Date: Wed, 15 Jul 2009 16:25:33 EDT
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening  chapters 27 - 28

Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 27 -- Back in Pennsylvania.

**Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read
this.

The following morning we left to go to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, our final
vacation stop.  We would spend two days in the general area, so we could
see the major points of interest.  First, we visited an Amish village in
Strasburg, where we toured a blacksmith's shop, a one-room schoolhouse, a
farm, an operational watermill and windmill and a smokehouse, where they
cured their meats.  The boys watched the blacksmith for a while, but didn't
think he was as impressive as the blacksmith they had worked with at
Williamsburg, so we moved on.  The one place that did interest them was the
one-room schoolhouse, where we talked about what it would have been like to
attend classes there.

"It would be kind of weird to have all different grades in the same
classroom," Brandon remarked, after seeing the one-room schoolhouse.

"Yeah, kids our age would have been in with first and second graders,"
Danny observed, after learning the typical age range would have been from
four to sixteen.  "How could the teacher teach all those different grades
at once."

"I don't think the teacher did," I informed him.  "I think the teacher
basically taught the older students and used them to help teach the younger
ones, while he or she was busy with a different group.  They might do some
things together, like maybe history or geography, but the arithmetic,
reading, writing and spelling would have been done separately."

"I think that would have been pretty neat," Jay announced.  "I wouldn't
have minded helping the younger kids learn."

"Me neither," Ricky agreed.  "Especially if it meant I wouldn't have to be
studying all of the time."  I guess I should have figured he'd have a
hidden motive in there somehow.

All four of them were also intrigued by the many physical differences in
the classroom too, like the students' desks.  They quickly noted these
desks weren't the one-piece design they were familiar with, nor were they a
single desk and chair, like they had at home.  These were oddly built, at
least to them.  That was because the seat for one desk was attached to the
front of the desk behind it.  The seat would fold down when in use, but
could be lifted up and out of the way when no one needed it.

"I don't think I'd like these desks," Brandon observed.  "You'd be too
close to the person behind you and they could do things to you without you
noticing it."  I had to chuckle to myself at his comment, because I was
about to prove him correct.

That happened after the boys noticed the inkwells in the desk.  At first
they were merely intrigued by this hole in the desk top, which I informed
was placed there to hold a small bottle of ink the student would use to dip
their quill pens to write with.  After I explained that a quill pen is just
a large feather that was used to write with, I let them know this was done
after the tip of the hard center shaft had been sharpened into a fine
point.  That was when I also told them that some of the mischievous boys
might have dipped the pigtail of the girl in front of him into the inkwell,
which was not an uncommon occurrence back then.

"He might have done this because he disliked the girl," I informed them,
"or possibly because he DID like her, and he used this as kind of a warped
way of getting her attention."  The boys thought that was kind of a sick
thing to do, but I think some of them could also see themselves doing it.

"I bet you did that," Ricky challenged, while flashing me a smirk.

"I'm afraid that was even before my time," I replied, while feigning hurt
that he thought I was that old.

"Oh, come on," Danny challenged.  "We know you went to school with George
Washington and Ben Franklin.  That's how you know about all of these
things."  The others were laughing hysterically now, knowing they had
finally paid me back for some of the things I would occasionally do to
them.

In addition to inkwell, there was also a small paddle-like chalkboard the
students would use to write their work on.  I explained this was because
paper and ink were not as easy to come by back then and a chalkboard could
be used over and over, with only the chalk needing to be replaced.  The
students would do their assignment, get it checked, erase it and then move
on to their next task.

"There was no way that any of the students could claim the dog ate their
homework," I joked, "although I guess they might be able to claim the pooch
had erased it with his wagging tail."

We also examined the replicas of the textbooks the students might have
studied from, such as a set of McGuffy's readers and some old geography and
history books.  The boys quickly noted how strange the McGuffy readers were
and how thin the history books seemed.

"No wonder you can remember all that history, Pop," Jay announced, while
pointing at a slender history book.  "When you went to school, your history
books had less than half of the stuff ours have in them."  This drew
another round of giggles and the boys all gave Jay a high-five, as a way of
showing their appreciation for how he had just zinged me.

After the boys regained control of their emotions again, we discussed how
the students would also be taught morality and patriotism at school.  I
advised the boys that the students might also be required to memorize such
things as the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, passages
from the US Constitution and important dates from US history.

