Come Christmas Steve

Come Christmas Steve Chapter 25 Rodeo or Bust

Time became my enemy. Each day was like the last. It had been a full week since the Colt incident and nothing had happened, so I was relieved. Mom's magic had apparently worked. Billy and I gave up trying to get it out of her what she'd said to Colt's mother. My days consisted of chores, little fixit jobs around the house and occasionally helping Dad in the shop. The rest of the time, I spent poking around the computer and running. And, of course, worrying. Mom suggested I think about learning to play the piano better. For the lack of anything better to do, I took her up on giving me lessons again. I actually found it quite therapeutic. I could lose myself in the music and concentration on hitting the right keys, giving me a welcome escape from my worries.

I was constantly pining over Steve and worried over how he was doing. I asked Adam if he could get me an address to send my letter, but he immediately shot me down. He said there was no such thing as private correspondence in jail, and he absolutely did not want to risk my letter being scrutinized. I was very sad. I needed to communicate with Steve. I needed to let him know I loved him and hadn't forgotten about him. Adam sensed my immense disappointment and made me an offer. He said that in a couple of weeks, he would be going to meet with Steve and if I could get a ride to the jail, he'd give us some time together. That cheered me back up and gave me something to look forward to.

I was also thinking a lot about Colt and wondering how he was doing. I could only hope that Colt and his mom had formed an alliance and that his dad was unaware of Colt's indiscretion. As for Billy, he spent his time on his home schooling assignments and the majority of the rest of it texting Jaime. Jaime liked the foster family she was placed with in town and had decided to just finish out her school year by going back to our high school. Her foster mother was willing to drive her back and forth each day so that had worked out nicely. All except for Billy and Jaime not being able to see each other. Billy was desperate to be with her and it sounded like she was longing for him also. It seemed to me that they really were in love with each other.

I'm pretty sure they were relying on phone sex. Either that, or when I overheard him through the door saying things like, "Oh yeah, baby, suck it. Suck it good. Yeah, that's it. Now my balls. You know I love it when you suck my balls," he was talking to himself and I didn't think he was that flexible. I'd have been thrilled for the chance to have even that much interaction with Steve. I missed him terribly and wanted so bad to lie naked against his warm skin again, snuggling, caressing and kissing. Settling for the candle up my ass while fantasizing about it being Steve's dick up there didn't really 'hold a candle' to the real thing.

On Thursday, I had just finished my run around the perimeter of our little ranch. While I was running, Dad had driven past me with a man I didn't recognize in our old green truck. Dad gave me a nod as they drove by, but he didn't stop. I wondered who the man was. I'd showered, fucked myself with the emergency candle, and gotten dressed when my phone sang out, "I shot the Sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy." It was a ringtone of some old time song that Billy put on my phone, thinking he was being funny. To be honest, I did find it kinda funny and left it there. I was startled by it since no one ever called me. My first thought was Sheriff Withers, so it was a relief and a thrill to see that it was Whittaker instead.

"Dude!" I exclaimed. "What's up? I'm so excited to hear from you."

"Hey, Shane," Whittaker crooned. "Been thinking about you a ton, but I've been hella busy here, you can't imagine. This place is nutso. Seen me on any of the talk shows?" he asked.

"No. Don't tell me you've been doing Letterman?" I joked. "Let me guess, you read his top ten alternate uses for a dildo."

"Shut up! No, I haven't been on Letterman. That's funny, though. Number ten," he joked, "Door stop at the rectory." I almost passed out, I laughed so hard. Whittaker continued, "The poor priest misunderstood when it said it was for back door use in the rectum." I thought I might pee my pants.

When I caught my breath, I said, "Number nine, paper towel holder at the PTA bake sale."

"Number eight," Whittaker snickered, "bookends in the school library. It keeps those books fully erect."

"You're crazy, dude." Then I said, "Okay, I got number seven. Doggie chew toy."

"Yeah, especially if you let your dog sleep in bed with you," Whittaker added. "It'll be more than just a full bladder waking you up!"

"Ouch," I agreed. "Max! That is not a chew toy!" Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I'd forgotten how easily Whittaker could make me laugh.

"All right, last one," Whittaker said, "Tongue depressor in a doctor's office."

"Sick!" I whined. "I got one last good one." It was starting to get a little old.

"Okay, go ahead," he agreed. "It better not be lame, though. Or I should say, it better not be limp."

"Number five, whip cream spatula. Whip it good and creamy!"

"Hey kids," Whittaker sang in a woman's voice. "Who wants to lick the spatula?"

He one-upped me again. "I do! I do!" I cried out.

"Yeah, I bet you do," Whittaker goaded. "You'd lick it clean."

"You bet I would," I agreed. Our laughter dropped off and I confessed, "I've missed you, man. I'm going crazy here all cooped up, all day, every day."

"That sucks, man. I wish I was there too. I'd love to have you lick the batter off my spatula for me. I miss you, too."

"So if you haven't been on Letterman, what shows have you been on?"

"I've done the Today Show and Good Morning America. Oh, and the O'Reilly Factor, if you can believe it. So you haven't seen me?"

"Maybe if you'd given me a heads up. I'm barely aware that any of those shows exist. I don't ever actually watch them."

"Yeah, guess not. Well you have to watch Ellen tomorrow. I'll be on it. I'm taping it today. How cool is that? I met her this morning and she's amazing."

