Nudist Camp Vacation

Live simply, love generously, care deeply and speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

Nudist Camp Vacation CHAPTER 16

I don't know how I made it home. That's twice in a week. This time I'm ready to chuck it all.

Reluctantly, I opened my heart to Tim and we had almost exactly twenty-four hours of bliss. Then came twenty-four hours of worry about Stevey, and now this.

What is "this," anyway? Tim left without much of an explanation at all. "I want to think." What was that? I know I said it to Tim, but it was under much different circumstances. I thought he had already thought this through! He seemed so sure of what he wanted. He said he wanted me! Did he just want to rip my heart out? No, he's much too mature for that. What, then?

I feel sick. Here I am again, in a familiar place, wallowing in self pity, listening to Johnny Mathis. Oh, yes! This time I went straight to Johnny for the fodder that would feed my tears. Nell thinks I'm remorseful for murdering Tim. I don't care. I want to die!

I suddenly realized Johnny's singing my song:

One day in your life You'll remember a place Someone touching your face You'll come back and you'll look around, you'll . . .

One day in your life You'll remember the love you found here You'll remember me somehow Though you don't need me now I will stay in your heart And when things fall apart You'll remember one day . . .

One day in your life When you find that you're always waiting For a love we used to share Just call my name, and I'll be there You'll remember me somehow Though you don't need me now I will stay in your heart And when things fall apart You'll remember one day . . .

One day in your life When you find that you're always lonely For a love we used to share Just call my name, and I'll be there.

That's what we had. Exactly one day. It was perfect and it was bliss. Now I'm in Hell. Yeah, I'll "be there" all right. I'll be there only if the batteries in my motorized wheelchair don't need recharging!

There were many songs, all of which made me cry even more. I want it to stop! Make the hurt stop!

I finally got tired of listening to Johnny's love songs, so I put on Anne Murray. I love her voice! But, the first song that came on was:

What do you get when you fall in love? A guy with a pin to burst your bubble That's what you get for all the trouble I'll never fall in love again I'll never fall in love again

What do you get when you kiss a guy? You get enough germs to catch pneumonia After you do, he'll never phone ya I'll never fall in love again I'll never fall in love again

Don't tell me what it's all about 'Cause I've been there and I'm glad I'm out Out of those chains, those chains that bind you That is why I'm here to remind you

What do you get when you fall in love You only get lies and pain and sorrow So for at least until tomorrow I'll never fall in love again I'll never fall in love again

Angrily, I punched the "off" button, as if it's the fault of the CD player that I feel like this! I hurt my finger.

I know Nell is sneaking around somewhere, keeping an eye on me, hiding all the dangerous stuff: the stuff she thinks I might want to use to hurt myself. I've caught her peeking around corners when she isn't standing guard in the kitchen. I guess she thinks there's too much stuff in there to hide. She probably thinks I'll try to feed myself to the garbage disposer! (Now, THAT would be cruel justice!)

I wandered aimlessly in the garden and found myself stepping through the door to my toy box. The smell of rubber, gasoline, and leather always exhilarates me. Almost always. Not this time. I sat in several of the cars, caressing the plated steel, the brass and the upholstery. I love these cars and trucks, each and every one, but they can't love me back.

Tim, why did you tear my heart out? Didn't we finally resolve our insecurities? (At least MY insecurities?)

I finally made my way down to the Countach. Marty found me sitting next to it in a pool of my tears with my knees in my face. It probably should have been embarrassing, but it wasn't. He knows I'm nuts. I don't care. I want the hurt to stop. I want to die.

Marty doesn't care about me "that way" (at least, I don't think he does), but he held me and let me cry on his shoulder, anyway. We were cruelly interrupted by Nell running into the building and screeching!

"Telephone! Alan, telephone! It's Bill! It's important!"

What'd someone break a fingernail on a computer keyboard? What could be so important --- on a SUNDAY? She handed me my cell phone. Why is she answering my cell phone?

I lost my handkerchief somewhere. I wiped my nose with my forearm. "Hello? Bill?"