"I'm glad we only have to remember a few dates," Jay remarked, "because I
have enough trouble just keeping track of those."

Our discussion ended when Jay spotted a collection of hickory sticks in a
bucket against the wall and asked me what they were for.  I took that
opportunity to explain to all of them about how corporal, or physical,
punishment was used to discipline unruly students and described how the
hickory sticks would be utilized for that purpose.

"The disruptive pupil would have the palms of his hands or backside whipped
by one of those 'switches,' wielded by the teacher," I told them, "and this
was often done in front of the entire class, to dissuade others from
misbehaving."  I went on to add that not only would that student be
punished at school, but if the parents found out about what he had done, he
would often also be disciplined at home, getting another spanking or
whipping from his father.  The boys cringed at that thought, especially
Ricky, when he reflected back upon all the times he'd been in trouble at
school, before he came to live with me.

"Damn, I'd have been in real trouble back then, wouldn't I Dad?" he asked
me, while looking more than a little troubled.

"Most likely," I agreed.  "Adults back then had little sympathy for a child
who couldn't show self-restraint and was a disruptive influence."
Instinctively, Ricky unconsciously rubbed his backside as I said that,
which got the others teasing him unmercifully, about what life would have
been like for him back then.

Once we returned to the items at hand, Brandon asked about a list of rules
he spotted hanging on a wall.

"Those are rules for the teacher, not for the students," I explained,
before we began to study them.

I went on to inform the boys that many of the teachers wouldn't have been
much older than the students they taught, nor would these teachers have
much more education than what they would have received in a similar
one-room schoolhouse.  I did tell them that some teachers might be older
and committed to spending their lifetime teaching, and they would be called
a schoolmaster (male) and schoolmistress or schoolmarm (female).  These
teachers were paid very little, generally four to ten dollars a month, so
many of them couldn't afford their own home and would board with the family
of one of their students.  This also meant the adults in the family would
be able to monitor that teacher's activities and make sure he or she was a
moral person and abiding by the established tenets of that era.

This lead us to examine the list of rules the teacher was expected to
follow.  Carefully, we examined them and discussed what each one meant.
They read as follows.

1. Teachers each day will fill lamps [with oil], clean chimneys.

2. Each teacher will bring a bucket of water and a scuttle of coal for the
day's session.

3. Make your pens carefully.  You may whittle nibs to the individual taste
of the pupils.

4. Men teachers may take one evening each week for courting purposes, or
two evenings a week if they go to church regularly.

5. After ten hours in school, the teachers may spend the remaining time
reading the Bible or other good books.

6. Women teachers who marry or engage in unseemly conduct will be
dismissed.

7. Every teacher should lay aside from each pay a goodly sum of his
earnings for his benefit during his declining years, so that he will not
become a burden to society.

8. Any teacher who smokes, uses liquor in any form, frequents pool or
public halls, or gets shaved in a barber shop will give good reason to
suspect his worth, intention, integrity and honesty.

9. The teacher who performs his labor faithfully and without fault for five
years will be given an increase of twenty-five cents per week in his pay,
providing the Board of Education approves.

This discussion turned out to be quite a lengthy one, and we covered what
the teacher's life would have been like and why they would have accepted
all those restrictions without objection.

"Would you have wanted to be a teacher back then?" Brandon asked me.

"Possibly, but I wouldn't have lasted for very long," I added.  "It looks
like I would have found a new profession, once I got married and started my
family.  Even though males were allowed to marry, it would have been hard
to support a family on those earnings."

"Not only that," Ricky followed, "but I don't think you would have liked
living by those rules either.  Ten hours at school, doing all those chores,
only reading the Bible and not allowed to go out and do much else -- and I
don't think they would have let you take kids in to live with you, like you
did for us."  The others all nodded their heads in agreement and I had to
concur.  That would have been quite a difficult and lonely occupation for
me to endure, if I'd have lived back then.

Now that we had covered those areas, we left the schoolhouse and took a
buggy ride around the area.  The five of us sat in the back of a small
black carriage, pulled by a single horse, while the driver sat on a
separate seat in front of the enclosed passenger compartment.  The ride was
really quite enchanting and the boys all seemed to get a kick out of it
too.  We also rehashed how much longer it would have taken to get from
place to place, if they had to use a horse and carriage all the time, and
how that would limit how much they could do or how many places they might
eventually visit.  Even making a trip from your farm into town would take
at least ten times longer than it did now.  It also gave the boys a chance
to appreciate what it would have been like to live a hundred or more years
ago and how much better off they actually are, living with all the
technological advantages.