"Wow! I've definitely heard of Ellen. I'll check it out," I said. "Dude, you're a celebrity?"

"Crazy huh?" Whittaker responded. "You still getting hounded by the media? This boys' home sex scandal that we exposed has really blown up. They've busted pedo's all over the freakin' world because of it. The latest is that drug lord in Columbia. He had a damn harem of young boys, sex slaves from all over the globe. This is a major federal case and the politico's are swarming all over it."

"No, the reporters aren't hounding us lately. Since Adam told them all to F-off, they have. I suppose once this starts going to trial, they'll start showing up again. My story's kind of a side show, I think. Hey," I added, "I took your advice to start running, by the way. It's helped a little with the boredom. That and I'm taking piano lessons from my mom. It's like I'm eleven again."

"Sweet. You'll end up kicking my ass the next time we run together. I don't have time for it and Mom doesn't really want me out running around DC by myself. I did have a strange experience the other day though. You heard of a congressman named Clougherty from Vermont?"

"No. Should I have?"

"Mmm, probably not. But he has taken a big interest in the case and has been working with my mom in crafting some new legislation designed to monitor youth homes more closely. Anyway, he took me to lunch and was all curious about the details of our ordeal and he wanted to know all about you and Steve's gay relationship. He kept asking if I'd seen the pictures and list of clients from the flash drive and if I recognized any of them. I wouldn't go there with him, but he said that he'd heard the part of the story where Judge Arty wanted to see my penis up by the river, because it was so long. I told him that part was true and that's what gave me the opportunity to snap his fucking neck."

"That's crazy," I said.

"The crazy part is that he was asking me about how I kept so fit and I told him I used to run a lot but don't have a chance to here in DC. So he invites me to go with him the next day to the Congressional gym. It's this really nice facility that only Congressmen can use. The Senators have their own also. There's no signs on it and if you didn't know, you'd never guess it was a gym from the outside. The congressman had to be buzzed in and show his creds and then sign me in as a guest. Apparently, guests are discouraged. They don't really want it to become public knowledge that they have these kinds of perks. Maybe for security too. Anyway, we changed and I ran the track that goes around the top sides of the building while he worked on the weights below. Then we undressed together in the locker room and hung out naked in the sauna, steam room and hot tub for a while. He was totally checking me out the whole time. He is such a closet case. No doubt about it, dude."

"Okay, that's definitely crazy!!" I laughed my ass off, along with Whittaker, over that.

"Fucker invited me back for the following day, but I had shit to do," Whittaker said.

"So was he openly hitting on you?" I asked.

"In subtle ways. He'd purposely expose his pudgy dick to me, like unwrap his towel and leave it open right in front of me for longer than needed before putting it back around him. He kept standing up in the hot tub and stretching right in front of me so his goods would come just out of the water. Then sometimes, he'd let a hand fall on my arm or thigh and purposely brush his leg against mine. In the sauna, we were alone a while and he started plumping. His dick crept into a semi-stiffie, draped on his thigh. He kept asking all kinds of sex related questions about our experience and was constantly complimenting what a nice body I had. He even complimented my package a couple times. Totally awkward and weird."

"Wow. Messed up," I agreed.

Whittaker and I chatted a long time and he made me laugh some more. It was a welcome relief from my worries. "Dude," he concluded "make sure you check it out tomorrow. I have some good stuff to say. Your attorney has been talking with my mom and I think there's lots of reasons to be hopeful, okay?"

"Thanks. I needed to hear that. Sometimes I just get thinking about all this shit and I feel myself slipping into depression almost. All of it is just so messed up," I said.

"For sure. Fucking Uncle Arty and his pedo posse. I can't believe how many lives they messed up. Especially Calvin. I guess that's one alternate use for a dildo we forgot - murder weapon."

"Shit, Whittaker," I said. "That's not funny."

"I didn't mean it to be. That's the one thing that haunts me most," he said. Sadness filled the dead space between us. "I should have convinced him not to go with them. I should have convinced him to stay with us. He'd still be alive if he'd stayed with us."

"Yeah. You did try."

"Not hard enough. I actually thought, when he argued about it, oh well, it's his fucking life. Turned out, I was right." I could tell Whittaker had started crying. His voice cracked as he said that last line. I had no idea how to console him. I felt responsible for his death as well. I hadn't realized Whittaker was feeling it too. I knew from experience that there was nothing I could say to help him feel better.

"Did you love him?" I asked. I don't know why I asked that, but it just fell out of my mouth.

"No. Not like how you mean it. We bonded, though. The freak and the geek. He was misunderstood. All that tough, 'I don't give a shit', attitude was a defense mechanism. He was pretty vulnerable. I was his only friend he'd ever had, I think. Plus, there's something strangely bonding about your first sex partner."

"Your what?" I asked. "Are you trying to tell me, you were a virgin? What about all the talk of girls you'd done in high school?"

"Just that. Big talk. I guess technically, Calvin wasn't my first. You were. That night in your dorm room when we switched roommates. Fuck! It's just so damned unfair. Why'd they have to kill him, Shane? Why? He didn't even want to get involved, he wouldn't have ratted them out." Whittaker was full on crying.

"I don't know? I really don't. They're just heartless assholes."

"I hope they nail the two assholes' balls to the floor in prison and give them a dull knife," Whittaker spat.

"Are you gonna be all right?" I asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I will. Sorry to bring this all down and make us sad and shit. You know me, Debby Downer," he said. He blew his nose. It sounded like a fog horn.

