Nudist Camp Vacation

Dedication:

There is one person in particular who has written to me and touched my heart. In his youth, he suffered from abuse much like Stevey did. It is to Rick that I dedicate this story, and especially this chapter.

(Part of the story told in this chapter by Andy is based on fact. "Joel" was a real person.)

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

Nudist Camp Vacation CHAPTER 18

Carl was waiting silently in the corridor with Inspector Gadget as Cooper and I walked out of the small conference room. Carl looked at me with concerned puzzlement. I smiled at him and motioned toward the lobby. When we got there, I looked back to make sure Gadget hadn't followed us.

Carl was bursting to ask what happened. He whispered, "Alan! What'd the fed want?"

"Lunch."

He looked at me, bewildered. "What? He wants to have lunch with us?"

"No, he wants to have lunch with ME."

He stopped in his tracks with his mouth hanging open. I glanced back at him as I continued to walk toward the door. He must have realized I was walking away from him as I pushed the outside door open and walked through it. Carl came running after me.

"Alan! You can't have lunch with a fed!" he said in a tense stage whisper.

"And, why not?" I asked, not looking at him.

"Alan, stop!"

He grabbed my arm and spun me around. This I didn't appreciate. He must have seen the angry look on my face, because he let go of my arm as if it were hot.

"Sorry! Where're you going, and what're you gonna be talking about?"

"Carl, I don't think that's any of your business! Look, he told me that he'll be pressuring Blodgette and the locals to drop the charges against Frank and his friends. But I still want you to take care of the three that have other legal issues. I'm relatively certain this lunch will be a personal thing." I looked at Carl with a smirk.

Carl's jaw dropped. "You gotta be kidding!"

I chuckled. "I think I know where your mind is going, but I'll tell you that I'm not certain. It may just be that I have a friendly ear to bend."

"Just be careful! You never know what he's up to."

I turned and looked at him. I said, patiently, "Carl, I'm a pretty good judge of character. Don't worry about me. I can handle myself."

He dropped his head, sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. But call me later! Let me know how it goes and what he talks about. Okay?"

I looked at him a moment. "I'll call you to let you know I survived. Whether I can discuss what was said; that may be another thing."

He screwed up his mouth in thought. He must have been thinking about how to plant an electronic bug on me. "Call me as soon as you leave him, okay?"

I smiled at his persistent concern. People must think I need looking after. Sometimes, I do, but I don't think this is one of those times. But, I do appreciate my caring friends. "I will. And thanks for caring."

I shook his hand and walked to the curb. He followed me. There was a black Chevy Malibu waiting at the curbside loading zone. I could almost see Carl's eyes trying to burn holes through the darkly tinted windows. As Carl slowly walked away, I leaned down to the opening window.

A voice from inside said, "Hop in!"

Those blue eyes are like ice, but warm at the same time. I glided into the passenger seat, closing the door and grabbing the seatbelt. When I had it fastened, I noticed Cooper had been watching me intently.

"You're in pretty good shape for someone your age."

I looked at him with a smirk. I don't think he meant that as a backhanded compliment. "Thanks, I think."

He blushed! "Uh, I didn't mean . . . I meant that as a compliment!"

I laughed. "I know. I was teasing you." Actually, I was testing him. From his reaction I discovered he was being genuinely vulnerable. My curiosity was definitely piqued.

He blushed even more and looked at me with a smile. I think he appreciated my playful attitude. I began to think that maybe I shouldn't be so playful. If he is attracted to me, it might encourage him. That wouldn't be fair to Tim. Tim? I know we're having an odd moment in our relationship (There is a "relationship" isn't there?), but I don't want to jeopardize the chance to work it out with him.

"So, what do I call you? Agent Cooper?"

His smile briefly turned to a scowl. "NO! Call me Andy!"

"Then you call me Alan. All my close friends call me Alan."

He looked at me with a worshiping gleam in his eye. I hope I've misinterpreted something, but I think I'm in deep do-do.

As he started driving, he asked, "So, where do you want to go?"

I thought that it would be best to find a quiet, out of the way place to eat, where we could talk without being overheard. I suggested a favorite restaurant of mine that had once been a house, just outside of downtown. When we got there, it was about 11:30. We were the first diners to arrive for lunch. I know the owner. I love to listen to his thick French accent. It's as if his words are spoken to a special music.

"Mr. Stewart! Welcome! It has been too long, my friend!"

"Hello, Pierre! Yes, it has been too long. Do you have a table for two in a private corner?"

"Oh, I can do better than that! Please, come with me."

He led us to a small room with three small tables in it. I always liked to think that it had been a small sitting room or library in the old house.

