*** Monday - 21st June 2004, 09:54 AM ***   Ryan was still lying in his bed and trying to get rid of the thoughts regarding his odd experience at the gymnastics club, which mixed with the memories about his dead brother and father as he looked at the family picture on his nightstand. Even though it was six months ago he was still somehow beset by doubts, if he had done the right thing to reject Gareth and not forgive him. But Ryan wanted to overcome this one part of his past now, because it produced more problems than it solved. Anyway, if he wasn’t able to straighten out his feelings, it was better to forget about it. Peter, better known as Dr. Clarke, had taught him that he had to forgive everybody and everything, before things could be left behind and before he’d be able to find freedom and peace. But Ryan wasn’t good at it - even though he tried very hard. This lesson was now exacting its toll. Still feeling a bit dizzy, the boy kicked the soft blanket away. He only wore his pair of sleeping boxers and was unconsciously stroking his tummy for the rumble to go away. It didn’t work, instead he got goose bumps, because now that the warm cover was gone, the morning’s chilliness came creeping in. So it was time to get up and see how he would feel after a hot chocolate - his favorite morning drink. He walked to the shutter remote control on the right side of his room window and was about to push the “Up” button to let some daylight in but he stopped and thought about changing his underwear first before raising the shade, so that nobody could see him naked from the outside - a bit overcautious. Ryan had never been very shy about his body, but the shower incident had led to a bit more prudence. Quickly grabbing a fresh pair of boxers, a grey shirt and blue jeans from his large white wardrobe next to the bookshelf, he changed and got dressed, longing for a walk to the sea, which usually helped him to sort out his thoughts, even though this kind of behavior might seem a bit strange for a boy his age. The shutters made their way up while Ryan wet his face and hair in the bathroom so that he wouldn’t look like a tramp anymore and thereafter walked downstairs quietly, feeling much more energy than at 7 o’clock. Five minutes later the microwave sounded with its deafening loud *BING* to let the chocolate chef know that the milk was hot. One and a half tablespoons of cocoa powder - not less, not more - he wanted in his mug so that it tasted sweet and creamy, or in one word YUMMY! The house was a bit cold today from a breezy night; you can expect wind when you live close to the sea. Within an hour the temperature easily could fall 50° F at night or the afternoons, even though their detached home was well insulated. It kept the cold as well as the warmth in for longer than usual, and the day had not yet had enough time to heat up the building. And the cold and large grey natural slate tiles in the kitchen did their bit as well, although they felt lovely underneath your feet with their rough surface. He took a gulp, enjoyed the heat that was slowly given off in his body and for the millionth time with a sigh read the slogan printed on the mug in rainbow colors: ‘Hot chocolate is like a HUG from the inside’. It had been Robbie’s mug - his little brother’s favorite one. Ryan’s brother used to refuse his hot drinks in the morning if they weren’t served in this very cup. And since his death, the only Harris boy left used it all the time - he even took special care that it wouldn’t land in the dishwasher.   *** ***   At half past 10, Ryan was on his way to the sea. He needed some fresh air and walked down Holywell Road to Dukes Drive until he reached “The Kiosk”, a small local breakfast cafe, where he would turn into the footpath called Foyle Way and follow it to the end. There it was - his private place of freedom and peace only 15 minutes away from home. Green grass lined the grey sandy beach for miles. Some large old trees here and there guarding the coast were the only company Ryan needed. Sitting down on a large irregular block of concrete only two meters in front of the coastal rock, the boy took a deep breath and felt the fresh, salty wind coming in from the sea. The mix of fish, seagulls and wet sand was in the air and reminded him about the last summer that all the family members had had together - a wonderful memory recorded by Sharon. Ryan had watched the video every time he returned to the US - with tears in his eyes. The dark clouds intermittently blocking the sun matched his mood, joyful anticipation of the summer ahead eclipsed by dark periods of anxiety about all that had happened and continued to happen. How could his life have been so happy and simple one moment, and spinning out of control the next? Looking at the 12-year-old, grown-ups would have said that he had far too many worries for his age and should be smiling and having fun all day instead. Not that Ryan didn’t long for this but he had so many