"Seriously, hang in there."

"You too. You'll beat this bad rap, dude. Then we can go do some good together and maybe make this f'd up world a little better somehow."

"Okay. Deal! Thanks Whittaker. I mean it. I really appreciate you. Tons." We hung up and I just sat at my desk, clinging to the phone and reliving the conversation, the laughter, the friendship, and the hope, and also the despair. He was such a loyal friend. He may not have been able to save Calvin, but he saved my life. I was happy that he was making something of value come from our experience. His closing comment made me realize, I needed to find a way to make some kind of difference in the world too. I immediately got online and checked out the time and channel for Ellen. I was excited to watch it. To my surprise, my phone played the 'I Shot the Sheriff' ringtone again. Two calls in one day was a record. It was Adam.

"Hi, what's up?" I asked.

"I'm headed down to Billings to meet with Mr. Fahrenheit next Tuesday. Can you get a ride?"

"I'll find a way. Yes. For sure," I said. "What's the meeting about?"

"The feds kicked the state completely off the boys' home case. You and Billy, however, are separate since you don't really have any involvement with the boys' home sex scandal. You're being charged with a completely separate incident stemming from the evening in Yellowstone. And Billy's actions are also being treated as a separate violation. Feds don't want to drag the gun rights activists into their prosecution of the underage sex ring and risk any distraction from their core prosecution. I need to explore the depth of Steve's involvement in the sex ring operations in much greater detail now."

"That sounds like a good thing that Billy and I aren't lumped in with the federal sex ring case, right?" I asked.

"Not really. That means the only thing our local D.A. has to get him any headlines is you two. Cutting a deal would have been much easier when you guys were a sideshow for him. Now, you're not only his main attraction, you're his only attraction. If he lets you off the hook, he has no reason to get his precious air time and exposure to the voters during his run at state AG," Adam explained.

"That's not right. He's using us for political publicity? That's messed up!"

"That's life in America, God bless her," Adam replied. "But don't worry, I've got a lot of resources working the case and I'm confident we'll do okay. Especially Billy's case."

"But not mine?" I asked.

"No, yours too. Billy's is less uncertain is all. You'll be fine. Don't worry," Adam reassured. I was worried though. More than ever, I was worried.

"What does that mean for me then?" I pushed.

"Your college friend who was abducted with you, David Whittaker, is very active right now. I've been in contact with his mother, who is a brilliant legal mind. He is building a public opinion case against the key perpetrators and painting Steve and Todd as victims. The feds are less interested in Steve and Todd and more interested in the bigger fish. The more public opinion weighs in on that basis, the better off we are," Adam explained.

"Why does public opinion matter? Isn't it up to the jury what happens?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, but on a case this public, there's no such thing as an uninformed juror. If you did find them, they would not make a good juror anyway. That makes it very important to get all the positive press you can get out there ahead of time."

"That's crazy. So should I start talking to the media again like Whittaker is doing?" I asked.

"No. No, don't talk to anyone. If any media show up, you simply give them a 'no comment' and walk away. Leave the media blitz to David and his mother. He isn't charged with any crime and he can freely say anything without it getting twisted up in a courtroom," Adam replied. "He's going on Ellen tomorrow so try and watch it. It will be good for you to know what's going on and you should watch the evening news reports on the case as well."

"Yeah, I knew about Ellen. I actually just got off the phone with Whittaker." I was honestly disappointed I still couldn't talk to the media. I really wanted to get out there and declare my innocence. I was sick of being an 'alleged' molester. It was all so unfair. "I'll see you on Tuesday then."

The next day, we all gathered around the television for the Ellen show. Whittaker was the headliner for the day. I was surprised to see how he was dressed. He had on dark blue slacks, a white shirt and a shiny blue tie with white dots in a diamond pattern. His red hair was perfectly styled and he looked good enough to eat. "My, he's a handsome young man," Mom said. That made me grin.

I thought to myself, you're not even seeing his best attribute. Ellen did her quick introduction, outlining the basics of the porn ring scandal and then asked Whittaker how it felt to be the hero who broke the case and exposed the ring.

"I don't think of myself as a hero. I was just a small part of it. The real hero is Shane Steel. He was Steve Fahrenheit's roommate and when Steve disappeared, Shane refused to leave any stone unturned to try and locate him. One thing led to another and when the rest of us wanted to give up, Shane refused to quit. His loyalty and his tenacity are what really brought down this sick sex ring. Shane broke the case, I just broke the ring leader's neck."

"That's right. Can you tell us about that bit of heroism?" Ellen asked.

"Well, I guess so. But that was just an attempt to keep from getting plugged in the back of the head."

"But you were shot in the process, right?" Ellen asked pulling one leg up underneath her and leaning in.

"Yes. Luckily it wasn't fatal. Shane's little brother, Billy, took care of the shooter. It was a series of fortunate events for us."

"Take us step by step through what happened up there by the river," Ellen begged.

"We'd been kidnapped by the sex ring guys and an undercover FBI agent, as it turned out. We didn't know he was real FBI at first. They busted in on us under the pretense that they were the FBI and took us to a fake prison under the motel where Judge Arty was running his sex ring out of. When they realized we were of no use to them in retrieving a missing flash drive with tons of incriminating information on it, they decided to whack us."

"Whack?" Ellen asked then grinned. "What do you mean by that?" She lifted one eyebrow.

