The Lifeguard

By Orrin Rush (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Mar 21, 2001

Gay

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are

offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go

somewhere else.

Copyright c 2001 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed

electronically or in any other manner without the express,

written consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters

to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not

intended. They are all products of the author's imagination.


THE LIFEGUARD

Chapter 41

"I'm not a fucking prostitute, not even for a quarter billion

dollars," he raved. "What I have with you is sacred, and no

19 year old asshole is going to fuck it up."

I didn't say a word, but got up and poured him a stiff drink.

"He blindsided me. I didn't see it coming at all. Never

once did I get any warning signals. He's turned into a

control freak and he knows he's got me by the balls."

"Not yet," I commented, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

He grinned suddenly, "You're right, and it ain't ever gonna

happen, either."

"Want to start at the beginning?" I asked pulling him over to

me.

"Give me a minute to calm down," he said, cuddling up to me.

He was so upset he was shaking.

"Sorry about that. Blowing up sure felt good though. I've

been holding that in for about four hours. I just had to get

it out, and here I dump it all on you."

He took a long deep breath.

"He wanted to go fishing again. I don't know what it is with

all this goddam fishing! Anyway, this time he wants to go

stream fishing. Fine for him, a fucking nightmare for me.

On the lake, when you threw out bait, I think that's called

'casting', there isn't much in the way. Along the stream it

was a bit different.

"There's bushes, trees, rocks and my ass for the goddam hook

to get caught on. I got snagged on everything, including my

butt. You'll see the goddam wound I got!

"I tried. I swear to God I tried. I kept my cool, though.

When I couldn't stand it any longer, I just put my pole down

and went over and sat down on the bank.

"He hadn't laughed at my problems, and told me to relax, not

to try so hard.

"I asked if I could just sit and watch, fishing obviously

wasn't my bag.

"He said he'd quit too, and we could talk. I asked him what

he planned to do when he had all that money, assuming it was

a done deal.

"He outlined his plans, which really impressed me. It was his

intention to stay in school another year and get his degree,

hoping that Micron wouldn't make a big deal over the whole

thing until they actually had a product ready to sell, which

he estimated would take at least two years.

"In the meantime, he knew the other software giants would

keep after him, and he intended to tell them his program had

been sold, but not disclose who had bought it. I knew this

would make the Micron boys ecstatic.

"After he graduated, he wanted to spend time working on an

Operating System. He felt that the ones currently available

couldn't do justice to the platform he'd created, and also

wanted to take a swipe at the biggie in the industry because

of the way they'd treated him. They're the ones who had made

the threats.

"Everything that he told me was exactly what I wanted to

hear. He allayed my fears about corrupting and ruining him

with the money, and I knew Micron would be beyond pleased with

the arrangement. It had turned into a win-win situation.

"He tried to steer the conversation to me, but I threw it

back in his direction, keeping him talking about himself.

"The Mormon Church had stifled him, he explained, putting

blinders on him so he couldn't explore the world that he knew

was out there. He wanted to change all that and throw off

the shackles. The money he'd be getting would permit him to

do this, quietly.

"All this had lulled me into a false sense of security. Then

he dropped the bombshell.

'"Are you gay, Eric?' he asked in his little boy voice.

"Coming out of the blue like his question had, literally blew

me away. I want you to understand that during the time I'd

spent with him, there had never been anything to prepare me

for that! No vibes, no gazing at my crotch or anything.

"I'd been honest with him so far, why change now? I nodded

and said, 'Yeah, Spence, I'm gay,' as offhandedly as I could.

"Then he pounced. Not physically but verbally.

"'I'm gay too,' he admitted sheepishly, then paused. 'I'm

also in love with you. I'm a virgin and I want you to change

all that.'

"That made me reel. It didn't take long to realize that I

was in a corner. For many reasons, I didn't want to reject

him, hurt his feelings, but what he was asking me to do was

unthinkable. How could I talk him out of this wild idea

without alienating him?

"'Do you know what you're saying?' I asked.

"'I know exactly what I'm saying. I want to make love to

you, suck your cock, have you fuck me. Is that plain enough?'

"'I don't think that'd work,' I told him. 'I already have a

lover that I love more than I can tell you.'

"He had an answer for everything. 'That's OK, nobody has to

know.'