things racing through his mind - he thought his head would explode. It physically wore him out. Thank God that the worst of the panic attacks seemed to be behind him now. There had been a time, over a year ago now, that it would literally freeze him in place. Just as they were making progress - Dr. Clarke was starting to help him sort things out - Gareth appeared on the scene. Just dropped clear out of the sky, right into his gymnastics class. Ryan had not been ready for him, had not been ready for puberty, truth be told. But his biological clock moved on relentlessly, sweeping him off his feet, leaving him treading water, struggling to keep his head above the surface. This was a lot for a young man to handle. He needed more help from someone he could talk to, in total openness and without the fear for snitching - he was unsure if Peter was the right one to talk to about this sensitive topic, but in the end it seemed to fade away and was not that important anymore. Ryan put his arms around his bent knees and began to think about what he could do or change for things to go away. The boy really wanted to find a solution for all his thoughts. He wanted to accept what had happened and forgive himself for what he had done - or better what he hadn’t. Ryan believed it was his fault that his father Brian and his brother Robert had been on American Airlines flight number 11 that crashed into the north tower of the WTC at 8:46 AM. They had been on their way from Boston to L.A. - a day trip to look for a new house. Ryan’s father had been offered a lucrative job there and they all had decided that it was only OK to move there if it meant a better life for all of them. Even though leaving all his friends behind would have been hard for Ryan, his parents had convinced him that it was for the better and that he would find new friends. Robbie had only been excited because it was going to be his first flight in business class. He hadn’t really understood what the move would have meant for him. And because Ryan had a good heart he let his brother take his place on the trip west. The deaths of his father and brother seemed so senseless that Ryan had convinced himself that he was the reason - at least partly. That he should have at least complained that it was unfair. Robbie shouldn’t have gotten a day off from school. He should have stayed home and if he had prevailed, his brother would have survived. But pressuring Ryan even more was the crushing sense that if he had resisted the entire move with everything he had, insisting that it would actually damage the family, they might have decided to stay in Portland and be together. But because Ryan had failed to act and just let things happen, he was convinced that the deaths of his father and brother rested solely on his shoulders and it was literally eating him alive. And if all that hadn’t been good enough, he could have told about the secret...a secret nobody knows...a really bad thing. Taking all these considerations into account, Ryan had zero doubt that he could have changed the future, but made the wrong decisions for the right reasons. Yet in his mind Ryan was the only reason he was alone with his mom. And those demons were hard to fight - he tried to, but the massive weight of those events were crushing his heart. It only took a while until all his frustration and sadness overwhelmed him as it had done so many times now, turning into a silent and lonely tear, slowly rolling down his left cheek. He wanted to cry....had been wanting to cry for so long, but wasn’t able to, since the funeral of his father and brother. It was all so bottled up inside of him that he was desperate - being close to giving up, constantly feeling strained from these spinning thoughts in his mind. How could one bear all this alone - at the age of twelve. Feeling so emotionally charged, like an explosive milliseconds before detonation, he set the energy free with a loud scream against the wind. A scream for help, a scream for happiness, a scream for being a worriless child. And with this scream more tears came rolling in....but were dried by the sea breeze shortly after... Ryan so much wanted to be normal and live a simple life, like all the others....   *** ***   An hour passed and the clouds slowly disappeared. Ryan was still sitting on his rock of freedom - his butt felt as if it had gone dead. The sun came back and balanced the coldness with warm rays that heated the dark blue jeans the boy wore. For whatever reason he felt better now - a bit more clarity of thought. The dark clouds in his head were also not as intense as they had been before which was why he wanted to visit this place. But now that the volume had faded, a very familiar feeling returned - he missed his father. He missed his voice, the fun they would have together, his laughing when he kidded his wife, the little soccer games they would play in the back yard or the TV sports they would watch together while Ryan rested his