It was early evening by the time we finished our ride, and the boys had
been complaining about being hungry, so we went out to eat next.  After
dinner, I wanted to do something different with the boys, but didn't know
what.  As I drove along, I happened to spot a miniature golf course, so I
pulled in.  This immediately caused the boys to voice their approval.

"All right," Danny shouted excitedly.  "I'm going to whip all of your butts
at this."  The others began to protest, that is except for Jay, who I think
knew he was no match for Danny's athleticism and competitive nature.

It was really quite entertaining, although none of us played very well.
When we were done, I took all the boys over to the ice cream stand, which
was right next door and owned by the same people.  Once we finished our
treat, we went back to our motel room and spent the rest of the night
watching television, when the boys weren't cleaning up.

In fact, their showers became a bit of a curiosity for me, as they chose to
team up in different pairs tonight.  Jay dragged Brandon off first, leaving
Danny and Ricky behind.  I merely sat next to them, with a puzzled look on
my face.

"What's up with this?" I inquired, trying to learn what led to this unusual
pairing.

"Oh, nothing," Ricky answered almost matter-of-factly.  "It just that we've
all become much closer during this trip and Jay and Brandon thought it was
time to get to know each other better."  I raised my eyebrows in response
and Danny thought he'd better clarify the point for me.

"Brandon's never played with an uncircumcised cock before and wanted to
have a try before we got back home," he blurted out, which caused Ricky to
give him a strange and surprised look.  Danny didn't give this much heed,
however, and continued to explain this for me.  "Brandon was afraid he
might not have another opportunity after we got back, so he thought he'd
better do it now.  Jay is nearly as eager about doing it as Brandon is too,
so you don't have to worry."  I wasn't so sure about this, seeing that pair
was only temporarily under my supervision, but I'd address that with them,
once we were alone.

"Well, I guess it's okay, as long as they both agreed to what they're
doing," I responded.  "I guess you might say no harm, no foul in this
case."  The other pair chuckled and then I continued.  "It's been a while
since you two have showered together too, so do you have plans as well?"
They looked briefly at each other and then back toward me, nodding their
heads in agreement.  "Well, I'm glad you boys all feel comfortable with
each other, but I must admit this has been an extremely interesting, and
sometimes surprising trip."  They both giggled at my response.

In the other room, Brandon wasted no time in checking out Jay's prick.
"Man, this is neat, the way the skin covers up the end of your cock, Jay."

"Well, we were all born like that, it's just that your parents had the
doctor cut off the extra skin while you were still a baby."

"I know," Brandon acknowledged.  "I learned about it in health class, but
I've never seen one this close before or been able to check it out for
myself."

"Don't be shy.  You can do whatever you want, as long as it doesn't hurt
me," Jay told him.

"Thanks, Jay.  You're all right."  Jay smiled at the older boy's praise.

Brandon got down on his knees in the shower and began to check out this new
phenomenon before him.  He pulled on the loose skin, stretching it and
pulling it apart so he could peer inside.  He pulled the hood back and
forth over the glans, intrigued with how it worked.  This caused Jay to get
hard and, soon, the excess skin was pulled so tight that it lost its
fascination.  Now, Brandon began to lick Jay's head and taste it, in a
prelude to giving him a blowjob.  Brandon bathed Jay's groin in saliva,
without ignoring any part of it, including his scrotum and the pubic mound
above it.  By the time he took Jay's tool down his throat, Jay was so
sexually excited that it didn't take long for him to blow his load.
Brandon's bobbing motions were instantly rewarded with five bursts of
honey-glazed cum from this uncut delight.  Brandon eagerly slurped up the
entire load, before letting go of Jay's prick.

Once Jay had recuperated, he was more than ready to change places with
Brandon.  He wasted no time in positioning himself, so he could work on
Brandon's entire groin region, too, and return the favor.  He used his
tongue to explore the older boy's penis and bring Brandon to a state of
arousal.  Then, he took Brandon's boy meat in his mouth and worked that big
cock, well at least it was big to Jay, and it wasn't long before he sucked
Brandon's boy juice from his gonads.  Brandon's cock spurted half a dozen
thick, creamy ropes into Jay's waiting orifice and Jay greedily swallowed
each load.  Once they finished and Brandon had recovered, Brandon wrapped
his arms around Jay, in order to caress and kiss him passionately, as a
reward for his efforts.  Surprisingly, Jay allow this, and when they came
out of the shower, they were a lot closer than when they went in.

