Date: Sat, 3 Apr 2004 16:37:30 EST
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: The Castaway Hotel-book7, chapter 9

Legal Notice:
The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts.
The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality.

Don't read this story if:
**You're not 18 or over,
**If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live,
**Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex.

The author retains copyright to this story.  Placing this story on a
website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's
permission is a violation of that copyright.  Legal action will be taken
against violators.

I wish to extend my thank you to Emoe57 for his editorial assistance with
this chapter, and Art, the real Vinnie and John for their additional input
on each chapter.

E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive'
comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.

                *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Although the boys in these stories have unprotected sex, I strongly urge
all of you out there to be smart and protect yourselves from various
sexually transmitted diseases by using condoms when having intercourse.

                *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

The Castaway Hotel-Book 7-by BW (Young-Friends).  Copyright 2003 by billwstories
Chapter 9 - Rocky roads.                          October 2003

It was the middle of the first full week of school when I received a call
from the State Police, so I figured it must have something to do with the
boys and the assault case.  However, as I began to speak with the person at
the other end, I soon learned this was not the case.

"Mr. Currie, this is Captain Brain Foster of the Minnesota State Police,"
he began, making me wonder what any of us could have done while we were in
Minnesota to get the State Police to call me at home.  "We understand you
were the ones who reported two very suspicious campers on an island in
northern Minnesota.  Is that true?"

I hesitated momentarily, before I responded, wondering what all this was
about.  "Yes, I did.  I gave that information to a forest ranger there.
Why, did something happen?"

"You might say that," he replied.  "After talking to those men, the rangers
kept them under surveillance and called us in for assistance.  While
talking to those men, they had noticed some weapons in one of the tents, so
they wanted armed assistance, as none of them carry weapons.  After
confronting them, arresting them on weapons charges, and running their
fingerprints, we were able to connect them to a series of unsolved crimes
in three states."

"Wow, I knew they gave me a creepy feeling," I exclaimed, "and my whole
family was worried that they might try to follow us, but it's always
interesting to learn they were actually wanted."

"More than wanted, Mr. Currie, law enforcement in three states had an
intensive manhunt on for them.  Those were the interstate killers we had
been looking for, for several months, and without your help we wouldn't
have caught them."

"Murderers?" I gasped, drawing the attention of Jake and some of the boys,
so they came over to listen in on what was going on.

"Yes, and they had committed multiple homicides.  They would kidnap their
victim, and this included both young males and females, and they'd sexually
assault them for a period of time, before they killed them and dumped their
bodies.  Most were dumped in rivers, ponds, or lakes along lonely back
roads, and the bodies wouldn't be discovered for a while.  In fact, there
might be other bodies still out there to be discovered."

"How were you able to tie them to the crimes?" I wondered, wanting to make
sure they had the right men.

"There were several factors, some of which have been reported to the press
and I can also divulge to you.  We recovered a roll of nylon rope at their
campsite, which precisely matched the chords used to tie the victims.
Also, we were able to match hairs found on undergarments of the victims to
one of the two men and we even lifted their fingerprints off of the
victims' belts and shoes.  The final, and probably most damning evidence
came when we found various victims' DNA in extra sleeping bags that the
pair had in their possession.  Those two are going away for a long time, at
the very least, and you have earned the reward that had been offered for
their capture.  Who do you want me to have them make the check out to and
where do you want it sent?"

I was dumbfounded by this news and it took me a few seconds to regain my
composure and respond.  "Mr. Currie, are you okay," the officer asked, when
I didn't answer him in a reasonable amount of time.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," I finally told him.  "It's just that we weren't
expecting anything like this."

"I understand, but various law enforcement groups and independent
organizations had set up a reward for information leading to their capture
and conviction, as there's no doubt you deserve it.  The murders began in
Illinois, and then spread through Wisconsin, before coming to Minnesota.
The two of them reached a plea agreement with the state prosecutor,
pleading guilty to three homicides and accepting three life sentences, to
be served consecutively, so they'll never see freedom again.  They were
willing to do that, if we agreed not to extradite them to Illinois, which
is the only one of the three states where the homicides took place that
still has the death penalty."