head on his stomach. His father used to grab him, throwing him into the pool - just for fun. And he would kiss his boys on their foreheads with his short cut full beard whenever he could get his hands on them. Ryan hadn’t liked all this kissing and the itching from his facial hair, but now he missed it so very much. “Hey Baby Bear” Susan said standing behind her son putting a hand on his right shoulder so that he wouldn’t freak out. Without a word, Ryan moved over and felt the warmth of his mother’s body against his own as she sat down close to her son. “You know that I don’t like it if you come here without your phone?” “I know....I couldn’t find it.” She turned her head, looked into her son’s eyes and with a smile held his iPhone out to Ryan “I found it in the car.” “Thanks, Mom.” “How do you feel?” “I’m okay.” Susan knew that once in a while her son would pass through the vail of tears and by saying he was okay, her boy meant that he was feeling bad. “I know honey....thinking of them?” It took a minute before Ryan would answer “Yes....I miss them.” “Me too, all the time.” “I wish they were here.” “Me too. I would give everything for it.” A moment of silence.... “It’s all my fault.” “Nooo, of course not, you know that!” “But what if I..” “Stop! Stop it Ryan - we have had this discussion before. You can’t blame yourself for decisions WE made. It was not about you and you didn’t decide anything. If those horrible people hadn’t done these terrible things.....” “BUT MOM listen, you don’t know that...” “NO RYAN! I don’t wanna hear it! I can’t take it anymore. You are not responsible for what happened and you wouldn’t have changed anything. Don’t you know that it’s tearing me apart to see you beat up by these thoughts all the time?” Susan said with an angry and equally caring expression on her face grabbing her son tightly with both arms “You are the only person I have left and I don’t want you wasting your childhood in this godforsaken misery. We shouldn’t live like that. YOU shouldn’t live like that. We can’t let this continue or those people will win even years after they terrorized our country.” Ryan felt sorry for his mother, sorry for being such a burden. Her tears were the biggest agony for him - he couldn’t bear it. And yet there they were again - the dark voices filling his mind. They wanted him to tell the truth - to lift the hidden secret for the boy to be relieved and forget about the mix of anger and sorrow. They all confusingly bubbled at the same time - the boy wasn’t able to control them anyhow. He pulled away from her arms, turned and shouted against the sea “SHUT UUUUUUUP!” until his lungs were empty but he was really screaming at his own thoughts, his own mind, the one filled with plain and shattering reflections. Ryan turned back to her - his forehead wrinkled - his face full of pain “I can’t handle it anymore, Mom! I don’t know what to do.” Susan grabbed her son and wrapped her arms around him, whispering “You don’t have to do anything - look how far you’ve come in the last year. You can be proud of yourself. You are wonderful...the best son a mother could wish for. I love you so much, that it hurts and I don’t want to see you unhappy anymore.” A couple of minutes passed as they sat there unmoving, simply embracing the moment as it was with their eyes closed. “My head hurts, Mom.” Susan moved apart from her son, wiping his tears away, a confident look on her face. “I know, don’t push too hard, Baby Bear. Leave it for the moment, okay?!” He nodded back and took her hand indicating that it was time to go home. She pulled the zipper of his jacket up a bit more, before they slowly wandered off accompanied by the wind and a satisfying crunching noise the stony path produced under their weight. Returning home, Ryan had a good hour of sleep on the couch, his head resting on his mother’s lap, as she caressed his back. He needed a break to recover from the exhausting thoughts on his mind. Sometimes it seemed as if he only needed to go to school, eat and sleep that there was not enough energy in his little body for even one more thing. ‘This will change one day’ was her only hope, while she dried her silent tears for the massive burden her son was carrying at such a young age. As her boy woke up, feeling better again, Susan prepared bacon and eggs and told Ryan about the contract she had gotten and that she would be writing three books for her new publisher. “Cool, I knew it! What will the first one be about?” “They left it to me” she said while they were eating the late breakfast meal “but it has to be a series. I guess I’ll write about a boy that has gone through a lot and is not yet ready to tell the world to ‘Fuck off!’” Ryan raised an eyebrow throwing a doubtful look at his mother. That ‘f’ word was a first. “Mom, do I have to go to Dr. Clarke today?” “Yes, honey, it’s only two more sessions before you go on vacation and you need it.” “I guess...” her son said with a deep sigh.   *** Three hours later ***   The door to the KindleKids Psychologists Center squeaked as Ryan pushed against it to let him and his mother in. It was time for one of the boy’s twice weekly appointments. “Hello Ryan, how are you doing today? Oh, and good afternoon Mrs. Harris,” Beatrice, the front desk lady asked in her rusty, but melodic voice. She had always been very kind and seemed to only have good days with her granny-looking perm hair. “Hi Mrs. Cadner, thanks I’m okay.” Ryan said waving at her. “You can go straight in. He’s waiting for you.” “Mrs. Cadner, may I have five minutes with Dr. Clarke upfront?” Susan asked, leaning in on her desk. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Beatrice, pointing towards his room. “Ryan, will you please wait here for a minute?” “Sure Mum.” “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” the old lady added, smiling. “I know Mrs. Cadner, thanks.” Susan approached the consulting room and with a careful knock slowly opened the door to see if it was okay for her to come in. It was a very comforting room, not too large, not too small; painted in wonderful warm colors. The windows were frosted, maintaining privacy while letting in lots of light. Everything seemed perfectly arranged and all the tiny memorabilia from the doctor’s travels all around the world created a friendly atmosphere. “Hello Mrs. Harris, what a surprise. I was expecting your son. Please, come in!” Ryan’s doc said rising from his chair to shake hands. “He’s outside...sorry, but I only need a minute.” “Sure, what can I do for you?” Ryan’s mother explained that she had noticed that for a couple of weeks now her son seemed to have had more trouble than usual and wanted to know if he had also noticed that. “No Mrs. Harris, I’m afraid I haven’t seen any new issues we should be concerned about. He has been a bit quiet during our last couple of sessions, that’s all.” “Do you think you could ask him, if there’s anything new?” “Hmmmm” Dr. Clark thought about it for a minute “I could try Mrs. Harris, but....I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” “Please, he is so sad and depressed these days. He again started feeling guilty for the death of my husband and....” “I understand, it’s got to hurt you to see him like that.” “It’s way more than that. He can’t last much longer like this. It’s killing him.” “But it takes time and we can’t push too hard on him.” “I only want him to be safe and feel free and...” “Mrs. Harris, do you trust your son?” “Yes, of course.” “Do you trust me?” “I do, sure.” “Do you remember what we discussed about the effect of pushing someone to reveal things he or she doesn’t want to talk about?” “Yes, I know, but...” “Post-traumatic stress disorder has so many different faces, so to speak, and we can’t work on each and all of them at the same time and I think you understand that. We have to be patient and wait for all these faces to show up one after the other and then take them on one at a time. I have managed to gain Ryan’s trust, but his trust is fragile. It’ll always be...and I cannot risk it promiscuously by pushing Ryan in any special direction. We might lose him.” “I know,” Susan said with a sigh. “Then why would you ask me for something like that? Look, I know I come across as demanding and I’m sorry about that, but I want you to understand how important it is that Ryan has the freedom to talk about whatever he wants AND whenever he wants to talk about it. I’ve known him for nearly two years now. He will open up when it’s time to, but you have to trust him. That’s very important - Ryan needs to learn that the world is not rushing in on him to squeeze all the dark thoughts out of his vulnerable mind” Susan listened carefully nodding now and then, while the Doc continued “it’s a difficult age with all new things to learn and the first implications of puberty rushing in on him. So you could even see it as a positive sign when these thoughts come up again - it could mean that he is ready to face the truth...that we have overcome the phase of denial. Ryan has always been moving back and forth between phase 1 and 4 - an unusual behavior that requires individual therapy.” “What does that mean - I know you explained it to me once, but I can’t remember about these phases.” “We talk about the five stages of grief and loss. Phase 1 is denial and isolation, 2 anger, 3 bargaining, 4 depression and finally 5 is the acceptance. We all want him to accept in the end, but he dictates the speed, so we have to be patient with him.” “I understand, Dr. Clarke. I’m only a worried mother.” “I know you are, but you don’t have to be. Your son is doing fine. I’m here for him AND of course for you. So please don’t worry. Trust your boy and be the tower of strength for him. This way you give him the needed confidence to come to you when he needs to.” “You’re right. I’m sorry that I took your time,” Susan said rising from the comfortable couch in front of his large brown leather armchair. “No need to be sorry! I’ll think about something. Would you be able to come to London for our last session on Thursday?” “Yes, no problem, why?” “I’ll call you and we’ll discuss the details, okay?” Okay, thanks.” “Perfect, will you please be so kind as to send your son in?” “Sure, have a good day Dr. Clarke!” “You too, Mrs. Harris!”   *** ***   “Hello Ryan, come in!” “Hello Doctor...Peter.” “Oh, Dr. Peter...that’s a new one - I have been called a lot of names, but never that one.” The 53-year-old full bearded psychologist said with a smile. He’d never allowed a patient to use his first name before but he and Ryan had grown together such that Peter decided this little breach of protocol wouldn’t harm their professional relationship. Susan’s son, whose middle ame was also Peter, sat down on the couch in front of what he had begung to mentally call his “shrink”, positioning both hands on his knees awaiting the weekly procedure of relaxation to start before any talking. “Shall we start Ryan?” “Yes!” “Okay, lie down and make yourself as comfortable as possible. Rest your hands on your abdomen and take a deep breath. You can feel the air pouring in through your nostrils.....slowly and constantly. Focus on my voice and your breath....in and out....you breathe into your tummy and you can feel it rising and falling with every breath you take....slowly and constantly.....” This went on for about ten minutes followed by a PMR - Progressive Muscle Relaxation - so that Ryan was free of any pressure or tension in his body. Peter’s deep and sonorous voice was soothing to the boy, who seemed to relax more and more after the PMR and while he focused on his own conscious breathing. He fell deeper and deeper into a near hypnotic state. Just before he would fall asleep and Ryan never understood how the Doc recognized this moment, he would be brought back to the here and now. Dr. Clarke spoke very slowly and with long pauses in between his instructions “Okay Ryan....slowly open your eyes, whenever it feels okay for you....you can take as long as you want to.....you stay where you are....you feel into your arms and legs, your head and your heart.....you can feel it pumping.....and you can feel your slow breath.....and when you think it’s the right time, you carefully sit up.” The boy had gotten so used to the relaxation and the wonderful effect it had on his body and mind that it had always been a very welcome change to his daily routine - sometimes he longed for it when he had too much stress like this very morning. “How do you feel?” “I feel good....a bit dizzy, though!” “That’s okay, you know that you may feel confused or even disoriented for some time. It’ll go away.” “I know.” Ryan said smiling. He had heard this so many times before he’d lost count. “Now, what do you want to talk about today?” “I don’t know...there’s so much on my mind at the moment.” “Can you give me an example?” “Not really. I really didn’t want to come today, because I feel so....tired.” “Did you play any sports?” “No, it’s from all this thinking. I’m so confused. Does it make sense if I say it’s too loud in my head.” “It actually does. Are there any specific things that are louder than others?” “I guess so...” “You want to talk about it?” “No, not today, please!” “Okay, no problem. Take your time. We can talk about something else if you want?” The boy looked out the windows thinking a moment before he asked “Do you discuss the things we talk about with my mum?” “No, in general not - only in case it’s something that may harm you or...in case you neglect a principle.” Peter said winking to his patient. “You have this doctor’s secret thing, right?” “Doctor-patient confidentiality, yes! Why do you ask?” “It’s because...how should I know what I can tell you if I don’t know what you’ll keep for yourself? Like now, you are writing something on your notepad....how do I know who you’ll share it with?” “That’s a very good question. Why is this so important for you?” “In case I want to tell you something I can’t tell anybody else. You know, like a friend I can talk to and who can help me through something...are we friends?” “Somehow Ryan....if you’d like to see us that way?!” “I’d want to...if that’s okay.” “Yes, it is...Look, here’s the deal” the Doc turned around and grabbed an amber from his desk. “Whenever you want to tell me something that you don’t want me to share with anybody else, you give me this amber. And while I have this amber from you, I’ll not write down anything or tell anybody about the things you said. When you have it back, I could.” Ryan held the amber high into the light from the window “It’s beautiful. What is it? There’s something inside of it.” “It’s a gnat which is encased in tree gum that has been drying for a long time - nobody knows from where exactly and how old it is, but I bought it from a Burmese in Myanmar...that’s in Asia.” “And I can have it?” “Yes you can, but you have the responsibility to look after it and give it