As Ricky and Danny entered the bathroom, the other pair came over and sat
side by side on the sofa to watch TV.  Before they got too comfortable, I
reminded them it was time to make their final calls home, to let their
parents know they were fine and that we'd be home Sunday.

After Danny and Ricky entered the shower, Ricky decided he wanted to teach
his brother the new trick that he and Jay had discovered by accident.
"Danny, I want to show you something Jay and I did together.  It's almost
like fucking and it feels really good."

"Okay.  I'm game," Danny quickly informed him.  "What do I have to do?"

"Turn around and face away from me," Ricky explained.  "I'm going to put my
wiener between your legs and I want you to hold you legs tightly against my
dick.  When you've done that, I'll pump my wiener back and forth, until I
shoot."

Danny smiled at this simple idea, but thought it was worth a try.  Before
they started, though, he helped soap up his brother's dick, seductively
stimulating it.  Once Ricky was erect, they got into the position Ricky had
told him about and Ricky began to thrust his boner in the warm lining of
his older brother's thighs.  Ricky humped and humped against the fleshy
area below his brother's crotch, and soon began to feel the initial signals
of his imminent sexual release growing in his loins.  His arms were wrapped
around Danny and he was covering Danny's back in kisses, as he pleasured
himself.  Finally, Ricky could take no more and arched his back, before
releasing his seed.  It left his body as strings of creamy fluid that
jettisoned between Danny's legs and splashed against the shower wall.  As
the last few drops oozed from his joystick and dribbled down the inside of
his brother's legs, Ricky's knees gave out from under him.  Danny turned
quickly and helped to catch his brother, which prevented him from falling.
Then Danny patiently waited for Ricky to recover his strength.  After
seeing Ricky's reaction to this little sex-ercise, Danny was eager to give
it try too.

Once Danny had moved into position, he quickly discovered he was a little
too tall to do this comfortably with Ricky.  His erect dick was pointing
directly into Ricky's cute little butt instead of pointing under it.  It
became obvious that the only way that he and Ricky could do this was if
Danny bent his knees, thus moving his waist lower.  Although it wasn't a
very comfortable position, Danny did it anyways and was soon glad he made
the attempt.  It didn't take long before he began to feel the churning in
his testicles, which indicated his toy cannon would soon fire.  Several
thrusts later, he was emptying his baby making fluids between Ricky's legs,
with it splattering all over the tub.  Regaining his composure, Danny
turned Ricky around to face him.

"You were right, little brother.  That was really nice.  In fact, it was
pretty close to the real thing."

"How would you know?"  Ricky asked, while scanning Danny's face and reading
his brother's surprised reaction.  That's when Danny realized he'd let the
cat out of the bag.

"You've done it before, haven't you?  You've really fucked somebody?"
Realizing there was no way he was going to be able to deny it, Danny nodded
his head to confirm what he'd already let slip.  "Who was it?  Was it
Brandon?  When did you do it?"

"If I tell you this," Danny quickly advised Ricky, "you've got to promise
you won't tell anyone else.  Do you promise?"  Ricky eagerly nodded his
agreement.  "Yes, I've done it with Brandon.  Dad helped us do it to each
other when we were at Virginia Beach."

"Dad helped you, but why?"  Ricky seemed confused, yet fascinated by the
thought.  "Didn't it hurt?"

"Yes, dad helped us," Danny reiterated.  "Brandon and I asked him to,
because we wanted to try it, but we were afraid it would hurt.  Dad showed
us how to do everything so it hardly hurt at all.  It was really
wonderful."

"Wow, you guys really did it," Ricky stated, somewhat in awe.  "That's nice
for you, but I still don't want anyone sticking their thing up me."

"Don't worry.  If you don't want to do it, no one will force you," Danny
explained, which caused Ricky to nod his understanding.  The boys finished
their shower and came back into the common area, to join the rest of us.
Danny had his arm over Ricky's shoulder as they came over to sit beside me,
which both pleased me and made me wonder what they had done it there.  We
did watch a little more television before we turned in, but it was a fairly
quiet evening.



Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 28 -- The Leg Home.

The next day, we stayed in the same general area and went to the 'Choo Choo
Barn', which displays collections of model trains and paraphernalia.  We
followed that by going to the Railroad Museum, where we saw a variety of
real trains, with the oldest have been built in 1875.  There was a
combination of both passenger and freight trains, with a variety of steam,
diesel and electric engines.  The boys were able to explore a caboose and a
steam locomotive that were on exhibit, see a working turntable (which were
used to turn train engines to go in the opposite direction on the tracks)
and observe displays dedicated to those who worked on the railroads.  The
boys were both amazed and shocked to discover these workers included many
young boys.  It seems that a lot of young males ended up working on the
railroad, performing a variety of tasks.

"You mean kids like us were forced to work back then?" Ricky asked, totally
blown away.

"Yes, sometimes their parents would make them, so they could help support
the family," I told him, "or they had to, because they were on their own
and had to take care of themselves."

"But some of them look younger than us!" Jay observed.

"Yes, and that's why Congress finally enacted child-labor laws," I
followed.  "Children as young as five often did jobs that adults were too
large to do or performed tasks to free the adults to do more substantial
work."

"Damn!" Danny exclaimed.  "Were any of these jobs dangerous?"

"Yes, like working in the mines or working around textile looms," I
informed him.

"So kids could get hurt at these jobs?" Brandon wondered.

"Yes, and sometimes they even died on the job."  That was more than enough
for the boys to stomach and made them grateful the situation had improved
for them.

"I guess we don't have it so tough then, do we?" Brandon observed, after
realizing how much tougher life was, even for young people, at various
points in history.

After lunch, we drove to Ashland to the Pioneer Tunnel Coal Mine for a
tour.  This was a thirty-five minute tour into a horizontal tunnel, which
runs 1800 feet into the side of Mahanoy Mountain, and gave us a chance to
see how anthracite coal was mined.  Anthracite coal was the fuel of the
future during most of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and was
used not only to heat homes, but to power major manufacturing operations,
such as the production of iron.  Operation in this mine ceased in 1931 and
part of the tunnel is timber supported, but a great deal of it was just a
large hole drilled and blasted out of solid rock.  Since I had been
underground and in confined areas before, I had a fair idea of what it was
going to be like in there, so I had the boys slip on jeans and a sweatshirt
over their summer wear, after we arrived.  The boys thought I was nuts to
have them do this, but it was a good thing I did, because the average
temperature in the mine is fifty-two degrees.  I'm sure they wouldn't have
enjoyed this visit nearly as much if they hadn't dressed as warmly and felt
chilled.

"Did kids work in places like this too?" Jay asked, thinking back about
what we had seen earlier.

"Yes, and even worse place," I responded, which caused him, and some of the
others, to just shake their heads in disbelief.

We rode into the mineshaft on mine cars, which had been rebuilt to carry
passengers and were pulled by an electric mine-motor.  It was kind of a
neat experience, and although the cars were of a different variety than
what we'd seen in the movies, it did remind us of the Indian Jones movie
where he was riding in the runaway mine car.  I'm not sure if thinking
about that was what caused Ricky's initial reaction, but as we started to
pull into the shaft, he became tense, started panting and clung to me, like
burdock stuck to a bear's fur.

My first reaction was to assure him that we were safe and the car would not
race wildly down the shaft, but that didn't seem to help him at all.
That's when I began to realize this wasn't based on a fear of something
he'd seen, but to something he had experienced.  It was similar to the
reaction Brandon had exhibited, when we crossed over the Chesapeake Bay
Bridge-Tunnel.  Where as Brandon had been suffering from acrophobia, Ricky
seemed to be having a claustrophobic reaction, meaning he had a fear of
being in enclosed, confined spaces.

This confused me a bit, as I had never witnessed him having problems in
elevators or other small places we'd been in, so this seemed to be
specifically triggered by this place, although I didn't understand why.  I
held on to him tightly, pinning him against my side, in an attempt to make
him feel safe.  Unfortunately, my efforts didn't seem to have much of a
positive effect.  However, as we moved out of the timber-lined portion of
the tunnel, he seemed to get better and began to relax slightly.  I wasn't
sure what had caused this change, but I was more than happy to accept it.
I'd have to explore this with him later, to see what might have triggered
it, once we were alone.