"'I'll know,' I told him. 'I just can't do it.'

"'Then I'm not going to sign your agreement,' he told me.

"'If that's the way it is, then that's it,' I told him.

"'You can change your mind,' he said.

"'I don't think so," I told him.

"'Maybe we'd better go home,' he said.

"We gathered up our fishing gear and went back to his truck.

The ride back to town was silent, he dropped me off at my

car, I headed to the airport, and here I am. End of story."

I spoke for the first time. "We both know that's not the end

of it," I told him.

"I know that," he said. "That's what scares me. Maybe I

shouldn't have run. Maybe I should have tried to talk to

him, reason with him. Oh shit!"

"Don't start beating on yourself," I said. "Give yourself

some time to think it over. Right then, you weren't in the

right frame of mind to convince him of anything."

"You're probably right, but having this hanging over me isn't

fun either."

"The door is still open," I told him. "If anybody can make

him see things like they are, you can."

"Maybe, at least there aren't any deadlines."

I thought about the dilemma he was in. I could give him a

way out.

"You could just do what he wants, then it'd be over. I know

it wouldn't mean anything. Afterall, there was that incident

with Brian," I told him.

"You wouldn't care?"

"Of course I'd care, but I'd understand. It wouldn't mean

that you loved me any less."

"That argument won't fly!" he flung back at me. "I'm not that

greedy! What happened between you and Brian was before you

made a commitment to me, so it doesn't count. Even if I

considered doing what he wants, I don't think I could even

get it up for the little bastard. I don't perform on

command. The most important thing is how I'd feel about

myself, and I don't think I could live with THAT.

"I know what you're doing," he continued. "You're trying to

make it easy for me, but that's not going to work. Goddamit,

I love you. I belong to you, body and soul, and nobody else

is going to get even a small piece of me."

"Then," I told him, "you're going to have to do the sales job

of your life, and I'm here to help you in any way I can."


Eric was normally a very deep sleeper, rarely moving around

much. That night, his tossing and turning woke me several

times, and he woke bleary eyed, unrested. Certainly not the

chipper, eager man with the sparkling eyes that I was used

to.

"Think I'll stay home today and think this over," he said.

"Last night, you cooled me down enough that I think I can

think straight."

"Want me to stay home so you can bounce ideas off me?" I

offered.

"Thanks babe," he said with a smile. "Let me work on this by

myself, but I promise I'll have a lot to bounce off you

tonight. You might come home a little early, though, we

could get 'bouncing' sooner," this said with a big leer.

It wasn't easy to concentrate. My lover had a problem, a big

one at that, so I had a problem too. I would have liked to

beat that damned kid over the head for putting Eric into this

position, but I couldn't.

Best idea was to get busy, not think about it, and give him a

chance to work it out.

By 3:00, it was time to go home. I hadn't accomplished a

damn thing.

Eric was sitting by the pool, notepads surrounding him. When

he looked up, his smile told me that he'd made progress.

"You're going to get in trouble for leaving so early," he

teased.

"I got permission from the boss," I told him. "You look

better."

"I've boiled it down to a few ideas that I think might work.

Gimme a kiss and go get outta them hot duds and I'll tell you

all about it."

"Here goes," he said.

"The first thing I have to do is talk to him. Face to face

would be best, but on neutral ground where he wouldn't feel

threatened. I've got a few ideas on that.

"Next, I'd work on convincing him that the business deal had

to be separated from sex. Use logic. Business is business,

and forced sex isn't any fun. He'll argue that it isn't

separate in this case, and I can counter that it should be,

it's wrong, appeal to the moral values that I'm sure he has.

"I believe this whole sex thing he's come up with is an

afterthought, something he came up with just recently. Damn,

I wish I hadn't been honest with him. If I hadn't admitted I

was gay, this would never have happened.

"He saw an opportunity and went for it. He may be infatuated

with me, but I'll have to convince him I'm not available. He

may be convinced that the stereotype is true, that any gay

man will fuck anything that's available. I'll have to

convince him that that's just not the way it is in reality.

"If he's so hell-bent on losing his virginity, I can help him

out. I know a lot of guys who might go for him, and not just

because he has a lot of money, or soon will, some damned

goodlooking guys, too.