"I think this will be good for you! We won't have very many customers today for lunch, so you will have this room completely to yourselves." He winked at me and nodded at Andy as he pulled out Andy's chair for him to sit.

"Thank you, Pierre! You're always so good to my guests and me."

I tried to slip him a twenty-dollar bill, but he pushed my hand away. "No, no! You are my friend! I still remember the special favor you did for me! No! The lunch today will be my special gift to you!"

I hadn't realized it had been so long since I'd eaten here. The "favor" happened several years ago. I sponsored his nephew to move to America just after Pierre had moved here. I gave his nephew a small office job at Ubergeeks. It was just enough that his immigration was simplified. He only worked for me until his work visa was well established then he moved on to a better job with a bank. I was happy to help and actually, it was very little effort. He was a hard worker and I was sorry to lose him, but the bank job better suited him.

"Pierre, you know that's not necessary! I told you before, the favor was nothing. I'll pay for our lunch."

He gave me a scowl. "No! You will not! And there will be no menu for you! Your waiter will bring you your meals, directly, and he will not pester you. Please let me know if you need anything."

I could tell his insistence was final, so I chose not to argue further. "Pierre, you're too good to me. I'm honored to be your friend."

He smiled and bowed, "And I, yours." He turned on his heel and walked quickly toward the kitchen. Our waiter appeared a moment later, bringing us glasses of water. He took our drink order and left.

"So, Andy, I'm guessing there was something you wanted to talk about."

He cleared his throat several times, glancing at me nervously, then took a sip of water. "I thought this would be easier."

The waiter brought my coffee, but Andy was satisfied with just water. The waiter scurried away.

"Maybe I can help. Andy, I'm gay. Are you gay, too?"

My timing was bad. I caught him with a sip of water in his mouth. He choked and almost sprayed it across the table. After he sputtered, coughed, and wiped his mouth with his napkin, he said, "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

I smiled and shrugged. "Life's too short to pussy foot around. I believe in coming to the point. Now, did you want to discuss something along those lines, or was it something else? The way you acted back in the conference room, I guessed it was something personal. I have nothing to hide, but I can understand if you do. . . . Do you?"

He cleared his throat again. "Well, um . . . I guess I do." He squirmed.

"Okay, Andy, let's see if I can make this any easier. My gaydar's been going off ever since I met you, so let's just accept that you're gay. Since you work for the FBI, you can't let anyone there know you're gay, or it'll be your job." I hesitated a moment to let him protest if he wanted. He didn't, so I continued. "The way you were looking at me in the conference room, I'm guessing that you're attracted to me. Now, that part you'll have to either confirm or deny."

He blushed.

"I'll take that glow on your very attractive face as your confirmation." I shifted in my chair. He winced, still blushing, but remained silent, so I continued. "I know I'm being as subtle as a freight train, but there's a reason. I wouldn't normally be this blunt, but I'm not available."

His jaw dropped. He said in a low voice, "But, your file said . . . your lover was . . . he died . . . three years ago. You haven't been with anyone since."

"You had me checked out?" It was MY turn to be shocked, but he turned beet red. I thought a moment then shrugged. I turned to him and smiled. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. My associates and I have people investigated every now and then, so I know it's done. I should have known the FBI would have a file on me because of the work my company does. So, how'd I fare?"

He cleared his throat, again. "Uh, quite well, actually. I was looking at a copy of your file when you came to the conference room. You're quite a successful businessman! But . . . why aren't you available?"

"I've just recently met someone. We're off to a rocky start, but I want to give it every chance to work. I'm not ready to give up on him."

He dropped his head. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't be here."

He started to push his chair away from the table, but I grabbed his hand. "Andy, wait!" I whispered.

He looked up at me with sad eyes, relaxing back into his chair.

"Look, I don't see any reason we can't be friends. I'm guessing you don't have any contacts around town to meet someone you can trust. I can introduce you to some people who're worth trusting, if you're interested."

He thought a moment then looked at my hand on his. "I trust YOU."

I realized he hadn't moved his hand away from mine, so I patted his hand. The waiter came into the room with a plate of sizzling escargot, so I withdrew my hand. Silently, he turned and left.

"Do you like these?" I asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

Tentatively, he took a small fork and hooked one of the small prizes. Bringing it carefully to his mouth, he gently blew on it. I was immediately taken with his full, soft looking lips. Pierre must have misunderstood the purpose of this lunch as one I intended to be romantic. It could easily have been so, if the situation had been different. Andy carefully took the morsel into his mouth and held it, closing his eyes, savoring it. I'm sure my jaw dropped. There was love on his fair face. With his contrasting black hair, he was strikingly, movie star handsome, with an iridescent glow on his skin. Involuntarily, I imagined him with come in his mouth and parts of me began to grow to wood.

