Genital Gymnast

The Genital Gymnast - Part Six

THE GENITAL GYMNAST Copyright © 2005 by Jerry Leckie — A well-endowed high school athlete, who considers himself straight, has resigned himself to being appreciated only for his "equipment," when he suddenly finds himself falling into an unexpected relationship with a fellow jock.

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THE GENITAL GYMNAST - PART SIX

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From Part Five, Chapter Fourteen -   "Don't reach for your weapon officer. Yes, I know who you are. I'm truly sorry that you're here. I would have preferred to dispatch these sons of Satan, these servants of the Antichrist, in private. Reverend Matthews and I didn't want to violate the holy scriptures by killing--we didn't have to kill the others--; but, now it will be justified," he waived his pistol in the direction of the burning church, "as I see that they have destroyed the house of God." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I will no doubt burn in Hell, along with these fiends, for killing you too officer; but, I don't mind, for I will still have many years to do more of God's work before I die."

There was a soft creak, a groan and the sound of shattering wood from the darkness above. Wideman looked up and screamed, firing a shot in the air as a six foot, fully loaded bookcase fell from the gallery above, crushing him to the floor. The three boys stood, staring at the scene in wonderment.

"Killian!" a voice screamed from outside.

"In here, John!" Bart yelled. "Holster your weapon! We're okay!"

Officer Wilson dashed through the door, his young face a mask of concern. "Bart! What the fuck happened? I heard a shot."

Bart gestured to the feet protruding from beneath the bookcase. "He got the drop on us, until that thing fell on him." As they stared at the scene, a large pool of blood began to spread around the bookcase.

Bart placed his hand on Wilson's shoulder to steady himself and gave Randy and Joe a crooked grin. "Guys, that was too fuckin' close for comfort."

The stunning events in the house had almost sent them into shock. For a moment of blessed relief and comfort, Randy pulled them into a group hug. It was only then, in the aftermath, that they became aware of the roar of the fire, the hiss of water from the fire hoses, the distant sound of sirens, and the muffled shouts of men running to and fro outside.

A flash, a movement, something, caught Randy's eye, and he looked up.

"Isaac?" he addressed the smoky darkness at the top of the stairs.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Randy," Isaac's trembling, other-worldly voice sounded, "what will God say? I saved you and Joe and Bart, but I have sinned."

Cautiously, Randy and Joe began to ascend the stairs. "Isaac," Randy said quietly, "I'm your friend, and I wouldn't lie to you. God loves you and wants you to be happy."

The boy's voice betrayed his tears. "Do ... you really ... think so?"

They had reached him by this time. His clothes were blood stained and dirty with soot. His arms hung at his sides and his eyes wore a look of exhaustion beyond bearing.

Randy smiled at him. "Yes Isaac, God wants you to be happy and to go away from this place, forever. Come with us now."

Isaac shook his head and seemed to shrink in upon himself. Staring down the stairs, he mumbled, "I ... I can't go down there. They are down there."

Joe placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's all right Isaac. You won't have to set foot where they are. I'll carry you." Isaac smiled tentatively at him. "You'll be safe. Put your arms around my neck."

Joe picked him up and they carefully made their way down the stairs, where Bart and John Wilson waited. Bart said, "Randy, is it okay if you and Joe take him over to your place for a while? This whole house is a crime scene. I've got to secure it until the experts get here."

Something made the hair stand up on the back of Randy's neck. He motioned for Joe to take Isaac away and turned to Bart. "What will happen to Isaac?"

The detective sighed. "You know as well as I do, he's guilty of arson and a double murder."

"But he did the world a fucking favor!" Randy said fiercely, "And, he saved our asses. We'd be knocking at the Pearly Gates right now if he hadn't pushed that bookcase over the railing."

Bart replied, "Look Randy, Isaac's in bad shape now. You saw what he did to his old man. But, if he's ever mentally able to stand trial, the law may see it another way."

Randy's eyes flashed with barely controlled anger. "Well then, the police and the District Attorney might think about a couple of things. The best defense attorney in the state works for my dad's law firm, and Joe's dad and uncle run the regional newspaper. If anyone comes near Isaac with a pair of handcuffs, they'll come down on them like ugly on an ape. You saw the power of the press at school today."