"Then there's the business angle. The fact that the other

software companies low-balled him helps. I gave him our best

shot up front, and can argue from that position, pointing out

that he's in for one hell of a battle getting any of them up

to even close to that level, and that in the process he'd

lose his anonymity and none of his plans would come to pass.

"Trust, too. I think he trusts me, and I can play on that.

I've been honest with him from the get-go, so I'm sure I can

be convincing. I can play up the fact that Micron trusts me

too, and how, with my help, I could help him in the future

with anything else he might come up with.

"Then there's the 'Big Brother' aspect. Actually, I kind of

do feel like a big brother to him. All I have to do is

convince him that I feel that way ONLY, that there aren't any

sexual feelings at all, and that to force me into having sex

with him would change all that. I think he really wants a

friend more than he does a lover at this point in his life.

"Well, what do you think? Start shootin' holes."

I thought a minute. "All good," I told him. "You might

start with the 'Big Brother' thing and make it real clear up

front that you're just not available.

"Not that you or someone like you is unattainable, just that

you happen to be off the market. I know you don't believe

me, but in the eyes of every gay man, you're a walking wet

dream. Spencer no doubt sees you that way and came up with a

way to 'have' you. You're going to have to convince him that

his way won't work, and if you did give in, you'd hate him

afterward.

"Another thing is that you don't know just how infatuated he

really is. If he's serious, tell him that what he's asking

is running you away, and that if you agreed, he wouldn't have

any respect for you afterward."

"Do you think it'll work?" he asked.

"There's no way of knowing," I said. "One other thing.

You've been letting him call the shots, maybe it's time for

you to be a lot more assertive."

"Good idea, firm but gentle."

"What about timing?" I asked.

"He has my cell phone number and I have his. If he doesn't

call by Wednesday, I'm going to call him. I don't want him

to stew too long. Now, how about some of that other

'bouncing' we were talking about?"


The next two days were harder on me than they seemed to be on

Eric. "Either it works or it won't," he told me. "I've got

a gut feeling that it's gonna work, and I'm going with that."

I wasn't so sure. There were too many if's, but I didn't

share my misgivings.

Spence didn't call which worried me. It didn't seem to

bother Eric at all. Wednesday night arrived, and Eric called

him. I left him alone to do it, but in minutes he found me.

He was beaming. "You were right, assertiveness worked," he

said.

"I got him, said 'Hello', then TOLD him we needed to talk,

man-to-man. He agreed. We're having dinner together

tomorrow night in Boise. That's it."

"How did he sound?" I asked.

"Hard to tell, but I'm guessing he's having second thoughts."

I just grinned at this smooth talker who was the love of my

life.


Eric's plan was to fly up, have dinner, then fly back,

regardless of the outcome. "I'll be really late, so don't

wait up. I'll wake you with the good news when I get home,"

he'd said on his way out.

Yeah, sure. Like I was going to be able to sleep!

I had dinner alone in the den. There wasn't anything worth

watching on TV, so I tried to read.

Annie wandered in. "Where's Eric?" she wanted to know.

"Out on business," I told her.

"I sure wish you'd tell me what's going on," she said. "I

heard a lot of yelling the other night. Are you and Eric

having problems?"

"Oh, Hell no!" I laughed. "Everything between us is fine!

Sorry if you got that impression. Eric's working on the

biggest deal of his life, and sometimes he gets frustrated.

He was just blowing off steam the other night."

"You had us worried. It must be really really big if it's

bigger than 'Development'."

"Potentially, it's bigger than anything he's worked on so

far. If everything goes well tonight, he'll be able to tell

you about it."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for him," she said on her way

out.

The wait wasn't as long as I expected. Around 10:30, I heard

him come in. Then I heard voices and laughing. What the

hell?

Eric came in with his arm around a shorter young fellow.

"Babe," he said with a huge smile, "I'd like you to meet

Spence Young." He turned to the boy. "Spence, this is my

lover, Dave Rush."

I stepped forward to shake hands. Spence was giving me a

complete inspection.

"Spence is going to spend the next couple of days with us,"

Eric said, "I kidnapped him."

Eric ushered Spence to a chair facing our couch then gave me

a peck on the cheek and a hug. "We're celebrating tonight,"

Eric announced, "so what would you like to drink, Spence?"

Spence got a shocked look on his face, "I'm a good Mormon

boy, I've never touched alcohol in my life!" he said, then

busted up into a fit of giggles. "I'll leave it up to you,

Eric," he said when he stopped laughing.