After discussing this with him a little more, I directed him to have the
check made out to The Castaway Foundation, as I felt the reward should be
used to help others who had been victimized by society.  This baffled the
Captain for a few minutes, until I explained the situation to him, and then
he told me the check would be in the mail within a week.  I thanked him,
though he also thanked my family and me in return, and after I hung up, I
explained to the others what all that was about.

The check arrived about twelve days later and I turned it over to Mark, who
made sure it was deposited with our other investment money.  That was
pretty much the extent of the excitement until September 12th, which was
when Andrew, my youngest, celebrated his thirteenth birthday.  I really
wanted to have a big party for him and invite all his friends, but he told
me he didn't want that.  I had a good idea why, but I honored his wishes by
having a very small party for him, with only family attending.  I figured
at least part of his reasoning for not wanting a party was that he still
felt his lack of physical maturity indicated he was a baby, and I think he
felt the idea of a large birthday party with friends invited would
reinforce that concept of himself.  Therefore, to keep from aggravating the
situation further, I shelved the idea for a large party, but we did plan a
special dinner for the occasion.  I invited the extended family to join us,
like we do for everyone's birthday, so he wouldn't feel we were treating
him any different.

Now that Mark's mother was living in the area, we included her as well, but
I didn't have the opportunity to spend that much time with her or our other
guests, as I had a young man who needed my attention more.  When everyone
began to arrive, Andrew raced off and hid in his room, avoiding his guests,
so I went to find him, to see if I could improve the situation any.

"Hey, little man," I said, after I opened the door to his room, "you've got
people looking for you.  They want to wish you a happy birthday."

"I'm no little man," he snapped back, not even looking at me.  "I'm the
baby of the family, and not just the youngest."

"Hey, that's not true, and you're the only one who thinks that way."  I
moved closer, to give him a hug, and he just pulled away.

"You don't have to hug the baby to make him feel better," he told me, his
bitter tone putting an edge on his comment.

"Andrew, you know I hug all my boys, even Mark.  Do you think any of them
are babies?"

"No, but they've got more than a baby size dick and they have hair over it
too!"

"And you think that's what it takes to become a man?"  I just stared at him
now, awaiting his response.

"It's not the only thing, but that's a start."

"So you don't think that someone who hasn't reached puberty can be a man?"
He now looked at me, trying to see if I was setting a trap for him.

"Not really, and I'm tired of the other guys in my class staring at me in
the locker room.  It's bad enough that I'm different because I'm uncut, but
still having a baby dick makes it worse."

"Okay, what if I set up an appointment with the doctor, to make sure
there's no medical reason for this?  Would that make you feel better?"

"It might help, but I won't feel better until I get some hair down there
and my dick starts to get bigger."  This time he did let me give him a hug.

"Well, that's the best I can do for now.  I'll call and make that
appointment for you tomorrow, but I want you to come down and try to have
some fun.  Okay?"  He nodded, but only slightly, and then I put my arm
around his shoulder and walked him downstairs.

Sammy immediately sensed there was a problem, and he came to me to ask what
was wrong, so I quickly explained what had jus transpired.  Sammy looked
upset that his brother's birthday was starting out so poorly, but I tried
to reassure him that I thought Andrew would snap out of it, and shortly we
went in to eat.

The meal went well, though Andrew was still brooding about being an
immature teen, but he was chatting with the others, though not as
enthusiastically as I would have hoped.  No one seemed to pick up on his
mood, other than his brother and me, so no one treated him any differently.
After we ate, we waited a little while before we had the cake and ice
cream, and then we gave Andrew his presents.

I had discretely suggested to everyone that they choose their gifts for
Andrew carefully this year, and I was pleased with the results.  The boys
had gone in together and purchased him a couple of DVD's, one gay, one bi,
and one straight sex, because no one knew for sure yet what his preference
was going to be.  They also bought him a couple of starter dildos, one a
little larger than the other, and a box of flavored condoms.  Of course,
they give those to him in private, after the extended family had left, but
Andrew was thrilled when he saw what was in the box, as it meant his
brothers didn't think of him as a little boy any more either.

The clothes the extended family bought him this year were all designer
labels and things that were really big with older teens, a fact that was
not missed by Andrew.  He even went and tried some of the items on,
modeling them for us, and he looked so good in them too.  The Shay's also
bought him a small diamond stud earring, with my prior approval of course,
which had special significance to him.  That was because I had been telling
Andrew I wanted to wait until he was a little older before he got any
piercings, so this was another sign to him that we considered he was
growing up.

