Kyle - Part 1 (#3)

Chapter 1

       I answered the phone on the second ring, and it was Gene Goodson, Kyle's dad. Rick was pouring over a seed catalogue, trying to decide what he wanted to plant that fall at home and at work.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hello, Kevin. This is Gene Goodson."
       "Oh, hey, Gene, how are you," I asked. Gene rarely called our house, and he only ever did it when he wanted to talk to Kyle. Kyle wasn't there then, though.
       "I'm fine, Kevin. I hope you and Rick are good."
       "We're great," I said. "I hope this ain't no Seminole-bashing call." Rick and I had gone to Florida State University, and Gene had gone to the University of Florida. The rivalry between those two schools on the football field was a kind of motif that ran through every encounter either of us had with Gene, and it spread the fun of college football throughout the whole year.
       "The Gators only bash the Noles once a year. You know that. But when we bash, we bash good," he said.
       We kept up the banter for a few more exchanges. Then Gene said,
       "Kevin, I actually called on a serious matter."
       I could tell by the change in his tone of voice that it was something important, and the only thing I could think of was Kyle. Kyle was his sixteen-year-old gay son whom my partner/husband Rick and I had "adopted" the previous January. Kyle and Tim, Kyle's boyfriend and the son of our next door neighbor, had spent an enormous amount of time in our home over the last nine months, and we even had a bedroom that was officially theirs.
       "Is it Kyle," I asked. I'm sure there was a touch of urgency in my voice, if not downright panic.
       "Oh, no. He's fine. Full of piss and vinegar, thanks to you guys," Gene said.
       "What is it, then," I asked.
       "It's something I want to discuss with you and Rick. I was wondering if it would be convenient for me to come over right now."
       "Sure, Gene," I said. "Come on over." Rick and I were in just our briefs. Our foster son, Justin, was with his boyfriend, Jason, and we had been looking forward to some private time together. Rick got the "Oh, God!" look on his face when he heard me say that to Gene.
       "I'll be there in five minutes," he said, "and you and Rick put on some clothes." He chuckled.
       I chuckled, too. "Okay. See you in five."
       "I take it he's coming over," Rick said with a sigh. "Is Kyle okay?"
       "Kyle's fine. I don't know what he wants, but whatever it is, he sounded pretty serious. We better at least put on shorts," I said.
       We put on shorts and tee shirts out of respect for our son's dad, and he got to our house from his house down the street in less than five minutes. Rick and I would have walked, but Gene drove.
       "Hey, how you doing," I asked when I opened the door.
       "Doing great," he said. He and I shook hands, and he did the same with Rick. We gestured for him to have a seat, and he sat in the leather chair Rick had given me for Christmas.
       "Would you like some coffee or a coke or something, Gene," Rick asked.
       "You don't happen to have any bourbon, do you?"
       "Yeah, I think we do. If Kyle and Tim didn't drink it up," Rick said.
       Gene and I both laughed. Rick came back with drinks for all three of us, but I knew his was just a stage prop.
       "What's going on," I asked. "You sounded pretty serious on the phone."
       "Well, here's the deal. Y'all know about my businesses, of course. I'm about to expand big time. I have been given an opportunity to buy Harbor Resort."
       Rick and I looked at each other. We both knew that place well, and each of us individually had entertained doing our student internships there a few years before. We had each chosen Surfside Resort, the place where we worked, because they paid interns better, but we both knew the Harbor was on a par with our place, or better.
       "You're going to buy the whole thing," Rick asked incredulously.
       "I hope so," Gene said. "I've been working on this deal for six months, and I've been spending most of my time lining up investors. I think I have it worked out."
       "Oh, man, that's great," Rick said.
       "It is, Rick, and you and Kevin have been raising my son for me in the mean time," Gene said.
       "It's been our pleasure," Rick said.
       "I know that, Rick, but Rita and I are eternally grateful to y'all for what you have done for Kyle. But anyway, I'm here to talk business with y'all."
       I didn't know what to think, and I knew Rick didn't either.
       "I've been able to keep things going in my other businesses, but it has just about killed me. The next six months are going to be crucial to this deal, and I need to devote full time to it without having to be worried about the hotels, motels, and gift shops I already own. I need people that I know I can count on to run those for me, and I'm turning to you guys for help."
       "We've both got friends we can recommend, Gene," I said.
       "I'm not interested in your friends, Kevin. I want the two of you."
       I felt like somebody had thrown a punch into my gut at that moment. I was weak.
       "What exactly did you have in mind, Gene," Rick asked.
       "I've basically got two different types of businesses, both of which cater to tourists. I've got the hotels and motels, and I've got the gift shops. What I want to propose is that each of you become an executive vice president of my corporation. Kevin, I'd like to see you over the hotel-motel part, and Rick, I want you over the retail outlets. I will be completely tied up, so you'll each have a totally free hand at running those parts of the business. The only thing I will insist upon is that you not sell any of my properties without clearing it with me first." He smiled at the irony of what he had just said.
       "Jesus Christ, Gene. We're only twenty-six years old," I said.
       "So what?"
       "Aren't we sort of young to be in charge of something that big," I asked.
       "You haven't been too young to turn my boy from a scared little kid with the self-esteem of a mouse or less into a confident, self-assured young man who would take on the devil himself, if necessary, to protect y'all and Tim and Justin."
       "Is this about Kyle," Rick asked.
       "He told me you would ask that question when I told him about what I was thinking. Rick, do I impress you as the kind of man who would turn over a multi-million-dollar-a-year business to two guys just because they happened to have been nice to my kid? Don't get me wrong, Rick. I love you and Kevin for what y'all have done for Kyle, but I'm here tonight as a businessman. I have checked and double checked you guys out from a professional standpoint, and I know you can do the job for me."
       "Gene, this is pretty overwhelming, man. This is absolutely the last thing we were expecting," I said.
       "I know, and I'm sorry to spring it on you like this, boys, but I didn't know how else to approach you."
       "Would it be ungracious to talk about compensation," Rick asked.
       "I'm surprised it's taken y'all this long to get to the bottom line, Rick, but it's kind of a credit to your character that it did take this long. I'm offering two hundred thousand dollars a year, plus about an eighty thousand benefits package."
       Our mouths dropped.
       "That's for each of you, of course."
       Nobody said anything for a long time.
       "Well, look, guys. Y'all think about it, okay? Rita and I are going to Charleston tomorrow for a family wedding, but I'd like to know something Monday. Today's Wednesday. Is that enough time for y'all?"
       "It's plenty of time," Rick said.
       "I'm sure you'll have a lot of questions, and I'm sorry I won't be here to answer them. You can talk to my assistant, though. She's been with me for ten years, and she knows the business about as well as I do. Her name is Amy Rogers. Just give her a call. And she'll know how to get in touch with me anytime. My wife and her sister have been planning this damn wedding for months, but it couldn't have come at a worse time for me."
       "Thanks, Gene," Rick said. I said thanks, too, and we showed Gene to the door.
       "Oh, one more thing," Gene said as he was almost out.
       "What's that," I asked.
       "Well, George Murphy and I have sort of gotten to be pretty good friends, and he told me he put it in his will that y'all would have custody of Tim if anything happened to him."
       "That's right," I said.
       "What would you say if I asked you the same thing about Kyle?"
       "You mean if something happens to George Murphy we get Kyle, too," Rick asked.
       Gene was tickled at Rick at that moment. He started to say something two or three times, and each time he just laughed some more.
       "I think you and Kyle were twins separated at birth. How do you put up with the two of them together, Kevin," he asked.
       "It's a struggle, but I manage. Gene, ordinarily we'd want to talk something like that over, but I know where he stands on the matter, and I know where I stand. We would be more than honored."
       "Thanks, fellas. I sort of knew you were going to say that," he said. "'Course Rita and I aren't looking to buy the farm anytime soon, that's for sure. She and I are only forty-three, and Kyle will be long grown up by the time we check out, I hope."
       "What about Clay," I asked.
       "Clay's eighteen already, so he's an adult. Adults can't have legal guardians, evidently. But if it comes to it, I hope you'll both look after him and love him, too," Gene said.
       "You know we will, buddy," Rick said.
       We all shook hands again, and Gene left.
       Rick and I were both numb. We sat down on the sofa close to one another, but neither one of us said anything. It was the offer of a lifetime, but we hadn't been prepared to receive it.
       Rick spoke first. "What do you think?"
       "I don't know what to think. That's a lot of money, for sure."
       "I know. That, like, quadruples our income. I wonder if it will quadruple our work loads," he said.
       "That's what I'm wondering," I said. "I wish there was somebody we could talk to about it. I'm thinking we both need to take the next couple of days off to pick Amy Rogers' brain, don't you?"
       "For sure," he said.
       The back door opened, and Tim and Kyle bounced in. They were both as excited as two monkeys with a stalk of bananas.
       "Did y'all say 'yes,'" Kyle asked.
       "Did you know about this, you little ape," Rick asked. Rick and Kyle had a sort of ESP thing between them, and they teased each other mercilessly, but in great fun.
       "Yup," Kyle said. "I wanted to tell y'all so bad, but he made me give my word, on my honor."
       "Well, you did the right thing, Kyle," I said, "but we're just a little bit numb right now."
       "I think y'all should do it," Kyle said.
       "We're a little worried about the changes it might mean in our lifestyle, bud," Rick said.
       "I asked him about that, Rick. I knew that would be the first thing y'all would want to know. He said it would basically be an eight to five job for both of you."
       "Yeah, in the off season, maybe, but what about during tourist season? Your dad worked 24/7 this past summer," I said.
       "Yeah, but that was because of the new thing, Kev. He never worked that hard before," Kyle said. "He's got good people working for him at all of the places. Some of them have been with him for, like, twenty years or something. They know what to do."
       "Do you know Amy Rogers," Rick asked.
       "Oh, yeah. Of course I do. She's the best," Kyle said.
       "We're going to go see her tomorrow," I said. "If we can do these jobs and still have time for each other and for you guys, we'll take it. Am I right, Babe?"
       "You took the words right out of my mouth, Babe," Rick said. "Do you know about the other thing, too," Rick asked Kyle.
       "No. What other thing," Kyle asked.
       "You dad asked us to be your guardian if something happens to him and your mother," I said.
       His face lit up, and both he and Tim broke into huge smiles. "Oh, man! That is too good," Kyle said.
       "Hey, buddy, it'll only happen if your mom and dad die," Rick said.
       "Oh, yeah," he said, somewhat saddened. "I don't want them to die."
       "Well, they aren't, Kyle, but that's the arrangement, if, God forbid, they do," I said.