I liked the kid immediately. "Eric's told me a lot about you,

Spence," I said, trying to get conversation going.

"Not everything, I hope," he said.

"EVERYTHING, Spence," Eric hollered from the bar. "That's

the way it is when you love someone. You share everything."

"I made a big mistake," Spence said, looking at his lap.

"Forget it," Eric told him as he put a drink in front of

him. "You admitted it, everything's OK now, so let's move

forward."

"Here's to the world's newest Billionaire," Eric toasted,

raising his glass.

We drank, then Eric explained that Spence had signed the

Micron agreement, subject to a few changes. His "rights"

would be exchanged for stock rather than sold, for tax

deferrment purposes.

"Let's hope that the market opens low tomorrow, for your sake,

Spence," Eric said. "That way you'll get more shares. Give

it a couple of years, and I wouldn't be surprised if they go

from $60 a share to $300, particularly after they announce

that they have your technology."

We talked until well after midnight. Eric led Spence off to a

guestroom and I went to bed. When Eric came in, I couldn't

resist teasing him. "I thought you were worried about

corrupting the kid," I said. "First it's money, then booze,

what's next? Sex?"

"Yep," he giggled. "Let's have a pool party Sunday."

"Matchmaker, matchmaker..." I hummed.

"That's me!"

"Are you really sure the kid's gay?" I asked.

"He swears he is. I'm not sure myself, though. I have no

intention of 'Throwing him to the wolves,' just show him that

we're pretty regular people and let him take it from there."

"Now tell me what happened," I asked as he slid into bed.

"He made me sweat, let me go through my whole spiel, then

just said 'OK'. That was it! Later, he apologized for

putting me through all that grief and admitted that the sex

thing was an afterthought that he regretted the minute he

threw it out."

"He's a nice kid, but he looks so young! I'd guess him to be

14 or 15, certainly not 19. What do his parents think about

all this?"

"They don't know a thing."

"You're kidding!" I said.

"No, they don't know anything specific, but they've been

quizzing the hell out of him after all the software people

showed up on their doorstep looking for him. I guess they

really aren't a close family."

"Legally, he's an adult, so I guess he can do what he wants.

Now let's talk about YOU. How does it feel to be really

rich?"

"It's just a bunch of numbers as far as I'm concerned," he

said. "The real thrill is from knowing I'm a part of

something that's going to have such an impact on everything

we do. It's mind boggling."

"Is it really that big?" I asked.

"I didn't realize what's involved until the 'Whiz' explained

it to me. Spence has come up with something that's going to

turn every PC into a Cray."

"What's a Cray?" I asked.

"The Supercomputer."

"Oh!"

"We're in on the 'cutting edge'," he said, snuggling up.

"Let's get some sleep."


The first thing Eric did when he woke up was call Steve, our

broker. Micron had opened at 58-3/8, which would be the

basis used to pay both him and Spence. That would be a lot

of shares! Four and a quarter million for Eric, more than 17

million for Spence.

"The IRS is gonna love you!" I teased.

"Your tax guys are working on it. Maybe it won't be so bad,"

he answered.

I didn't see Eric and Spence until they burst into my office

that afternoon. They'd been shopping and had toured the

Lundborg Rush facility. Spence was wide eyed.

"It's just beginning to dawn on me - what I can DO now,"

Spence gushed. "I can buy anything I want!"

"Are you going to sell a few shares so you'll have some

spending money?" I asked.

"No," he smiled. "I'm going to take a few shares to the bank

and use them as collateral for a loan as soon as I get home.

Not a lot, though, I don't want to draw any attention to

myself, but I might splurge just a little, and I have to pay

Eric back for all the shopping we did. I'm not going to

'sell' a single share for two years. Micron's paying a token

dividend that'll take care of me until then."

For what looked like a 14 year old kid, he had his act

together. He looked a lot better in his new clothes, not

those baggy things that the kids were wearing. His dirty

blonde hair hung over one eye, giving him a mischevious look

that was reinforced by the twinkle in his eyes.

It was impossible for me to fathom that this little boy was

about to set the world on fire. He sure didn't look the part.

They announced that the were going to Disneyland Saturday and

begged me to go along. No way. I needed a day of peace and

quiet.