"You know, shoot us. They took us up by the river to murder and dispose of us. I guess we wouldn't have been the first ones to face that fate. They'd killed several boys there, who were threatening to expose them and then falsified adoption records for them, I've learned."

"That's unthinkable. Tell us what happened next," Ellen pleaded.

"Well, the undercover FBI agent volunteered to be the one to shoot us and he took us to the execution spot with another guy. He laid out a tarp near the river bank and had us kneel on it with our hands cuffed behind our backs. The other guy, the driver, stayed at the van by the road as a lookout. The FBI agent told us who he was and was about to let us go free when Uncle Arty showed up."

"That's the family law judge who's the master mind of the underage sex ring, correct?" Ellen clarified for any uninformed viewers.

"Correct. Somehow, the FBI guy's cover had been blown and he was cuffed and forced to kneel next to us. He was going to get shot with us. It was pretty terrifying at that point. Uncle Arty, being the pig he is, started gloating over us and messing with our heads. He asked me if it was true what he'd heard that I had a large, umm, member."

"Member?" Ellen teased, pretending not to understand.

"Yeah, you know, man part."

"You mean your penis?" Ellen asked with a smirk.

"Well, yeah. That. Can you say that on TV?" Whittaker asked, blushing.

"I just did," she replied smiling. "Go on. This is incredible."

"Well, like I said, he was a complete creep. He wanted to see my, umm, penis, so he had me stand up over him and let him see it. Uncle Arty made Shane come over to, umm, service him, while he, umm, did the same to me. When he crawled between my legs, it gave me the perfect opportunity to squeeze his head between my thighs, drop and twist, snapping his neck. When I did that, his bodyguard shot me, and Shane's brother, who had come looking for us along with Shane's missing roommate, Steve Fahrenheit, shot the shooter. Kind of confusing, I guess. Sorry." Whittaker blushed.

"Don't be sorry. That was fascinating. I think you did a fantastic job of explaining it!" Ellen said. "Whatever gave you the idea of trying to snap his neck? Fan of Bruce Lee movies or something?"

"No. I took martial arts lessons when I was younger. I'm a black belt. I was promoted last year. There are actually ten Dan levels to a black belt and I'm just a first level, Sho-Dan. I plan to keep on advancing up a few more levels, though. My instructor was former Special Forces and he sort of taught me a few more things than he probably should have."

"Oh my. So don't go messing around with you, eh?"

"Pretty much." Whittaker blushed again.

"Basically, then, you were saved by the fact that you have a long penis and a black belt. Hear that people? Size does matter." The audience laughed. "So out of curiosity, just how big are we talking about?"

Whittaker blushed bright red and covered his freckled face with his hand. I'd never seen Whittaker act so shy before. I wondered if it was an act or if the size of the audience made the difference.

"I'm sorry. I've embarrassed you. We'll move on." Ellen apologized. Then in her clever way, she slipped in, "just give me an over under. Ten?" she queried with her innocent little grin.

Whittaker shook his head a little and then poked his thumb upward a couple of times.

Ellen's eyes widened and she queried, "E-leven?" Whittaker grinned, put his hand out flat and then slowly turned it thumb upward. Ellen gave one of her trademark, wide-eyed looks of incredulity and suggested they go to commercial break, adding that hopefully, it wouldn't be an ad for male enhancement.

When they returned, Ellen changed course and questioned Whittaker about the work that he and his mother were doing in Washington to craft legislation to protect children in youth homes. He was very eloquent in his presentation and managed to get in a couple of plugs for the candidates that his mom was working with, including the guy running for governor of Montana. Apparently, the current governor, who was terming out, had been elected, thanks in large part, to Mrs. Whittaker's campaign management. Whittaker also slipped in a couple more shots about justice being served in mine and Billy's cases.

"One last question," Ellen said, leaning in toward him, "is there anyone special in your life right now?"

"If you mean like a girlfriend, no there isn't," Whittaker answered.

"Do you have a twitter account?" Ellen asked.

Whittaker looked puzzled but answered, "Yeah, why?"

"After today's interview revelations and your exceptional good looks, you'd better get an unlimited data plan, because your Twitter's about to blow up!" The audience erupted in laughter.

"He certainly was wonderful," my mom said after the broadcast.

"Yeah. He did a great job. I can't believe she asked him about his size. How embarrassing," Billy commented.

"I know," I agreed. "He wasn't exaggerating though, he really does have a huge one."

Mom shot me a questioning look when I said that and I explained, "I've seen him in the dorm showers." Of course, I had firsthand knowledge of his length, but I wasn't about to share that with my mother.

"That was the only part I didn't like. I don't know why she has to say things like that on her show. It's just to get a reaction from the audience," Mom complained.

"Reaction and ratings," I added.

"She's gay, you know?" Billy mentioned.

"She is?" Mom asked. "How do you know that?"

"Everyone knows that. She doesn't try to hide it. She goes out in public with her partner all the time. She's really helped break down some of the stupid attitudes about gays and lesbians," I explained. "She's helped people see that we're pretty much normal, just with a different sexual attraction."

"Oh, well. That's still no reason for her to be talking like that on TV," Mom said.

"I agree. Poor Whittaker was really embarrassed. Even though he tries to act like he doesn't care what people think about him, he's really shy and private. He puts up a good facade," I said. "He really sucks at flirting with girls."

"Maybe you need to bring him over for some lessons from the master," Billy joked.