       We spent the next two days with Amy Rogers at corporate headquarters. The offices were really nice, and it was pretty obvious she was in charge when Gene wasn't there. We went over the details of the organization, where the various properties were located, which ones were the most profitable, and who the key people were. We spent about four hours on the phone with Gene from Charleston, and he answered the questions that Amy couldn't answer. It appeared more and more that Kyle had been right about the time demands of the job. When we broached that subject with Gene, he pointed out that he had been running both parts of the business by himself for years and that he had had time for his family. Dividing it between us would make it that much less demanding.
       By Friday night we had all the information to make a decision. We had asked Justin and Jason to stay home that night so we could talk to them, and, of course, Tim and Kyle were there, too.
       "Guys, Rick and I are going to take the jobs Gene offered us," I told them. The arrangement of the room was classic: I was at my end of the sofa, Rick was at his end, and the four kids were lined up on the floor facing us.
       Kyle and Tim let out whoops when I said that, but Jus and Jay seemed like they were in the dark. It suddenly dawned on me that Justin didn't know what I was talking about. He had succeeded so well in creating a life for himself with Jason that he wasn't really around home all that much, and he had been left out of the loop on that thing. I explained what was going on, and he seemed pleased but a bit worried.
       "What's going to happen around here," Jus asked.
       "It'll be the same as always, buddy," Rick said. "If anything, Kev will have even more time for us because he won't have those damn night things to be at."
       "It'll be even better," Kyle said. "Y'all will be the bosses, and if you want to be off a day, or go in late so you can run, Rick, nobody will say anything to you. It's good to be the boss."
       "Well, we'll see about that," Rick said, "but this is a tremendous opportunity for both of us. We had always thought that we'd have to move to get any major promotions. Now we don't have to."
       "Damn! I'm so happy," Kyle said. He was obviously excited, and he wiggled around and kissed Tim.
       "Keep still, man," Tim said, planting an elbow firmly into Kyle's ribs.
       Kyle was laughing hard, and he jumped on Tim to tickle him and wrestle a little. Tim was laughing, too. Justin looked at his little brothers with a smile on his face, but he broke the mood right then.
       "Jay and I were thinking we'd like to go to a movie tonight. Is that all right," he asked.
       "Sure. Y'all go ahead," I said. "That was all we wanted to talk about."
       "We're going to shoot pool after the movie, and we're spending the night at Jason's," Justin said. Like Tim and Kyle, he and Jay moved back and forth between houses.
       "Okay, bud. Have fun," I said.
       They left for the movie, and, a few minutes later, Tim and Kyle went next door to Tim's house for the night.
       Rick got up and turned off the overhead lights. He picked up my lighter and lit three candles that were in a little arrangement on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Then he turned off the lamp that was on. I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it as much as he did.
       He kicked off his flip-flops and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he undid his shorts and pulled them and his underwear off at the same time. He stood in front of me in the soft light, and I admired his body. He had a sharp tan line where his Speedo blocked the sun when he ran every morning, and his thick legs and huge shoulders made him look bigger and more powerful than when he had clothes on.
       He sat next to me and started taking my clothes off. Piece by piece he revealed my body to himself, and I surrendered my clothes willingly, eager for his touch. We moved into our usual position on the sofa. My back was against the arm rest, and my torso and legs were spread out in front of me. He got between my legs and rested his back against my chest. I moved my legs up over his, and I wrapped my arms around him. It had been a long time since we had sat that way nude, and feeling him in my arms caused a sudden, almost overpowering, surge of emotion.
       "I love you so much," I said.
       "I love you that much more," he said.
       "Could it get any better," I asked.
       "I don't think so, unless we could figure out how to get you pregnant."
       "Very funny," I said, as I squeezed him tight.
       We sat quietly, just enjoying the feel of one another. I watched Rick's penis start to move a little. It was almost imperceptible at first, but then it started to stiffen and grow to full arousal. Mine was doing the same thing, and I adjusted my position slightly to let it fill the space between my stomach and Rick's back. We knew that eventually we'd move to our bed, but we were in no hurry. The luxury of enjoying the quiet and the feel of one another was enough. I watched a bead of pre-cum form on the end of Rick's penis, and then, with time and the pull of gravity, it dripped down onto him, leaving a tiny hair of the stuff connecting his penis with the puddle beneath it.
       From time to time Rick rubbed the inside of my thigh with the back of his hand. I rubbed his chest occasionally, and he moaned a bit when I flicked my thumb over a nipple. We stayed that way for a long time. After a while, he started to lose his erection, but he came back to full attention when I rubbed his nipples. I knew he loved for me to do that, so I started rubbing his hard little nubs. He knew what I was doing, and he began pressing back against me so that my penis got the stimulation it needed. I kept up my assault on his nipples, and pretty soon his penis quivered and released a large drop of semen. I had seen him do that many times before, and I knew that if I continued stimulating him he would have more of those mini-orgasms before he finally reached a shattering climax.
       I bent my head down and tongued his right ear.
       "Ohh," he said softly.
       I continued working the body of the man I loved. He began pressing back against me with a decided rhythm. I was getting closer and closer to climax. I worked his nipples again, and, again, his penis throbbed out a drop of cum. He moaned a bit.
       His pace against me quickened, and I got to the brink of orgasm before he stopped and rested. I felt my own wetness on his back, and that made my dick slide up and down against him more easily. We continued softly and gently torturing one another with pleasure until finally we couldn't hold back anymore. Rick tensed in my arms, and he shot a ribbon of cum all the way up to his chest. Four more spurts followed. He bucked involuntarily just before he shot, and I knew he had had a big one. I climaxed a few moments after he did.
       "Wow," I said. "I thought the head of your dick was going to fly off."
       "I know. That was so intense. I'm sort of weak."
       I reached down to the floor for my briefs, and I used them to clean him and me up. My left leg was going to sleep, so we adjusted our position a little, without getting up. We drifted off to sleep.
       The next thing I was aware of was the smell of cigarette smoke. I opened my eyes, and it was already daylight. Rick woke up then, too, and we looked over at Justin and Jason sitting on the floor in their underwear grinning at us. Both boys were smoking.
       "Hi, guys. What's going on," Justin asked playfully.
       "Hey," I said. "What are y'all doing here? I thought you were spending the night at Jason's house."
       "We were, but we changed our minds," Jus said. "Is that okay?"
       "Of course it is, Justin. This is your home. You can stay here anytime you want to," Rick said. "But what could we do about it if it wasn't okay?"
       Rick was hard with morning stiffness, but he didn't try to cover himself in front of the boys. He got up, still a bit disoriented, and walked to the bathroom. I got up, too, and went behind him.
       "That was pretty incredible last night," he said when I closed the bathroom door. He was sitting on the toilet hunched forward so he could aim into the bowl. I heard his piss splatter against the porcelain, and he slowly moved to an upright position as he softened.
       "It sure was," I said. "I guess we gave Jus and Jay a pretty good show this morning."
       "Yeah, but so what?"
       "I know. They're big boys. They can handle it," I said.
       We finished in the bathroom and put on fresh underwear before going back into the den. The boys had made coffee, and Rick and I joined them for a cup at the table.
       "Y'all looked really cute, both last night when we got home and this morning," Jus said.
       "Why didn't y'all wake us up," I asked.
       "What would have been the point of that," Jay asked. "Y'all looked like you were comfortable enough."
       "True," I said, "but...hell, I don't know."
       "You guys are awesome," Jason said. "I wonder if my mom and dad do stuff like that when I'm not around."
       "I don't know your mom, Jay, but I doubt she's got a hard-on when she wakes up," Rick said. Justin thought that was hilarious, but Jay only smiled.
       Rick decided to skip his long run that morning because it was already pretty hot. It was September, one of the hottest months of the year. We flipped on the TV set, and the regular program was interrupted by a weather report. It seemed a hurricane was headed our way.