Eric introduced Spence as his "adopted brother" to all the

guys who showed up for the Pool Party. He was kind of

standoffish at first, but the Lifeguards didn't let that last

long. They had him in the pool with them, horsing around, in

no time. He was literally a kid in a candy store and the

center of attention.

"I'll take this brat off your hands anytime, Eric," one of

the young Lifeguards named Jimmy offered.

"Anytime," Eric answered.

"Who're you calling a brat?" Spence wanted to know, attacking

the young Lifeguard from behind.

From then on Spence and Jimmy were inseparable. When they

played "horse", Spence was on Jimmy's broad shoulders, and

when we got around to eating, they paired off again. Before

Jimmy left, I saw them exchanging phone numbers.

Score another one for the matchmaker.


Loren called in to report on progress. He'd received and

filed the EIR along with all the other applications

required. Our intentions were now public knowledge and he

wanted to warn us.

"I can't believe we got that EIR so fast," Loren commented.

"It got here in about a third of the regular time."

"Big George promised me he was going to 'kick ass'. I guess

he did."

"You know Big George?"

"Sure do. We were at a party at their house only a week

ago. Real fine guy."

"Let me apologise to you for ever questioning your

credentials," Loren said. "Anybody who travels in those

circles has got to be bigtime."

"George introduced us to a couple of guys who are interested

in our Copper deposits, too," I added.

"Let me guess, Ross, Birney and Tom."

"Right. How'd you know?"

"They're the biggest in the business, and would be friends of

Big George. Let me warn you about them, though. Ross likes

a bargain, he's honest but he'll try to beat you down.

Birney's honest too, but slick. Watch him closely. Tom's a

thief. Hide all the silverware before he comes."

"We're not even going to talk to them until we've talked to a

good Mining Attorney."

"Who're you working with?"

"Preston, from Phoenix."

"He's the best. Say 'Hello' for me if you have a chance.

You guys may not know anything about mining, but you sure

ain't dummies. It's going to be fun working with you."

We got back to the Lovebird Mine.

If there weren't any objections from either other property

owners or any Environmental Groups, we would get the green

light to proceed in a couple of weeks. It would take another

week to dig the ramp and expose the seam, and then we'd be

ready to go.

I made Loren promise to notify us the minute the seam was

exposed, and told him that we wanted to be there when the

first charge was set off.


Eric and I were going over the day's events on the deck, our

version of unwinding, when Mary interrupted us. "There's a

guy out here with a delivery for Eric. Says he has to sign

for it."

Eric followed her back out, but was back in a few minutes

with a huge grin on his face. "Come on, you've gotta see

this!" he said.

I followed him out the front door to the drive. There sat a

shiny black Rolls Royce Corniche. The top was down and a big

silver ribbon was around it, topped by an enormous bow. Eric

picked up the card lying on the driver's seat and handed it

to me.

It said "Dear Eric, Only you can perform the impossible.

Again and again and again... Just a token of our

gratitude." It was signed by the Micron four.

"Once, I said that these were 'Old man's cars'," Eric said,

"but I'm changing my mind REAL FAST."

Naturally, we jumped in and went for a spin. It was like

riding on a cloud. "Let's go by Mom and Dad's," Eric

suggested. "I can't wait to show this baby off."

"It was a gift," Eric explained.

Karl looked at me. "Aren't you spoiling this kid, Dave?"

"I didn't have anything to do with it, I swear," I told him,

throwing up my hands.

"This I gotta hear!" Karl said, and invited us in for a drink.

"I took on this little project, you see," Eric started. "I

did a pretty good job, I guess, because this showed up on our

doorstep a little while ago with a thank you note."

"What he's not telling you," I broke in, "is that he pulled

off one of the coups of the century and that he also made a

buck or two for his efforts."

"They paid you too?" Ingrid asked incredulously.

"Yeah, a quarter billion," he mumbled.

"Then, with the car, you made about a half million dollars

for this little project? Not bad!" she said.

"With a 'B' Mom," he said, his head down so he didn't crack

up.

She stared at him. "Don't play with me, young man," she said

in an ominous tone.

He looked up at her, trying to choke back the laughter. "Two

hundred and fifty million dollars, Mom."

She looked at me. I nodded. She looked like she was going

to pass out. Eric told the whole story, leaving nothing

out. We stayed for dinner.