He was quite excited! "Alan! I was watching the tube and I heard something about some kids that got kidnapped from a nudist resort! Do you know anything about it? Is Tim okay?"

"Yeah, it's not Tim. It's his brother and his friend."

"Ohmygod! I know where they are!"

I froze in a surge of adrenaline. "You WHAT? Have you called the police?"

Pause for a moment of stunned silence. "No, I thought you'd want to know, first! After all, you know people who can help, don't you?"

It was time for ME to have a moment of silence. In that moment some semblance of sense returned to me. This is Stevey, and he needs my help! I felt like my brain finally burst through a fog. "Where are they? Why do you think it's them?"

"You know that retirement property Mary and I bought a few years ago? You know, it's out in the country! Alan? You there?"

"I'm here! I don't remember, but go on!" I now know how I'll die! It'll be waiting for Bill to get to the point!

"Yeah, well, that's where we are. We've got a small cabin on the property. Our neighbors must think we're never here, because we don't use it very often. We only come out here to check on it every now and then. Well, anyway, we're here today, and we've seen some very strange goings-on next door. There's a lot of growth between our neighbors and us, but we can see through the trees if we're looking in that direction. There're these two guys that look a lot like the description of the two kidnappers, and they've been popping out of the house like a demented cuckoo clock! They keep going to their car."

"What kind of car are they driving?"

"It's a beat up looking, faded dark blue foreign job. A little car."

I've got to test Frank's theory. "Has the car got any dents?"

"How'd you know? It's got dents all over it, and the paint's peeling! It looks like automotive cellulite!"

Bless Frank's instincts! ("Automotive cellulite?") "Where, exactly, is this place?"

"It's right up the road from the nudist resort, about three miles."

"You know where Tim's nudist camp is?"

"Well, yeah. You do know I had the place checked out, don't you?"

"Yeah, Bill, I do. You told me." I didn't want to tell him I'd forgotten.

"I had Tim checked out, too. I found out something interesting. You know he doesn't have to work, don't you? He's got a very impressive trust fund, and he'll get access to it when he turns twenty-one."

I've got all these people around me that know so much, but they never tell me anything! "Yeah, Bill, he told me." So there!

"Oh."

"Listen, stay where you are. I'm calling someone. I'm pretty sure they'll be there in a few minutes. Call me immediately if anything happens!"

"You got it!"

I quickly looked at my phone before he hung up. He was on his cell phone. Nell was watching me, wide eyed. I said, "Nell, get my wallet and the keys to the Suburban. I've got to get out there." She nodded and ran toward the house. I leaned over and kissed Marty on the cheek, squeezing his shoulder to thank him for humoring me. He might be an employee, but he didn't have to comfort me. He's a very nice man who seriously needs a partner. He's never made me think he was attracted to me, and I've never been attracted to him, even though he IS nice looking! I've just never thought of him "that way."

I phoned Frank. He sounded like he was exhausted and frustrated. "Alan. We've been out all night, but we've got nothing to show for it."

"Frank, I've got something for you! Bill just called. He thinks the kidnappers are about three miles down the road from the camp."

"How'd he come by that?"

"He thinks they're next door to his property. How long would it take for you to get there?"

He perked up. "About an hour! Maybe less. I'll have to round up the, uh, guys."

"Okay. I'm on my way there. I can be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Alan! If you see something or someone, don't let them see you!"

"I'll be careful." The phone went dead.

Nell met me at the Suburban with my wallet and keys. I kissed her on the cheek and breathed one word: "Pray!"

I drove as fast as I felt I could get away with. It was somewhat ironic. Having law enforcement follow me where I was going might have been a good thing, but they'd be there for all the wrong reasons if they were chasing me!

When I got close, I called Bill and had him guide me in. At his suggestion, I stopped short of the driveway for the property next to his. It was paved. It suddenly occurred to me that the pavement might have been the reason Frank and his friends hadn't located the tracks for the small car.

