to soothe him but the crying just continued. I slowly rocked him back and forth saying calming words into his ear. "I understand, Chris. I know you're feeling really terrible, but please tell me what happened and what's going on with you and your family." He sat back and looked at me with his eyes still streaming. He had difficulty speaking but gradually brought himself under control. "I think they took my gran'ma to the state hospital." "Why do you think that?" "'Cause they been threatenin' for months. "I see." "My momma ain't never home and I know they's gonna come f'me soon and take me `way and put me in some kinda state home or fost'home. And I don't wan' that! I don't know what t'do, Wayne!" He buried his face into my neck and began to sob heavily again. I slowly rocked him again, all the while thinking over the situation. He seemed to be asking me for help - basically, to take him in. Could I possibly do this? Would I do this? Would I be permitted to do this? I would be dealing with state authorities, social workers, judges, lawyers and the like. That wasn't too pleasant a prospect! On the other hand, Chris seemed like such a good kid - too good a kid to become a pawn in the bureaucratic hodge-podge that is the state child welfare system. He had been dealt a really shitty hand for his short life. He needed help and he needed it immediately. Was I the one to offer...to help...to accept the responsibility? While I was mulling over these options it dawned on me that he had stopped crying and had fallen asleep on my lap. I stood up slowly and carried him into the house. I lay him on a couch in the den and covered him with an afghan; I went out onto the porch to listen to some classical music and to give myself the opportunity to think clearly. -------------------------------------- I must have fallen asleep; it is one the sins of advancing age. I awoke and looked at my watch. It was 4:15. I went into the house and into the den - but Chris wasn't there. I call out to him - no answer. "I hope this kid didn't take off on his own," I thought. Then I had an idea - maybe he went back to the shack to get some of his stuff to bring back here. I quickly drove over there. As I pulled up in front I noticed a country sheriff's car parked right at the front of the door. I got out of my car just as a tall, young, very blonde and very gorgeous looking man came out. "Good afternoon, sir. Deputy Wally Travers? Looking for Christopher Carson? Have any idea of where he may be?" He had this terribly annoying habit of ending each of his very clipped sentences like they were questions. But he did look fabulous in his freshly ironed uniform; it fit him so beautifully, bring out every muscle in his obviously remarkable body. "Good afternoon, deputy. I'm Wayne Franklin and I..." "Oh, Mr. Franklin, sir," he interrupted with enthusiasm in his voice. "Pleasure and honor to meet you, sir?" He extended his right hand and we shook hands. "Heard so much about you and that magnificently restored house of yours? Real pleasure for me to meet you at last, sir." He gave me a great big wonderful smile. He was an exceedingly attractive young man. "Thank you, deputy. Thanks. I came out here to find Chris myself. He was over at my place for a while, we had lunch together and then he seems to have disappeared when I fell asleep. I do know that he is very upset that the authorities took his grandmother away." "Yes, had to be done, sir. Old lady was a danger to herself and others, especially the boy? Don't know where the mom's gone off to? She usually shows up every month or so then takes off again for parts unknown?" "I understand, but taking his grandmother away really upset Chris. He's really at a loss. Has any of his things been removed from the house?" "Yes, looks like the boy's clothes have been taken, but don't know for sure by who? A lotta other stuff is also gone." I thought for a moment. "Deputy, are you going out to search for him now?" He nodded. "I wonder if you would do me a favor - a really big favor. If and when you find him, could you...you know, could you find out from him if he would like to stay with me for a few days while...while this matter about his grandma is being straightened out." The deputy looked right at me. "Kid's been going through a very difficult time and shoving him off to a foster home could be very upsetting, but the law says...well, see what I can do, sir? Being a new resident and all, the sheriff and judge may not be agreeable? But, I'll try, sir?" I extended my hand and we shook again. Deputy Wally had a wonderfully strong masculine handshake. "Oh, and deputy, if it's Judge Collinsworth you'll be speaking to, please give him my warmest regards." The deputy just stared at me as I walked back to my car. I didn't want to go right home; I was already missing Chris and I knew the house would be empty. I drove to a local shopping center and bought some things I needed around the place - tools and such - and then went into the Wal-Mart. I walked through