Chapter 2

       Tim and Kyle came over in the early afternoon of that Saturday in September, all excited about the hurricane.
       "We're going to miss school because of the storm," Kyle said.
       "How many days," Tim asked. Like Rick and me, Kyle had grown up in hurricane country, and he knew what to expect and what would happen.
       "That depends on when and where it hits," he said. "When we had Hurricane Opal when I was little, we were off school for over a week. That one was a real bitch, though. Really bad storm surge, and it just about destroyed the beach. They had to renourish it for there even to be a beach in some places."
       "What do you do when there's a hurricane," Tim asked.
       "A lot of people evacuate," he said. "They open schools for shelters, but that's for shit. We always go up to Dothan. Our problem here is flooding, unless the winds are so bad they knock your house down."
       "Where is Dothan," Tim asked.
       "It's in God's country," Justin said. "Alabama."
       "They don't get hurricanes there," Tim asked.
       "Well, sure they do, Babe. It's just about 70 miles north of here. They zip right on up the highway," Kyle said.
       "You mean that figuratively, not literally, right, Babe," Tim asked.
       "Whoa! Jump back! Where the hell did you learn that," Kyle asked.
       "In school. Where did you think I learned it," Tim said. He was teasing Kyle, and it was fun to watch them.
       "Where do y'all stay in Dothan, Kyle," I asked.
       He named a hotel that was part of an international chain. His dad owned a franchise for one of those here in Emerald Beach.
       "Does your dad know somebody," Rick asked.
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said. "The guy's name is Mr. Buddy, and he and my dad are good friends. He always saves rooms for us. Do y'all want some rooms, too?"
       "What do you think, Babe," I asked.
       "Well, if Gene gets his family out of here, I say we get our family out of here, too," Rick replied.
       "What about me," Tim asked. "I don't want to be the only one still here."
       "That's your dad's decision, Tim, but you guys are welcome, too, I would think," I said.
       "Hell, I don't want his ass up there. I'm going to look for me a cute boy if we go to Dothan," Kyle said.
       Tim walloped him on his arm, and Kyle laughed hard.
       "Do you think I'd go anywhere and leave you behind," Kyle asked.
       "I know you wouldn't," Tim said, and he kissed Kyle on the cheek.
       "Well, I'm ready to get this thing organized," Rick said. "If this is anything like coastal south Florida, the roads will be so crowded it'll take ten hours to get to Dothan if we wait too long."
       I called George Murphy and told him what we were thinking. He had heard a hurricane was in the Gulf, but he hadn't been watching the weather on TV, so he didn't know how fast it was moving or that it was headed toward us. When we told him what was up, he said he and Tim were definitely in.
       "What does your family do, Jay," I asked.
       "We went to Crawford High School for Opal, but my daddy said he's never going back there," Jason said. "I reckon we'll just stay home and say our prayers."
       "Would your parents let you go with us," I asked.
       "Yes, sir, they probably would," he said.
       "Call and find out, so we'll know how many rooms we'll need," I said.
       He called, and it was fine with them if he went with us. I talked to his mom, and she thanked me, as Gene had done, for being such a good role model for Jay. I was a little embarrassed because I hadn't really spent that much time with him. Since he and Jus were older and both worked and had cars, they didn't hang around with us nearly as much as Tim and Kyle did.
       "So how many rooms are we going to need," I asked when I got off the phone. "Jus and Jay, Tim and Kyle, George, and Rick and Kevin. That's four rooms, right?"
       "Yeah, I think so," Rick said. "Five counting Gene and Rita, of course."
       "What about Mont and Terry, and Sam and Fred," I asked. "None of them is from here, or from the coast, even. I'll bet they don't know they might need to evacuate."
       "Call 'em," Rick said.
       I got Mont on the phone, and, just like George, he and Terry didn't know what was going on with the weather. It really wasn't a surprise because it was a beautiful sunshiny day and just as hot as ever. There was a pretty stiff breeze, though, and I knew that was a sign a storm was on its way. I told Mont we were making plans to evacuate to Dothan if we had to, and he said to put them down for two rooms. Mont evidently knew he could speak for his brother Fred.
       I called Gene and told him what had been going on at our house. I told him we needed six rooms for us and our friends, and he said that wouldn't be a problem.
       "If we go, and I'm hoping we don't have to," Gene said, "that will be a good chance for you and Rick to meet some of my friends in Dothan. You never can tell when we might just be acquiring a property or two up that way."
       "That sounds good," I said. "When will we decide about leaving?"
       "I prefer not to leave for anything less than a Category 4. I will leave for a Cat 3 if they're predicting a strong storm surge, like they did with that last big one we had. He's a Cat 3 now, but he'll pick up strength as he gets closer."
       "Yeah. It happens every time with that warmer shallow water closer to shore," I said.
       "It sounds like you've been through one or two of these things, Kevin," he said.
       "Naw. Just all my life, is all," I said.
       He laughed. "You rascal," he said. "Given what we know, I think we need to leave just as soon as they open the shelters. It's an hour's trip, but for Opal it took people 12 and 13 hours to get to Tallahassee from here, and that ain't but 100 miles."
       "Rick and I were in Tallahassee for Opal. We remember."
       "I didn't think of that, but y'all would have been. Well, y'all know, then. Damn, our lights just flickered," he said.
       "Yeah. Ours did, too. You'll take care of setting it up with them up there, right?"
       "Already did. I sent e-mail to my friend just as soon as you told me how many rooms y'all need, and I'm printing out the confirmation right now. It's all comp, by the way. Remember that we always comp him and his when they want to come to the beach."
       "Okay," I said. "What's his name?"
       "Buddy Oliver. He grew up here, and we've been friends for more years than I care to remember. Tell Kyle to get his ass home and get his shit ready to go, okay?"
       "Okay. Bye."
       "Kyle, go home and get your shit ready to go when we need to leave. Jay, you and Tim need to do the same thing. We'll leave from here. Jus, you pack up, too. We're going to all take our cars. At least we'll have those if it floods here. Jay, make sure your car is high and dry if you decide not to take it. Let's get moving, guys. We're not panicking, but we're not farting around, either," I said.
       Everybody went in different directions. Rick and I packed our clothes. We decided to lay out all of our hanging clothes in the trunk of my car. We packed our "hurricane box," which had all our important papers, in the trunk, too. We moved as much of our stuff as we could, like my grandmother's silver, the computer, the big TV from the den, the stereo and other electronic gear from the entertainment center, and things of that sort, to the attic. Fortunately, the attic was fully floored, so we had plenty of space to put things. Our house had been built post-Opal, so it had had to meet the rigid "hurricane proof" building code the state had imposed on new construction after that event. We were pretty sure it wouldn't blow away, but we lived across the street from a lagoon that emptied into the Gulf, so a flood was entirely possible.
       We got it all done by two that afternoon. Everybody was back at our house, and our driveway and the street in front of our house looked like a used car lot. George came over to wait and watch with us, and Mont, Ter, Sam, and Fred were there, too. There were eleven men in our house.
       "What do we do now," Tim asked.
       "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going surfing," Rick said. "That southeast wind is bringing in some of the most awesome waves we ever get here, and I ain't missing it. Surf's up! Anybody coming?"
       Rick had six or seven surfboards, and he was always willing to share. His preference was for a long board, and he had two of those, but he had medium boards and short boards, too. George said he'd pass and stay home with an eye on the news, but the rest of us at least wanted to go down to the beach to watch him surf.
       We went to the motel where the boys had worked that summer. The beach was pretty much deserted, but there were a couple of surfers in the water. The waves were bigger and more numerous than I had ever seen, and the noise from the surf was almost deafening. It was definitely not a time to hold a romantic conversation on the beach.
       "Can you hang ten," Kyle asked Rick
       "Fuckin' aye, dude," Rick replied. He rarely talked to the boys that way unless he was very angry or excited or wanted to really emphasize a point. The fact that he used "fuck" with Kyle that time meant he was really excited, or playing the role of "surfer dude."
       "What does that mean, exactly," Mont asked. "I've heard 'hang ten' all my life, but I thought it just meant 'surf.' It must be some kind of skill, from what y'all just said."
       "The 'ten' are your ten toes, Mont," Rick said. "I can get right up to the front of the board, when I'm lucky and the waves cooperate, and I can have all ten toes in the water as I ride a wave. It's not that big a deal, but a lot of guys can't do it. I got smacked in the back of the head by my board a bunch of times when I was learning how."
       We watched the water, and a huge wave came across and made a "pipe."
       When Rick saw that, he said, "I'll be back." He took off into the water. He paddled out to where the surf was breaking, and he got right into it. He took a wave, and the two other boys who were out there with him let him have it. He rode it great, and I could tell that all four of our boys were in awe of what he was doing.
       "I wish I could do that," Sam said.
       "Come on. Let's do it," Kyle said.
       "I've never been on a surfboard in my life, Kyle," Sam said.
       Kyle gave Sam a quick verbal lesson.
       "Where'd you learn that," I asked.
       "Every beach kid knows how to surf, Kev," he said.
       I should have known.
       Sam, Kyle, and Tim grabbed boards and went out there. When they got to where Rick was, he flipped the boys overboard, and the four of them played for a while in the surf. Rick made them spread out, and they appeared to be working out a signal system so they'd know who got which wave. They were coming in pretty fast, so none of them had to wait long.
       Kyle went first, and he rode his wave all the way in. We applauded his performance from our position on the beach. Tim was next, and he did pretty well. He tried to hang ten, though, and the surfboard smacked him in the back of his head. We all held our breath until he popped up above the waves. He shot his surfboard a bird, and we all laughed. Sam was next, but he didn't last on the wave for more than fifteen seconds. Fred got a little worried when he went under, but he grinned when Sam popped up.
       Rick took the next wave, and it was a doozy. It was huge, and it turned into a pipe. We all more or less held our breaths while he was out of sight, but he rode through it, hanging ten. We all jumped to our feet when we saw him emerge, clapping our hands off.
       They kept at that for well over two hours. The wind was picking up, and our four surfers dragged asses and boards onto the beach.
       "You guys were so good," Rick screamed to be heard above the surf. "I can't believe it."
       Tim and Kyle sought Rick's approval above everything, and they were grinning so hard when he said that I thought their teeth would pop out. Sam, their assistant scoutmaster, was grinning, too.
       "We saw you hang ten on that pipe, Rick. That was awesome," Jason said.
       "Did you see ole Timmy get smacked when he tried it," Rick asked.
       Tim blushed.
       "Why are you blushing? Did you see these other pussies even try to hang ten," he asked.
       Tim grinned. It wasn't approval for a job well done, but it was definitely approval, and he loved it.
       We left the beach then and went back home. George had been watching the Weather Channel, which had already dispatched people to our area to cover the storm, and it didn't look good. They were predicting landfall on our beach at noon the next day.
       The local school superintendent and the Director of Emergency Management came on next. They announced that the shelters would open at 5:00 PM. It was then 3:15. The phone rang seconds later, and it was Gene.
       "It's time to move out," was all he said before he hung up.
       The guys who had been in the water took very quick showers together, and they were ready to go in less than ten minutes. We already had the cars packed, so we were ready to go.
       "I'll turn off the main breaker," Rick said.
       "Why? The stuff in the freezer will go bad if we're gone for a few days," I said.
       "Come on, New Orleans. You know why. Think," he said.
       "Oh, yeah," I said, after I thought about it. "Power surge."
       "Exactly. Come on, man, now. Remember your shit from when you were a kid," he said. "If you leave the power on, your house can very easily burn to the ground from the power surge when they turn it back on. You know that."
       "I'm going to give your ass a power surge, if you ain't careful," I said. Then, when he had finished laughing at what I had said, "Yeah, I just forgot."
       "We didn't know to do that," I heard Mont say to Terry.
       "I knew," Terry said. "We have hurricanes in South Carolina, too, you know."
       Mont just grinned at his buddy, and it reinforced what I already knew: he and Terry were just like Rick and me.
       The road to Dothan was crowded, but it wasn't yet bumper-to-bumper as we had feared it would become. Everybody who owned a car, and that was most of us, drove it. Tim rode with Kyle, and Jay rode with Jus, but every other car was owner-occupied on that trip. I listened to the radio for news, but there wasn't really any. I found the PBS station, eventually, and they had a news report from the Emergency Management Center.
       "This is going to be a bad one, by all reports," the news caster said.
       "No question about it. It's still a Cat 3, but it's fixing to become a Cat 4, and some forecasters are even predicting a Cat 5. We ain't had a Cat 5 here in recent memory, and, if that rascal gets up to a Cat 5, we'll see some incredible damage."
       "Hasn't the state issued new building codes to make buildings hurricane safe?"
       "Yeah, but that's just the new stuff built since Opal. That was just a few years ago. A lot of the older houses and buildings on the beach are vulnerable. The people need to heed the warnings and evacuate, especially from the beach or if you are within two blocks of water anywhere in the county."
       I wondered if Rick and the others were listening to that station. I had no idea what a Category 5 hurricane would do to our home or to the businesses Rick and I had just agreed to run, and I prayed fervently that we would be spared.
       The traffic was already heavy, and the first band of heavy rain pelted our cars. I momentarily considered pulling over because visibility was so poor. Several cars had done that. I reached the top of a small hill, and I saw what looked like Kyle's car pull over. I guess I'd better do the same, I thought, and I pulled off the road right behind his.
       Their car had barely stopped when the two of them jumped out. It was raining so hard they were soaked in seconds. There was a small bridge about ten feet in front of Kyle's car, and he and Tim ran over to it. Kyle kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and then wiggled out of his shorts.
       Oh, my God, I thought. What the hell is he doing?
       I couldn't see Tim's face, but he was moving around as though he were very excited. He went with Kyle to the rail on the bridge. Kyle stood up on it and jumped in feet first. Even though I knew I'd get wet to the skin, I couldn't stay in my car a second longer.
       "What the hell's going on, Tim," I shouted. The wind was blowing hard, and the drops of rain felt like tiny needles as they hit my skin.