"Maybe I should. I owe him a favor or two," I agreed. Mom just smiled and left the room, shaking her head at us.

I tried calling Whittaker after the show, but it just kept going to voicemail. I assumed he was getting blasted by media and possibly a bunch of girls who wanted to date him now he'd publicly announced how long his dick was. Maybe, there were even a few offers from porno producers. I gave up after a couple of hours and went running. I was just finishing up my second lap when I saw Colt come riding up the driveway on his bike. I groaned out loud.

I pulled up next to him and leaned over to support myself on my knees while I caught my breath. I'd finished at a fast pace and was panting.

"You're a good runner," Colt said, stepping off his bicycle.

"Thanks. What are you doing here, Colt?" I asked standing up to face him.

"I wanted to ask you to come to my rodeo tomorrow. I'm riding a bull."

"That's cool. But I don't think that's a good idea. Neither is you being here. Go home, please."

"I know. I'm sorry. But can you please come? My dad can't come but Scott's coming and I thought you could meet him."

"I'd love to meet your friend, Scott, but that's not a good idea either. Please just forget about me and leave me alone, at least until all this court crap is over with, okay?" I pleaded. "Besides, you don't need your dad seeing me there and getting all mad at you again, right?"

"I know. But my dad's not going to be there. I told you. Neither is my mom. He has to go on assignment out of town and mom's taking my little brother and going with him. Scott's dad is taking us. Scott's doing calf roping. Cool, huh? It's a junior qualifying event for the state finals coming up in June. It'd be way cool if you'd come. Please?"

"You're sure your dad or mom won't be there?" I asked.

"Yup, positive. So it'll be perfect. Please come. I need you Shane. I need you to help me when I don't know what to do. I can't ask my dad anything important. If I don't have you to talk to, I don't have anyone. Please. I want you to see me ride. I'm good at it. I want you to be proud of me for something and so you won't think I'm just a dumb, annoying kid who can't do anything except whine."

"I don't think that. Your dad supports your rodeo thing doesn't he?" I asked.

"Yeah, kinda. But he never tells me I did good, even if I win. Geez. He always tells me what I did wrong and he really yells at me if I mess up bad. He really gets mad if I cry after getting thrown." I saw the sadness in his face and body language as he confessed the last part. "He only wants me to do it because he did it when he was a kid and he thinks it will make a man out of me. Like if I do rodeo, I won't be gay. But that's dumb. They don't have anything to do with each other. Do they?"

"No, they don't have anything to do with each other. I still don't think it's a good idea. I really, really don't. I'll think about it. How about that?" I offered.

"Okay. Cool." Colt left his bike and surprised me with a hug." He stepped back and said, "Thank you for saving me from my dad last week. Thanks for being my friend and helping me out."

"You're welcome, I guess. Speaking of that, what happened that night?" I asked.

"Your mom said something to my mom that changed her mind," he answered.

"I know. Do you know what my mom told your mom?" I asked.

"Nope. When you guys left, Mom told me that she loved me and that I could trust her with anything I ever needed to tell her. Then she said it would stay our secret what happened with me and Scott. So it was just a regular night. After dinner, I headed straight to my room. Things have been okay since then. Like as good as it gets, anyway. Dad still says bad things about gays and stuff. He's on my case about school and rodeo and chores and stuff like normal. It's especially bad on Wednesdays. It's weird. It's like every Wednesday he has to work late and it must make him mad because he takes it out on me when he gets home."

"That sucks. I'm sorry, dude. Dads shouldn't be like that. Well I'm glad it all worked out okay with your mom, at least."

"Yup. Scott ended up coming over the next day and meeting my dad just like he wanted. I think my mom told Scott's parents something about not to mention anything about him going home early from the planned sleepover. Scott told my dad that he liked this girl in our science class. Plus, when Dad found out that Scott was into rodeo too, he really liked that. He's a roper and when Scott's dad came over to get Scott, they talked rodeo together and now my dad thinks Scott's okay."

"That's good then, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks to you."

"Thanks to my mom," I corrected.

"Yeah, I guess so," Colt agreed. "But you too."

"So will you come?" Colt asked, pleading.

"I can't promise. I'll think it over. Your dad will for sure not be there, right?"

"For sure. Mom's gone too and so's my little brother. I'm spending the night after the rodeo at Scott's house. Dad said it was okay. I'm pretty excited for that."

"That's a really big turnaround," I said. I was dumbfounded at the size of the turnaround. "So how's it going between you and Scott?"

"Great!" Colt exclaimed, "We hang out at school all the time now. He's awesome. Geez, we're bff's."

"Look, I gotta go in now and you need to get home so your mom doesn't start wondering where you're at."

"Okay. Thanks, Shane. See you tomorrow! At one o'clock at the Majestic." Colt called as he mounted his Schwinn and pedaled down our drive.

I shook my head in frustration and finished running down the dirt driveway until I reached the house. Kids his age had no comprehension of risk unless it was looming directly over them. The more I thought of it, the more I realized, I hadn't been too much smarter when searching for Steve. I could use a dose of better sense myself. I tried to reach Whittaker again, but there was still no answer. I decided to give up for a day or two.