the boys department and picked up a few clothing items for Chris - I was getting pretty damned attached to that kid and bought these things in the hope that he would be returning very soon. I bought shorts, jeans. pocket tees, underwear, socks, a belt and a ball cap. "I certainly hope he returns; he's a really good companion and a great kid to have around," I thought to myself as I paid for my purchases. -------------------------------------- It was about 7:45 and I was sitting at the large kitchen table picking at my dinner and leafing through the Sunday New York Times when there was a light tapping on the screen door. I quickly looked up and saw Deputy Wally standing there. I was very excited and incredibly happy to see him again. I sprang out of my chair and practically ran to open the door. "Got someone with me you'll be happy to see?" he said as Chris walked slowly into the kitchen. He had his head down and looked very repentant. "Hi, Wayne," he said in a very low voice. He looked up at me. I noticed tears running down his face. "Forgive me?" I opened my arms to him and he ran to me. I hugged him tightly and he hugged me back and kissed my neck. "I'm so sorry, Wayne. I shouldn'ta done wha' I did." "Of course, I forgive you Chris, now that you're safe and sound and back here again." I stood up, picking up Chris as I did. He practically wrapped himself around me. It felt very comfortable holding him. "Where'd you find him?" I asked Deputy Wally. "Backyard of one of the other kid's home? Kid hid Chris out and tried to tell me that he didn't know where he was; went into the backyard and there he was in a tent?" "Why'd you leave Chris? I told you that you could stay with me, didn't I?" "Yeah, ya did, but I didn't really...er...believe ya?" "Know something, Chris, and you too, Deputy Travers. When I say something I mean it. I very, very rarely go back on my word. Okay?" Chris looked very apologetic and gave me a "it won't happen again" look. I assumed both Chris and Wally were hungry. "Hey, you guys hungry? I made a wonderful dinner and there's plenty left." "Great!" Deputy Wally answered. Chris nodded and I carried him over to the table and set him down in one of the chairs. Wally sat down and made himself comfortable, unbuttoning the top buttons on his shirt. I stared for a second or two at his partially revealed chest, then continued serving the dinner. I had made chicken and dumplings along with a nice salad. My two men ate heartily, both asking for second helpings that I was delighted to serve. Strange - that was very strange. Wasn't it? Yet that was the way I thought of Chris and Wally - "my men". What was happening? Why did I think of Wally as being part of my family? I knew I had been fantasizing about Chris being part of the family - that's why I bought him the clothes, I think. But Wally? Big, hunky, masculine Wally? Who wears a wedding band on the ring finger of his left hand? True, he is so incredibly gorgeous - but Wally? Was I secretly lusting after Deputy Wally? Wally had changed out of his uniform and into civies. He was wearing tight jeans, a short-sleeve dark plaid shirt and work boots. I found that I was looking at his arms and chest over and over again. He had a very light dusting of blonde hair on his very muscular arms, which somehow just fascinated me. His chest, what I could see of it, was hairless, manly and very well defined. I kept my distance as they ate, but my eyes were constantly wandering from Wally's arms to his chest to his beautifully virile yet almost childlike face. After both Chris and Wally finished their dinners along with two helpings of cherry pie (vanilla ice cream on top) and patted their bellies, they smiled at each other and both stood up and hugged me. Chris was first with a big hug and a big wet kiss on my cheek. He was smiling a wonderful, great big smile. I was thrilled to see the kid happy. Then Wally came up and threw his muscular arms around me and gave me a big bear hug. He pulled me to his chest and practically enveloped me. I put my arms on his back and was rewarded with the feel of awesome acres of rippling muscles - it felt so marvelous and so comforting to be held by, and holding, this beautiful man. I suddenly noticed that I was becoming aroused! I was being held by a man and I was getting sexually aroused. But what really surprised me was that I could swear I detected that Wally was also getting aroused. I could feel a distinct bulge in his manly crotch. When he pulled back he planted a very light and quick kiss on my lips. "You're a wonderful person, Wayne Franklin, for helping and caring that boy? God knows, he really needs it? Helping me too!" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You don't know this, but I could use some.some real help and caring too?" This statement from Wally really surprised me. He was asking me to comfort him. Why? "What about your wife, Wally?" Wally shook his head. "Aren't you married?" I asked. Wally shook his head again. "What's that wedding band doing on your finger?" "I was married once...in my teens...back in Louisiana? But it was annulled? Department likes us to wear bands `cause sometimes - believe it or not - women come on to us?" He continued to slowly shake his head. "No, I live alone, Wayne...very much alone." He looked rather dejected so I put my arms around him again and gave him a very hard squeeze. "Me! Me! Me!" Chris shouted as he ran toward us. We participated in a three-way group hug and I had to admit it was comforting and very satisfying. Both guys smiled at me and I could not help but smile back at them. Chris, so waif like and needful, and Wally, so stunningly gorgeous, so masculine and so eager - and apparently so needful, too. I cleared the dishes and both Chris and Wally helped. We walked into the den and I turned on the television. I gave the remote to Chris and he began the male ritual of flipping idly through the channels. "This is great, Wayne. Ya get so many channels! It's wunnerful." "Glad it gets the Christopher Carson seal of approval," I said jokingly. I was sitting next to Chris and Wally sat opposite us. After an hour or so of channel flipping (there are hundreds of channels on my satellite system) I put my hand on Chris' scabby left knee. "I think its bedtime for you young man. Where do you want to sleep?" "In the turret!" "In the turret?" "Yeah! I been walkin' pass this place when they been buildin' it for two years and I keep lookin' at the turret and thinkin' how great it would be if I live in this house or stay here and sleep in the turret. Can I sleep in the turret Wayne? Can I?" "The turret it is! However, there's no bed in the turret right now so maybe Wally will help me move up a rollaway bed up from the third floor." I looked at Big Wally. "Okay?" "Fine with me. Just lead the way?" -------------------------------------- Forty-five minutes later, Chris was safely all tucked-in into his temporary bed up in the turret. He seemed to absolutely love it. Wally and I said good night to him and we both kissed him on the forehead before leaving. Chris had asked me to sit with him for a while, which I was glad to do. Before going to bed for the night, Chris had bathed in one of the bathrooms of the master suite. And it was quite an experience - and lesson for me! I was with him in the bathroom as he undressed and I noticed again how thin and scrawny Chris was. I immediately thought "child abuse". His legs were like sticks - the thighs no thicker than the calves - and his arms barely had any muscle. Malnutrition is definitely child abuse. I remembered reading about children who do not get proper nutrition when they are young - how their brains don't develop properly, and I began to worry about poor Chris. I felt so deeply sorry for him and just wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be all right from now on. Unfortunately, I could not do this because I didn't know if it was true or not, or if I would have any control at all about his future. When he took off his tee shirt I saw something I had not noticed before; Chris' chest and back were covered with bruises. "How did you get these marks, Chris?" I asked. He looked me directly in the eyes and then looked away. He was staring at the Jacuzzi and his fingers went to his mouth; he began chewing one of his fingernails. "Chris, if I'm going to help you I really need to know." He looked at me again and his eyes were burning. "My mom did `em las' time I saw her," he said in a barely audible voice. I figured as much. I smiled at him. "Thank you, Chris. I know that was hard." I looked at his rather filth body. "You know what I think we're going to do? I think I'm going to let you soak in the tub for about twenty minutes and then you'll take a shower. Okay?" "Yeah, but why?" "Because you seem.you seem to be very dirty Chris and some of that dirt's really stuck to your skin. The bath will help the dirt come off during the shower." "Okay. We don't got a shower at home and I don't get to wash too much." "Where do you shower?" "Well, sometime one of the kid's folk let me shower at their place." I began running the water into the tub and put in some bubble bath I'd found somewhere in the house. This bigger of the two bathrooms adjoining the master bedroom was equipped with a Jacuzzi, separate tub (with hand held shower) and a glassed-in shower. Yes, I'm extravagant - this, however, is my dream house. Chris was totally unashamed and stripped naked in front of me. His body was completely smooth. He had a nice summer tan and didn't look burned at all; I thought this unusual for a blonde. I looked at his dick and balls and at the smooth area over his genitals. Chris was totally hairless and he had a certain odor about him. He smelled like urine and extremely unwashed boy. He was uncircumcised and I'd say that his dick was about two inches soft. His scrotal sac was small and tight against his body, and I could just about see the outline of his tiny testicles. But the kid had one enormous foreskin. The