I tore my eyes away from him and cleared my throat as I began to feel like a voyeur. It was becoming stiflingly warm in the room. I used my napkin to wipe the sudden perspiration from my upper lip. I'm just a lecherous old man!

Honestly, I don't think he did that on purpose, but I was determined not to let myself be carried away! As we shared our treat, Andy seemed to loosen up. I didn't want to press him about his personal life, after all, he knew a lot about me, but I was profoundly curious. As it turned out, I needn't worry about trying to get him to share his past.

He looked into my eyes with an intensity that startled me. "Y'know, Alan, it's like I said before, I don't know what it is about you, but I trust you. I'm about to tell you something that you must never share with another living soul." He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. Without waiting for me to respond, he began, "I grew up in a small town in Kansas. Yeah, I know real cliché. When I was a kid, I saw the movie The Wizard of Oz.' For some reason it had a tremendous impact on me. I would wish with every storm that came through that a tornado would come and carry me away. I didn't care if it carried me to the Emerald City; I just wanted to be anywhere but there. You know, somewhere over the rainbow.' I knew I was different, but at first, I wasn't sure why. I just didn't seem to fit in.

"Then I had this friend in high school. His name was Joel. We were both almost seventeen when we met. We sort of hit if off, I guess you could say. We started hanging around each other a lot. I can remember we used to sit together on the steps of my back porch. We would talk about everything with each other. He didn't like his father much, but he never said why. I got the impression his father beat him, but I didn't have any proof. He missed his sister a lot, because she had just married and left home. They were very close, and he was happy for her that she had been able to get away from their home situation.

"I told him about how miserable it was when my father traveled on business, especially when he'd be gone for months at a time. Mom became a tyrant when he was gone, but she wasn't all that great when he was there. I remember how she used to beat us when we did anything wrong. It didn't have to be much. Sometimes she'd draw blood. I even had black eyes, sometimes. It wasn't until much later that I learned that wasn't normal."

For a moment, he was lost in thought then darkness seemed to overtake him. He stared at his hands over his plate as he spoke. "Joel and I became quite close, just the two of us. I thought of him as the brother I never had and I told him so. Sometimes I'd want to wrestle with him or just hug him. Every time I tried to get close to him though, he'd shy away, say it wasn't right, but it seemed like he really wanted the same thing. Then one day when no one was home, I just felt like I wanted to touch him. It had become an obsession for me. It didn't seem like he was a brother any more. He was . . . more. I reached over and put my hand lightly his leg as I was talking, trying to distract him, then I moved my hand further up. When I got close to finding what I really wanted to touch, he jumped up and said he had to go."

He swallowed hard. "We never talked about it. He wouldn't come over for a while, but then something changed. Maybe it was me, I don't know. We got close again and on weekends, Joel started spending the night in the spare bed in my room. One Saturday night we'd gotten hold of some beer and drank it. I think he must have thought I was drunker than I was and I guess maybe I should have been, but I wasn't. That night, after we'd gotten in our beds, he got up again and stood in the middle of the room. He asked me if I'd touch his cock. Just like that."

Andy's eyes got cloudy and he wiped his nose. I listened in silence. It was quite obviously painful for him to continue. It was during the brief silence that the waiter brought salads to us with chilled forks. He glanced only briefly, curiously, at Andy and quickly retreated. Andy continued in a whisper so light I had to strain to hear him.

"I asked him why he'd want me to do that and he said he wanted to know what it felt like to have someone touch his cock. I got out of bed and got close to him in the dark. He was standing there just in his jockeys. I really wanted to touch him! God, I wanted to touch him bad . . . but I didn't. I was so scared that my hands and knees were shaking. I was terrified about being gay. I didn't want anyone to find out how I felt, not even Joel, so I told him that I wasn't `like that' and that it wasn't right for guys to touch each other. Alan, I've regretted that moment ever since. If I could just go back and do it over . . ."

He looked down into his hands. They were shaking. He swallowed hard. "A few months later, we drifted apart. A year later, he took a gun and blew his brains out. I found out later he'd gotten involved with a rough crowd and they'd raped him. Not just once, but several times over several months. If I'd just . . ." He wiped tears from his cheeks. It was obvious he loved that boy.

I cleared my throat of the lump that had formed there. I whispered, "So it wasn't you that had been abused, it was him."

He looked at me and sadly nodded. There was severe pain in his eyes.

"Andy, you can't beat yourself up like this. Circumstances were what they were. I'm sure that if you had known what would happen you would have done something to stop it. Besides, you had nothing to do with what Joel did."

