Henri

Please find enclosed, Chapter two of my story called HENRI that I submitted some months back. I have proof read Chapters three and four and will be submitting them at later dates. To the reading public...please be mindful that donations to Nifty allow the archive to preserve and present future stories. Thanks. Ben Ezra Jacobson

HENRI

Chapter Two

The 4th of July celebration was fantastic. They rode rides, tossed rings to win prizes and bought raffle tickets...the winners were to be announced before the fireworks. The food was great. Some one had brought some wonderful fried chicken. The fireworks would be starting in about an hour. A man dressed in official uniform stepped to the microphone and announced the prize winners in the raffles. Tim Elderberry won a new shot gun in his raffle. Louella Stevens won the applique guilt and the third prize...a new Cannon camera was won by Tomas Chateau of the Chateau farms.

Tom did a double blink. "I didn't buy any raffle tickets," he said. "Hank was the only one who bought a ticket. I was standing next to him."

It is true...but Hank had put his uncle's name on the ticket because he himself, was a minor. Tom went forward to claim his prize as the family applauded and congratulated him.

"I didn't buy the ticket, I am telling you...Hank bought it...the camera rightly belongs to him," he said as he passed it to Hank.

"But technically, I can not have it...Tom. I bought the ticket for you."

"All right kid...I'll tell you what we will do. You can have my old camera...and I will keep this one. How's that? I'll teach you how to use it...and we can go on shoots together." He reached over an rumpled his hair again before putting his arm around Hank and sitting with him at the picnic table.

The holiday music started...as it grew darker...then there was a loud boom as the first aerial bomb exploded over head. People started huddling together on blankets and with lawn chairs. Tom moved to a chaise lawn chair and Hank sat down in front of him and leaned him back against his chest. The air grew quite chilly and someone tossed him a plaid wool blanket which he threw over his legs and up to his arm pits. Uncle Tom's body heat was keeping him plenty warm...and he felt a stiff dick poking him in the lower back. What a day this had been. More fireworks exploded in the air over them...a haze of red's, green's, gold's and blue's. The whole picnic ground took on the smell of burnt gun powder. People "ooo'd" and "ahhhdddd". Every time someone went "ooo" he leaned back against his uncle's erection and with the "awwwhhhs" Tom thrusted forward. They continued to tease and taunt each other until the celebration ended with a barrage of aerial bomb culminating the program.

Aunt and Uncle returned to the farm with Maurice and Maggie...and settled into Hank's room again.

"Sorry to push you out Hank," Uncle had said.

"Not a problem...Uncle," he had answered back... " I can bunk with Uncle Tom again tonight. It's just great to have you here with us."

Hank felt a little guilty because when Aunt and Uncle left for home on Sunday...he would be expected to sleep in his own room...and now that he had shared Tom's bed...he did not want to go back to sleeping alone. In the attic that night...all was calm and quiet. They had both had a lot of sex during the day...and although Hank thought he wanted more...when he rested his head on Tom's arm...he quickly went to sleep. Tonight he would have to be satisfied to sleep naked next to his uncle and dream of the days adventures.

The Camera

Tom's old camera which he had given to Hank was only about a year old. It still smelled new...and of course, Tom had taken excellent care of it. Since it was an automatic...all he had to do was to point, hold the button down half way to get it to focus, and shoot. Tom was generous with film. He bought him multi packs of film each week and the two of them shot pictures all over the county. Tom made him agree that they would not take pictures of each other naked...or anything that would tip off Hank's parents or anyone else of their escapades. When the photos came back...Tom would pick them up at the processor...but seemed always to conveniently forget what the cost of printing was.

School started after Labor Day and Tom persuaded one of the merchants to hire Hank to clean the store after school and to work on Saturday's washing windows and other custodial needs. Hank turned sixteen two weeks later...and started studying the drivers manual. It was Tom who went with him to practice driving...and two weeks after his birthday had passed...Tom got his drivers license. That was a proud day. His dad offered him one of the old cars in the barn...but Hank politely turned it down. He wanted to drive Tom's truck...which Tom always seemed to let him do. In truth...while Hank drove his uncle's old truck...Tom was driving one of the old cars in the barn. Not every kid wants to be seen in an old Rambler American station wagon.