Bart would not be intimidated. "You guys do what you have to do. But, if Isaac is convicted of arson and premeditated murder, only an act of God can save him."

A terrible, agonized groan sounded, then a deafening crash shook the very foundation of the house, knocking them to the floor. The sounds of splintering wood thundered from the second story and billows of flame illuminated the top of the stairs.

Heavy boots sounded on the porch, and a fireman raced in, yelling, "The church steeple collapsed onto the house! This whole place is going up! Get the fuck outta here -- now!"

Bart, John and Randy scrambled to their feet and sprinted out of the house as it began to moan in its death agony. They ran about fifty yards down the street into the arms of their companions. Joe, Isaac and Mal Foxworth had joined Cliff, Lynn, Billy and Tom keeping a worried vigil at the edge of the police line. Everyone hugged one another, babbling words of comfort for a few minutes.

Bart pulled away from the group and stared at the house, now fully involved in flames. Randy joined him, placing a hand on the detective's shoulder. "God works in mysterious ways."

Bart grinned, without taking his eyes off the flaming house. "You may have something there, my friend."

Mal Foxworth approached, placing his arms around the boys. "Are you two all right?" They nodded and smiled. "I'm so glad." He hugged them and stared at the fire, his face bearing a genuine smile. "You know, I now believe that there is such a thing as Divine Justice. Joe told me what you found in the house and what took place there afterward. Isaac told me that this afternoon when he came home from school, he overheard his father talking to Wideman on the phone about finishing what they started with Joe. Isaac is a real hero in my book. He solved the case of Joe's attack and saved your lives."

Randy glanced quickly at Bart and said, "Mr. Foxworth, maybe we should get Isaac an attorney before he tells us anything else."

Everyone was physically and emotionally exhausted and there was nothing more to be gained by watching the fires. Randy invited everyone back to his house to get cleaned up and refresh themselves, and the Wades graciously opened their home to everyone.
Once there, Bart dismissed the officer charged with guarding the house, and phoned in a report to his watch commander. His superior told him to knock off for the night and get some well-deserved rest.

Bernice put Cliff and Lynn to work making sandwiches and Billy and Tom to setting the table, while she set out drinks. But, she refused to serve the refugees from the burning house until they showered and changed clothes.

"You boys look like chimney sweeps," she said primly. "You reek of smoke and sweat and you're covered in soot. Jack, go open the gym so these boys can clean up."

She retrieved T-shirts and shorts for Randy and Joe.  Billy, went back to his house for fresh clothes that would fit Isaac. Cliff and Tom did likewise for Bart and John. Then, Jack herded them into the gym behind the garage to shower and change.

Meanwhile, Mal called his brother, Gordon, to discuss the story that would be published in the morning paper. Once they agreed on the approach, he excused himself and went to his office.

Back in the kitchen, the freshly bathed ones joined the Wades and Cliff, Lynn, Billy and Tom around the dining table. They where exhausted beyond telling; nevertheless, they attacked the food with a vengeance. Between bites, Randy announced, "Dad, Isaac is in need of an attorney."

Jack pursed his lips and regarded Isaac. "How much money do you have in your pocket, Isaac?" he asked in his most professional voice. With wide, questioning eyes, the boy retrieved a paper bill and some coins. Jack held out his hand for them. "Let's see, one dollar, two dimes, a nickle and a penny. One dollar and twenty-six cents." He pocketed the money and gravely shook Isaac's hand. "Congratulations Young Man, that is exactly my fee to represent you in legal matters. I'm very pleased to have you as a client. All of the resources of our law firm are at your service."

Eyes still wide, the boy managed, "Thank you sir."

Jack smiled warmly at him. "It's my pleasure. Now, as your attorney, I want to caution you not to discuss anything that you have done today, or seen or heard--with anyone--unless I am with you. To make sure you understand, please repeat to me what I have just instructed you to do."

In a small voice, Isaac said, "I shouldn't say anything to anyone about what happened today unless you're with me."

"Good." Jack turned his attention to everyone else in the room. "And, for Isaac's protection, you should not repeat anything he has told you. In fact, don't discuss anything you've seen or heard tonight beyond what will appear in the newspaper." He smiled at Bart and John. "You are the exceptions, of course. You have your jobs to do." The two men nodded and returned his smile.