I couldn't just wait in the car, so I carefully sneaked up the drive. About a hundred yards from the road, at the end of the pavement, I looked at the dirt for the narrow tire tread I had seen. I had just spotted a tread I thought might look familiar when I heard a noise. I looked up in time to see someone come walking around the corner of the small, dilapidated house. He had his head down, apparently looking at his boots as he walked. Instantly, I recognized him as the vision I had of one of the kidnappers from the description I'd overheard. He was tall, skinny, and had dirty blond hair.

I jumped behind the cover of a large cedar. I listened intently. There was a faint sound of footsteps. They remained constant. He probably hadn't seen me. I breathed a careful sigh of relief.

Straining, I looked through the branches of the cedar tree. I could just make out movement next to a small dark blue car. I heard a small door or trunk slam, then soft footsteps that slowly faded away. I knew I should leave, but I refused to do so until I had a solid link to the kidnappers. Crouching, I crawled on my hands and knees until I could just see under the cedar that had hidden me. I could just make out the license plate on the car and commit the number to memory. If one can "tiptoe" on one's hands and knees, I did just that. When I was completely back behind the cedar, I rose to my feet. I walked as quickly and silently as I could half way down the drive then ran the rest of the way to the car.

As I jumped into the car, heart racing, my cell phone rang. I breathed a grateful breath that it hadn't rung while it could have given me away. It was Frank.

"Frank!"

"Alan, we're at the camp and headed up the road. Is that where you are?"

I was still catching my breath. "Yeah! Listen! It's them!"

There was a short silence then a whispered, "How do you know?"

I explained how I had recognized one of them from his description.

"Alan, they could have seen you! As quietly as you can, move your Suburban down the road back toward the camp, a couple hundred yards." Click. If I understood that correctly, he was angry with me. Tough!

I started the engine and as quietly as I could, I backed down the road about as far as Frank said, then I parked. I didn't have to wait long before Frank and his entourage slowly pulled up behind me. The heavy growth on the side of the road completely obscured their covert arrival from anyone who might have been looking from the house.

Silently, Frank and his friends climbed out of their trucks and stalked up to me.

Stone faced, Frank growled, "Where are they?" He was primed.

I pointed up the road at the driveway. "There. They're about a hundred yards down the drive where the pavement ends. It's a small brown house, and there's a small dark blue car in front of it."

"How many did you see?"

"I saw the tall, skinny guy you described. He's the only one I saw."

Frank immediately turned and mumbled some orders to two of the men that had gathered, and they spoke to the others. There were about twenty in all. They were as efficient as a team of commandos. I remember thinking that might be an appropriate description! I could just make out that they were preparing to surround the house.

As I looked more carefully at the men, I could see that some were young and some were middle aged, but ALL of them had a military appearance. They each had very short hair and trim and muscular physiques, as if they had been training for this. They all wore either khaki or camouflage clothing, and some had camouflage grease paint on their faces. It was just a little bit scary! I was glad they seemed to be on our side!

Without a sound, they dispersed. Their every move was in complete silence. I could see that some of them had bulges in their clothing that could have been guns!

Some of the men went around the house in one direction and some went the other. They used the dense undergrowth for cover, and then slowly, one by one, they approached the house. A few minutes later, the place was surrounded.

I crouched next to Frank at the end of the driveway, just out of sight from the house, with my Suburban positioned just behind us. I whispered an afterthought to Frank: "Do you think we ought to tell the Sheriff about this? Has the FBI been called in, yet?"

Frank turned and looked at me as if I'd just told him to shave his ass. He growled, "No." Then he turned back to watch the others creep up on the house. He whispered, "They'd just create a more dangerous situation. We'll handle this then we'll tell them about it. First, we'll extract the boys, and then the cops can come in and arrest the kidnappers."

I watched as several of the men peered into the windows through small periscope looking devices. They signaled each other, silently. Coordinating their efforts, they crept up to the door. I supposed they approached the back door, too, on the other side of the house. When one of them waved his hand in a countdown, they quietly entered the house.

A few very tense moments later, we heard some yelling then two large men burst from the house carrying the nude boys in front of them! The men were carrying the nude boys protectively, and they were running directly toward us! Frank jumped up and ran to the Suburban, opening the passenger door. The men stuffed both boys in the front seat while I ran and jumped in the driver's seat. Just before the doors closed, we heard gunshots!