It was time to get informed about mining law. With the offer

to send a plane for him, Preston agreed to make a housecall.

Jack, our own Legal Chief sat in with Eric and me.

Derek Preston reminded me a lot of John Bussey, leader of our

exploration efforts. Friendly, knowledgable but serious in a

"down home" way.

Eric outlined our position, what we had, and what we wanted

to do.

Preston was familiar with both of the deposits we were talking

about. "First, let me tell you what's going to be involved,"

he said. "It's not real high-grade ore, but there's a lot of

money to be made. The only economical way to get it out is

open pit. That's the first headache, just getting permission

to mine that way. You can plan on the Environmentalists

getting into the act lobbing lawsuits, injunctions, and every

other delaying tactic they can think of at you. They won't

prevail, but they'll make your life miserable for a few years.

"Next, since it's costly to move ore, particularly low-grade,

you'll have to build a smelter in the area of the mine to

process the ore and extract the metal. Another Environmental

mine field. Chemicals get involved, so it gets more

complicated. Again, you'll prevail, eventually.

"Refineries produce tailings. Now you've got to find a place

to put those that's agreeable with everybody.

"Have I scared you off yet?"

"Not yet," I chuckled, "go on."

"With all that in mind," he continued, "You have four

options, as I see it. First, you can do it all yourselves.

Second you can sell the land with the Mineral Rights, or just

the Mineral Rights and retain the land. Third, you can do a

joint venture with an established mining company, putting up

the land and possibly some capital as your contribution.

Fourth, you can let a mining company develop the mine, and

take a small percentage of the profits.

"The risks, for you, vary from total exposure to virtually

none. How you proceed will depend on your faith in the

deposit, and how much money you want to put up. Rewards, or

losses, are commensurate.

"As you can see, there are a lot of factors involved, and the

more information you have, the better your decision will be.

Since you haven't mentioned it, I'm assuming you haven't had

a complete Economic Analysis prepared."

"What's that?" Eric asked.

"Let me explain," Preston said. "Both of those properties

have been surveyed innumerable times. From a good one, which

I'm sure John Bussey has already done, the actual amount of

copper that lies there can be determined. It won't be exact,

but it will be reasonably close. Then, the cost of

extraction and processing are factored in, and you end up

with a bottom line figure. There's one more thing to

consider, and that's market price, which we all know

fluctuates. There are good firms that specialize in these

analyses."

"That was my next question," I said. "How expensive are they?"

"Quite reasonable when you consider the potential involved

here. Quite frankly, I don't think you should even consider

a decision without one."

"I guess that's the next step," I said.

"I'll fax you a list of the firms I'd work with if I were you

as soon as I get back to my office. It'll be a short list,

and I'll note my preference," Preston said. "When you have

that in hand, I'd like to talk to you further so you can

avoid pitfalls when you're negotiating."

"We need all the help we can get," I told him. "You'll

definitely be hearing from us as soon as we get the analyses."

"Man, are we ever ignorant!" Eric commented when we were

alone. "Those guys would have had us for lunch."

"Maybe," I said, "but we're smart enough to recognize that

and get help. Let's get smart and gobble them up instead!

Let's get busy."

Eric got hold of John on the surveys. He had them, and could

have them available on a day's notice since he had to go to

Phoenix to get them.

Preston's list came in. He wasn't kidding about it being

short, there were only two names on it, one was starred with

a handwritten "best" beside it.

We gave them a call, getting a "Consulting Geologist". He

knew exactly what we wanted, said a face-to-face meeting,

which I'd suggested, wouldn't be necessary until their report

was complete, and told us what they'd need from us in order

to get started. A complete proposal and fee structure would

be overnighted to us.

"We've got to come up with a name for all this," Eric

sighed. "We've got a no-name entity that's about to

explode. We need an identity!"

"I've thought a lot about it," I told him. "I like your idea

of 'Hydra' for the Holding Company, and it'd be good for the

Development Company too, but the Mining Company has me

stumped."

"Maybe we're overlooking the obvious," he said with an impish

grin.

"What are you talking about?"

"Lovebird," he said, then started laughing. "I'm game if you

are."

I thought a minute. "Why not? Most people think we're nuts

anyway!"

"We've already got the 'Lovebird Mine', and I know we're not

going to change that. It means too much to both of us. The

Lovebird Mining Company is just the next step."