       "A car went off the road and into this creek," Tim said. He didn't look at me. His eyes were focused on the water where Kyle was. Just then Kyle's head popped out of the water, but he went back under. "He's trying to get the driver out," he said.
       "Is his phone in the car," I asked.
       "Yeah," he shouted back, barely able to make himself heard over the noise of the wind and rain.
       I went to Kyle's car and called 9-1-1, but the line was busy. It was all I could do to keep from hurling the phone into the street. Then I dialed *FHP to call the Florida Highway Patrol. That was their statewide emergency number, and it was busy, too. I tried 9-1-1 again, and I heard the busy signal again.
       "Goddamn it," I said aloud.
       In another thirty seconds, a Highway Patrol car passed me. He was, like everyone else, going very slowly because the driving conditions were so bad. I leaned on the horn of Kyle's car for all I was worth, and the patrol car pulled over in front of Kyle's car. I ran to it.
       "Officer, a car went off the road into the creek," I said. I was excited, scared, and just a bit winded from running to the car.
       "Is anybody still in the car," he asked.
       "I assume the driver is. My brother is in the water trying to get them out," I said.
       "Can he swim," he asked.
       My frustration had been growing, but it peaked just about then.
       "Sir, I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job, but do you think you could go see if he needs help?"
       The guy looked at me like I had asked him to drive me to Dothan. Then, slowly and with as much passive aggression as he could muster, he got out of the car. He was wearing a rain slicker and rain boots. He pulled the rain hat down in the back to protect his neck, which I was almost positive was bright red, and walked over toward the bridge.
       Kyle was towing a woman through the water. She was conscious and screaming and crying. Tim flopped down on the bridge to take her arms when Kyle started to lift her.
       "Kevin, help me," Tim said.
       I flopped down beside him, and we each took one of her arms. With Kyle pushing and us pulling, we were able to get her up enough so that she could grab on to the rail of the bridge. She pulled herself up the rest of the way.
       The lady was young, probably late teens or early twenties, and she was hysterical. I couldn't understand what she was saying, but Tim did.
       "Kyle, get her baby," he screamed to his boyfriend.
       Kyle did a flip and went under again. In a matter of second, that seemed like hours, he was back on the surface with a little kid in his arms. The baby looked like it was about a year old. He handed the baby up to Tim. The mother tried to grab the baby away from him, but Tim screamed to me, "Kevin, stop her."
       Tim ran over to Kyle's car with the baby, set it down on the back seat, and immediately began giving it mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, alternating with CPR. The cop had gone back to his car. I hope that son of a bitch is calling an ambulance, I thought.
       Kyle pulled himself up on to the bridge, and he trotted over to his car.
       "Move over," he said to Tim, and he did CPR while Tim continued mouth-to-mouth. They were both hunched over the baby, and I couldn't really see it. In a second, though, I heard Tim coughing. Moments later, the baby was crying, and the boys had stopped what they were doing.
       The mother had been struggling in my arms trying to get away from me. She let out an ear-piercing scream when the baby cried.
       "They're hurting my baby," she bellowed. "I'll kill them for hurting my baby."
       "Lady, they just saved the baby's life," the cop said. "And they saved your life, too. Would you pipe down please, ma'am."
       She shut up completely when he said that. Oh, the power of a uniform, I thought. An ambulance pulled up, and two EMT's got out. One, a young woman, looked after the baby's mother, and the other one, a young man, looked after the baby. They took both, mother and child, into the ambulance. They must have been examining both of them because they didn't leave the scene. In a minute, the man came back out.
       "They're going to be fine. We're monitoring the baby's pulse and blood pressure, and we have him on oxygen. The mom is pretty crazy right now. We're going to take them into the hospital."
       His remarks were addressed to the policeman, but we all heard what he said.
       "These boys saved both of them," the cop said. "This one went into the water and brought them up, and this one did CPR and mouth-to-mouth."
       "He did CPR, too," Tim said, meaning Kyle.
       Everybody focused their attention on Kyle for the first time, and he was quite a sight. The rain had more or less stopped, but he was still wringing wet, of course. He had on a pair of small white briefs that weren't exactly bikinis but weren't regular-cut briefs, either. The cotton cloth was thin and transparent, and there was no doubt he was male.
       "Why did you take your clothes off," I asked, a little embarrassed at the way he looked standing there on the side of the road.
       "He did the right thing, sir. Having clothes on would have slowed him down, and they could have gotten caught on something," the EMT said.
       "That's what they teach us to do, Kev," he said, and Tim confirmed it.
       "Where'd you boys learn what you did," the EMT asked.
       "Scouts," they said in unison.
       "They're both Eagle Scouts," I said in my proud big brother voice.
       "Is that so? What are your names, boys," the officer asked. He took out a pad and pen to take notes.
       They told him their names, addresses, phone numbers, and ages.
       "You related to Gene Goodson," he asked Kyle.
       "Yes, sir. He's my dad."
       "You tell your dad J. R. Watkins said hello. That's me. We went to school together."
       "Yes, sir, I will," Kyle said.
       "You boys did a very brave and courageous thing today, and you saved two lives because of it. The governor has a special program to honor acts of heroism that kids do, and I'd bet money y'all are fixing to get an invitation to Tallahassee pretty soon."
       Tim and Kyle broke into huge grins when he said that.
       The lady EMT stuck her head out the back of the ambulance to tell the guy they were ready to go. He shook hands with the boys and me, and he wished us a safe hurricane. I smiled at the irony of that.
       "I need to follow them to the hospital," the patrolman said. "Are y'all headed out," he asked.
       "Yes, sir. We're evacuating to Dothan," Kyle said.
       The cop thought for a second, and then he said, "Let me see what I can do for y'all."
       He went back to his car, and we saw him use his radio. In a minute he was back with us.
       "The traffic's starting to get bad, so I made arrangements for y'all to have a police escort to the state line. Maybe that'll help some. You boys look good together. Take care of each other, you hear." Then he winked at them.
       He shook hands with them and with me, and then he and the ambulance left.
       "Y'all get some dry clothes on," I said.
       They moved quickly to gather up Kyle's discarded clothes and to get dry ones out of the trunk. They both put on jeans, which was rather unusual for them in the summer, and a polo shirt. Kyle's shoes were wet, so he put on sandals. I changed into dry clothes, too.
       They were beside themselves with excitement, and they were as cute as I had ever seen them.
       "Did you see him wink at us," Kyle asked.
       "Do you think he knew," Tim said.
       I started laughing at them with delight.
       "He said for us to take care of each other," Tim said.
       "And that we look good together," Kyle chimed in.
       "Would it matter if he knew you were gay," I asked.
       "Yeah," they both said at once.
       "I can see the headline now," Kyle said. "Queer Eagle Scouts Get Award for Bravery; Troop Kicks Them Out for Using Scout Skills to Save Two Lives."
       "It wouldn't say that in the paper," Tim said. "It's too long."
       Kyle rolled his eyes, and I couldn't control myself. Even Tim laughed when he realized what he had said.
       "Let's get in the car now, blondie," Kyle said. Tim punched him, and Kyle laughed and ruffled his hair.
       Two patrolmen on motorcycles drove up and gave us instructions to follow them. It was great moving through the traffic like VIP's. Having them with us let us go much faster than we would have otherwise been able to, and they saluted us and waved goodbye at the Alabama line.
       We got to Dothan and found our hotel on the Ross Clark Circle, a highway that went around the city. It was a very nice place, and Gene introduced us to Buddy Oliver right away. Gene made it very clear that we were Executive Vice Presidents of his company, and Buddy made it very clear to his General Manager that we were his personal guests at that hotel. Not only were we comped, we were comped VIP.   The fact was, Rick and I would have been willing to pay $150 a night or much more to save us and our boys and our friends from being killed in a hurricane, but we didn't have to. In fact, we were going to be treated like visiting royalty.
       "Gene, we need to get you and Rita and everybody else together in one place so y'all can all hear what happened to us on the way up here," I said.
       "What is it, Kevin," Gene asked. Rick didn't say anything, but he was dying to know what I was talking about.
       "The boys are heroes, Gene. They saved a woman and a baby from drowning. But let's let them tell it."
       "Well, I've got to hear this," he said. "Y'all come to our room. We've got a suite."
       We followed Gene. We said hello to Rita when we got there. We had been in her company several times, but we didn't really know her well. We called the rest of our crew and told them to come to the Goodsons' suite.
       There weren't enough chairs for thirteen people, so the kids and Rick and I sat on the floor. Rita and Gene dispensed the refreshments they had on hand, and Gene called room service for a couple of platters of hors d'oeuvres.
       "Tell us what happened," Gene said.
       Kyle took a deep breath and let it out noisily. "Okay," he grinned.
       "We were driving up the highway, and it started to rain real hard. I could barely see to drive, so I slowed way down. I was in the left lane, and a car passed us in the right lane going pretty fast. There was a big puddle of water on the bridge over a creek, and the car hit the water and lost control. It busted through the bridge railing and went into the water."
       "I saw it, too," Tim said. "I told him to pull over, but he was already doing it. We pulled over and jumped out. Kyle ran to the railing and took his shoes and clothes off. Then he jumped in."
       "You took your clothes off right there on the highway, Kyle," Rita Goodson asked, slightly horrified.
       "Yes, ma'am," Kyle said. "That's what they tell us to do."
       Rita started to object, but Sam cut her off.
       "Kyle did exactly what we teach them to do, Rita. In a situation like that, it's way too easy for clothes to get caught on something and for the rescuer to get hung up on something."
       "Well, if you say so, Sam, but..."
       Gene laughed at his wife's prudery. "Keep on, son," he said.
       "I jumped in and couldn't find the car at first. It was a dark maroon color, and it was dark under the water. I had to come up for air. I went back down, and I found it. I opened the driver-side door, and the whole car filled up with water when I did that. The lady wasn't wearing her seatbelt so I just pulled her out and carried her up."
       "He gave her to me and Kevin," Tim said. "We pulled her up while he pushed from below."
       "Was it hard getting the car door open," Rick asked.
       "Yeah. It was. I just realized that," Kyle said.
       "You were fighting the pressure of the water," Sam said.
       "I guess so. Anyway, we got the lady out, and I was about to get out, too. Then Tim said..."
       Tim jumped back in. "I heard her say something about her baby, so I told Kyle to go back after it. Him, I guess it was."
       "I went back in, but I couldn't see shit."
       "Kyle!" his mother said.
       Gene said, "Keep on son. You couldn't see shit, and..."
       Everybody, including Rita, laughed when he said that.
       "I couldn't see nothing. I felt around for the baby on the front seat, but it wasn't there. Then I opened the back door, and there it was. It was in a car seat, and it was all wrapped up in a seatbelt. I had to feel how to get it out of there. I did, though, and then I swam it up."
       "He handed it to me, and I felt for a pulse first thing," Tim said. "I rushed over to Kyle's car and got into the back seat. I started mouth-to-mouth and CPR, but it wasn't responding. Then Kyle came over. He took over the CPR part. Pretty soon the baby puked into my mouth, but that was good. Then it started crying. We stopped what we were doing 'cause we knew it was alive."
       "I heard you cough, but I didn't know it puked in your mouth," Kyle said. "That's gross."
       "I know," Tim said, matter-of-factly, like it happened every day.
       "Then the ambulance came, and they took over with the lady and the baby," Kyle said.
       "The policeman took our names and all, and he said we might be getting an award from the governor," Tim said.
       "Oh, yeah, Daddy. He said he knows you," Kyle said.
       "What was his name," Gene asked.
       "J. R. something," Kyle said.
       "J. R. Watkins," Gene asked.
       "Yeah, that was it, Gene," I said.
       "Oh, hell. I've known J. R. all my life. Good, good guy. A little on the lazy side, but a hell of a nice fella," Gene said.
       "He seemed real nice," Kyle said. "He even got us a police escort to the state line. That's why we weren't late."
       "Yeah, that sounds like something ole J. R. would do. He's like you and Tim, Kyle." Then, looking around the room, "Like all you guys, except you, George."
       "You mean he's gay," Kyle asked in disbelief.
       "Queer as a three-dollar bill," Gene said.
       "He's queer, and you still like him, Daddy," Kyle asked.
       I started to say something to Kyle when he said that, but Rick put his hand on my arm to tell me to be quiet.
       "Hell, yes. He's my friend. Listen Mister, you ain't too big a hero for me to put you across my lap and wear you out for implying that about me."
       "Oh, Daddy! Would you do that? Just like the old days?" Kyle was teasing his dad, and everybody laughed.
       Gene cocked his head toward his wife to indicate Kyle shouldn't say things like that in front of his mother.
       "Oh, Gene, please," she said. "It was funny, and you know it."
       Everybody laughed again.
       The hors d'oeuvres arrived about then, only it was twice the order Gene had made. They were followed by Buddy Oliver and his wife, and two other couples I hadn't met. It was suddenly a cocktail party.
       Rita got busy doing hostess duty. She asked Kyle to make drinks for the newcomers and to freshen the drinks of everyone else. I watched him go behind the counter/bar in the little kitchen to make the drinks. He made drinks for the new arrivals, and Tim delivered them. Then he made fresh ones for those of us who had been there. He disappeared for a few seconds behind a wall, and then he and Tim came out with two drinks each, one for each of them and one for each of the other boys. Jason tasted his and grinned. He said something I couldn't hear, and all four of them laughed, like they were getting away with something.
       Gene was talking to George. "I think Kyle just gave the boys a little cocktail," I said to them.
       "Well, they damn sure deserve one," Gene said.
       "I'll drink to that," George said.
       "So y'all don't have a problem with that--if, in fact, that's what he did?"
       "Kevin, didn't you do stuff like that when you were their age," George asked.
       "Guilty," I said. "You sound like Rick."
       "Let 'em have some fun, son," Gene said. "We're having a hurricane party, and they ain't going anywhere. Relax and enjoy yourself."
       "I guess I worry too much about them," I said.
       "It's 'cause you love 'em, and they don't even know how lucky they are to have you and Rick," Gene said.
       "But we know, Kevin, and we don't even have the words to thank you guys," George said. "Right, Gene?"
       "You got that right, George," Gene said.