When it came time to give him my gift, I had to take him outside, where he
found a dirt bike, with a big red bow on it, leaning up against a tree.  I
had Mark go out and move it there while Andrew was modeling his clothes, so
it would be there for the big moment.  Now, you might be wondering why I
chose that gift for him, and there is a very simple explanation for this.
Andrew had been teasing for a dirt bike for some time now, and again I told
him I'd let him know when I thought he was ready to handle that
responsibility, and I decided this was the ideal time to give my youngest
his wings, or in this case his wheels.  When he saw it, he started dancing
around, racing around the dirt bike like it was a maypole, and then he
jumped on it and asked me if he could start it up.  I told him he could,
instructed him on what to do, and then I guided him through a little test
spin on the lawn, before I let him take it out in the field, for a quick
ride on his own.  The glow that radiated from him, and the smile chiseled
on his face, let me know that the meaning of this gift was not lost on him.
After prying him from the seat, we went back inside until the others left,
and then I let him go back out for another ride.  Other than his slow
physical development, I think we'd had ended Andrew's fears that we all
still considered him a little boy.

A few days later, I got him in to see the doctor, who asked him all kinds
of questions about himself and what he knew about his biological family.
Once he finished making his notes and giving Andrew a very thorough
examination, and ordered blood tests, to check for thyroid, pituitary,
chromosomal, or other problems.  The doctor also ordered a 'bone age'
x-ray, to see if his bones were developing normally.  We had to go to the
hospital a couple of days after his physical to get these tests done.  We'd
have to wait a few more days for the results to come back.  I knew this
would be a tough wait for my little man, even though psychologically we had
healed some of his wounds at the party, but hopefully his physical concerns
would be behind us once we knew the results of those tests.

In the interim, that weekend we went out to help the Beckers begin
harvesting some of their crops and doing other chores around the farm.
This harvest would take us most of the month to complete, but the boys were
actually getting into seeing some of the fruits of their labor (please
excuse the pun).  In fact, many of the meals we ate at the farm during this
period consisted of items gathered from the Beckers' garden.  The boys
thought it was neat that they had actually helped to grow what was now
helping to fill those bottomless pits of theirs and it always seems more
satisfying when the food you ate was the result of your own effort.

There was much work to do while we were there and we came home Sunday
evening exhausted from the effort we put into Friday night, Saturday, and
Sunday, but it was a good type of exhaustion.  We all felt proud about what
we were doing.  The fact that we were helping the Beckers cope with the
problems they were currently dealing with made it even more rewarding.  It
may not have eliminated the Beckers' concerns, but I think it helped to
make it easier for them to get through the days, weeks, and months ahead.

While they were there, the boys also had their books and homework with
them, which they would work on after dark, when the work on the farm was
done for the day.  They were basically pretty good about keeping up with
their assignments, though sometimes they found it hard to concentrate that
late at night, due to their physical exhaustion.  I tried very hard to be
understanding about that too, but there were a couple of times when I had
to get after one of the boys to do what was expected of him.

A couple of days after we returned home from our weekend at the farm,
Andrew and I got a call to come to the doctor's office the next afternoon,
to discuss the results of the tests.  Andrew seemed more than a little
nervous about what we might find out, but I also think he was hopeful that
maybe something could be done to help him.  I tried not to let him get too
optimistic, as I didn't want him to sink into another depression if things
weren't as positive as he wished, so it was with more than a little
apprehension that I took him to see what the doctor had learned.  Even
though Andrew was convinced the family didn't consider him immature, he was
still encountering the looks and teasing at school, which seemed to have
undone some of the progress we made at his birthday party.  Therefore, I
was hoping for some positive feedback from the doctor, for my son's sake.

Shortly after our arrival, we were led back to an examining room, where we
waited for the doctor.  He came in, greeted us, and then looked at Andrew's
chart.  "Well, there doesn't appear to be anything physically wrong with
you," he began.  "All your tests came back normal, but it appears as if you
will have to wait a little longer before you begin puberty."

Andrew looked crushed by this announcement.  "Isn't there something you can
do to help me?" he pleaded.