After we disembarked from the mine cars, we followed our miner-guide, who
explained various deep-mining methods.  After we completed this part of the
tour, we finished the day by taking a ride on a Lokie, which is a
colloquial term for a small locomotive.  The Henry Clay is the name of the
narrow-gauge steam engine, built in the 1920's to haul coal cars, which it
did for many years.  Today, it is assigned to pull passenger mine cars on a
scenic three-quarter mile tour around the mountain, to see another type of
coal mining, called strip mining.  This is where a steam shovel is used to
rip out tons of coal from an exposed vein, so a locomotive like the Henry
Clay could pull it to market.

We also saw a "bootleg" coalhole, which was an illegal hole dug into coal
veins by locals.  It was usually a hasty shaft that wasn't very well
supported, so the people who entered actually braved cave-ins just to get a
few bags of coal to sell or to use to heat their homes.

"Man, how poor do you have to be to do something like that?" Brandon wanted
to know.

"I'd say pretty desperate," I responded, although I wasn't sure if his
question had been rhetorical or if I answered it to his satisfaction, if it
wasn't.

During the ride, we were also able to see smoke rising from the Centralia
mine fire, which is a perpetual underground mine fire, which over the years
has resisted all attempts to extinguish it.  Over time, it has also forced
the relocation of many of the local residents.  It is expected to continue
burning until it consumes all of the combustible material available and
burns itself out.

Overall, this had been an interesting and informative day.  With the
possible exception of Ricky's panic attack, I think we all enjoyed it.  We
decided to stop for dinner along the way and before heading back to our
motel room, where we would spend our last night before heading home.

The boys were a little subdued in the room this evening, and it wasn't hard
to figure out something was wrong.  I wasn't sure if it had something to do
with what happened to Ricky earlier, so I thought I'd start a little
dialogue with the boys, to determine what was going on.  "Okay, fellas,
what's up?"

They looked at each other before Brandon spoke up.  "Nothing's wrong, we're
just a little bummed out that our vacation is almost over and we're going
back home.  We've had so much fun and we've liked being with each other so
much that it's going to be hard when we aren't together with each other all
the time any more.  Plus it means school's going to be starting again
soon."

"You're right.  There are going to be some adjustments you will need to
make, once you get back with your families, but I think we'll all be able
to cope with it.  Yes, I agree you boys will be spending less time
together, you'll have to get ready to return to school and you'll have to
deal with the end of your summer vacation, but that doesn't mean you'll
have to give up the closeness you've developed with each other.  We might
be able to work it so you'll be able to spend time together after school.
Not every night, but a couple times a week, as long as you keep your grades
up.  You'll also be able to get together on the weekends, so it won't be
totally bad.  You boys should know you are always welcome to stay at our
house, or Ricky and Danny will be allowed to come to one of your houses,
but one way or another we'll find a way for you all to still remain close
throughout the school year.  If things work out, maybe we can take another
vacation together next summer."

"That would be awesome," Ricky squealed, pleased by my suggestion.

"Do you really mean that?" Jay asked, wondering if this was only a ploy to
get them to perk up.  "You'd do this again for us?"

"Yes, I would," I informed him.  "I've enjoyed this too and wouldn't mind
doing something like this again next summer."

I suddenly began to hear a chorus of 'thank you, Dad' or 'thank you, Pop,"
and then felt several arms wrapped around me.  I guess my little pep talk
worked, because everyone began to perk up after that and the rest of the
evening went pretty much as usual.  Before we went to sleep, we packed up
all the things we wouldn't need in the morning, so we'd be ready to load
all our belongings into the van at daybreak.  After that was completed, I
had the boys take their showers

While everyone else was cleaning up, I asked Ricky to take a walk with me,
so we could discuss what happened earlier in the day.  He was reluctant and
the other boys were curious as to what was going on, but we finally left
the room and began to walk aimlessly down the sidewalk.  "Ricky, I'm a
little concerned about what happened at the mine this morning," I began,
and he gave me a very panicked look.  I wasn't sure why he was reacting
this way, but I hoped I'd soon find out.

"Uh... uh," he stammered, not getting much out.

"Ricky, I just want to know what the problem is, so I can help you, if
there's anything wrong," I explained, to ease his concerns.  I was afraid
he thought I might judge him because of what happened or start to treat him
differently, and I certainly didn't want that to happen.  "Hey, whatever it
is," I continued, "it's something we'll try to work out together.  Okay?"
He appeared to relax slightly.