Now that they were properly fed, Bernice surveyed the group before her and chuckled. "You're all half asleep." She checked her watch. "No wonder. It's one o'clock in the morning and you've had a hard day. I think it's time everyone turned in."

Billy, Cliff, Tom and Lynn took turns hugging Isaac and murmuring their support before they took their leave. Randy looked at Isaac and said, "I don't think you want to be alone tonight, do you?" The boy shook his head. Randy nodded toward Joe. "Good, you can sleep with us."

Bart and John rose to depart and began to thank the Wades for their hospitality, but Bernice shushed them. "You're exhausted and in no condition to drive, so you're staying here. Randy, show them to the guest room."

Randy smirked at the wide-eyed peace officers. "Come on. Don't mess with my mother when her mind's made up."

Joe and Randy slept the sleep of the righteous for thirteen hours. They showered, dressed and stumbled down to the kitchen at two-thirty the next afternoon, leaving Isaac still asleep. They hugged Bernice and flopped down at the table while she set coffee and cereal before them.

"Are Bart and John up yet?" Randy asked around a mouth full of cereal.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. They left about an hour ago." She frowned. "And, they were kind of upset with me for the silliest reason." Joe and Randy looked at her in surprise. "Last night before I went to bed, I took all of your disgusting clothes out of the gym and put them in the trash--the smell of smoke can't be washed out of clothes. So, I threw them out, all except John's uniform--I took that to an all night dry cleaners--I thought it might help. Well, today was 'trash day' and the garbage truck came by about six this morning and took everything away. And Bart and John were upset that those disgusting things were gone."

Randy and Joe began to chuckle, then laughed until tears ran. Randy recovered quickly when he noticed that his mother was becoming angry. "Mom, they were upset because they lost Isaac's clothes. There was blood on them, his dad's blood. When the house burned down, it destroyed the ax that Isaac used. But, the blood on his clothes would have been at least circumstantial evidence that he killed his father."

She regarded him with a bewildered expression. He then told her the full story of what they had seen in the house. With a solemn face, Bernice slowly sat down at the table and stared into the distance for a while. The boys waited in silence for a response.

At length, she became animated, speaking in slow, measured terms. "I never liked that man, Reverend Matthews. He was a hateful man with little love in his heart and none to spare for his boy. I don't approve of killing, but in my heart of hearts I know that what Isaac did was justifiable homicide. By getting rid of his clothes, I may be guilty of obstruction of justice, but I don't care. That boy has been through enough! What he needs now is loving care, not a court trial."

Randy and Joe knelt by her chair, giving her a hug. "Mom, you're the best," Randy murmured into her breast. "Isaac deserves to live a life full of love, the kind you and Dad have always provided for me."

She looked down at him with new light in her eyes. "Thank you Sweetheart. You've given me an idea. I'm going to speak to your father about keeping Isaac with us. You and Joe are going to be leaving the nest in a few months to fly off to the university, so it's going to be lonely around here. Mal dropped by earlier today and said he would like to have Isaac live with him, but he didn't want the boy to be by himself during the day." She sighed. "And, he's going to need lots of loving care, twenty-four hours a day."

Randy exclaimed, "That's a wonderful idea, Mom. You've always had a soft spot in your heart for Isaac anyway."

"I'm glad you like the idea. I think your father will too. Mal is already making arrangements for a psychiatrist to examine him. And, he's going to take him shopping for clothes and other stuff he needs tonight."

Joe volunteered, "It looks like Isaac will be well taken care of."

She smiled warmly, placing her hand on his cheek. "He certainly will. And he has the best group of friends on Earth. I've been getting calls all day from the other boys wanting to know how he is."

She straightened, regarding them with a gimlet eye. "But, what I want to know now is, how are you two feeling?" Joe and Randy looked at each other and shrugged. "Well," she continued, "you look like hell."

They looked at her in surprise and whined, "Mooooom," at the same time.

She chuckled, as Mal Foxworth strolled into the room. "I'm entitled to my opinion, and Mal agrees with me. So, he's very generously made arrangements to restore you to your former selves."