"Not at this time," the doctor responded, "but if you haven't shown signs
of beginning puberty by the time you are fifteen, then we might try giving
you hormone shots to stimulate the process."

"But that's two years away!" Andrew exclaimed, wanting more immediate
relief.  "Why can't you do that now?"

"That's because I'd prefer your body started the process naturally and we
don't normally consider a boy as having delayed puberty until he's fourteen
or older.  Besides, giving you hormones prematurely can contribute to other
problems, problems far worse than having to wait a year or two to catch up
physically with your friends."  Andrew looked crestfallen, as he hoped that
today he'd receive an answer to his prayers.

"What kinds of problems are we talking about here doctor," I asked him.

"Let's just say that even though Andrew is now thirteen, his bones are much
younger in development.  There is nothing wrong with that, but until his
skeletal frame has reached the correct growth age for puberty to begin, we
won't artificially stimulate the process."

I'm not sure that answered my question, or Andrew's, but I wasn't sure what
else to do.  "Isn't there anything we can do to help him then?" I asked.

"I didn't say that," the doctor replied.  "I think it might help for you to
have him see a counselor, to discuss his reaction to the situation and talk
about how he's feeling.  I think his problems are more emotional and social
concerning this issue, rather than physical."

Even though we had tried to do some of that on our own, I considered what
the doctor said and realized it might not be such a bad idea.  I would
discuss this possibility with Andrew later, to get his take on it, and
maybe we could set something up for him in the near future, if he agreed to
it.  The ride home was long and quiet, but not as bad as it would be, until
Andrew finally began to some signs of physical maturity.  I guess I never
really considered how badly a late bloomer could be scarred, both
emotionally and psychologically, by developing slower than his peers.  I
think something might need to be done to make others aware of this problem,
so others don't have to endure the pain that Andrew was feeling now.

As the fall slipped by, we continued to help the Beckers with the harvest
and prepare for the winter ahead, but things weren't going as well as we
hoped for them, even with our help.  Mrs. Becker was slipping further
inside herself, as the Alzheimer's progressed, and it was getting to the
point where she hardly ever recognized us any more.  Painfully, that even
included her husband and son at times too.  It was very hard on both of
them when she would ask them who they were and what they were doing there,
especially for Richard (Little Ricky), as he was now forced to cope with
losing another parent.  I felt bad for him, but I also felt sorry for
Mr. Becker, who was not only losing his wife, but he was also having to
deal with all of the extra work which was now thrust upon him.  Keeping an
eye on her was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day, and
that, combined with doing her share of the chores, was taxing his physical
endurance.

In addition to these increasing problems, he now also feared for his wife's
safety, as she would do things that were extremely dangerous.  He now began
to consider putting her in a nursing home, where she could get 24-hour care
and supervision, because he couldn't watch her every second of the day.  I
knew that would be a major decision on his part, because if he went that
route, he would also be acknowledging that his wife would never get any
better, and that would be a bitter pill for him to swallow.  I think some
of the determining factors were recent 'events' in the kitchen; one where
she turned the propane on for the stove, but forgot to light it at that
time, and another where she started dinner, and then forgot and went to
bed, and everything burned, nearly setting the house on fire.  It was now
to the point that Mr. Becker would have to choose the lesser of two evils -
either keeping her home and facing a major accident or facing the fact that
his wife, for all intent and purposes was no longer there, and thus commit
her to long-term care.  I didn't envy him that decision.

In addition to helping the Beckers, I also had a more pressing issue to
deal with, as the four boys accused of assault would be going to trial
soon.  I had been working closely with our attorney, helping prepare the
boys' defense, and I had been calling those boys regularly, to keep them
informed and get needed information from them.  The last thing I had done
was to inform them that either Jake or I would pick them up the following
weekend, because jury selection was scheduled to begin the following
Monday.  I called Brandon's parents and gave them that information too, and
they said they'd schedule a flight for that weekend, and would book a room
for the week.  I told them not to do that, as the Spences had already told
me they could stay with them during the time they were here, and they
thanked me, after telling me they'd see us soon.  Now, I just had to call
the Spences and informed them as to when the O'Hara's would be arriving.