head of his cock had to be at least a half-inch from the end of that foreskin, maybe more. This gave his entire dick the look of a little fat sausage. The foreskin had a tight opening at the end. I told him to soak in the tub all the way up to his chin and then wash with soap and a washcloth - and to scrub every part of his body at least twice. I asked if he knew how to wash under his foreskin and he looked at me with a bewildered expression on his face and shook his head. "I never touch my pee-pee `cause my gran'ma says it's sinful." I sat down on a stool and looked at him. "You must clean under the foreskin, Chris. You can develop...er...certain problems if you don't. May I show you?" He nodded. "Okay. You have to pull the skin back like this." And I showed him. I took his small penis in my hand and gently peeled the foreskin back. "Then you have to wash this area very thoroughly. After that you pull the skin forward again. Okay?" He nodded and suddenly I could feel his little dick getting hard in my hand. "Wayne, what's happenin' to my pee-pee? It's gettin'...I don't know! Wayne what's happenin'?" Chris was in a state of panic. I soothingly rubbed his back. "Sh-h-h-h. There's nothing to worry about, Christopher." This scene took me back to the time I had this very same discussion with my own sons. "It's what happens to men. When men get...uh...excited, their penis - and that's what it's called, Chris, a penis - gets hard. Didn't you ever wake up in the morning and feel that your penis was hard?" "Yeah, I did, but I didn't do nothin' `cause my gran'ma said terrible things happen when ya touch yaself down there. I didn't never touch it." "That's good. Now by excited I mean that sometimes blood rushes to the penis and makes it bigger and makes it hard. It is called an erection. Some boys and men call it a boner or a hard-on." He smiled when I said this. "Yeah, I can `member one of the guys talkin' about gettin' a boner." "Right. Well, this is all very natural and is part of the human reproductive process." Chris gave me a quizzical look. "Haven't you learned anything about this is school? You know, about sex...men and women..." He shook his head. I was in a quandary. I didn't know what to say or do next particularly because I felt myself getting aroused at the sight of Chris' boner. His erection was about 3-1/2 inches long and quite beautiful. "Okay, now is not the time to discuss this, Chris. Just be assured that this is completely normal for men and boys. We can have a long talk about it sometimes soon. Okay?" "Okay, Wayne. I'll take my bath now." When Chris was soaking in the tub, I brought out the television that was installed; this way, he wouldn't be completely bored while soaking. The TV was in a cabinet (I know it's an extravagance but I am a television addict) and Chris was thrilled to see it. I selected a program that he wanted to watch and left. By the way, I also have a telephone and a PC monitor built into that bathroom. I joined Wally downstairs. He was already cleaning up the kitchen and I worked alongside him. I told him about the discussion Chris and I had before he got into the tub. Wally chuckled at my discomfort. After twenty minutes or so I went up to the bathroom to check on Chris. The bath water was a real deep brown color; plenty of crud had been washed off this boy. He stood up so that I could scrub his back. I drained the tub and turned the shower on for him, telling him to wash his hair and then wash his entire body again so that every bit of dirt would go down the drain. "Wash your hair a couple of times and don't forget to scrub that face of yours." "Okay, Wayne. Wayne?" "Yes, Chris?" "I.I." He looked embarrassed. "I wash unner the foreskin?" "That's good. Did it feel all right?" "Yeah, felt real great!" "I'm glad you liked it." After he showered and dried himself Chris came out into the bedroom (completely naked, I may add) where I had his new clothes laid out. He looked quite handsome all freshly scrubbed and with his long hair combed. He put on a pair of his new underwear; he said they fit fine and they certainly did. He looked at the other items and started to cry. He ran into my arms. "I love you, Wayne. You're so good t'me," he whispered into my ear. "I don't know why, but you're so good t'me." I hugged him close and gave him a big smile and said, "Because you deserve it, Chris. You are a great kid and I'm happy to do anything for you. Remember that - anything!" He gave me a warm smile and we walked up the steps to the turret bedroom. Wally joined us and gave Chris a kiss on the forehead before he went downstairs. Chris looked disturbed as I bent over to his him give him his good night kiss. "Can ya sit wit' me a while, Wayne?" he sounded a little upset. "Sure; anything you want Chris." I sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on his covered chest. "Is there anything you want to talk about?" He shook his head. Then he looked straight into my eyes with incredible anxiety and intensity. "Wayne? Will