"Well, uh... kind of," he finally admitted.

"Would you mind telling me about it?" I asked, hoping he would start giving
me some answers.

"Do I have to?" he whined, letting me know there were still some things he
wasn't ready to share.  Even though I felt this was important, I didn't
want to push and have him withdraw into a shell either.

"Rick, I won't force you to tell me, but I think this is important and
might do you some good to share it," I explained.  "If I know what's
troubling you, then maybe we can do something about it, so it doesn't keep
happening to you."  He soon became lost in his thoughts, as he contemplated
what I had just said.  Although I wondered what was going on in his mind,
I'd just have to wait and see if he was going to share this with me.

"What could you do about it?" he wondered aloud.

"Well, if it's not something I can deal with," I answered, "then I will
find someone who can help you with it."

"Like who?" Ricky asked, simply.

"A professional who deals with these sorts of things," I advised him,
hoping that would soothe his doubts.

"But I just don't like to talk about it," he finally responded.  "I don't
even like to think about it."

"I know it's probably going to be very hard to share this," I told him,
trying to be as sympathetic as I could, "but it might also help you to put
this behind you, so you won't have to deal with it again."

"Okay," he finally relented, "but I'd rather not do this."

"I understand, but this will just be between you and me," I confirmed,
"unless you agree to allow me tell anyone else.  Is that all right with
you?"  Ricky nodded his head, but only half-heartedly.

"My mom used to lock me in this small place in our house when I was bad or
she was having some guy over and didn't want to be bothered," he informed
me.  Hearing this caused my heart to suddenly sink into my stomach.  How
could a parent do that to their child?

"What kind of a place was this," I asked, for clarification.

"Just a place in the wall where the roof slanted down and mom sometimes
stored things," he replied.  "It was when I was about four or five and we
lived in an apartment on the third floor."

"You mean it was a crawl space in the wall?" I questioned him, not
believing my ears.

"I guess so," he confirmed, although I wasn't sure he truly understood what
I was saying.  I was nearly certain I was right in my assumption and things
began to make more sense.

"I was really scared when I had to stay in there," he continued.  "It was
kind of dark and the only light in there was what would come through the
cracks around the small door."

My heart was aching for him.  Now, I was positive I had been correct in my
assumption and things began to fall into place.  That crawl space would
have had been lined by numerous two-by-fours, which were supporting the
ceiling and walls, and seeing the beams supporting the tunnel probably
reminded Ricky of this fact, as his teenage brain interpreted the
information stored there as a four or five year-old's memories.

"Ricky, I believe that our ride into that tunnel reminded you of those
times and caused you to have a panic attack," I informed him.  "If you
want, I'll set up an appointment for you to talk to a professional about
this."

"I don't really want to do that," he responded, almost too quickly.

"I know it will be hard to have to tell another person about this," I
conceded, "but I think it will best if you do this."

"Dad, do I have to?" he complained.  "I think I'll be okay now, seeing I
know why that happened to me," he added.

"I still think you should do this," I stated, more firmly.

"If it happens again, then I will," he offered as a compromise, "but I feel
better already, just from telling you."  I decided to let it drop for now
and would bring it up again later, especially if anything else like this
were to happen again.

When we went back to the room, Ricky took his shower and then we went to
bed.  It was my turn to sleep with the mighty midgets and both Ricky and
Jay clung to me like condemned men clinging to life, before their
execution.  I would be willing to bet that was because Ricky was still
dealing with what happened earlier and Jay was sad about our time together
coming to an end, especially now that he was calling me Pop and we had
become so close.  I have to admit that I've grown as attached to Brandon
and Jay, as they have to me, and I don't intend to let that closeness
deteriorate.

It didn't take me long to fall contentedly asleep, especially between the
two cherubs with horns, who were nestled so tightly against me.  I had an
arm wrapped around each of them, and they had their heads on my upper
chest, with their arms draped across my upper torso.

In the morning, we stowed everything into the van, went out to breakfast,
and then began the long, lonely trip back home.  Up until lunchtime, Jay
and Ricky shared the front seat beside me, although I made them strap the
seat belt over both of them.  Danny and Brandon spent their time in the
back of the van, alone, but I don't think that was a problem.  From
time-to-time I would glance at them in the rear-view mirror and they were
either clinging to each other or seemed to be discussing something
important.  I could tell by their actions that this was also very
secretive.  I didn't disturb them or ask what it was about, but it did
spark my curiosity.