       I mingled some, meeting the people who had come in with Buddy Oliver. One of the men was the president of the local Chamber of Commerce in our town, and he invited me to join as soon as we got back home.
       Sam and Fred pulled me aside.
       "It was unbelievable what they did," Sam said.
       "I know. And they said they learned how to do that in the scouts. I announced shamelessly that they were both Eagle Scouts. I wanted to say 'gay Eagle Scouts,' but, of course, I didn't."
       "It sounds like the cop would have been fine with that," Fred said.
       "Yeah. Now I find out," I said.
       They both laughed politely.
       "By the way," Sam said, "the scouts have special awards for bravery. I'm going to nominate them for one."
       "Really," I asked. I wasn't surprised that they did, but it hadn't occurred to me.
       "And I'm going to talk to a friend of mind who works for Boy's Life about doing a story on them, too."
       "What is Boy's Life," I asked.
       "It's the national scouting magazine. Just about every scout gets it, and most schools and libraries do, too. That story will make the editor hard for a week," Sam said.
       Fred and I laughed.

       I saw Kyle come out of a bedroom and head for the kitchen, where the booze was. I figured the boys were all in there smoking, and I wanted a cigarette, too. I knocked.
       "Who is it," Tim asked.
       "It's me," I said.
       "Oh. Come in," he said.
       When I opened the door, a wave of cigarette smoke met me. That was obviously not the main bedroom for the suite, and the boys were propped up on the two double beds that were in it. Justin and Jay each had cigarettes going, but Tim didn't. They had hauled off one of the platters of food, and about half of it was gone. I lit up a smoke and settled in one of the chairs that were around the small table.
       "What's going on, guys," I asked.
       "We're just talkin' and eatin'," Jus said.
       "And smokin' and drinkin'," I said.
       They got deathly quiet.
       "Are we in trouble," Justin asked.
       "That depends. How many drinks have you had?"
       "Just one," Jus said.
       "Justin?" My tone of voice said "Tell me the truth."
       "No, Kev. Just one each. Scout's honor," Tim said.
       "All right, but make the next one your last, okay, guys?"
       "Okay," Tim said.
       "Hooh! I was so scared I was about to shit my pants just now, Kevin," Jus said.
       Kyle burst in just then. He held up a liter of coke and a half bottle of bourbon. "Lookie what I got," he said. Then he saw me, and his eyes got the size of Frisbees.
       "One more drink each, okay," I said.
       Kyle burst into a grin. He poured drinks for the boys and me, and then I made him put the bottle of bourbon on the table next to me. He got on the bed next to Tim.
       Rick found us in a few minutes.
       "What is this, the den of iniquity," he asked.
       "Er, excuse me, but I think it's the Hall of Heroes," Kyle said.
       "I'll hall your hero," he said.
       "Ohhhhhhh," Kyle said seductively.
       "Shut up, asshole," Rick said around his laughter. Pause. "Seriously, I'm so proud of you guys right now, I can hardly stand it. Kyle, your dad's telling the story to those new people out there, and he's crying, man. And your dad's crying, too, Tim. We're so proud."
       Justin said, "The Few. The Proud. The Gay."
       That broke everybody up.