Smiling, Mal hugged the boys and said, "Right. I'm sending you on an odyssey to rediscover yourselves." He turned serious. "In the last few days, you boys have seen and heard more than you should have, at your age.  And you need to recover from that." Smiling once more, he pulled them to their feet and pointed. "Your magic carpet awaits you."

He herded them to the front door and opened it. There, at the curb, was a sleek, black stretch limousine. The driver, in full livery, stood patiently by the open door.

The boys stared open-mouthed, eyes wide. Joe recovered long enough to mumble, "Uh, can we get in that thing dressed like this?" He looked down at his rumpled T-shirt and shorts and beat-to-hell sneakers.

Mal replied with a smirk, "Certainly you may. And you will need no luggage. This odyssey is magic and will provide you with everything you require." He and Bernice waived at them and said, "We'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The limousine deposited them at the carriage entrance of the Hotel Eureka, a most fashionable hostelry, ideally located equidistant from the business, shopping and entertainment districts of the city. A doorman in Beefeater livery called them by name and ushered them to the lobby and into the hands of a concierge.

The man also welcomed them by name and guided them into The Sophisticated Male, the hotel's upscale clothing store, where they each were fitted for tuxedo, business suit and casual wear, including shoes and all other accessories. Next, the concierge ushered them into The Sporting Male, to be outfitted for gym and swim wear. Now, fully equipped with outerwear, the next stop was the salon where they were treated to new hair styles, facials, manicures and pedicures.  At last, the concierge accompanied them to their penthouse suite.

He led them through the sitting room, where a fire burned cheerfully in the fireplace, into the dressing room. There, he introduced them to their valet, a distinguished looking, gray haired man. To their astonishment, he had just finished putting away the clothes for which they had been fitted less than two hours before.

"Ah, Mister Randolph and Mister Joseph, let me find you something suitable to wear for dinner."

Once they were dressed, in shirt, slacks, shoes and sport coats, the valet presented them to their butler, who bowed, called them by name, and escorted them down to an elegant restaurant, where he served them a light meal. After the satisfying repast, a handsome young man in livery escorted them back to their suite, into the capable hands of their valet.

He admonished them, "Now, Mister Joseph and Mister Randolph, allow me to dress you properly for the opera." Whereupon, he removed their tuxedos from the wardrobe. By this time, the boys were prepared for anything, and cheerfully accepted the man's service.

When he was satisfied that they were properly draped, he produced two small boxes. "I have been instructed to tell you that your fathers wanted you to wear these tonight as tokens of the high regard which they hold for you." He opened the boxes to reveal two gold watches, and bid them to remove the instruments. "If you please, young sirs, I believe each watch bears an inscription."

Randy and Joe looked at the backs of the watches and read identical inscriptions: "To my perfect son, love Dad." They gave each other shy smiles, tears glistening in their eyes, and donned the watches.

Ensconced in their limousine once more, their driver delivered them to the door of the opera house, where they enjoyed an excellent production of Turandot, from the vantage point of box seats of course.

Back at the hotel, they were escorted to the restaurant for a light supper, then to their suite, where the valet undressed them and wrapped them in comfortable robes. He said, in conclusion, "It has been a pleasure serving you, gentlemen. I've taken the liberty of turning down your bed and placing what I believe to be an excellent bottle of Champaign beside it. Have a pleasant evening." He bowed and departed.

Randy and Joe took their first look into the bedroom. It was richly appointed in warm colors and textures. To coin a phrase, it was sensuously inviting. The lights were low, soft music filled the space, the Champaign bottle chilled in a silver bucket, and two crystal flutes sat waiting on a silver tray.

As they entered the room, Joe took Randy's hand and murmured, "Seeing this room and knowing that I'm going to spend the night in it with you gives me a woody."

Randy said, "I know what you mean. This room is definitely made for making love." He turned to Joe with a solemn face and announced, "But something needs to happen before we sleep here ... because I've never declared my love for you."

Joe's mouth opened and his eyes went wide. Smiling warmly, Randy took his hands. "But I'm declaring it now Joe. I love you more than anyone on Earth. You've taken your place in my heart. I can't imagine living life without you in it. You're my companion, my confidant, my lover, and my equal partner." His voice was not entirely steady as he continued. "I'm in love with you Joe. You compliment me. And, I want to be with you ... forever."