At school, Hank became more involved with his fellow class mates and as he practiced the communication skills that his uncle had coached him in...his circle of friends grew. He learned when to speak and when to remain silent. Some of the girls noticed that his skin had cleared up from the last year's acne, even though some of the scaring was still present. He learned that the scars did not show so much when you flashed a big smile at them.

Still there were a few of the bullies around...and for the most part, they left him alone. One evening while he was working at the store after school...two of them sat on a bench across the street from where he was working and waited for him to get off work. He had seen them there and wondered if he should go out at quitting time to confront them...or try to slip out the back door. He decided instead to call Tom.

"You want me to bring you what," Tom asked?

Hank repeated his request. About thirty minutes later...when it was time to close the store...his uncle pulled up in front of the store in the old Rambler station wagon...and took a pitch fork out and an old twelve gauge shot gun, as Hank left the store after locking the door. He noticed that his two pals had suddenly disappeared. The next day at school...there was a rumor going around that Hank had a body guard. Some of the bully types began to taunt him. He only smiled and walked away.

On Saturday, while Hank washed store windows, Tom took his camera and his fishing pole and headed to the lake. He had heard from some of the other kids that hank's two bully buddies were going to be fishing at the lake. So, Tom parked a ways back and walked in early...found a secluded spot on a slight knoll and sat down to wait. Sure enough, the two showed up along with two girls who were good matches for them. They fished a bit...and broke out some cigarettes and some beer that they had stolen from a local convenience store. As the morning continued...there was less fishing and more drinking until they had the idea that this would be a good morning to have a friendly fuck with the girls. There they were...buck ass naked on a couple of ratty old blankets...riding the girls for all they were worth. All of them were so drunk...that they could hardly complete what they had started. Tom's camera with the telephoto lens was

shooting photos as quickly as he could. In a matter of about fifteen minutes...he had shot a dozen rolls of film. It was tempting to use his cell phone to call the sheriffs office and report the incident...but decided against it.

The fishermen and their girls...finally made it back to their car and left. Some time later Tom returned to the farm...where he developed the photos himself. When Hank got home...he saw the photos Tom had taken and asked for a couple of them to take to school with him on Monday.

Monday

Hank had been at school about thirty minutes when one of the bully buddies intentionally bumped into him in the hall way and knocked him down.

"Watch where you're going Pee Wee...and stay out of the way of real men," he had said. Buddy number two came to his friends assistance. "Hey Fag face...we don't need your kind wandering our hall ways. Why don't you and your people go back to "gay" Paree!"

Hank got up and looked both of them in the face without a word...opened his text book and took out the two photos from the lake on Saturday and handed one to each of them . They were immediately ready to beat the tar out of him.

"Look guys...you have been picking at me for no reason...and I am not going to tolerate it any further. One more mean move on your part...and the rest of these photos will go to your parents, the principal, the school board, the girls parents, the liquor store that reported the robbery on Saturday morning, the sheriff's office and the newspaper. This is your only warning." And he walked away.

It sounds too simplistic...but it worked. When Hank walked down the hallway...the other two looked the other way. If they made any comments...it was not loud enough for him to hear. One of his friends asked if he would really do it.

"If they don't abide by my terms...hell yes, I'll do it. They will get some time for rape, alcoholism and stealing. You bet I'll do it."

For a few days, the halls were ablaze with rumors...but it died down by the week end. The following week, Hank was summoned to the principal's office.

"Hank, these two boys are accusing you of blackmail. Do you know anything about it," the principal asked?

Hank turned to the two. They were doing the squinty eye intimidation trick on him. "It's true Mr. Mitchell. They committed a crime and have been harassing me over the photos of it. I told them that unless they left me alone and quit the bullying...I would turn the photos over to the authorities."