ya be here when I wake up?" I was shocked at this statement. Then, after thinking about it for a second, it made perfect sense. The kid was used to being abandoned - being totally alone with nobody who cared an iota about his welfare. His mother certainly didn't.and his grandmother couldn't. I felt so unbelievably drawn to this child - to help him and to mother him and to hold him and to try to soothe away all the cares and problems in his young and unhappy life. I knew I could not do this - at least not right away. But I wanted to make a start. I smiled at him. "Yes, Chris, I'll be here when you wake up. I'll be two floors below in my own bedroom. And I'll be here for you all day tomorrow and the next day and the next. I want you to know that I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that this becomes your home and that..." He sat up quickly and threw those skinny arms around my neck and started hugging me tightly. "Oh, Wayne," he said in a half-choked voice. "I think this's the bestest day in my whole life." He started to sob again. I held him tightly and hugged him and kissed his fresh smelling hair. When we separated we didn't say one word. We just smiled at each other and I tucked him in again. I gently kissed his forehead, stood up, turned off the light and walked down the stairs to the office suite below. I left a light on in the office and the doorway opened so that Chris could find his way around in case he got up during the night. -------------------------------------- Wally and I were outside sitting on the porch, taking in the beautiful cool evening and watching the traffic go by. We were sipping some fresh lemonade. "That guy's speeding," Wally said offhandedly. "Oh, by the way, regards from Sheriff Carmichael and Judge Collinsworth?" "Thanks. I'm glad they remembered me." "Oh, they remembered, all right!" he said with a big grin on his face. "I noticed you changed into civies before you arrived, Wally." "Yes. When I brought Chris back to HQ I changed before leaving? Also took my car? Have tomorrow and Tuesday off?" he said with a certain wistful sound in his voice. I immediate picked it up and made a decision. "Great! Maybe you'd like to stay over and keep Chris and me company for the next couple of days. There's plenty of work to do and I love to cook for more than one person - as you may have noticed." Wally chuckled. "I've noticed. Sure, that'd be real nice, Wayne? Don't know what I can do to help but certainly willing to try? I'm the very independent sort, you know - been on my own since I was sixteen?" "Wow! And how old are you now?" "Twenty-three," Wally said sheepishly. "Be twenty-four on Christmas Day?" "Incredible! Do you know that you and Chris have the same birthday?" "Really? That poor kid is also cursed with having his birthday on the holiday?" "Yes he is." We both chuckled slightly. We were both silent with our own thoughts for a while, staring out at nothing in particular. I cannot say what Wally was thinking about, but I know that my mind was in a state of ultimate confusion. I was trying to reconcile my passed life with the events of today. The fact was that I had met two people this weekend that I felt - no, I knew! - I was attracted to. What I could not figure out was why. One, an eleven-year-old boy, was a skinny waif, homeless, uneducated, troubled and not too attractive. The other, a twenty-three-year-old deputy sheriff, was educated, beautiful, desirable and also very troubled. I found both erotically appealing. I didn't know why or how this could happen. What I did know was that these facts were indisputable. "Wayne," I told myself, "Wayne, for fifty-four years you have live one kind of life - family, home and work. Now, completely unexpectedly, another one seems to have surfaced. Those fifty-four years were very, very good to you - four children, five grandchildren, a great career resulting in pots of money and the good life. Now you are embarking on a new phase of your life - a new house, a new style of living, a new location and definitely new attractions, Chris and Wally. Go with your instincts! They've always proved to be extremely reliable. Just go with them; how wrong can they be this time?" Wally leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He began rolling his glass of lemonade between the palms of his hands; he seemed to be getting agitated. "Be leaving now, Wayne? Don't think I'll be such good company for you - at least, not for tonight?" He stood up and put his glass on the table. I was stunned into silence. "Good night, Wayne." "Please don't go, Wally. What's the matter? Is there a problem? If something's bothering you, please tell me. We've been through quite a bit together today and if there's something that's really bothering you won't you please tell me? Maybe I can help - who knows? I've been around a lot and I've seen a lot and maybe I even know a few things. I was married for a long time and I'm now divorced; I have kids and grandkids." I stood and walked