Adam called and reviewed the strategy of continued positive publicity. He informed me that the interview of Daniel, the Yellowstone boy who'd seen me naked in the hall when I helped him get into his room, would be carried out on Thursday of the following week. He told me that because of the boy's age and the sensitivity of the alleged crime against him, the court had agreed to use two professional child psychologists to conduct the interview and have it videotaped for playing to the jury once the trial started. Each side would choose one psychologist and both interviews would be done the same day. The prosecution would go first. He told me that I needed to waive my right to be present. Everyone felt that it would not be good for me to be there, both upsetting to Kyle and probably inhibiting him from telling the complete truth. Since the truth was on my side, Adam felt it best that I not be present. I agreed.

"Prior to the interview," Adam informed me, "David Whittaker's mother will be meeting with Daniel's parents. She wants to explain to them the issues that surround a trial like this. His identity will leak out and there will be publicity. Unwanted publicity. There will be ramifications to Daniel for the rest of his life. There will be intense scrutiny of their lives and of Daniel's credibility. There will be investigations into their own lives and their parenting. She will offer to let them speak to other parents who have subjected their children to the process, all of whom will recommend dropping pursuit of the case."

"I don't want that to happen," I stated. "He's a good kid. I don't want his life messed up."

"That's not an option. We have to do what's necessary to keep you out of prison," Adam responded.

"Wouldn't it be better to just have him tell the truth on the videotape? If Mrs. Whittaker convinces his parents for him not to talk at all, I'll never be proven innocent. Everyone will just think he was scared to tell the truth."

"The best thing is for you to not go to prison. However that happens. Daniel not talking is your best shot at that. Do you want to go to prison, Shane?" Adam asked coldly.

"No."

"All right then. Let me direct things the best way I can."

"Yes sir."

Adam informed me that he would be in Billings on Tuesday to meet with Steve and wanted to know if I would be coming. I confirmed that my mother would be driving me there to visit with Steve. I was so excited, it spilled out like an overfull cup. Adam chuckled. "All right then," he said. "Be there by eleven. Dress nice. I may just let it slip to the local Billings media that you'll be there. We'll use it for some positive publicity if I decide to do it."

I agreed and hung up. I was elated that I'd be seeing Steve as early as the coming Tuesday. I shared Adam's comments with my family and they were also amused by my exuberance over my upcoming visit with Steve. Each day after that, was impossibly long.

When Friday night came, Billy came into my bedroom and sat on my bed. He was wearing only his boxers and he smelled of sweat and sex. A worried look occupied his brow. "What's going on between you and Colt?" he asked.

"Nothing. What do you mean?" I responded.

"Don't fuck with me. I just got off the phone with Jaime," he said. I wasn't surprised by that. I'd already figured that out from what I'd overheard. "She told me that she got a call and three texts from Colt on her phone. Colt asked her to remind you about coming to his rodeo tomorrow. What the fuck is that about?"

"Oh man," I grumbled. I then relayed what had happened earlier that day in our driveway. I stressed that I never committed to attend.

"Dude, you better not go. I'm serious. That would be crazy. You're not thinking about going, right?" he demanded.

"No. No way. Really. I'm not crazy. Even though he said his dad wouldn't be there, I still wouldn't do it." I answered.

"Okay. Cool. I told Jaime to tell Colt that if he didn't stop calling and texting her, she was going to tell on him to his dad," Billy informed me.

"That will scare him to death. You shouldn't have done that," I told him.

"I don't care. He should be scared. He's got a psycho for an old man. You should be scared too. Colt's got to leave you alone. It's for his good as well as yours."

"I guess you're right," I admitted.

"Damn straight, I'm right."

"Thanks, Billy."

"Welcome, dude. G'nite."

"G'nite."

On Saturday, I wondered all morning about Colt. I knew he'd be disappointed about me not coming. He'd sort of relied on me for advice he should have been getting from his father. He really wanted me to go watch him ride. He wanted someone who would give him positive feedback instead of just criticism. I was also curious about his friend, Scott. Still, I knew it would be a crazy thing to do and I knew Billy was right. I was going stir crazy at home all day every day, and the outing would have been a welcomed diversion. I started entertaining the thought that I could sneak in and watch from a distance and not let Colt know I was there until afterwards. Whittaker's comments kept haunting me. Maybe, helping Colt was part of what I was meant to do as part of making something good come out of the fucked up mess. I decided to go and pulled on a pair of Wranglers. Then, I thought it through and changed my mind again. I suited up and went running instead. Running always cleared my head.

As I rounded the three mile mark and came up on the small grove of trees out near the canal road, I saw a white truck parked up on the canal road. As I rounded the bend, a man stepped out and waved me down. I stopped and he asked if he could talk to me.

"What about?" I asked.

"I just have some questions about this sex ring case you're involved with. Just curious about some things," he answered. I got a suspicious feeling.

"Yeah, well, I'm not supposed to talk about it. Sorry." I started to take off again and he grabbed my sleeve.

"I understand," he said. "I just have a couple of questions for you. Nothing about the case. I heard that the David Whittaker kid, who was on Ellen yesterday, might have been having gay sex with the guy who was murdered. Is that true?"

"Look, I don't know who you are or why you want to know whatever you want to ask, but you're trespassing and you need to leave. I have no comment. I need to finish my run. Don't make me call the cops to get rid of you, okay?" I jerked free of the grasp he had on my sleeve.

"So it's true then. If it wasn't true, you would have denied it right off," he said smirking.

"I never told you anything except to F off," I responded. I pulled my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of him. Then I ran up the embankment and took a picture of the truck with the license plate. Then I ran back down the hill and saw the camera man in the trees filming me. "Don't come back!" I called as I ran off. "Or I'll send these pics to the police."