Hank turned to the two again, and said, "You two didn't believe me, did you..? You had to try to have the last word. Our deal is off...and it is by your own choosing."

"Fuck you, Fag face," one said.

Principal Mitchell looked at the photos they had and then phoned the police. Turning to the two, he said, " It looks like you had an escape free card... boys...and you chose to blow it. Your intentions to bully and hurt a fellow student overtook your own common sense...and you willfully chose to try to hurt him, and in doing so...gave up your cover."

"He'll pay for what he has just done," one of the two shouted back.

"Well, it looks to me like you will be doing the paying," said the principal.

Hank took several more of the photos from his binder and handed them to the principal. One of the boys tried to grab them...but Mitchell was too quick for him. A couple of the witness teachers grabbed the boy and forced him into a chair. When the police arrived...the two were arrested and the photos turned over to them.

The confrontation exhausted Hank. When his parents and Uncle Tom arrived...the principal rehearsed the event with them. The other two boys parents also arrived. Hank expected them to be as belligerent as the boys had been...but was surprised when the other parents broke into sobs and apologized to everyone in the room for their boys behavior. This display of contrition made an impression on Hank. Just because one person is messed up...doesn't mean they came from a dysfunctional family.

The two bullies did not return to school. They had stolen beer from the local convenience store. The girls that participated so freely in the Saturday morning sex adventure...accused the boys of raping them and the whole sorry scenario turned out much worse than expected. Because they were sixteen and seventeen...they were tried as adults. Their sentences were severe. They did not return to the community and the parents did not stay. Everyone lost in this deal.

Things settled down for Hank. Some of the kids who at first stuck up for the bullies...changed their tunes quickly when the two were incarcerated for rape and theft. Hank's freshman year passed calmly for the rest of the school year.

Seventeen

The sophomore school year started after Labor Day and two weeks later, Hank celebrated his seventeenth birthday. He continued to work after school and on Saturday. Uncle Tom was still living and working on the dairy farm. He was now twenty four years old. He and Hank, although sleeping in separate bedrooms...found opportunities to spend time together...intimate time, but Tom's countenance began to change. There was a restless air about him that triggered Hank's suspicion that his uncle was getting restless to move on.

Tom announced one evening at dinner that he was going to join the military. This war in the middle east called Desert Storm was sounding like an adventure to him...and his patriotic sense was beginning to call his name. Hank had a hard time with this.

"Please don't go Tom. I need you here with me. Please do not leave us," he begged his uncle.

"Hank...I have to go. My country needs me. I need to find a new purpose in life. It has been great these last two years with you...but it is time for me to move on. You will do OK here. When we get that mess settled...I will come back and spend more time with you."

Hank's parents were not too excited about loosing him from the farm either. Although they were generous with his salary...the lose of dependable help was a great concern. Tom seemed more like Hank's brother than his uncle. But he had his mind made up...and his departure date was set for two weeks. In this short span of time... Hank would have to spend as much time with Tom as he could...because it would likely be a long time before they saw each other again.

Every night after everyone was in bed...Hank would steal up the steps to the attic and crawl into bed with his uncle. Though there was only seven years difference in their ages...Tom had become the brother Hank had never had...and parting with him now...was not going to be an easy task

The Departure

The departure date arrived. Hank had spent all night in the attic with Tom...and cried when Tom had fallen asleep. They had agreed...no emotion at the railway station. Tom gave Hank the keys to his truck and told him to enjoy it while he was gone. He promised he would. Before going down to his own room, so his parents would not know that he had slept naked with Tom for the last time...they held each other in a long embraced and kissed many times...and then it was over. Back in his own room, Hank grabbed his robe and headed to the bath room for a hot shower. The hot water cascading down over him made the rest of his body as red as his eyes. By the time he was cooled down and dressed...the signs of tears were gone.

As the train pulled out of the station and the Chateau family stood on the platform waving until it was out of sight...Maurice noticed that Hank was wearing Tom's cow boy boots.

"What gives, Hank? How come you're wearing Tom's boots," he asked?