Joe's face made a heroic effort to switch from tears to a smile. "Oh God Randy, I've waited so long to hear you say that. I fell in love with you right away, but I was afraid to tell you ... thought maybe you'd think I was moving too fast ... afraid I'd scare you off ..."

Randy pulled him into a hug. "Stop babbling and kiss me."

And, he complied. Their kiss was a marathon, and very expressive, encompassing everything  they felt for each other, down to the very fabric of their souls. It ended, leaving them breathless, weak-kneed and extremely aroused.

Randy muttered horsely, "Let's go to bed."

Joe gave him a crooked grin. "Let me undress you first." He pulled the cord on his lover's robe and slowly peeled the lush fabric from his shoulders. "Wow," he exclaimed softly. "I could undress you a hundred times a day and I would still have the same reaction, seeing you naked. Let's open the Champaign. I need to get myself under control."

As Joe turned toward the bed, Randy grabbed the cord on his robe, pulling the garment loose and off the boy's shoulders. He then beheld his lover's naked body, in all of its muscular, youthful glory. As he watched Joe uncork the Champaign, the sight of his beloved performing even this simple task caused his breath to catch in his throat. He knew then that he would be content to be with and watch Joe for the rest of his life.

The bottle opened with a crisp sounding pop. Smiling triumphantly, Joe turned, holding the wine and carefully filled the crystal flutes. He passed one to Randy and they drank, never loosing eye contact. Licking his lips, Joe's smile turned mischievous. "I wonder what a Champaign kiss tastes like?"

After they found out, Joe pushed Randy onto the bed. "Now, I wonder what a Champaign nipple tastes like." He took a sip and gently nursed one of the hard nubs crowning Randy's breast. Satisfied with his discovery, he proceeded to taste test the rest of his lover's body, even drinking the tart liquid from his navel and the foreskin of his penis.

All of Joe's ministrations had their desired effect on Randy. Within minutes, he was twitching and moaning with delight. But, he began to babble incoherently when Joe drew his knees to his chest, upended his bubble butt and anointed his rectum with Champaign.

He grabbed Joe's wrists and muttered, "Make love to me, please."

Joe's capricious behavior ceased immediately. His features softened and formed a loving smile. Setting the Champaign flute aside, his fingers began to carefully explore Randy's virgin territory. The thought of mating with the boy he loved almost brought Joe to orgasm. He held it back by sheer willpower.

While his fingers explored, he kissed his way up Randy's body, until he reached his goal. His tongue licked Randy's lips and probed for entry until the boy he loved accepted his offering. At the same moment, his lover also accepted his fingers, deep into his anal canal.

Both sighed softly and felt their passions escalate. Randy moaned, "Oh God Joe, this is heaven. Do it! Make love to me. I can't wait any longer."

Joe needed no more encouragement, for he wanted to mate with the man he adored, to be at one with him. He gifted his lover one last soft kiss, then knelt between his legs.

Randy grasped his knees and drew them close to his chest, watching the boy with lust-filled eyes. His breath came in short gasps, anticipating his lover's next move. His blood rushed to the surface of every erogenous zone of his body, turning his fair skin pink.

Joe raised Randy's butt and stuffed a pillow underneath. He leaned forward and positioned the head of his pulsating penis at his lover's rectum. Ready at last, his eyes sparkling with passion, he asked, "Are you ready for me Love?"

"Yes!" Randy gasped, barely above a whisper.

Joe smiled tenderly. "Then open for me, Lover." Randy expelled a huge breath, and Joe pressed forward, sinking, ever so slowly, into the boy he idolized.

"Oooo," they sighed at the same time.

Joe clenched his teeth, shut his eyes tightly and pressed on until he was completely inside his lover. When his pubic hair touched Randy's most private place, they simultaneously released their pent-up breaths, making involuntary sounds.

Randy pulled Joe down to him, wrapping his legs around the boy, holding him tightly. And they rested, for the very thought of their mating momentarily overwhelmed them.

Joe's head lay on Randy's shoulder. He wanted desperately to tell the boy what he was feeling, but the scent of his lover's musk, the touch of his skin and the moist warmth encasing his penis conspired to render him speechless.