Chapter 3

       The living room of the Goodsons' suite became our headquarters at the hotel. They had a small kitchen, so it was convenient to keep drinks cold and to keep ice frozen. There weren't any formal meetings after the first one to tell the story of the heroes, but people drifted in and out all evening and all the next day.
       Rick and Tim and Kyle and I stayed up late watching TV. They had Movies on Demand at that hotel, so we watched American Pie 2 and The Gladiator. We had all seen both of them before, but they were fun to watch together. Kyle made popcorn in the microwave for us, and we periodically switched back to a local station to check on the storm. The Weather Channel had on-the-scene coverage, so we watched that a little, too. It got worse as the northwest quadrant of the storm approached. That was the worst part of the storm, and it always had the most rain and the highest winds.
       There were already reports of tornadoes, and several mobile homes were destroyed. The police and firefighters had to bear the brunt of emergency services, but other agencies, such as the Red Cross and the Salvation Army, were standing by to help, too.
       "Where did the tornadoes come from," Tim asked.
       "The storm makes 'em," Kyle said. "If there's a lot of them, they do more damage than the hurricane does."
       "Tim, when we drive home, you'll be able to see long stretches where tornadoes went through the woods. The trees will be knocked down like toothpicks, but the strip won't be very wide at all," I said.
       "Cool," Tim replied.
       Rick wasn't himself, at all. He wasn't saying much, but he was also very fidgety. His doctor had given him an anti-anxiety medicine for situations like the one we were in at that moment, and I wondered if he had remembered to bring it with him.
       Rick lit up a cigarette. He coughed a little when he first inhaled, and that got the boys' attention. They had never seen Rick smoke before, and they appeared a little surprised. He had quit smoking over a year before.
       "Did you bring your medicine," I asked him quietly.
       "Yeah," he said.
       "Did you take some of it," I asked.
       "No, but I think I need to. Let me finish this, and I'll go take some," he said.
       "Do you want me to get it for you? I don't mind," I said.
       He smiled at me, and I knew he did want me to get it.
       It only took about thirty minutes for the medicine to kick in. The doctor had said that was one of its strong points, and I could almost see him relax as it took effect.
       "How long do you think we'll have to stay here," Tim asked.
       "That's hard to say, buddy," Rick said. "The water won't stay high for very long, probably, if there is any, but it'll take them some time to get the power back on."
       "What do you mean," he asked.
       "In our neighborhood, the power lines are underground, so they're pretty safe. In most of the county, though, they hang from power poles. If a tree limb is blown off and hits the power line, it can knock the line down. We lose power when that happens," Rick explained.
       "They should cut limbs that are close to power lines," Tim said.
       "They do, Babe," Kyle said, "but it'll knock down whole trees. Big ones, too. You'll see."
       "I guess a big tree could crash into a house, too," Tim offered.
       "They do it all the time," Kyle replied.
       Tim was holding Kyle against his chest like I usually held Rick, and, pretty soon after that last exchange, Kyle went to sleep in his lover's arms. I watched Tim watching him, and if what I saw in Tim's face wasn't pure love, I didn't know what pure love was. Eventually, the movie ended, and we all went to bed.

       The weather was terrible when we woke up Sunday morning. After we made love, Rick and I lay in bed listening to the thunder and the wind. The rain was coming down hard, and it was barely light, even though it was close to nine o'clock. We heard a knock on the door. Rick asked who it was, and a timid voice said it was Tim. He opened the door, and it was both boys.
       "We know it's Sunday morning, but can we come in," Kyle asked. "Tim's scared."
       Rick opened the door wider to let them in. He and I were both still naked, but we had been around the boys naked so much that it didn't matter to any of us.
       "Come and get in with us," I said.
       The boys scampered into bed between Rick and me. It was a deluxe king-size bed, so there was plenty of room. Tim was trembling.
       "Are you cold," I asked him.
       "I'm just a little scared. I had a bad dream that scared me, and the storm is kind of scary, too," he said. "All of you guys have been through lots of hurricanes, but this is my first one."
       "What was the dream about? Can you tell us," I asked.
       "I dreamed Kyle drowned instead of saving that baby," he said softly.
       "Oh, Timmy, that is scary, but it was just a dream," I said.
       "I know, but I would die if Kyle died," Tim said.
       I didn't say anything, but I knew that was true. I knew he loved him that much.
       Rick flipped on the TV set and tried to get one of the stations from home. It didn't come on so he tried another one. The second station came in perfectly, and the announcer said that the first station we had tried, plus a number of radio stations there, were off the air because of the storm. The woman wasn't exactly gleeful over that news, but she wasn't sad, either.
       The station showed film of the hurricane. It had speeded up and had made landfall earlier than they had predicted. It had been upgraded to a Cat 4, but the storm surge wasn't as bad as it could have been because it had come ashore at low tide. There was local flooding all over the county because of the rain, but the Gulf and the enormous system of bays that dominated our landscape didn't flood.
       We stayed in bed for about a half hour, and then we decided to get up. Rick got up first and took a shower. While he was getting dressed, I went in and took mine.
       "Did y'all take showers this morning," I asked the boys when I was finished. It was obvious they hadn't shaved, so I wondered about showers.
       "We did yesterday afternoon when we first got here," Kyle said. "Do we stink?"
       "No. Of course not," I said. "I was just wondering.
       We had breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and it was the kind of buffet the boys loved. They saw several people they knew from home, and the place looked like it was full.
       That afternoon the worst part of the rain and wind came through Dothan. We lost power for a few seconds until the hotel's backup generating system kicked in, but otherwise it wasn't uncomfortable for us. The boys wanted to go swimming, but even they finally realized that it wasn't very safe to be outside and in a pool with all the lightening that was going on.

       By Monday morning the storm was gone. George, Rick, and I decided to go home, at least for the day, to survey the damage. Rick and I also had the little matter of our jobs. I had already made the mental transition to being Executive VP of Goodson Enterprises, but I hadn't so much as mentioned to anybody at my hotel that I was leaving. Gene had said we could have as much time as we needed to sever our ties with our company, and that process of severing had to begin that day.
       I got to work around ten o'clock, and I told the Director of Sales I had to speak with her.
       "I really didn't expect you to come in today," she said, after I had taken a seat in her office.
       "Well, we spent the night in Dothan, but I wanted to come in because I want to tell you something. I've been offered another job, and I really can't turn it down."
       She looked a little distraught.
       "I'm not surprised, Kevin. I knew it was just a matter of time before someone would discover you. May I ask who it is," she said.
       "It's Goodson Enterprises. I'll be Executive Vice President in charge of their hotel properties," I said.
       "I see. I know Gene, of course. Everybody knows Gene. You must have made quite an impression on him. I didn't even know he was looking for someone."
       I explained about the anticipated expansion without giving any details, and she listened carefully.
       "It's a wonderful opportunity, Kevin, and you'll be with this company many years, and will have to move around the country two or three times, at least, before anything remotely as big as that opens up with us. When does he want you?"
       "As soon as possible, of course," I said.
       She chuckled politely.
       "Frankly, you've been a huge resource for us, and there's probably no way I'll be able to replace you ever, much less in two weeks," she said. "Unless you need to hang around here because of the money, I'm going to let you leave any time you want to. We'll miss you. How does Rick feel about it?"
       I explained George's plans for Rick.
       "Oh, my," she said.
       While I was doing that, Rick was having the same conversation with his boss. His boss told him many of the same things mine had said to me, but he, too, told Rick he was free to leave whenever he was ready.
       We had to drive through town on our way back to Dothan, and the place had the look of a ghost town. None of the traffic signals were working, so we had to approach them as though they were four-way stop signs. Some drivers either didn't know that or failed to notice the darkened signal lights, and we saw at least three near accidents.
       "I talked to Gene," Rick said.
       "Oh, yeah? What did he say?"
       "He said that all of his properties escaped, with only minor damage at a couple of them. He said they had had enough time to get prepared, so they didn't even have any broken windows anywhere."
       "In some places," I said, "a situation like this would create a field day for looters. The cops and the auxiliary cops and the reservist cops are working 24/7 here, though."