"He told me to take care of them while he was gone, Dad. He gave me the key to his truck and signed the title over to me. I didn't want him to go. He became my brother. I didn't want...," but Hank's voice cracked at this point...and he could not finish his sentence.

His dad patted his shoulder...and told him to go on then. Tom is old enough to know what he wants.

"Mom and I will see you back at the farm. We have some errands to run," his dad said...and they parted company until evening.

Hank just laid around the house for a couple days. He could not bring himself to go to school. When the office called about his absence...his dad explained that his "brother" had left for military service over seas and Hank was just too upset to leave the house. The school accepted the explanation since it was Mr. Chateau that offered it...and nothing more was said. On Saturday, Hank returned to work at the store...and worked all day. The owner told him that if he needed a few days off...he could arrange for a substitute...but Hank said that he could work...and work...he did. In retrospect...he thought that working after school was one of the things that kept him going.

The autumn passed and turned into winter. By Christmas, Tom was over seas and operation Dessert Storm was well underway. Letters came at a fairly regular pace. For everyone addressed to the family...a second was enclosed to Hank...and was sealed tightly. Maurice and Maggie never pried into Tom's messages to Hank. They always opened the family letters for the first time... in front of him...read the message and handed Hank's personal letter to him...but never asked any questions.

One Day Hank asked, "Mom...do you ever wonder what Tom writes to me"?

"Of course Hank...but we also know that if he wanted us to know what he writes to you...he would have attached it unsealed in our letter. It does not matter, he writes to whom ever he chooses. What he says to you is for no one's eyes but yours."

"Thanks Mom," he said.

Tom spoke of his assignments over seas...in as much as he could lawfully share, asked if Hank was taking care of the truck and did his boots have many scratches yet. Hank was proud to keep him posted of the low miles he drove the truck and that he had cleaned and polished the boots every time he wore them. Tom did not intend for Hank to give them back when he returned. They were his now to do with as he pleased...but it was good to know that he took care of them.

The winter was a particularly cold one...and passed slowly. Hank continued to work after school and wondered if spring would ever get here. When it arrived, he wondered the same thing about summer. On the last day of his sophomore year in school...he accepted an invitation to a party at a classmates lake house. This class mate was Marietta Loggins, a pretty girl in a plain sort of way. She was a scholar and quiet. She had become friends with Hank during the Christmas holidays when he had asked her to dance at the school Christmas party. He knew very little about dancing...but she knew a great deal about it...and was willing to tutor him. They had a couple of practice sessions at her house with other friends.

Marietta was "old maid school teacher" material...but despite her quiet nature, she and Hank seemed to click. She coached him in math and biology and he agreed to take her to her sorority dance where the girl asks the boy. Surprisingly enough...they had a good time together. They went to the movies several times together and now he was to be her guest at their summer house on the lake.

Marietta's parents and another couple hosted the party and chaperoned it. They had an outdoor kitchen on the deck overlooking the lake. Food was very abundant. In fact, outside of a local buffet restaurant...Hank had never seen so much food...all geared to teenagers taste.

"What are you going to do for the summer Hank," Marietta had asked?

"Dunno," he replied, "Keep working at the store...I guess. Also want to get out and do some photo shoots...maybe to enter in the county fair. How about you?"

"Well, I am home for a few weeks to relax and get ready for a summer seminary at St. Catherine's in the Woods in Minneapolis," she had responded.

"What kind of place is that? I've never heard of it," he answered back.

She laughed, "It is a convent college for Catholic girls, Hank."

"No kidding," he said. "I didn't know that you were Catholic."

"Yeah...but not many of us in school...and I don't talk a lot about it," she answered him back.

"Why not? There's nothing wrong with being religious," he stated.

"Are you religious, Hank? I don't remember you ever talking about it before."

Hank coughed, surprised that she would say something like that to him, "well, I believe in God...if that is what you mean...and I have read parts of the bible in Sunday school class when I was a kid...but I'm not a card carrying Christian if that is what you mean. I believe...but I don't preach to other people about what they should or should not do or think."