The only stop we made was for lunch and later that afternoon, we neared our
hometown.  All four boys had been in the back since we finished our noon
meal and Danny addressed me when we had just about reached the city limits.

"Dad, Brandon and Jay want to go to our house for a while first, and then
go to their homes after dinner.  Would that be all right?"

"I suppose it would be okay," I informed them, "since I didn't give their
parents a definite time for our return, but may I ask why?"

"We just want to spend a little more time together before they have to
leave," Danny explained.  I assumed this to be innocent enough, so I
agreed.  I drove to our place and the boys helped me carry everything
inside, but we left Jay and Brandon's luggage in the van.  Jay helped Ricky
take his things up to his room, while Brandon helped Danny carry his
belongings upstairs.  I carried my own things to my bedroom, but then Danny
and Brandon suddenly showed up behind me, acting a little nervous.

"I take it you have something more to discuss," I addressed them, trying to
break the ice.

"Yes," Brandon answered, "we have something we need to ask you.  We, Danny
and me, want to let you know that we love you and feel real close to you,
but we want to get even closer."  Brandon paused, so I prodded him a
little.

"Thank you.  That means a lot to me and I love you, too, but I haven't
heard a question yet."

"What Brandon is trying to say," Danny continued, "is that we both want to
do things with you too."  Danny paused, so I just stood looking at him, and
then Brandon.  I wasn't prepared for this.  "We want to know if you would
have sex with us, so we can show you just how much we both love you?"

I took some time to absorb what they had just asked me and quickly mulled
over the implications of their request.  "I appreciate the thought, but you
don't have to have sex with me, just to show me that you love me.  I know
you do, because you both show it in almost everything you say and do.
That's obvious, and I love all four of you boys and the closeness we've
shared, and that's more than enough for me.  There is absolutely no reason
that you should think you have to do more to try to prove it."

"Is it that you don't like the idea of having sex with another guy?"
Brandon wanted to know.

"No, that's not it at all," I admitted.  "I know that I've never told any
of you this before, but I have always been attracted to other males, even
though I've spent a lifetime trying to hide those feelings.  When I was
growing up, things were even more negative toward homosexuals than they are
now, so I felt I had to keep that fact hidden.  I never felt I could be
honest or let anyone else know how I truly felt.  That's probably the
biggest reason I wanted to make sure you boys didn't to have to live your
lives the same way I did, hiding your feelings from the world."

"You mean you're gay, Dad?" Danny blurted out.

"Possibly, Danny, but at the least bisexual.  I had a great marriage and
four wonderful children.  That wasn't a mistake and I don't regret one
minute of that life.  However, I've still felt an attraction toward other
males during that same period, but I believed it best to suppress those
urges and never allow myself to experience the other part of my sexual
orientation."

"Then you wouldn't mind having sex with us, Pop?" Brandon asked, very
directly.

"No, I wouldn't mind," I answered, honestly, "but I don't want you boys to
feel that you have to have sexual relations with me to show me that you
love me or for me to prove that I love you."

"We know we don't HAVE to have sex with you, Pop," Brandon countered, "it's
just that we WANT to."

"I'm not sure what kind of attraction you two could have for a pudgy,
balding, old man."  I quipped.

"We don't see you that way, Dad," Danny told me.  "We aren't just looking
at your body and how you look, we're looking at the real you -- your heart
and what's inside.  To us, you're the most beautiful person alive."

I almost started to cry after he finished his last statement and fought to
regain my composure, while seeking to address this issue.  "Let's think
about this some more, before we make any decision.  You are both fourteen,
and even though that's the current legal age of consent in Pennsylvania and
you can do what you wish, I still think we should explore this further
before making a final decision.  I want both of you to think about it some
more and then we can discuss this again next weekend.  Is that okay with
you?"  I hoped they would come to the same conclusion I had, that this
might not be such a good idea, thus taking me off the hook.  That way, I
wouldn't be the one to hurt their feelings, by turning them down.

Fortunately, they both agreed with my suggestion and then left my room.
Once I finished unpacking, I headed back downstairs.  When I reached the
bottom, I noticed the flashing light on my answering machine, which caused
me to wonder who had called and how long it had been since they had left
their message.


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