Frank yelled at me, "GO!" as I heard banging and whizzing noises all around us. He ran back toward the commotion, pulling a hidden gun from under his shirt. I started the engine, thrust it into reverse and burned rubber! When we got back to the highway, I wasted no time speeding toward the camp.

I looked into the terrified and weeping faces of the boys. "Are you all right?"

Stevey nodded. Paul watched as Stevey leaned to me and hugged me. When he released me Stevey wiped his nose on his arm and hugged Paul. Both boys, at least outwardly, appeared unharmed.

I said, "We saw blood! What happened?"

Stevey and Paul glanced at each other then back at me. Stevey said, "What blood?"

"There was blood on a towel in your room! Then there was blood on some grass next to the road!"

Paul quickly explained, "Oh, that! I had a bloody nose!"

Stevey added, "Yeah! We were running around in the woods yesterday and all of the sudden his nose starts to bleed! We went back to the house and Paul lay down on my bed. Paul was using the towel he was carrying to help stop the bleeding. I didn't tell Mom, `cause we were afraid she'd send Paul home."

"Then the blood in the grass by the road was from Paul's nose, too?"

"Yeah. It started bleeding again. There's blood all over the back seat of their car, too. I thought he was gonna bleed to death!" Stevey leaned over and rested his head on Paul's bare shoulder. Paul turned and looked at Stevey then glanced at me.

Stevey whispered, "It's okay. He's cool."

After another critical look from Paul, he moved closer to Stevey and leaned his head against Stevey's. Slowly, he put his arms around Stevey and hugged him tightly. I saw Paul's body start to convulse as he sobbed into Stevey's neck.

I heard Paul say in a muffled voice, "I thought we were gonna die!"

Stevey looked almost stoic. "No, we couldn't die," he whispered. "Not with Alan and Frank around."

That made MY eyes cloud up!

Just as we approached the camp, two Sheriff's cars screamed by, followed closely by an unmarked car. Frank must have finally called them. The last car had two guys in suits, so I judged they were FBI.

I drove straight up to the motor home and skidded to a stop. The boys slowly climbed out of the Suburban. I saw Rita and a couple of faces I didn't recognize, looking out the windows at my ominous looking black Suburban with its dark tinted windows. When Rita saw Stevey climb out, she screamed, "STEVEY!"

I just caught a glimpse of Tom's shocked face. An instant later, Rita jumped out the door and ran to Stevey, crushing him in a motherly embrace. She was quickly followed by Tom and the couple. The strangers were probably Paul's parents, because they grabbed him and began to smother him, as well. I started to think I might need to rescue the boys from their parents!

After Rita had drenched Stevey with her tears, she pushed him away, but held him at arm's length. She inspected him from head to toe then turned him around and inspected his backside. That's when I noticed a slight glistening around his crack. I hoped she wouldn't notice it.

Spinning him around to face her, she interrogated, "Are you all right? Did they hurt you? What did they do to you?"

Tom said, "Mother, calm down!"

"Mom, I'm fine!" He looked at Paul and blushed. "They didn't do anything to us! Honest!"

"How did you get away from them? Where are they?"

I stepped in. "They're most likely in police custody by now. I saw several police cars speeding in the direction of the house where the boys were being held."

I saw that the other couple was listening to me as they cried over their son. Then I caught a glimpse of Tim. He'd been standing behind them, out of the way. He stepped up to Stevey and almost grabbed him away from his mother. He was sobbing. My heart seemed to try to erupt into my throat. I swallowed hard and tried not to look at him. He was as beautiful as ever.

Rita looked at me with the same wide eyes I had already seen on Tim. "Where . . . ?"

Anticipating her question, I said, "Just a few miles up the road in a small house. Frank and some of his friends got them out." I didn't want to tell her about the gunshots.

"You mean the same Frank that untied us?"

I nodded. "The same." I suddenly realized Rita and Tom were wearing clothes. They must have been wearing clothes in deference to Paul's parents.