"I' m sorry...I have embarrassed you," she said.

"Naw, it's just not something me and my friends have talked much about," he said trying to smooth her feelings. "I try to respect everyone's ideas because there is so much that I don't know. You know...better to remain silent and thought a fool, than speak and remove all doubt," he chuckled.

"I don't think you're a fool, Hank. I don't think that at all..." she said to him.

He cleared his throat, faked a couple of coughs and changed the subject, "So tell me about St. Catherine's. What kind of school is it...besides being girls only."

"Well," she answered back, "It is like a finishing school for girls only it is a starting school for Catholic girls that want to..."

"Yes," he said.

"A prep school for Catholic girls that want to enter a convent," she finished.

His expression must have shocked her because she burst out laughing.

"Oh Hank, if you could see the funny look on your face."

He laughed, " Am I being a freak?"

"Of course not...but you could not look any more surprised if I had thrown a glass of water in your face."

"We've been friends for most of our sophomore year, and gone to dances...but I must be really dense...because I never once got the idea that you wanted to be a nun when we graduated."

She smiled and chuckled, "Yeah, kind of shocking, isn't it?"

"Not at all," I just never picked up on it. "This is great though. If that is your dream...then go for it."

"You really feel that way," she asked, smiling.

"Yes...we all have our dreams and plans for the future. You're one who knows what you want... what could ly ahead. I think it's cool. Most of us don't know what the future holds until it reaches out and grabs us."

She reached out and took his hand. " I knew you would understand, Hank. What do you want for the future," she asked?

"You don't want to know, Marietta. It is too foggy for me even to see."

His face went sort of expressionless. "I thought I knew what I wanted...and then it vaporized before my eyes. I have not dared to dream since then."

"Can you talk about it," she asked him.

"That's the sad part. I can't," he said.

Again changing the subject, he said, " I see a lot of our friends here tonight...but there are some others that I do not believe I know."

"Well," she said, " I think I can fix that. Wait here."

She got up and walked to the other side of the patio and spoke to her guests and brought them over to meet him.

"Hank Chateau, may I introduce you to my brother Pete Loggins and his college room mate Tim Kotter," she said.

Hank stood up and shook hands with both of them.

Marietta spoke again, "Pete, Tim...sit..!" They both laughed and took a chair at the table.

"That's my sister," said Pete, "treats me like a dog." Everyone laughed.

"Pete and Tim are freshmen at St. Paul's. Pete is a Fine Arts major concentrating in theater, and Tim is an Education major, studying to be a Chemistry instructor," she continued.

"Chemistry," Hank questioned, "You must be really smart. I barely passed biology this year. If it had not been for Marietta...I would have bombed out the first quarter." They all laughed again.

"Well, that's my dream," Tim said, "But to tell you the truth...I'm not a scholar. I keep praying for a higher I.Q. and a better memory...but Father Samuel says it is not likely that my prayer will get answered with out a lot of work on my part." We all laughed again.

Hank found himself becoming more relaxed. He liked Marietta's brother and his room mate Tim. They were funny and happy go lucky...the perfect antidote to the gloom he had felt since Tom joined the military and left.

The conversation turned to vehicles.

"What kind of car do you drive, Hank," Tim asked?

" It's a truck...an old one...that Tom, my brother...well, actually...my uncle...gave me when he went off to war," he responded.

"You're brother's uncle," Tim repeated.

"My uncle. He is seven years older than me...and he was more like a brother than an uncle. I have called him my brother for years," Hank explained.

"Was...," Pete asked, " ...is he deceased?"

Hank turned white as a sheet.

"I'm sorry," said Pete, " I had no right to say that. It was stupid of me. I apologize."

"It's OK Pete," Hank responded back, "no..., Tom's still alive or I think he is. He is over seas participating in Dessert Storm. We have not heard from him in three weeks."

"Hank... that explains why you could not speak to me about him earlier," said Marietta. " I am so sorry. How insensitive of me...I didn't know he was missing."