We were all nervous about the trial beginning, but we were also hopeful
that it would mean we would soon be able to put all this behind us and
things could go back to normal.  The boys were concerned about some
information our lawyer had shared with us, that if convicted, they would be
facing several years of prison time for the assault.  Up until this time,
they had thought 4-years of college was a long time, but that would be
nothing, compared to spending years locked up in a cell with some of the
most violent elements of society.  This was not something they wanted to
consider, but the had to admit it was a possibility they might be forced to
deal with later.  Even with my reassurances that we'd do everything in our
power to prevent that, we tried to put up a brave front and trust in the
system, though we knew that same system had failed others in the past.

The whole household was consumed by the upcoming trial, as the boys who
weren't involved were trying to do whatever they could to help their
brothers out.  They were also trying to convince me to let them be there
for the entire trial, not just on selected days.  I was standing firm on
this issue, as I was afraid the trial would take up too much time,
therefore causing them to miss weeks of school, and I felt one or two days
a week would be sufficient time for them to attend and show their support.
I'd make a schedule, rotating the individuals over the various days, but
the boys were nearly as adamant about being there the entire time.  They
pleaded with me, promising me they'd keep up with their school work and
make up anything they missed during that time, but I told them I'd keep
that in mind, but for now we'd stick to my initial plan.

That weekend Jake and I went to transport the boys home, with each picking
up two of the accused, and we collected whatever belongings they thought
they would need for an extended stay.  The lawyer said the trial could
possibly last two or three weeks, so they had to think ahead and bring
everything they thought they would need, as I didn't want to be wasting
time making additional trips back and forth.  We also arranged for them to
be able to pick up and submit their class assignments online, as I felt
this might help to distract them from dwelling on the worse case scenario.
If I made them do this, showing I was convinced they'd be returning to
classes after the trial, maybe they'd begin to believe it too, and not fret
over the possibility of incarceration.

The O'Hara's came by Saturday evening, after driving in from the airport.
They spent some time alone with Brandon after that, and I made sure
everyone else stayed away, even Danny.  He was upset about having to do
that, but I told him they needed some time alone, like he sometimes did
with Brandon, and this made him see things differently.  I told him they'd
ask him to join them when they were ready, but he'd have to wait patiently
until then.  It was an hour or so later when Brandon finally came out to
get him, and I could see the relief on his face as they went back to join
Brandon's parents.  The O'Hara's must have handled things appropriately, as
Danny was back to normal after that, so I turned my attention back to what
lay ahead.

Monday morning we showed up at court a half hour before we needed to, and
we spent some of that time talking to our lawyer.  We introduced him to the
O'Haras, and then he advised all of us about what we should expect during
the selection process.  Once we all understood, Mr. Gouldin went in to
prepare, and we waited to be called in.

I had agreed to allow all the boys to attend today, as I wanted to show
total family unity on this first day, so they were all there too.  I had
talked with all of their teachers first, and I was almost persuaded to
allow them to be there every day, as the faculty promised to make sure each
boy kept up with his assignment and agreed to notify me immediately if any
of them fell behind.  So we were all there, even though the boys were very
antsy and nervous, but we were fully committed to stand behind our falsely
accused kin.

When the time came, the boys and our lawyer took their seats at the defense
table, and the rest of us piled into the seats behind, and we waited for
the judge to enter.  When he did, we were all asked to rise, and when we
were once again seated, the prosecutor announced his first surprise.  "Your
honor, I move for a change of venue for this case, as I feel Mr. Currie and
his family are too well know and have too much influence in this community
for this case to be judged solely on its merits."

I did not recognize the prosecutor.  I'd been told all the lawyers in the
local D.A.'s office had recused themselves due to prior involvement with
either me, or my best friend, Judge Shay, who was godfather to some of the
boys.  Therefore, this prosecutor had been brought in from a nearby
community to try this case.  I heard he was very ambitious, very aggressive
and would miss no opportunity to make a name for himself or to keep his
conviction rate in tact.  During this time, the judge had been staring at
the acting D.A., sizing him up, before he responded.  "So you think
Mr. Currie and his sons have some power to sway the jury pool or other
means of influencing their decision?"

"Yes, your honor.  I believe that his position as Superintendent of Schools
will intimidate those jurors who have children in his charge."

"So you believe Mr. Currie will seek retribution, if the case goes against
his sons?"