"Ooooh, scary!" the jerk mocked. "Have you seen his penis? Is it really as long as he led us to believe on the Ellen show?"

"Fuck off!" I hollered as I ran off.

That left me really unsettled. I wouldn't have thought much about a persistent reporter, but the question he asked really bothered me. I wondered if they were trying to drag Whittaker down and embarrass or discredit him for some reason. As soon as I finished my run, I tried to call Whittaker to let him know it had happened. He still didn't answer.

I saved the photos to my computer in my room and changed clothes. I looked at the clock. I could still make the rodeo. Part of me knew it was stupid but part of me wanted to be there for Colt, who needed me to care about him in absence of a father he could rely on. Billy's lecture rang in my ears. I paced the floor. Billy was gone somewhere unknown, Mom was gone to town and Dad was on a job across the valley. "Aww shit!" I exclaimed. "Shane, you better not regret this," I added to myself. I threw on some Wranglers, a plaid, snap up shirt and my boots. I grabbed a straw cowboy hat and my shades. I really didn't want any locals recognizing me there.

All the way to the rodeo grounds out of town on Highway 93, I vacillated. I slowed to turn around several times, but never did. When I arrived, I was a little worried how few people were there. It would be hard to hide in a crowd. It was just a qualifying event for youth rodeo so I should have realized there wouldn't have been too many there. I circled the lot a couple of times looking for any vehicles that might have belonged to Sheriff Withers. There weren't any Sherriff vehicles and I didn't see the blue Chevy pickup truck that had been in their driveway the night we went over with Mom.

I parked, walked tenuously toward the Majestic Valley Arena, and paid my three dollars at the door. I got my hand stamped with a star for re-entry. I walked in and found a place to sit away from the main entrance behind a pillar. I settled in and watched the barrel racer girls. I love rodeos. I kept one eye on the entrance. I scanned the crowd. Clearly, the only ones attending were family of participants. I assumed Scott's dad would be in the back helping Scott and Colt. I decided Scott's mom must have been one of about six different possibilities.

I wished they would hurry and get to the bull riding so I could see Colt and then get the heck out of there. The roping came up first. They announced the boy's name before they came out. I smiled at how long it took most of the boys to get even one rope on the calf. Finally, they announced a boy named Scott who was roping with another boy named Zach. They came bursting out of the chute chasing the calf and the header boy got his loop on the calf pretty quickly. The second boy took an extra few seconds to carefully time his throw and picked up both legs. The horses separated and made the ropes taut so the calf couldn't break loose while one of the boys jumped from his horse and tied three of the calf's legs up. The horses then slackened the ropes and the timer started. When the calf failed to break free, the buzzer sounded and the boys gave excited fist pumps as an arena attendant freed the calf from the ropes. The header boy was a cutie with curly blond hair and dimples. I heard Colt's distinctive voice let out a whoop from across the arena by the chutes. I watched as the header boy rode over and out of the arena. Before long, he appeared next to Colt. Watching them, it was clear that they'd become good friends. I was so happy for Colt. What I wouldn't have given to have such a friend like that when I was twelve. I could sense their friendship even from my distance and it sent shivers through me.

I bought myself a hot dog and a soda while I watched the rest of the ropers. When it was over, Scott and Zach had taken first place. Finally, the calf riding came up. I was surprised to see that they were mostly young boys. They went through the whole group and Colt didn't ride. Then the older boys, pee-wee's they called them, were announced. Only they rode full size bulls. Not the massive Brahma's like the adults ride, but still large animals. Colt was about the fourth or fifth rider in his age group. I was glad to see that they all wore helmets and body armor vests. It was impressive to see them hanging on for their lives as the bulls spun and bucked. They weren't anything like the crazy, wild-eyed steers that the adults rode but still, it took some hefty balls to climb on one of those beasts. I wondered if Colt was doing it because he liked it or just to appease his dad.

Colt did great, flipping his free hand and keeping his legs up high on the animal's neck. He lasted the full six seconds and when the whistle sounded, he released. Just as he bounced off the side of the bull, it spun the opposite direction and sent flying hoof into his gut, flinging him into the wall. The clowns quickly distracted the bull away from his limp body. I instinctively yelled out, "Colt!" accompanied by the gasps of the crowd. The medical attendants rushed in and spent about five minutes checking him over head to toe. I stood at the edge of the arena and watched, fearful for his welfare.

At last, he stood up, assisted by the medics and everyone clapped and cheered. He limped out of the arena, waving his hat to the cheering crowd. My heart started beating again and I let out the breath I'd been holding. A woman with two young girls touched my arm. "Do you know Colt?" she asked.

"Umm, yeah. Family friend," I lied.

"How nice. My son and him have become friends. He's a nice young man. So polite. I'm glad he wasn't seriously hurt. I think it's crazy for boys his age to be on full size bulls. But, I'm just a mother. What do I know? I refuse to let Scott ride them. Roping's dangerous enough for me."

"I agree. I expected him to be riding calves. I was shocked to see him on a bull."

"A young boy died last year riding bulls. Internal bleeding after being stepped on. It killed him. It's pretty frightening. What's your name?" she inquired.

A knot tightened in my gut. I was trapped. "Daniel," I lied. It was the first name to pop into my head.