"HE'S NOT!" Hank nearly yelled at them.

The other people had all turned to look at Hank. His face had gone from white to fiery red. Getting up quickly he said to them..., "Excuse me...forgive me...I can't talk about this right now," and he walked away from them and headed to his truck. At the truck, he put his head down on the side of the truck bed and felt the tears flow down his cheeks.

"I can't deal with this now...I just can't deal with this now."

His head ached, his eyes burned and his legs felt like rubber bands. He wondered if he had the strength to open the door and climb in. As he grabbed the door handle...everything began to grow dark. He could not hear the music or the voices speaking...there was just blackness...and nothing.

Kindness

The blackness began to turn to grey and then some fleeting passes of light. He could begin to hear voices at a distance. Some one was putting something cold and damp on his forehead. The light was softening but getting more plentiful and outlines of faces were over him. The buzzing of voices began to get more distinct. Hank reached up to touch his forehead and found a wet compress lying there.

"What happened," he asked.

Mrs. Loggins was looking down at him. "You passed out dear...next to your truck. When you hit the ground...you hit your head on a rock. You have lost some blood. We have called Dr. Johnston... down the road from us and he is on his way. We have also called your parents. Just lie still and rest."

Marietta was all upset about the accident. "It was my fault...I should not have asked him personal questions about his uncle...his brother...his uncle. I didn't know that he was over seas fighting in the military...and I did not know that he had not contacted his family in three weeks. If I had not pried into his personal business...this might not have happened."

Hank reached out and grabbed her hand. He said nothing but just squeezed it gently. It had a calming affect on her. The doctor showed up at the same time as the Chateau's. After a thorough examination of Hanks head and back...the doctor told them to keep him awake for the next three or four hours...and then if he wanted to sleep a little, it would be ok if someone would wake him up every hour to see that he was ok. Dr. Johnston suggested not moving him until morning...and that he would return in the morning to check on him The Loggins insisted that he stay with them through out the night. It was decided that he would be put in Pete's room and that Pete and Tim would take turns waking him every hour on the hour. Maurice and Maggie Chatteau had reservations about leaving him with the Loggins and the care he would require as their guest...but Mr. & Mrs. Loggins assured them that they would call if there was any sign of a problem.

It was nearly midnight when they got Hank down the hall to Pete's room. Pete insisted that everyone leave the room while they got him ready for bed. Hank's memory was getting back to as normal as it could considering the blow to the head he had received in his fall.

He helped Hank out of his shirt and jeans...and asked if he wanted a pair of pajamas or to sleep in his shorts. His eye lids went up when Hank told him he slept without anything on at home.

"Not a problem, Hank. What ever you want is fine," Pete assured him.

"You won't think I am some kind of freak or a pervert will you," he asked?

"Hell no man," Pete replied, " I quit sleeping in underwear or p.j.'s when I was twelve.

They both laughed. Hank slid his boxers off and his socks and turned to Pete... "I need to pee before I get into your bed. Will you help keep me steady so I don't fall over."

"Sure thing, put your arm around my waist...and here we go," Pete supported him...and he stood next to Hank while he let go a heavy stream into the toilet.

As he helped him back into his bed, Pete pulled the cover half way up his chest and said, "pretty big cock for your slight frame. Good job."

They both laughed...but sleep over took him and in just a few seconds he was out like a light.

Awakenings

Pete woke Hank at 1:00AM and asked him to count to ten. Hank grumbled but did so, then went back to sleep.

At 2:00 AM Tim woke Hank up and asked him say the Pledge of Allegiance to the American Flag...which he did before turning over and going back to sleep. At 3:00AM Pete woke him up again but at 4:00 AM...Tim was out like a light so Pete woke Hank up again and asked him to count to ten.

"You count to ten Pete...I'm going to the bathroom to pee." They both laughed. Pete helped Hank out of bed and walked with him to the bathroom. He placed his hand around Hank's chest to keep him from wobbling...and waited for him to pass urine.