"Oh, bless him!" she cried. She ran her hands over her eyes, wiping away the tears. Tom handed her a tissue. He obviously knew her well. Tim was staring at me, but I couldn't look at him.

"I think we need to get these young men inside."

They all nodded and led them into the motor home. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, asking the boys questions, but the boys seemed to be less than forthcoming. It would be only natural, I thought, if they had been forced into some sort of illicit behavior that they would feel uneasy discussing with their parents.

Tim helped his brother up the steps. I watched as they all disappeared inside.

My heart just couldn't take being so close to Tim and not be able to love him. I used the cover of confusion to leave. When no one was looking, I jumped into the Suburban and made my getaway. As I got to the road, I looked in the mirror and saw Tim running toward me. My heart just couldn't take it. I couldn't talk to Tim and keep my heart from shattering. I drove as quickly as I could onto the road and accelerated away. I could hardly see for my tears.

Driving while weeping was becoming a bad habit. Somehow, I made it home and put the Suburban to bed. It was only then that I noticed the bullet holes. There were several on the side of the car that had been closest to the kidnapper's house, and one in the passenger's window. I nearly fainted, but I said a quick prayer of thanks that the boys were safe. I put my little finger into one of the holes and felt the protective armor behind the sheetmetal. Suddenly, the cost of the armoring became insignificant. It only takes one saved life to justify any expense, no matter how great.

When I went into the house, I didn't know quite what to do with myself. I was partly keyed up and partly depressed, so I decided to take a hot Jacuzzi bubble bath. (Anything for a distraction!) It did seem to sooth me!

Several times while I was soaking, I heard my cell phone ringing. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Now that Stevey was safe, I could return to my wallowing.

When I finally lifted my pruney body out of the cold bath water, the bubbles had all dissipated. I took a quick hot shower, dried off, and headed to the bedroom. I flopped on the bed, stark naked. I was beginning to enjoy being nude, even if I was alone. I was fantasizing about going to some other nudist resort or beach, or gay nudist resort, or gay nudist resort at a beach (Fire Island? French Riviera? Mykonos? Black's Beach?), when my cell phone rang, yet again.

I groaned and grabbed it off the nightstand. I was determined not to answer it. I looked at the number. It was Tim, or at least his number at home. My heart sank again and an invisible hand grabbed my throat. Even if I had answered it, I couldn't have spoken. I let it ring, but I couldn't stand to hear it. I covered it with a pillow and pressed down on it to muffle the ringing. I sobbed as I did it. It felt like I was smothering Tim, or our love.

Just as I thought I couldn't bear it any more, it stopped ringing. Quickly, I dialed voicemail and began listening to my messages.

The first message was a gruff voice. "I'm calling for Mr. Geoffrey Stewart. Please have him call Inspector Blodgette." At least that's what it sounded like. He left a number to call. I wrote it on the notepad I always keep on the nightstand.

The next call was from Frank! He was whispering. "Alan, the cops want to talk to you about today. I had to give them your number. I may need your help. They're really hot that they weren't called to rescue the boys, even though they would have made a mess of it. They've got the kidnappers in custody, but they may try to get a pound of flesh from me and my buddies. Call me!"

THAT got my attention! Before I could hang up, another message started. A small voice said softly, "Alan, you left before I could talk to you. Please call me. This is Tim."

Just when I think I've got my emotions under control, the dam breaks again! It sounds as if Tim might either regret leaving or want to explain himself. The sound of his voice triggered a surge of emotion. My nerves and my heart can't take this! My emotions are up one minute and down the next! It's like "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride!"

Before I could rein myself in, another message started. "Alan? It's Stevey. Call me, please."

Now, THAT'S a message I CAN'T ignore! Under "Blodgette" and his number on the notepad, I wrote "Stevey," "Frank," and "Tim" in a column.

The next message started. It was Frank, again. "Alan! This is Frank! Call the County Sheriff's Office!" He gave a number. "I've been arrested for obstructing a police investigation!" Oh, Hell! I'll get my attorney on that, right now!