"Possibly, your honor," he conceded.  He looked smug, but seemed to be
trying to keep from grinning or appearing too cocky just yet.

"Well, I don't agree with your analysis of the situation, and besides,
Mr. Currie is not on trial, his sons are.  I am also confident that there
will be enough potential jurors who do not have children attending school
at present, and even though some might be selected who do, I'm sure they
will be able to overcome such concerns and render a fair and impartial
verdict.  Motion denied."  The D.A. went to object, but the judge silence
him before he could.  "Let's move on, shall we?" he announced.

Crestfallen, the lawyer tried to pull the next rabbit out of his hat.  "In
that case, your honor, I move that you recuse yourself from this case."

"On what grounds?" the judge asked, somewhat perturbed.

"Based on your previous association with Mr. Currie, your honor," the
prosecutor announced, more timidly this time.

"First of all, I have no association with Mr. Currie, other than knowing
who he is and having spoken to him when my children attended the middle
school, when he was the principal there.  However, that was many years ago,
and although I respect him professionally, I would only consider him an
acquaintance, and not a friend.  I have also not worked with him in any
professional capacity or represented him in any way, and once again I must
reiterate that he is not on trial, his sons are.  Therefore, motion
denied."

"I want my objection to both issues noted for the record," the
D.A. protested.

"Granted," the judge replied, "but unless you have anything new to address
this court with now, let's get on with the jury selection and voir dire.
The DA said nothing more, so the clerk called out six numbers of
prospective jurors, and they stepped up to the jury box and took seats.
Nervously, they sat there, waiting to be questioned, to see if the
attorneys thought they were acceptable.

The judge looked at the jury candidates and began to address them.  "The
process we are going to go through now is called voir dire, which is an
Anglo-French term meaning 'to speak the truth.'  First, I will ask you some
general questions, to find out your general acceptability as potential
jurors, and then each attorney may or may not ask you more specific
questions, to see if they wish to challenge your being placed on the jury.
Do any of you have any questions before we begin?"  There were none, so the
judge continued.

"I will ask my questions aloud, but if you wish to answer in private, just
raise your hand and I will call you forward, so you can tell me in a way
the others won't hear your response.  To begin with, have any of you been
convicted of a crime before?"  No one responded, so he continued.

The judge followed up with questions such as, "Are any of you under
indictment for a crime at present?  Is anyone in your immediate family
under indictment or been convicted of a crime within the past ten years?
Have you, or anyone close to you, been the victim of stalking or an
assault?  Do any of you have any physical dysfunction or disease that you
think would prevent you from serving on a jury?  I will read over a list of
individuals and organizations that will be connected with this case, and if
you know or have any connection with those individuals or organizations
please raise your hand, and I shall question you further about that
association."  After those questions, the judge excused potential jurors
two and five, and then the prosecutor got to question those remaining.

"Juror number one, do you think you would be able to decide this case by
the letter of the law, and not be swayed by personal feelings about any of
the persons involved in this case?"

"I do."

"Juror number four, do you have any personal biases in support of
homosexuals, which might prevent you from rendering a decision based on the
law?"  This question shocked us, but gave us an indication that things were
going to get nasty, and the boys' sexual orientation would become an issue
in this case.  I think the O'Haras reacted more than the rest of us, but
they were cool about it, once they'd had a chance to consider it was going
to come out eventually.

After other questions, such as, "Do you think professionals or their
families are above committing violent crimes?  Just because a person or his
family is not as respected as another, do you think that immediately means
they are lying or not being totally honest?  Do you think there is any
justification for beating a person until he is permanently disabled?"  Once
his questioning was complete, the prosecutor challenged potential juror
number four 'for cause,' and that person was dismissed.

Now, our attorney stepped forward, and I knew he had added some questions
because of the prosecutor's obvious focus?  "Juror number six, do you have
any prejudices against gays, which would prevent you from finding them
innocent of a crime?"  The woman answered no, so our lawyer moved on.

"Juror number three, do you believe that just because a person is accused
and arrested for a crime that it means he is guilty?"  That person also
responded in the negative, so our attorney moved on to his other questions.