back some day! To me it has a sentimental value.” “Okay, deal!” Ryan stated satisfied with this arrangement and still looking at the fantastic treasure he had just been given. “Good....do you want to give me the amber, so you can tell me whatever you like?” “No.” “No?” “No! I just wanted to know.” “Well, okay that’s....perfect. Our time is nearly up. Anything else I can do for you today?” “No thanks. I feel better.” “That’s good to know. Then we see each other on Thursday one last time before the summer break! You still have my phone number in case something happens?” “Yes.” “Wonderful, I usually don’t give it out, you know that already - but for you, I’m always there, even through the summer break.” Peter got up from his armchair, which usually was the sign for the patient to say good-bye. Ryan shook hands with the Doc and headed towards the door but just before he grabbed the handle, he turned around, walked back and with a second of restraint he hugged the old man for the very first time whispering “Thank you...”, turned around and left without any further word and before Peter could react to it. This was an important breakthrough for Dr. Clarke as well as for the young man, who now knew that he had a friend on his side with whom he could share secrets. This little step strengthened him a lot and instantly took away some of the fear.   *** ***   Back at home Harris Jr. kicked his sneakers away, hung his jacket in the wooden wardrobe in the hallway and went into the living room where his mother was talking on the phone. “Who is it?” he whispered being the nosey little boy she knew. “It’s Sharon....she’s home,” she whispered back, covering the microphone of the handset. “Can I talk to Jason?” “Please Ryan....yes Sharon, definitely....hold on a second....my son is driving me crazy” was her answer with a loving tone in her voice “What do you want?” “Can I talk to Jason afterwards? Please!” “Sharon, is Jason there....good. Yes when we’re finished, okay?” Ryan nodded and quickly went to the kitchen - he was starving again, like all kids do at this age only hours after the last meal - quickly grabbing a sandwich Susan had already prepared, knowing her little cub too well. The sun was still up, slowly fading behind the other houses. And even though it was nearly summer and the days were longer, only a little daylight shone in from the terrace. Susan had already lit a fire in the natural stone fireplace - one would say ‘Hey, it’s summer, why light the fire?’ but she liked the fire so very much, that she could have it on all the time. It produced such a wonderful warmth in the room next to the satisfying crackling, which only added to the lovely smell - perfect to snuggle up next to and be a creative author. Ryan sat down next to her and played with the remote controlling of the large flat screen mounted on the wall between a couple of towering ferns opposite the couch, his sorrows fortunately forgotten for the moment. “No, leave it off,” Susan said with a wagging finger as she continued her phone call “Yes, we’ll talk Friday - please don’t forget....No, I will send it to you, of course....Yes, that’s gate C4.” Ryan losing his patience, started poking his mom to get her to hand over the phone. “Here you little nagger!” “Thanks Mom....Jason...helloo? Hiii...yeah I’m okay and you?” Ryan’s heart jumped as he heard the melodic voice of his beloved cousin. It was turning into a good day, even if it had started out really shitty. Since the bad times in 2001 Jason had become one of the most important people in the boy’s life. They had gone through so many dark days together that, over time, they had formed a strong bond and had grown to love each other like brothers. First Jason, at the age of 8, lost his father on a tactical operations drill while he was serving his country - Ryan was 7 at that time - and then two years later 9/11 happened. These events had brought them together in so many ways. And now Ryan - who had a framed portrait of his dark-brown haired and brown-eyed cousin on his room desk - was feeling very happy knowning he’d be visiting them soon. They chattered about what they would be doing right after Ryan had arrived in Waterville on Saturday afternoon. There was so much fun planned and the weather was absolutely perfect for an early summer. Both couldn’t wait for Saturday to arrive and Ryan could once again forget the dark clouds of this day. “I really look forward to seeing you bro.....yeah we will.....me too.....see you then! Byyyeee!” Ryan was stunned - he didn’t expect to hear Jason’s voice today. It had deepened a bit and he didn’t sound like a little kid anymore - he sounded like a 13-year-old teenager. But it wasn’t only his voice, it wasn’t only the things he said, it wasn’t only the image in Ryan’s mind. It was everything about him. He was nice, friendly, caring, respectful, smart, full of love and life.... a bit cheeky sometimes, but he was the best person to be with in any kind of situation. Although he had his dark days, they were never as intense or lasted as long as Susan’s boy. And Sharon, Jason’s mother, she was like a second mother to Ryan. He trusted her and loved her nearly as much as his own. The only thing was, that tearing the boys apart after they had been together for longer than a day, produced the same pain as if you had separated Siamese twins.   *** ***   Ryan, still in a reverie from the wonderful surprise, felt good lying on the couch. His headache had finally been swept away completely and his mind was quiet for the moment as he watched the flames dancing in the fireplace, happy about the upcoming vacation yet knowing he’d will be missing his mother. Susan getting down on all fours, came creeping in and jumped on her son like a crazy cat, starting an unexpected tickle attack. Ryan, ticklish since he was a little baby boy, squeaked and screamed under her fast fingers moving around on his entire upper body...not to forget his feet. Susan had loved his screaming even more since they were alone and the worriless laughing of her son gave her a warm and joyful feeling. “NooOOOOo....MOOOM, please....ahhhhhh...HELP!” he laughed, begging for mercy for all he was worth. And right before he couldn’t breathe anymore from all the laughter, Susan stopped, still sitting on her boy’s lap, careful not crush him. His shirt had come up a bit and exposed his tummy. Being out of it for a moment she slowly shoved it up even farther. Not much was heard in the room but the crackling of the fire and their heavy breathing. Her long brunette hair was messy from the fun fight. She stroked through it too remove the wisps from her face and looked at her boy - his smooth and vulnerable skin - it felt so compelling....satisfying. Susan delightfully slid with her hand over his chest and abdomen that was rising and falling from the effort before - up and down. Ryan was looking into her eyes which were focusing on his nearly bare upper body...there wasn’t even a mite of fat on him....the chest muscles unusual for his age, but common for young gymnasts....the perfect shape....those little innocent nipples....his delicate face with those remarkable, beautifully drawn lips....his cute tiny nose with those few freckles on it. It was a fascinating moment that she enjoyed with a bit of excitement. For a couple of seconds Susan was tempted....she had been a lonely woman for more than two years now - had never seen any man since her husband died, not speaking of her unsatisfied sexual needs. She came closer to his belly button with her mouth....kissed it softly and... began to sniff. “Hmm, what is this? You smell like my boy...but I’m not sure....there is this strange scent....is it goat or camel?” both laughed at each other while Ryan freed himself from his mother. “Go baby bear and take a shower?!” “Okay Mom! Can we watch a movie together, afterwards?” answered the beauty of her life, slowly getting to his feet. “Sure! I love you.” she said patting his bottom before he headed upstairs. “Love you too.” It only took a minute before the boy entered the large and bright bathroom and opened the glassy shower cubicle that was equipped with one of those great shower heads from which the water sprinkled down like as it was raining. Ryan tossed his clothes into the laundry basket and stood in front of the wide mirror not wearing anything. He looked himself up and down, even though he couldn’t see his fit legs and his small feet. Ryan’s sturdy legs had always resembled those of a soccer player; compact and muscular they could carry him for miles without effort. Full of enthusiasm the boy had noticed the beginning of puberty in his groin - not that there was any hair down there, but he had gained a little bit of size - still it was the package of a twelve-year-old, but it wasn’t that tiny kid’s thing anymore, which made him proud. However, with this pride came the burden of puberty as well - sporting a boner in the most inconvenient situations. Only looking at it, having Jason’s voice in the back of his mind, produced a tingling feeling...and right before he thought of anything else, there it was - his rising teenage tool. But what had Jason to do with him becoming aroused? He was more like a brother, nothing else. Was it just puberty that made him mix up love and physical attraction, or was there more? However, it was time to do something about it so Ryan turned on the shower and stepped under the water. And as the hot water flowed over his innocent body, he closed his eyes, took his penis in his right hand and starting a slow and steady workout, sometimes being heated up by a quick image of Gareth’s nakedness that appeared in front of his inner eye - but he didn’t give a damn about it at that moment. As boys at this age usually don’t take long, the dry orgasm hit him in only two minutes sending waves of pleasure and mild spasms throughout his entire body. A wonderful way to end a stressful day!   End of Chapter 1