"We really don't have to explain anything to anybody," I said,

"let 'em guess. The only ones we have to convince are Annie

and Tina. I don't even think they know about the mine's

name."

"Let me do it," he said. "I'll start working on them at

dinner tonight."


"Has anybody come with Company names yet?" Eric asked the

table at large.

"Oh shit, I forgot all about that," Annie said.

"Me too," Tina admitted. I just shook my head.

"I've got a couple that I'd like to throw out," he said.

"For the Parent Company, I suggest 'The Hydra Group, Ltd.' I

know that sounds kind of British, but it sounds good to me,

short, snappy and isn't descriptive of what we do." He went

on to tell them what "Hydra" was, and the mythological story.

"I like it," Annie said. "I hope we're indestructible!"

"Under that," Eric went on, "would be the Railroad, no name

change there, the Development Company which could be Hydra

Land or something like that, and the Mining Company. I've

got an idea for the Mining Company, too.

"The gold mine already has a name," he continued, then told

them the story of how it'd been named by the men who had

discovered it. Without going into extreme detail on how it

had come about, he explained that it was named for the two of

us.

"Dave and I agree that the name of the mine is NOT going to be

changed even if we do have a hard time explaining it. That

stays. Now, I propose that we use the same name for the

Mining Company - The Lovebird Mining Company. What do you

think?"

Both girls were giggling. "I think it's wonderful!" Tina said.

"It's great!" Annie agreed. "I know it's not a conventional

name, but we're not a conventional family, either. It's got

my vote."

I smiled. It was settled, and I loved it.

"When are you going to let us see the mine?" Tina asked.

"There isn't much to see yet," I explained. "If everything

goes according to plan, they'll have the seams uncovered in a

few weeks. We're going over then, and you guys can go with

us if you want."

"There's another thing," Annie spoke up, changing the subject.

"You haven't explained what's been going on for the past few

weeks, Eric. Can you tell us about it yet?"

I sat back and listened while Eric told them the whole

story. The only part he left out was that Spence had wanted

Eric to deflower him.

"That explains a lot," Tina commented. "We thought you and

Dad were fighting."

"THAT ain't never gonna happen," he assured them.

"So, what's going to happen next?" Annie asked.

"Spence is back at school, trying to play it cool," Eric told

her. "Micron's in a frenzy. Naturally, they want to

integrate Spence's stuff into all their existing software so

they can get it on the market, but that's going to take a

coupe of years. They're going to keep quiet about even

having the technology until they're a lot closer to releasing

it to the public. Before they do release it, Lundborg Rush

is going to have to expand to meet the demand."

"Let's go buy Micron stock," Annie gleefully suggested to

Tina.

"Please don't," I asked them.

"Why not, Dad?" Tina asked.

"We know things that the general public doesn't. If you

bought now, it could later be construed as 'Insider Trading'

which is a bit illegal. We don't need a scandal."


I knew that Eric had every intention of maintaining his

friendship with Spence, but I don't think he expected it to

become so involved.

He called Eric almost daily, pouring out all his problems,

seeking advice. In my opinion, he was becoming a pest, but I

didn't tell Eric that.

Spence's school was about to let out for the summer, and Eric

hoped that that would change things. It didn't. Spence

became even more dependant. Now, his problems weren't only

school and his budding romance with Jimmy, but his parents.

His spending habits had changed, and they wanted an

explanation. A confrontation ensued and Spence stonewalled.

To say that they freaked out would be putting it mildly, and

Spence was on his way to see Eric.

Eric was pissed. "I'm not ready for this," he said calmly but

seething inside. "I'm not qualified to give him the advice

he needs, and I don't like being put in the position he's got

me in.

"I know I opened the door, but I didn't expect all this to

happen. What should I do?"

"Listen to him," I suggested.

"I've already taken your position of not giving advice," he

said. "All I do is point out the options open to him and let

him make his own decisions, but it doesn't sound like he's

going to settle for that this time. I feel like I'm being

used."

"I don't envy you," I said, seriously.

"I know this is my problem," he said, "and I know this is an

awful lot to ask, but would you help me out, listen to him

too?"

I'd felt this coming from the start. "Of course I'll listen,"

I told him, "but that's all. No advice. Have you thought

about talking to your Mother? She might be able to give you

some ideas."