On the other hand, Joe's scent and the touch of the boy's throbbing cock against his prostate loosened Randy's tongue. He lovingly stroked the hard muscles of his lover's back and crooned, "Oooo Joe, you feel so good in me. I had no idea it could feel like this." He squeezed Joe, hard. "We're together. We're one. You're in me. We're making love. Now I know what it really means. Oh God, Joe. I'm yours ... forever. Be with me always." He paused to catch his breath. "Take me Joe, now. Make me yours."

Joe roused to action and began slowly to pump his hips. His face was still buried in the hollow of Randy's shoulder. As his penis worked its magic, Randy's musk filled his nostrils, working its own magic on his libido.

Instinctively, he opened his mouth and licked the soft skin of Randy's neck, savoring the taste of his lover's sexual desire, inflaming his psychic and emotional energy, his instinctual biological drive. His hips pumped faster while his lips and teeth sought hungrily to devour his lover, body and soul.

At last, he found Randy's lips. He plunged his tongue into the boy's mouth, seeking to draw Randy's spirit from its resting place. At once, his mind's desire and his nerves fused, signaling the ultimate mating response. His head flew up, voice bellowed its mating call and his muscles froze as his reproductive organs spasmed, delivering his seed into his beloved.

When the contractions had subsided, tears streamed and he cried openly while he showered Randy's face with little kisses. His lover stilled him with a soft, loving kiss that went directly to where his soul lived. He opened his eyes and looked down at the boy, the willing, loving receptacle of his mating.

Renewed energy infused him, and he realized that his penis was harder than ever. Smiling down at his love, he murmured, "Now, it's your turn." He raised to his knees and placed his hands under Randy's hips, elevating them, and began to pump rapidly. In that position, each thrust of his steel-hard erection stroked Randy's prostate, sending electric-like charges through the boy.

Randy's eyes were wide, staring at the smiling face above him. His heart thrilled and his mouth moved wordlessly. He gulped air by volume as his body responded to the stimulation the love of his life was providing. He grabbed the head of his dick and began to squeeze rhythmically, in time with Joe's powerful thrusts.

As the sensations mounted, he clenched his teeth, his head thrashed from side to side, his chest heaved and his abdominal muscles contracted spasmodically.

Presently, he felt a single, total sensation building within him, one of memorable proportions. As the wave approached, he opened his mouth and a low keening sound emerged, gaining volume and pitch until he screamed and the orgasm washed over him. Ropes of semen rocketed from his penis. His body shuddered and his sphincter grasped and held Joe in place until the powerful sensation receded.

At last, Joe withdrew from his lover and gently lowered his hips to the bed. Beads of perspiration trickled down his contented face. He smiled lovingly at his mate and proceeded to lick Randy's body clean. As his talented tongue flicked the last drop of semen from the boy's chin, he was lying atop his love.

They embraced and Randy murmured softly. "Thank you Joe. I really don't have the words to tell you what I'm feeling right now."

"Neither do I, but I have the feeling that this will be a night we'll remember forever."

"Oh yes, the night you claimed me as your mate."

"As you have made me yours before. Now, we belong to each other." He smiled. "You need never perform as The Genital Gymnast again, unless you want to ... for an audience of one."

Randy chuckled. "I don't have to 'perform' for you. I get a woody just standing near you."

Joe laughed. "Thanks for the compliment, Lover." He frowned. "Did I hurt you?" he asked in a small voice, laying a palm on Randy's butt.

Randy grinned broadly. "Not in the least. I felt nothing but pleasure."

They slept, wrapped in a cloak of pure love.

Promptly at nine o'clock the next morning, they were awakened by the ringing of the telephone. Their butler wished them a pleasant day and asked for their breakfast order. He also advised them to dress for a gym workout.

By the time they had performed their morning ablutions--and fooled around a bit--and dressed, a stunningly handsome room service attendant followed the butler into the sitting room, pushing a table handsomely set for two.

After the meal, a flesh and blood Greek God, in the guise of a personal trainer, called upon them to join him for a spirited workout in the hotel's gym. This was followed by laps in the swimming pool, a stint in the sauna, a bout in the whirlpool bath, and a relaxing massage.

When they returned to their room, they found one change of cloths each laid out on the bed, and the balance of their wardrobe packed in brand new monogrammed luggage. They showered, dressed and stepped into the sitting room to find a sandwich board and soft drinks waiting for them.