"Nice to meet you, Daniel. It was sure nice of you to come support Colt. His father rarely misses his events, but he's out of town on some special assignment, I guess. I'm glad Colt's okay. I'd hate for him to get hurt on our watch. I was too stupid to even get insurance information for him. How silly of me is that?"

"Yeah. Like you say, good he's okay. Look, I need to be going, and it was kind of a surprise that I came by. So, umm, don't say anything to him, okay? I don't want to spoil the surprise."

"Oh, how nice. Of course, I won't let him know I met you, then. It was very nice of you to take your Saturday to come and watch him, though. Kindness must run in the family," she said.

"I guess. I really need to get going, so, umm, nice meeting you. Bye."

"Good-bye."

"Bye," the two little girls chimed in unison with a small wave. I waved back and then rushed off, heading straight toward my truck. Just outside the arena, I saw, to my dismay, Colt, Scott, and Scott's dad walking slowly my way. Colt was limping and holding his stomach. I wanted to rush to him, but I realized if he saw me, he'd call me by my real name and my cover would be blown. I diverted to a pair of portable toilets. The first one was occupied and locked. A young cowgirl had just opened the door to enter the other one. I jumped in ahead of her, grimaced and said, "Sorry. Diarrhea!" I pulled the door shut and locked it as she stared in disbelief.

She started cursing at me through the door. She might have been a cowgirl, but she was certainly no lady. To be fair, I wasn't much of a gentleman acting like I did. I waited long enough to allow Colt and his entourage to pass. When I deemed it safe, I crept out of the stinky shitter and sprinted to my truck. I got away and headed straight home. I parked in front of the house and quickly made my way up to my room undetected. I stripped out of my cowboy clothes and dressed back into running gear. I took another lap around the farm and thought about what I'd just done. I berated myself for the foolishness I'd just engaged in. I had to seriously consider what kind of masochistic character flaw I suffered under. Running helped. I was secretly glad, though, that I did get to see Colt in action. I was also happy to see that Colt clearly had a good friend in Scott. I prayed that Scott's mom wouldn't say anything about me being there, especially to her husband.

I stayed in my room and read Robert Frost poetry from the book Steve had given me for Christmas until Mom called up for dinner. After saying grace, the conversation started up as we passed the bowls of potatoes and beans and pork chops. "Where were you gone to all day," Mom asked Billy.

"I went to visit Jaime. Her foster family is really nice. She likes it there and she's doing really good. Her dad hasn't even tried to contact her. She says she's glad about that, but I can tell it really hurts her feelings."

"I'm pleased things worked out for her. She is a lovely girl," Mom commented.

"It's good you like her since I'm gonna marry her someday," Billy said. Dad smiled. I eyed Mom for a reaction. She didn't even flinch.

"I hope you're not thinking about that happening right away. You two are way too young to be thinking about marriage. You both have lots of things to do before you go doing that," Mom emphasized.

"Heck ya! I'm not saying we're getting married tomorrow or anything. I'm just saying when we're ready and done with college and stuff, we'll marry each other," Billy countered.

"If she's the one meant for you, then I'm sure it will last and work out that way. Just make sure you go about your dating the proper way. Be respectful and a gentleman. A courtship lays the foundation for the marriage. But you never know what will happen. You don't always marry your first love. In fact, you seldom do. But no love is ever fully lost. Pieces stay in your heart forever," Mom crooned. I thought that was one of the most romantically profound things my mom had ever said. I didn't know she had such deep thoughts.

As I'd dreaded, the conversation turned toward me and they all wanted to know how my day had gone. I lied and said it was uneventful and boring. I said I just hung around the house like every other day, a prisoner under house arrest of sorts. I couldn't see how telling them what foolishness I'd been up to would be helpful in any way.

Billy mentioned that neither of Jaime's foster parents could pick her up from school on Wednesday and asked if it would be okay if he gave her a ride home. "I don't know," Dad mumbled.

"Why not?" Billy asked.

"It's not like I'm not allowed to be around her. She just couldn't stay at our house is all," Billy argued. Dad relented and Billy smiled. I figured he had something more than just being a chauffeur in mind. I suspect Dad thought so too. Mom, on the other hand, naively thought it would just be nicest thing for Billy to do.

"Mom, you're still planning on taking me to Billings on Tuesday to meet with Andy and to visit Steve, right?" I confirmed.

"Certainly, dear. It's on my calendar."

"Thanks. I'm so excited to see him."

Mom smiled. "You really love him, don't you?"

"I really do. I think about him all the time. I hope he's okay." I caught Billy glancing at Dad for a reaction to my confession of love. He must not have reacted because Billy looked back down and filled his mouth with a heaping spoon full of gravy slathered potatoes.

"Maybe I should bake something for you to take to him. I bet he doesn't get many sweets in that awful place," Mom added. I could see her thinking over what she could make.

"Yeah, good idea," Billy interjected. "How about a cake with a file in it?" I snickered as did Dad. Mom scowled.

"They won't let me bring anything like that in. It's nice of you to think about it, though. I'll let him know you wanted to. That will make him happy," I explained. Mom looked disappointed. Her way of showing love and concern was to bake things. If a neighbor had a health problem, she'd take over a plate of cookies. If someone had a baby, she'd take over whole meals for the family for an entire week. It was just who she was. And as for us, there was a big dose of love in every meal she set on our table.

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I know there has been a long lag in between chapters. Lot's going on in the personal life. Hope you are all doing well and still enjoying the story. Hans. h.schreiber@hushmail.com

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