close to him. "So please speak to me, Wally. Please!" He slowly walked off the porch and into the house. He was silent and motionless, standing in the middle of the large entrance foyer. His back was towards me. He hung his head and I could see that great muscular back heaving. He slow shook his head and began to sob lightly. I just want to run up to him and throw my arms around that great hulking man and hug him tightly and soothe away all his cares and all anxieties. When he did speak, it was very quietly; I could barely hear him. "Wayne, I have...have certain problems...just don't know if I can tell you yet...know you'll hate me if I do?" "Wally, after what you did for me today I could never hate you. So please tell me. Please?" I pleaded. "Please...my big, beautiful Wally." When he heard me say this he stopped shaking his head and very slowly turned and looked at me. There was surprise on his face, combined with fear and longing. Oh, such terrible, terrible longing. He walked slowly into my outstretched arms and I held him close and tight and rubbed that muscular back; and I rubbed the back of his neck and his head and rubbed all the way down to the top of his butt. He had great difficulty speaking, but finally did. "I'm gay, Wayne. I-I-I'm gay!" he managed to croak out. He was sobbing almost uncontrollably on my shoulder and getting me pretty wet - but I loved it; I loved every second of it, every blessed second. I held him tightly and felt every tremor wrack his powerful body. I knew I had never felt anything as wonderful and as endearing in my entire life. I continued rubbing him and brought my mouth to his ear. "Is that all? Is that your terrible secret? There's nothing to be concerned about, my sweet. Nothing at all." He pulled his head back with a shocked expression on his face. I brought my lips to his and kissed him - softly, very softly at first and then harder. Wally opened his mouth and I slowly moved my tongue into the recesses of his hot, quivering mouth. We kissed passionately, Wally eventually bringing his large tongue into my mouth and exploring every crevice. It felt heavenly and comforting; he was so gentle and so extraordinarily loving. We broke the kiss and smiled at each other, Wally smiling through his tears. I kept my arms around Wally's waist and he walked with me. I locked the place up, shut off the lights, and set the alarms. "Knew that I had to tell someone and very soon?" He said in a low choked voice. "Woulda cracked up if I hadn't? Ready to come apart, Wayne; it was tearing me up so much? And then we met today and you seemed so caring and kind and gentle. I saw how you treated that poor throwaway kid...like he was some kinda royalty. I thought...I knew...just knew that you were the one I could be honest with?" I looked at my beautiful Wally; he was being honest with me and I knew that I would have to be very honest with him. "I think I know what you are going through Wally?" "You do? How?" "I'm going through the same problem myself." He gave me a very quizzical look and put his hands out in a sort of "what are you getting at" gesture. "Wally, since I first met you today at Chris' house, I have found myself...well, I've found myself drawn to you. By that I mean that I've found you to be...to be extremely sexually interesting...to me. Now, I must tell you that I...I'm straight, at least I've always thought of myself that way; I've never had any kind of gay relationship in my life. In fact, I've never had any kind of homosexual experience in my life." I paused and looked at Wally, who was reacting exactly as I knew he would - he was in a state of shock. "Yet somehow, and I can't explain why, I find that I would like to know you - if you get what I mean." "Think I do, Wayne. You want us to go to bed together, right?" "Yes, that's right." I chuckled, probably from nervousness. "As I've said, I've always been straight and I can't explain what has changed. I've been wracking my brain and I really can't come up with any answer. I just know that from the first minute I saw you in your uniform, walking out of that shack, I've had this overpowering urge to be with you." "The uniform; gets them every time," Wally joked. I laughed again. "I can't promise that things will work out satisfactorily for us, and I can't promise that I will even like having...having a relationship, sex if you will, with a man. But I can honestly tell you that I...that I find you extremely handsome and incredibly desirable, and I would love to spend the night...with you." "I understand. Really! Think I understand what you're saying, Wayne, and it's more than all right with me, `cause I'm really hot for you too." I laughed at Wally's succinct distillation of my ramblings. I put my arms around him and stroked his back and arms soothingly, calmly and gently. "Come, my big, beautiful Deputy Wally. Let's go upstairs." He gave me a smile; we slowly walked together up the main stairs to the bedroom. The End of Chapter 1 (Please Return For Chapter 2 Soon)