As they wolfed down the last bites of the meal, their driver arrived to transport them home. They rode in comparative silence, each reflecting on the transforming experience of the past twenty-four hours.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

When the limousine stopped in front of Randy's house, they noticed Mal Foxworth's car parked in the driveway. The driver opened the door for them, then unloaded their luggage. They thanked the man and he drove away. As they strolled up the walk, Mal and Isaac stepped onto the porch to greet them.

The boys stopped and stared. Isaac's long blond hair had been barbered into a short style that perfectly shaped his head and smiling face. His flawless skin was now a golden tan that complimented the powder blue tennis outfit he wore. Their attention turned to Mal, who had undergone a similar transformation. He too was clad in new, beige tennis togs, wore a new hair style, and his customary pasty-white skin glistened with a tan.

Joe placed his hands on his hips and exclaimed, "Well, if you two don't look spiffy as all get out!"

They all laughed and greeted with hugs. Mal said, "You guys look like new men. I take it you enjoyed your odyssey."

"We certainly did Mr. Foxworth. Thank you very much," Randy responded.

"Yeah, thanks Dad. I take it you two went on your own odyssey," Joe surmised.

Mal gave Isaac the glance of a loving father. "That we did. We've spent the better part of the last twenty-four hours at my private club, my hair salon and my tailor's."

Joe smirked. "Uh, I don't mean to pry, but how did you guys get tanned so fast?"

Mal drew himself to his full height and arched an eyebrow, daring them to ridicule his explanation. "It's a miracle of modern chemistry and Yankee ingenuity. It's sprayed on. Don't laugh. It works. It's supposed to last a couple of weeks, while we get real tans playing tennis, swimming and sitting under sunlamps." He checked his watch. "And we're due on the tennis court in half an hour, so we'd better get going."

The boys gave Mal and Isaac parting hugs and carried their luggage inside.

They were stopped in the foyer by an animated Bernice, who showered them with hugs and kisses. "Oh, it's so good to have you two home. Did you enjoy yourselves? I hope you had lots of fun. Are you hungry? Don't Mal and Isaac look absolutely wonderful? Isaac's going to stay with us. Jack agreed with me wholeheartedly that we should keep him. He was all set to be sad when you boys ran off to college, but now he'll have someone to fuss over. I put all of Isaac's new clothes in the guest room. Oh, silly me. It will be his room from now on."

She stopped and took a deep breath, the first she had taken since she began speaking. "Oh, I almost forgot. You two have a guest waiting for you in the den. Go on in and I'll bring coffee for everyone."

They entered the den to behold Bart Killian waiting for them. He was dressed as they had first seen him: business suit, tie, polished shoes -- and his badge pinned to his coat pocket. This was Detective Killian. Knots twisted in their stomachs at the thought of the news he might possibly bring.

He rose and greeted them with a handshake. Bernice brought in a tray as they seated themselves.

"Your folks said that you would be returning about this time of the day, so I thought I would drop by and bring you up-to-date on the investigation," Bart announced.

The boys were giving him their grim-but-undivided attention, so he continued. "Yesterday afternoon, we obtained a search warrant and went through Ray Wideman's house with a fine toothed comb. And, it was very educational. It seems, some years ago, when Reverend Matthews brought Wideman to the Lord--so to speak--he created a Frankenstein, a religious zealot of unbelievable proportions. The guy was probably nuts to begin with, but the religious conversion gave his insanity purpose and direction."

He paused to reflect on his thoughts and took a sip of coffee. "Wideman was an interesting man in that he was able to present a perfectly normal face to the public, but also able to hold inside his religious outrage at a sinful world." He gave them a wry smile. "Fortunately for us, he expressed his darker side in a journal, which we have been reading. According to that document, it was Wideman that convinced Reverend Matthews to join him in attacking the gay students at the school, including you Joe.

"Day before yesterday, when he found out that you and Randy were boyfriends, he went more nuts than ever. He called Matthews and tried to convince him that you two had to die, or you would recruit other students into homosexuality. That's the phone conversation that Isaac overheard. But, he didn't stick around to hear all of it. He ran over here to warn you. What he didn't hear was that Matthews refused to go along with Wideman's plan. And, Wideman really went nuts then. According to his journal, he declared that Matthews had refused to do God's work and given himself to the Devil, an abomination to the Lord. That's where the journal ended."