"It's so damn difficult to pee with a hard on," Hank mumbled. He was pointed to the ceiling.

"Whoa...man, you better point that thing to the bowl or you're going to tag the ceiling." Again they both laughed. Hank pointed downward as best he could. "It is not easy to bend a stiff dick," he answered back. The urine stream brought him back down...but still he projected outward in a nice arch.

" Pete, I would appreciate it, if this bit of conversation stayed just between the two of us," he said.

"I was thinking the same thing," Pete answered him back.

Hank laid down on the bottom sheet and Pete covered him with the top sheet...then instead of going back to the cot he had set up next to the bed...he came around and laid down on the bed next to Hank. Hank opened his eyes. The room was dark. He reached out and grabbed his hand and said, "Tom...when did you get home..? I have missed you buddy. I have so missed you."

"No Hank...it's Pete, I just helped you to the bathroom remember," Pete said to him.

"Yeah Pete...thanks. Just thought for a minute my uncle was back home...sure do miss him," Hank whispered.

"What can I do to make you more comfortable," Pete asked.

Hank laughed, "nothing...but thanks for the kind offer."

At 5:00 AM, Pete woke Hank up again...and as he was coming out of his sleep...still caught in the tail end of his dream, he said,

"One more time Tom before sunrise...come on."

Pete shook him gently again and said, "Hank...I need you to count to ten again."

Hank opened his eyes. "Was I babbling while I was trying to wake up?"

"Not a word, Hank...not a word," he said.

"Well I was sure thinking a lot of them," he laughed.

"It's OK, my friend...go back to sleep for a while," Pete said and put his hand on Hank's shoulder. Hank smiled and closed his eyes.

Pete lay next to him...wide awake until 6:00 AM. He listen to his steady breathing. As the sun lightened the room...he looked at Hanks face. He had a nice face. His dark brown hair was in a bit of a thatch. His skin was more of a bronze color even though he did not work outside as much as inside at the store...and he had thick whiskers that could have produced a nice beard if he had been inclined to let it grow. He already knew that Hank was hairy and his groin hair was straight...rather than curly like most of his friends. He would have to say that Hank was a good looking kid. Hank however had always considered himself plain bordering on ugly. Tom had made him believe that he was very nice looking in a clean cut sort of way. But Tom was not here anymore.

Hank became a little restless and rolled from one side to the other. He reached out his arm and touched Pete's wrist. Pete, already wide awake...took hold of Hank's hand and held it in his. Hank quit thrashing. He squeezed Pete's hand and Pete squeezed back. A smile came over Hanks face and he rolled closer... right up to Pete's shoulder...put his head on Pete's shoulder and said, "Tom...I am so glad you are home." Then he went back to sleep.

Pete knew he should wake him for the 6:00 AM counting...but he decided to skip this one and let him sleep. Pete reached over and pushed the hair back out of Hank's face. Hank, sort of made a purring sound and said, "Thanks Tom."

Tim still had not awakened...and Pete let him sleep. He lay next to Hank and let him lean his head on his shoulder. He could smell the scent of soap that Hank had showered with last evening and he could feel his warmth next to him. Pete had been raised strict Catholic...and he grew up with the teaching that Catholic youth did not have sexual involvement with young girls outside of wed lock. He had never thought too much about what it would be like to be attracted to a male figure. He had been curious about having a buddy that you were so close to, and that you trusted so surely, that you could masturbate with each other watching, but he had never been this close to another guy. The scent and the body heat stirred him. He never let himself think outside the traditional box of dating and marriage and rearing a family...but he had not really given much thought to seeking out a girl to marry. After all...marriage was for a long

time...and divorce was not an approved policy in the church when one was not happy.

Pete was still in his slacks and sports shirt that he had worn last night. He was now under the sheet, next to a naked boy. At one point...he lightly ran his hand over the top sheet that covered Hank's hardware. Hank was at full mast...and it had sent chills up and down his spine.