"Hadn't thought of that," he said. "Good idea."

Spence's arrival was imminent. He was driving so that gave

us an extra day to prepare, but for what?

He arrived in a brand new Mustang. That, no doubt, had

raised a warning flag with his parents.

Eric got him settled in a guest room then brought him out on

the deck where I was. Looking at him, you couldn't tell that

he had a care in the world.

Eric jumped right in, however. "From what you've been

telling me, Spence, you've got a few problems."

"Can't we talk about them later?" he said, glancing at me.

"If you're afraid of talking in front of Dave, don't be. He

already knows all about this, and we both want to hear all

about what happened."

He was hesitant to get started, but once he did, it all

spilled out.

After moving back home, his parents had cornered him at the

first opportunity. They demanded to know where the money was

coming from. Thinking that the car he'd bought was the

problem, he'd tried to explain that he'd made a small down

payment and would be making monthly payments.

"How come your name is on the title, not the Bank's?" his

father had asked, "and how do you explain this?" he'd said,

tossing Spence's bank statement at him.

Nailed. He had over a hundred thousand in his account.

Hoping to contain the situation, Spence had told them that

he'd sold a program he'd written. That wasn't good enough

for his father who demanded to see proof. Spence refused.

It turned into a full-scale interrogation, Spence refusing to

answer any of the accusations thrown at him.

Then, his father demanded that Spence give him his car keys

and write a check for the full amount in his account, saying

that he wasn't going to enjoy his "ill-gotten gains", that

the money would go to the Church instead.

Spence refused again and tried to leave. His father had

grabbed him, punched him, and threw him back into a chair,

screaming at him.

At this point, Spence snapped, and for the first time, stood

up to his father. "I don't need you. I'm an adult and I can

do what I want," he'd told him.

Then his father started slapping him around. His mother sat

silently and watched.

Tears were streaming down Spence's cheeks as he was telling

us this. Eric moved over to put his arm around him.

"Dad had never hit me before, and he was totally out of

control. I was actually scared for my life," he continued.

"The look in his eyes was enough to scare anybody.

"He remembered all the people who'd come around looking for

me and wanted to know about that too. I wouldn't tell him

anything and he kept on hitting me. When he finally realized

I wasn't going to talk, he locked me in my room, telling me

that I'd stay there until I told him everything he wanted to

know. It's an old house, and my bedroom is on the third

floor."

The poor kid was terrified, understandably. No way out and

no phone. After a while, he'd realized that he did have his

computer and Internet connection. He sent frantic Emails to

everybody he knew who he thought he could trust, begging for

help. None responded all night. I could just imagine the

poor kid's terror!

He heard his parents leave for work the next morning, and

sent out more Emails. He didn't get a response until mid

morning, and it was from a girl he barely knew. She wasn't

willing to help him even though he begged.

In the afternoon, another friend had answered his mail, and

had been willing to help. He'd gotten out, taken his

computer and a few clothes, called Eric, and here he was.

It was a gut wrenching story, but I was a skeptic. A few

things didn't add up.

"Why didn't you try to contact the police?" I asked. "Surely

they have an Email address."

"You don't understand," he said. "Dad's pretty well known.

They might have gotten me out, but I doubt it. Even if they

had, they'd never take my word against his. Even if they

did, they'd turn me right back over to him. You have no idea

of how close Mormons stick together."

"But you're over 18," I said.

"That doesn't matter," he answered. "The father rules."

"Why didn't you tell your parents about selling to Micron

when it happened?" I asked. "Couldn't all of this have been

avoided?"

"You don't know them," he said. "Dad's one of those people

who knows what's best for everybody. He's a controller, and

he'd never be convinced that I was capable of handling that

kind of money. He'd have figured out a way to get it away

from me. I know you doubt my story, maybe this'll show you

I'm telling the truth."

With that, he pulled up his shirt. His stomach and chest were

livid. It was awful. He'd been badly beaten, far more

severely than he'd described. I felt like a fool for

doubting him.

What the hell would we do now? What COULD we do?


To be continued.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I appreciate hearing your comments on the

story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer -

good or not so good. Send me a message at

orrinrush@yahoo.com and also let me know if you would like to

be included on my "alert" mailing list for new postings.

Next: Chapter 42


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