He followed up by asking, "Do you think that policemen and police
departments are infallible or above making mistakes?  Do you believe that
just because a victim or a witness can place a defendant near the scene of
a crime, the defendant automatically was involved in that crime?  Are you
capable of listening to contradicting accounts of the same events, weighing
the reliability and accuracy of those accounts, and then reaching a
conclusion based upon the laws pertaining to the case?"  When he had
finished his portion of the voir dire, our lawyer dismissed juror number
six, with a peremptory challenge, so only two of the first six jurors made
it through that round.

The process was repeated with another six potential jurors, this time with
only one making it through to the end, and then it was done all over again,
with another six candidates.  It took the rest of the day before the jury
was totally seated, and the judge even allowed the court to run late, so
the process could be completed, as he wished to start the trial the
following day.  As the lawyers both went back to prepare their opening
remarks, the boys, Jake and I went home, but once we got there, the
proverbial crap hit the fan.

"They're going to turn this into the gay and bi boys against the straight
boys, aren't they?" Danny screamed, almost as soon as we were all inside
the house.

"Yes, it appears that is at least part of the strategy the D.A. has in
mind," I advised him, not knowing how I could reassure them at this point.

"So, the prosecutor is going to try to use the jury's homophobic paranoia
to convict us?" Pat asked.  "Isn't that illegal or discriminatory in some
way?"

"I'm afraid not.  I think the D.A. has learned about the previous
altercation with David Hubbard and is planning to use that to establish
motive."

"But that was a long time ago!" Shannon protested.

"I know, but we did go out of our way to encourage that he and his friends
be suspended and then we set our sites on the Boy Scouts, trying to cut off
their funding for their discriminatoryy practices.  I'm afraid that will
weigh heavily against you."

"Damn," Brandon began, "isn't there something we can do to prove that
Hubbard started it and it's his prejudice and intolerance that created the
problem in the first place?"

"He wasn't in the court room today," I advised them, "but I hear the
assault damaged a vertebrae in his back, leaving him a paraplegic, so I'm
sure he'll look like the sympathetic victim when it all comes out."  I
could see the disappointment and outrage the boys were trying to contain
now, but I had to give them an honest evaluation of what they were up
against.

"Pop," Shannon pleaded, "what are we going to do to keep them from making
us look like a bunch of fags who jumped a poor, innocent straight guy?"
His expression told me that he was very upset about what was to come; to
the point where I was almost afraid he was going to break down in tears or
end up tearing the house apart in frustration.  Brandon's parents winced
when he said that, but didn't say anything, and then they went over to
reassure their son.

At that moment, Jake wrapped his arms around his son too, trying to comfort
him through physical contact, but I knew Shannon was going to need wisdom
and logic to allay his concerns.  I searched my mind to see if I could come
up with any tidbit of information that might assuage his fears, but I kept
coming up empty.  Wishing to do something to soften their worries, I
offered an alternative.

"Why don't we all think about this, and even sleep on it tonight, and maybe
we'll think of something to discuss with Mr. Gouldin in the morning?"  None
of them were satisfied with this response, but they did agree to put their
energy into trying to find a way to counter that argument, rather than
letting it consume them with anxiety and depression over what we all knew
was to come.

Dinner that night was very quiet, as no one was very talkative, and there
was even food left over at the end of the meal, something that seldom, if
ever, happens in our home.  After dinner the boys all disappeared to their
rooms, even the ones who weren't involved in this case directly, as nobody
was in the mood for idle chatter or any kind of entertainment.  Even the
O'Haras had been overtly silent, and I'm sure it was because none of us
knew what we could say to make things better.

After Brandon's parents went back to the Spences, Jake and I went to bed,
deeply concerned about the boys' mental well-being.  We spent many hours
discussing matters and trying to think of something that might tip the
scales of justice back to our side, but without success.  We were up until
the wee hours of the morning doing this, so we got very little sleep, but I
was still awake before the alarm went off, thinking about what the day
might bring.

                *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me
at 'BW's Rainbow Youth Connection,' at http://bwsryc.gayauthors.org/

You can also locate my stories by clicking on the Nifty author link and
scrolling down to "BW".  This will give you the links for everything I have
posted there.

I also love to hear from my readers and get their reaction to my stories.
If you don't mind, please share whatever information you feel comfortable
with, because it helps knowing my readers better when I decide what to
write or how to gear it.  Please email me at bwstories@aol.com and let me
know what you thought, so I can do even better in the future.  Thanks,
Bill.