Before I could think to cancel the progression of messages, the electronic voice told me there were no more messages. The rest must have been hang-ups. Immediately, I called my attorney and sent him to get Frank out of jail – NO EXCUSES! He was good and knew all the wedges to get people out of jail, quickly. I'd seen him do it one night when a friend (who shall remain nameless) was arrested for "public intoxication" and "indecent exposure." (He was peeing on a tree in a park, stinking drunk.)

Now that Frank was being rescued, I turned my attention back to my list. Slowly, I called the camp, knowing that Tim might answer.

"Hello?"

I didn't recognize the voice. It could have been Tim, but I took a chance. "Stevey?"

"Alan! Why'd you leave so fast? I wanted to thank you!" Then he whispered, "I need to talk to you."

"I had to get away, Stevey. I couldn't stay." My voice quivered.

There was a pregnant silence on the other end, and then I could hear movement.

"Stevey?"

"Yeah, Alan, I'm here. I'm going to my room. I can talk there."

I heard a door close.

"What happened to you and Tim?" he demanded.

I took a deep breath. "You'd better ask Tim."

"I'm asking you! What happened?"

"Stevey, I can't tell you what happened, because I don't know myself."

An awkward silence ensued.

"Stevey, what happened while you were away? Are you all right? Tell me, honestly."

"Alan, it was kinda scary, but it was okay. Actually, I kinda liked it! All they wanted to do was take pictures of us! Especially me. Then they took pictures of both of us, together!" He started to whisper. "They made us have sex together. Paul kept blushing at first and couldn't get . . . you know . . . hard. But I took care of him. Alan, I really like Paul! I think I love him!"

"Stevey, I'm glad. Did you two talk about it at all?"

"Yeah! Yesterday they just had us playing with each other and, you know, sucking. When we got tired, they tied us up on a bed together and told us to sleep, but we talked. Paul told me he liked me a lot, and he liked what I did to him. I told him the same thing and that I liked making him feel good. He blushed a lot and said the same thing. Then I asked him if he liked guys and he said he did! I told him I do, too, but I REALLY liked HIM! That's when we kissed! Alan, he really kisses good!"

From his description, it sounds like the two boys have found their match! Inside, I was ecstatic for them!

"But this morning the kidnappers got more serious. They wanted me to screw Paul. I thought he was gonna die from shaking! But then I told them that Paul could screw me. That made Paul blush a lot! I whispered to him that I'd been screwed before and that made him calm down, but he looked at me funny. I guess I'll have to tell him about it. I don't know why, but before I met you, Alan, I don't think I ever woulda told anyone about this. But now, I don't know, I guess telling it to you makes it okay. Like it isn't nasty any more."

"Stevey, you should never be ashamed. You were forced into it. If you had any enjoyment out of it, then that's good for you. What that guy did to you was wrong. You didn't do anything wrong at all. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yeah. Now I do. I've been thinking a lot about it and what you said. I used to think it was all my fault that it was happening to me. But now I know that's wrong. You were right, Alan."

I said a quick prayer of thanks. Stevey is one very lucky young man. His God-given sense helped him figure it all out. What I did for him and said to him was nothing. The love he gets from his parents and brother had to have played a large part in his keeping a level head. Otherwise, who knows how long it would have taken him to come to terms with his abuse?

"Stevey, I only told you the truth. That's all."

"I love you, Alan. Not like a boyfriend, but like, I don't know, I guess like a really good friend."

"That's perfect, Stevey! I love you, too!"

"Do you love Tim?"

My breath caught again. "Yes, I love Tim."

"Then what's wrong? Tim loves you and you love Tim, so why aren't you here? Tim's walking around here like he's trying to remember where he left his car, and he loves that car more than anything! Except you, of course!"

"Well, you and Tim should talk. I can't say anything more about it." I was starting to choke up.

"Okay, I will. Wait a second."

I heard some movement again. "Stevey!"

"Yeah?"

"Stevey, what're you up to?"

"What? Nothing!"

"Stevey! I know you're going to get Tim on the phone! If you do, I'll hang up!"

"Just a minute!"

I hung up.

Please write to me! - kenlou16@yahoo.com