       Back in Dothan, we hunted up the boys, who seemed more filled with energy than they usually were. Gene wasn't back yet, so Kyle joined us, Justin and Jason, and George and Tim for dinner.
       "What did y'all do today," Rick asked.
       The four boys grinned and looked at one another with devilment in their eyes.
       "It must have really been something," I said.
       "Oh, it was," George said. He was smiling, too, so I figured it wasn't too terrible.
       "Well, come on. Somebody tell us," Rick said.
       "We'll show you," Kyle said. "One, two, three."
       On "three," he and Tim raised their tee shirts up, and we saw what they had done. They had gotten their nipples pierced. They had matching gold loops in all four nubs.
       "Well," I said. I really didn't know what else to say.
       "Well, indeed," George echoed.
       "Are you okay with this, George," I asked.
       "Actually, I am, Kevin. I know it's fashionable, and it's not permanent, like tattoos. I really don't object," George said.
       "We get tattoos tomorrow," Kyle said.
       "He's teasing you, Dad," Tim said before George could start.
       "I really am teasing, Mr. Murphy," Kyle said.
       George got a look of relief on his face.
       "You should say Dr. Murphy, not Mr. Murphy, Kyle," Jason said.
       "I know. I keep forgetting that," Kyle said. "Maybe if he pulled some of my teeth I could remember."
       We all laughed at Kyle.
       "Why don't all of you just call me George," he said.
       "I couldn't do that, Mr. Murphy. Dr. Murphy, I meant. What if I call you Doc?"
       "Whatever you're comfortable with, Kyle, but, truly, George is fine with me," George said.
       "But it wouldn't be fine with my mamma and daddy, Doc," Kyle said.
       That night after dinner we all went for a swim in the hotel pool. There were two kids down there who were around the ages of our boys, and those two boys couldn't keep their eyes off the nipple rings three of our four wore. One of them had a small tattoo at the top of his bicep, and I suspected they were envious of the body decorations of our guys.
       We ended up playing pool fight, with those boys joining in as a team. Tim got on Kyle's shoulders, and I got on Rick's, and we faced off. I was a little nervous about horsing around too much with them because of their new piercings, and, in fact, we ended the game when one of Tim's started bleeding a little.
       George had been busy at one of the computers in the hotel lobby that were there for guests to use. He joined us in the living room of the suite. The kids put on shorts, but they sat around bare chested.
       "I did some research on nipple piercing while you guys were in the pool," George said.
       "What did you find out, Dad," Tim asked.
       "Do you have any idea how it originated," he asked.
       "No, sir," Kyle said, and everyone else shook their heads to indicate they didn't know, either.
       "It was actually the Roman soldiers who started the custom," he said. "They wore nipple rings as a sign of bravery. Historians believe they used them to intimidate their enemies, who could obviously see them in hand-to-hand combat."
       "That's petty cool," Kyle said.
       "Yeah," Tim said.
       "In light of your recent feats of bravery, I think it's fully appropriate that you have pierced nipples," George pronounced. I loved George to death, but George didn't talk to people; he lectured.
       I noticed Justin doing something to his nipple rings, and I asked him what he was doing.
       "Taking 'em out," he said.
       "Why, Bubba," Kyle asked. "Leave 'em in. They look so cool."
       "Yeah, but these things weren't put here 'cause I was brave, that's for damn sure," he said.
       "We think you're brave," Tim said.
       "I ain't brave. I'm just stupid, and I should have taken these out months ago," Jus said.
       "What do they stand for, then," Tim asked him.
       "Slavery." He said the word quietly, and nobody contradicted him or offered a wisecrack. It was a tribute to his brothers and his boyfriend that they understood what he meant and supported him in what he was doing.
       It took him a few seconds to get them out, but he finally did. He rubbed his nipples a little, not in any kind of sexual way but as a way of seeing what it felt like to be without them. I was proud of Jus for not giving in to the peer pressure Kyle and Tim exerted on him and for doing what he wanted to do.
       Nobody said anything for a few moments. Then Kyle broke the silence.
       "We're growing beards, too. All four of us."
       "I was wondering what that shit was all about on your faces," Rick said.
       "We're going to shave some, Rick," Kyle said. "We're going to grow goatees."
       Kyle had a pretty heavy beard for a kid who wasn't yet seventeen. He shaved pretty much every day, but you could see his dark whiskers below the surface of his skin even right after he had shaved. Tim's beard was even a lighter blond than his natural hair color, but it was definitely there. Jus had a beard about the color of Tim's, and I could tell his beard-growing project probably wouldn't be as successful as his brothers'. Jay had dark hair, too, but he had one of those kinds of beards where his moustache didn't actually connect with the hair on his chin. I thought it would be fun to watch their beards come in, if they stuck with it.
       "You guys are turning into studs around here," Rick said.
       "Have you ever grown a beard, Rick," Tim asked.
       "Not recently, but I did several times in college. I've got a spot where the hair grows in a swirl, though, and it's actually uncomfortable there for me not to shave for more than a couple of days. Besides, I feel dirty when I don't shave," Rick said.
       "I'm the same way, Rick," George said. "I can go for a day, maybe even two, but then I've got to scrape it off."
       "What about you, Kevin," Jus asked.
       "Yeah, I've grown 'em. In college, like Rick said. If I could go away for like two weeks where nobody could see me, and then return to civilization with a beard well underway, I wouldn't feel too bad about it. I just felt real self-conscious when I've grown them," I said.
       "Well, I ain't promising I'm going to grow it out, but I want to try," Kyle said.
       "Boys, y'all might not believe this, but when I was your age, if I showed up at school with a beard, I would have been sent home and told not to show up until I had shaved," George said.
       "Really," Tim asked, incredulity in his voice.
       "Really, son. I went to a private, all-boys Catholic high school, and they had a very strict dress code. For example, we couldn't wear jeans to school. No facial hair, either," he said. "If a guy showed up with an earring, he would have been sent home or made to take it out in the principal's office."
       "Damn, Dad," Tim said.
       "I went to exactly the same kind of high school, Tim," I said. "We had to wear a uniform, with a tie, to school every day. Earrings were forbidden. A lot of guys took them off in their cars before they came into the building in the morning and put them back when they got into their cars in the afternoon, but nobody wore stuff like that at school."
       "Damn, and you're modern, sort of," Tim said to me. That cracked everybody up.
       "I think it's time to put my antique ass in bed," George said. Again, more laughter. Good night, my sons. Good night, guys." And then he left the room.
       "Your dad is so cool, Tim," Jason said. "And yours, too, Kyle. I'm, like, in awe of them."
       "Is your dad hard to get along with, Jay," I asked.
       "'Get along with' is kind of a stretch," Jay said. "He ignores me, and I ignore him, as much as I can."
       "Does he know you're gay," Rick asked.
       "Yeah, and that's a big part of the problem. Ever since I told him, he's been really cold toward me. My mom's nice, though, and my sister," Jay said.
       "Do you want to talk about this right now, Jay," I asked. I could tell he was getting more uncomfortable by the minute.
       "Not really," he said. We let the subject drop.

       Power was fully restored at home by Wednesday morning, and the school system declared that Thursday would be a regular day of school. The boys had missed three days. Rita had said she thought they would have to make those days up, probably on Saturdays or during Christmas or Spring Break, and that had darkened the mood of everyone under the age of twenty-one. As it turned out, though, "hurricane days" had been built into the yearly schedule, so they didn't have to make up the days.
       Once everything was restored to normal in town, the media started running "human interest" stories about things that had happened during the storm. Both the NBC and the ABC affiliate TV stations in town picked up the story of our boys, the heroes, and the newspaper ran a story about them, as well.
       "Well, I guess your shit doesn't stink anymore," Rick said one night to tease them.
       "Kyle's still does," Tim said.
       We laughed, of course, and Kyle held his nose and pointed at Tim. That made us laugh, too.
       Over several days we got news of various medals and awards the boys were going to get. The Optimist Club that sponsored their scout troop gave each of them a medal and a plaque, and they threw in a two-hundred-dollar gift certificate to a local departments store for each of them, too.
       Just as Sam had predicted, they had a call from the editor of Boy's Life magazine, and he wanted to do a cover story about the two of them. They were sending photographers in from an agency they used to get their pictures, and a reporter was coming to interview them.
       "What if he asks us if we're gay," Tim asked about the reporter.
       "Has any other reporter asked you that," I asked.
       They answered in the negative.
       "So why would the guy from Boy's Life ask you that," Rick asked. "Besides, there aren't any gay scouts. You guys know that." Everybody laughed.
       They also found out they were going to receive a special medal from the National Executive Committee of the Boy Scouts, to be presented at an annual awards dinner in Washington, D.C. the following spring.
       The boys were really excited about all of the publicity they were getting and about all the awards they were receiving, but all of that attention had about as much effect on them as a pimple on their chins would have had. They never talked about what they had done, and all the praise didn't change their personalities in the least. They still laughed and joked and played around with each other, with Justin and Jason, and with us like they always had.