Randy and Joe were wide-eyed. Joe managed, "So, what you're saying then is that he killed Reverend Matthews?"

Bart smiled and nodded and Randy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God it wasn't Isaac," he murmured.

"The time line is tricky, but we pieced it together, using Isaac's deposition--which he gave in the presence of his attorney, by the way. As Isaac headed over here to warn you Randy, Wideman was on his way over to the Matthews house with an ax. After Isaac left here, he sat on the church steps wondering how to go about telling the police on his father. While he was sitting there, he heard his father scream. He ran into the house by the front door while Wideman left by the back door. Of course, Isaac found his father splattered all over the kitchen. He says that he doesn't remember anything after that until he heard us talking at the foot of the stairs. He came out of his room just in time to hear Wideman threaten us, and reacted instinctively: He pushed the bookcase over the railing. And, the rest, you know."

"But, how did Mr. Wideman know we were there?" Randy asked.

"When he left the Matthews house, he drove over to your house Joe and bungled his break in attempt. We surmise that he was on his way here to kill you Randy when he saw the church fire and came to investigate. He must have been thrilled to have found both of you in the house."

Joe frowned in thought. "Then, who set the church on fire."

Bart chuckled. "That's what makes this investigation so weird. It wasn't arson. The experts say that an electrical short sparked a gas leak." He grinned at Randy. "As you said, God works in mysterious ways."

He checked his watch. "Look guys, I gotta go back to the station and turn in a report."

Randy stated, "Then you have nothing to charge Isaac with."

Bart said, sincerely, "No. Don't worry, no charges will be made against him. And, for all he's been through, I wish him well."

Bernice gave Bart a hug and kiss as he departed, then stood grinning at the boys. "You knew!" Randy accused with a smirk.

"Yep," she said, laughing. "I thought it would be better for Bart to tell you the story first hand." She checked her watch. "Now, Gordon and Elaine are hosting a party to celebrate the end of this whole mess, and it's going to start in about a hour. So, you guys run upstairs and put your things away, then get into some shorts, T-shirts and sneakers. And bring your bathing suits along."

An hour later, Stella welcomed the boys and led them to the backyard deck. The party seemed to be in full swing. Jack, Bernice, Gordon, Elaine and Mal were seated at a table playing cards. Linda, Cliff and Lynn were at another table chatting. Isaac, Billy and Tom were in the pool splashing around with three girls from the senior class.

Joe and Randy greeted the senior members, then joined the younger group at their table. Randy asked, "Who are the girls in the pool? They look familiar, but I don't know their names."

Lina chuckled. "They're straight friends of ours. We got tired of Tom and Billy making goo-goo eyes at us, so Stell and I made a deal with the girls. We told them there would be seven cute guys at the party tonight, and if they could figure out which three of the seven were straight, they could have them." She giggled and pointed and their eyes turned to the pool. The splashing had subsided, and each girl had paired up with a boy in the shallow end. "Looks like their radar is accurate."

Mouths open, Randy and Joe turned to Cliff and Lynn, who were now holding hands. Cliff smiled shyly. "Me and Lynn didn't want Isaac to be alone last night, so he stayed over at my house with us. He was still kind of strung out and required a lot of affection." He squeezed Lynn's hand. "Both Lynn and I were surprised at how easy it was for us to give that affection, considering it was a new experience for us. Anyway, after Isaac went to sleep, we cuddled up and ...,"

He blushed, and Lynn took over. "Uh, we cuddled up and ... continued," he said with a bashful grin. "Later, we got to talking and admitted how we've always really felt about each other." He leaned over and gave Cliff a peck on the lips.

Randy sat wearing a goofy grin. He glanced from Cliff and Lynn, to the three boys--now in earnest communication with the girls--, to Joe, and gave his mate a sweet kiss. "I guess the Genital Gymnast has lost his audience at last."

"Huh?" asked Stella, not sure that she really wanted an answer.

Randy patted her hand. "It's a long story. Maybe some day I'll write a book."

The End

A sequel to this story is forthcoming

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