Pete rolled over on his right side away from Hank's body. He felt Hank scoot closer...he was like a radiator. Hank reached over Pete's body and put his left hand over Pete's left hand and mumbled, "What's the matter Tom...why you pulling away from me. Have I done something wrong?"

Pete interlocked his fingers with Hank's and said, "no buddy...you're fine...nothing's wrong." Hank relaxed and went back into a deeper sleep.

The big Grandfather clock in the hall struck 7:00 AM. Pete jumped like he had been shot. He pulled his hand away from Hank's and sat up. Tim was still sound asleep and so was Hank. "Oh, Shit"...what if someone had seen him holding Hank's hand..? Fortunately no one had done so...but suddenly he was very self conscious. He shook Hank slightly...and said, "Hank...how are you doing?"

Hank opened his eyes and rubbed them with his hands. Ok, I think...but man I dreamed the craziest stuff last night. I thought my uncle was home from Dessert Storm and I was talking to him through out the night. I have been worried because he has not communicated with us for nearly three weeks...but after these dreams...I am convinced that he is alive and OK."

"I am sure you are right," said Pete. "Do you need to go to the boy's room before the morning starts?"

"Yeah, I do," he said, "Will you take hold of my shoulder so that I don't topple over into the toilet?" He laughed.

"Sure," said Pete, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Pete looked him directly into his eyes. Their gaze held for a split second but it seemed like a whole minute. Hank smiled...but said nothing and Pete put his arm around him...across his chest and held him against him so that he would not loose his balance. Once he had passed his liquid, he went back to bed for a few minutes.

"Just lay here Hank...I am going to check on Breakfast."

Hank pulled the cover up around his neck. All of a sudden, with day light streaming through the windows...he felt terribly naked...laying in another man's bed. Pete returned shortly with a tray. On it was some orange juice...some bacon rashers and some scrambled eggs with toast. He got his own white terry bath robe and had Hank put it on. Hmmmm, same size across the shoulders...but the robe was a bit long...because Pete was almost six foot tall and Hank was a little shorter.

"Doesn't matter, Hank...sit here at my desk and eat something. I'll go get your clothes. Mom and Marietta washed them last night."

Hank suddenly had a jolt. Marietta would have seen his underwear. A nice Catholic girl should not be looking at her guy friends underwear.

When Pete got back with the laundered clothes...he looked at Hank and said, "what?"

"Your sister would have seen my boxers and tee shirt."

"So...she has done laundry since she was ten. She probably thought you didn't have much hardware for seventeen years old," he said.

They both burst out laughing. Pete walked over to his desk where Hank was finishing his breakfast and ran his hands through Hank's hair.

"Good thing you have a great sense of humor, Hank," he complimented. "Life is more fun when you can laugh at yourself."

Hank smiled at him, "My uncle Tom used to do that when I was a kid...he would rub his fingers through my hair or give me a noogie."

Pete put his hands on each of Hank's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. "He'll be back Hank...I just know he will."

Hank was about ready to place his hands over Pete's, when a groggy voice behind them said, "Whose gonna be back?"

Both pulled their hands away quickly.

"Hank's Uncle Tom...I was just telling him that I am sure his Uncle will return home safely," Pete replied.

Tim stood up and stretched. "I think so too, Hank. I think so too."

Hank's mom and dad showed up about the same time as Doc Johnston. The Doc looked him over with everyone else out of the room. He came into the living room and told the awaiting crowd that he appeared to be out of danger...but an MRI at the hospital would be a good idea. If they could get him there around 11:00 AM...they would tend to it.

Maurice drove him to the hospital and when the procedure was completed...the physician said that there was nothing to be overly worried about. Hank would recover...but a few days rest would be in order...and prescribed some extra strength pain killers for the head aches that would accompany them for a day or two.

Maurice called the store where Hank worked and related the accident to his employer...who had already heard about it...and told him not to worry. A substitute had been found until Hank was able to return. What he did not know was that the substitute was Pete Loggins who worked for free so that Hank's salary would not stop. Hank did not know that until some time later.