       Sam Stewart, the boys' assistant scoutmaster and, by then, one of our best friends, called one evening to see if we wanted to go camping with him, Fred, and his nephew the following weekend.
       "Your nephew," I asked.
       "Yeah. He's my sister's son. He's fourteen, and he's going to be visiting me for a few weeks, I think," Sam said.
       "You don't sound real excited about this," I said.
       "Well, I'm excited about him being here, but I don't really like the reason for his visit," he said.
       "So what is this all about, Sam," I asked.
       "He's gay, and he came out to my sister and her husband a couple of days ago. My brother-in-law sort of lost it, and they decided it would be best if Chad got away from there for a little while until his dad could calm down. Where else do you send a queer kid but to his queer uncle?"
       "Oh, it's too bad it happened that way," I said.
       "Yeah, it is. Chuck, his dad, is basically a good guy, and I know he'll come around eventually, but Chad is pretty upset right now, and so is his mom," Sam said.
       "Is he going to be going to school here," I asked.
       "He's officially on 'home school' status, whatever that means. He's enrolled in some kind of on-line program, so he probably won't get too far behind, but I doubt that school was a very happy place for Chad even before this came up," Sam said.
       "Why not," I asked. "What's up with him?"
       "Chad's not like Tim and Kyle, and Justin and Jason," Sam said.
       "Oh?"
       "Or you and Rick or us or any of our gay friends, for that matter," he said.
       "What is this kid, Sam? Some kind of monster," I asked.
       "Hardly a monster," he said. "He's just extremely shy and very effeminate, that's all. His only friend is a girl who has cerebral palsy."
       "Well, being effeminate is not exactly unheard of in the gay community, is it," I asked. I had intended for my statement to be humorous, but Sam didn't laugh.
       "Oh, of course not, but I think a lot of people find it rather off-putting," he said.
       I thought back to a conversation we had all had shortly after Jus had come to live with us in which he announced he wasn't interesting in what he called "drama queens." He had meant effeminate boys. I knew Rick didn't have much patience with effeminate guys, and I was pretty sure Tim and Kyle wouldn't find that type appealing, either.
       "We'll deal with it, Sam, and Chad will be a member of our family. Don't worry about us or the boys. Did you have someplace in mind for us to go," I asked.
       "Yeah, I was actually thinking of the Florida Caverns State Park, just north of here. Have you ever been there," he asked.
       "I've heard of it, but we haven't been there. Is it nice?"
       "Yeah, it's very nice. The caverns themselves are really interesting, although only one of them is actually open for tours. But the park is beautiful, and they have swimming and canoeing and horseback riding and biking and probably other stuff as well. I was thinking I would borrow some tents from the troop, and we could do some primitive camping, with showers and toilets furnished by the park, of course."
       "Yeah, that sounds like fun," I said. "I haven't done much of that, but I know Rick and Tim and Kyle have."
       "Cool. What say we rendezvous at your house Friday afternoon when we get off work and leave from there. It'll be light until eight or later, and we can get up there, set up camp, and cook while it's still daylight," Sam said.
       "Do we need to get together before then to talk about food and stuff like that," I asked.
       "That might be a good idea. How does tomorrow night sound," he asked.
       "That sounds good. Why don't y'all come over. Or better yet, let's all meet at the Goodsons' house around 5:30. We can swim and grill some hamburgers and hotdogs. The boys can get to know Chad, and we can plan our weekend. This is going to be fun," I said.
       "Y'all are too good. I knew I could count on you," he said.
       After we hung up, I told Rick what I had committed us too, and he got pretty excited about the camping trip. He got on the Internet, which was something he rarely did, and got information about the caverns and the park. I called the Goodsons to make sure I hadn't spoken out of turn by saying we could get together at their house, and, just as I had expected, Rita said she hoped I knew we didn't have to ask to use their facilities.
       "I know, Rita, but I thought you might like to know when a pack of boys is going to show up at your house," I said.
       She laughed. "Well, Gene and I will be playing bridge tomorrow night, but I know you can get by without us. By the way, Gene has had nothing but praise for the way you and Rick have been running things for him. We are truly blessed to have friends like y'all."
       "We've both been having a great time. It's been great not having to wear a suit and tie to work everyday, too," I said.
       She giggled the way a Southern lady was supposed to, and we concluded our conversation.
       I called the Murphy household and told George about the plan. In fact, I invited him to join us, but he said he saw patients on Saturday.
       "Really," I asked.
       "Yeah," he said. "The practice is open six days a week. I take Saturdays and am off Sunday and Monday. Tim Kelly works on Mondays, and we're there together the rest of the week."
       I had known that, but it had slipped my mind. Kyle was at their house that night, and, when I talked to him and Tim on their speaker phone, they were both excited about the idea of a camping trip.
       Justin and Jason were at our house, and they both had to work on Saturday. Jus actually worked for Rick, so I knew he could get the day off, but he said he wanted to work.
       "Besides, we have plans for a concert Saturday night. Shit-kicking music," he said with a grin.
       "That's fine," I said. "You don't have to go, but I wanted to include y'all if y'all were interested."
       The next evening, Sam, Fred, and Chad met us at the Goodsons'. I had told my guys that Chad might be a little effeminate, and they had all said they could handle that and were cool with that. None of us was prepared for Chad, though.
       Chad was small, maybe five-four, and he probably didn't weigh a hundred pounds. He was extremely pale. His hair was spiked up like Tim's and Kyle's, and he had seven or eight earrings in each ear. He had on several necklaces and two or three bracelets, too, and there was a ring on every finger of both hands. His skin was almost translucent. The crowning feature, though, was his makeup. He was wearing eyeliner and a sort of dark maroon lipstick. From his appearance, he could just as easily have been a girl as a boy.
       Tim and Kyle had been in the water a good half hour by the time Sam and Fred arrived with Chad, and, of course, they were naked. Both of them had had some growth in the penis department over the previous six months or so, and they were unquestionably man-size by then. They were still sporting the goatees they started growing during the hurricane, and by then they were pretty nice, especially Kyle's because of his dark hair. They got out of the pool when the guests arrived, and they wrapped towels around their waists to greet them.
       Sam introduced Chad to Rick and me, and then to the boys. Chad's voice was at least an octave above Tim's and Kyle's, and he shook hands with them rather reluctantly. It was pretty clear he was intimidated by them. He checked them out pretty thoroughly, though, and he certainly noticed the gold loops they each wore in their nipples.
       "Welcome to Florida, Chad," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, we're glad to have you, man," Tim said.
       "Thanks," Chad said. "This place is gorgeous, and this view is fabulous," he said.
       "Thanks. This is my house," Kyle said. "Hey, you want to swim, guys," Kyle said to everyone.
       "You know I do," Rick said.
       "Yeah, me, too," Sam said.
       "Do you want to swim with us, Chad," Kyle asked. His voice was incredibly gentle, and I knew he thought it was his responsibility to make sure Chad felt included.
       "Oh, no," Chad said. "I'll just watch. Besides, I didn't bring a suit."
       "You don't really need a suit," Kyle said, "but I've got a bunch of them upstairs, if you want me to get you one."
       "No, that's fine, er, Kyle, is it?"
       "Yeah, I'm Kyle. He's Tim," Kyle said.
       "I'll just watch," Chad said. He winked at Kyle, and Kyle sort of blushed a little.
       The rest of us shucked off our clothes and hit the water. Chad took a seat in one of the chairs that was around a table, and he watched us. Kyle had left his cigarettes and lighter on that table, and Chad lit one up after a while. He held it the way Justin had demonstrated months before how a "drama queen" held a cigarette, and I almost laughed when I saw him.
       "That Chad's a piece of work," Rick said to the four grownups in the pool.
       "Tell me," Sam said.
       "He looks like you, Sam, and he certainly acts like you," Rick said.
       "You motherfucker," Sam said, with a grin on his face.
       He dove underwater and tackled Rick. Rick went down with a mighty "ooooohf." Tim and Kyle took that as their cue for an attack on Fred and me, and a water war ensued between the three scouts and the three other guys. Fred turned out to be a pretty agile water fighter. Rick finally ended it by swimming up between my legs and taking my balls into his mouth. He bit down gently on my scrotum above my nuts, and that told me it was time to quit. He came up laughing his ass off, and I grinned at the love of my life.
       "Time to cook," I yelled.
       Everybody was pretty tired from the horseplay, so we got out of the pool. There weren't any towels at the deep end of the pool, where we got out, so we all just walked naked down to the covered area, where Chad was. Tim's and Kyle's dicks were both distended, but they paid no attention to them. The rest of us were shriveled a bit, if anything, but we didn't bother to dress in any way, either.
       Kyle, the future hospitality major, got the gas fire started in the grill, and he sent Tim inside to get the food. Those two boys were an incredible team in lots of areas, but food preparation at that grill was their absolute strongest point. There was a meat market-cum-deli about five miles east of the bridge in town that had some of the finest food around, and they had gone there after school that day to score pre-made raw hamburgers, sausages, and three kinds of salad. They had also gotten all the buns we needed and enough chips to feed twice as many people as were there. The Goodsons supplied the plates, napkins, silverware, and condiments.
       I offered a drink to Sam and Fred from Gene's liquor cabinet. I knew from years of experience that Rick wouldn't drink one, even if he said he would, so I didn't offer him one. Sam and Fred accepted, and I poured a drink for myself, too.
       "I'm dying to get into that house to see what she's done with it," Chad said.
       "Go on in and look around," Rick said. "There's nobody here but us."
       "Oh, please," Chad said. "I need a tour. How will I know what everything is?"
       "You know a table from a chair, don't you," Fred asked.
       Chad gave Fred a smirk. It was a friendly smirk, but it was still a smirk. "There is a lot of money here," Chad said, "and I know they have nice things. I want hissssstory, I want backkkkkground, I want deeeeetail." He gasped out those words.
       "Kyle can tell you all that," Rick said.
       "Oh, I am sooooo sure. I can hear it now. 'This baseball trophy I won in the fifth grade, and this one was from seventh grade.'"
       Chad was effeminate, but he was also very funny. All of us laughed at the trophy thing because we all knew Kyle and knew that that was about his level of comprehension of the history of anything in that house.
       Tim had set the long picnic table, and the salads, breads, and condiments were all laid out for us. Just about then Kyle said,
       "Weenies are up, boys," and he put a platter of sausages on the table.
       All of us chuckled at Kyle's double entendre, but Chad thought it was hilarious. Four naked guys and Chad moved over to the table to eat.
       "I love a hot weenie," Chad said, and we all laughed.
       Tim and Kyle brought a platter of hamburgers to the table about two minutes later, and they sat down to eat with us.
       "Wow, this is really good, guys," Sam said.
       "Thanks, Sam," Tim said. "Do you think this would qualify us for the 'cooking' merit badge?"
       "No question, buddy," Sam said.
       "Oh, my God," Chad said, "am I in a nest of Boy Scouts here, or what?"
       "Yeah," Sam, Kyle, Tim, and Rick said simultaneously. "You're in a nest of Eagles," Tim said.
       "Oh, well, excuse me," Chad said.

       After the meal, Sam, Kyle, and I lit up cigarettes. Kyle noticed Chad seemed to want one, too, so he extended his pack to him. He took one and lit up. Again, Justin's "drama queen" image came to mind.
       "I didn't know you smoked, Chad," Sam said.
       "Just occasionally," he replied. "But let's keep it our little secret, shall we?"
       The way he said that was funny, and we all laughed a little.
       We talked about the camping trip, and Kyle got us notepads and pens to make lists of what each person would be responsible for. We decided on three tents and that the three boys would bunk together.
       "Aren't you afraid of what a fag might do to your boys," Chad asked.
       "What do you mean," Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, I'm gay," Chad said. He used a kind of mock confidential tone of voice and a stage whisper that was pretty cute and pretty funny.
       "Chad, so are we," Kyle said in the same tone. He even imitated Kyle's prissy facial expression, and everyone, including Chad, laughed.
       "Oh, please," Chad said.
       "Chad, it's true. We're all gay. These guys have been a couple for about nine