He looked at me sadly. "I know all that. I just miss him. Now it's too late to talk to him."

I just couldn't press him any further. We had been picking at our salads, but neither of us had much of an appetite. Pierre came to check on us and take our salad plates. He asked if anything was wrong.

"No, thank you, Pierre. Everything's fine. We're just not very hungry."

He looked at me curiously, then at Andy and his damp face. Silently, he took our plates and retreated. He seemed to understand that our conversation was serious and that we needed privacy.

In the silent moments that followed, Andy wiped his eyes and sipped some water recovering somewhat, and the waiter brought us our meals. It was veal with tender baby veggies and rice. It was a simple meal, but the flavor was out of this world!

As we began eating, he continued, "After I started college, I realized that Joel's abusers had literally gotten away with murder. I switched my major to criminology and worked my ass off to get into law enforcement. I graduated third in my class. When I got this job with the FBI and finished my training, I did some checking, mostly online. I found out that these people had a lot of activity on the internet, so it was easy to trace them to Texas. That's when I got myself transferred here. It took several years, but they've all come to justice in one form or another, every one of them."

"So they're in jail, now?"

He looked at me fiercely. "It turns out they were into child porn and worse. Some of them went to prison, and most of those met their Maker at the hands of the other prisoners." There was a gleam of perverse satisfaction in his eyes as he stared off into space.

"You said `some' went to prison. What happened to the rest of them?"

He narrowed his eyes and looked at me appraisingly. After a long hesitation, he said, in a low, deliberate voice, "Sometimes people find justice outside the system."

It was obvious he was being evasive. I looked at him and indicated with a look that I was curious. He raised one eyebrow and sighed, moving his water glass to his lips to take a sip of water. All the time, he stared at my eyes, almost daring me to press the issue. His demeanor reeked of danger. In that moment I decided I'd better not pursue it. It seemed to me that he had done something underhanded that he wouldn't want to share, and I'd be better off if I didn't know what it was, although I could guess. I thought it better to change the subject.

I asked, "Did you interview the boys who were kidnapped?"

"Yeah," he whispered as he relaxed his expression.

"Did you talk to Stevey's brother, Tim?"

"Yeah. He's one very stunning young man."

Andy looked up and saw my proud smile. His jaw dropped.

"HE'S your lover?"

I nodded and sighed. "He chased me until he wore down my resistance."

"Oh! No wonder you're not interested in me!"

"Andy, I swear, if I hadn't already made a commitment to Tim, you'd be number one on my list."

He chuckled. "Well, thanks, I guess."

"No, I mean that as a sincere compliment. You're one of the most attractive men I've ever met. You probably have women, and men, fawning all over you!"

He had an "aw, shucks" look on his face.

"See?"

"Well, it's not women I'm interested in, but I can't let the Bureau know that. It'd be the end of my career!"

"Would that be the end of the world? You're working in a homophobic environment. That couldn't be very pleasant."

He thought a moment and sighed a long breath. "It's not. But it's what I've worked for all my life. It's all I've ever wanted to do."

"Andy, if you're half as good as I think you are, you could write your own ticket."

"To where?"

Now he had me. I don't know much about cloak and dagger work. "I really don't know. But there must be something in the private sector where you'd excel. What about private detective work?"

He sighed. "Actually, I've thought about that. The biggest problem is that I like working where I do. I've got a lot of contacts and I can do a lot of good where I am." He looked deeply into my eyes. "I can help a lot of people. Whatever I do, it'll be well thought out."

"Of that, I have no doubt. I'll tell you what. Let me be your safety net. If you ever find it so uncomfortable that you find you can't work there any more, either I can put you to work, or someone I know will give you a job."

"I shouldn't have let you say that, but I know your heart's in the right place. I appreciate the sentiment."

"That's what friends are for, but it's not really sentiment. I'm working on expanding the computer security part of my business. Your experience and contacts could be useful."

"Well, thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

The waiter finally came and cleared the plates away. "I'll bring you your desserts right away."

I said to the waiter, "Wait a moment!" then looked at Andy. "I don't really want dessert. If you want dessert, I'll have another cup of coffee."

Andy looked at his watch. "No, I'd better be getting back. But there is something I'd like from you."

I waved the waiter away. "What's that?"

"Your phone number. If things don't work out with that young man, then I'd like to get to know you better."

I smiled. "I'd be honored." I took out one of my business cards and wrote my cell and home numbers on it. "I'm sure things will work out, but I'd still like for us to be friends. You can call me any time you'd like to talk or visit. Do you have my home address?"

He smirked. "I think I can find it. Actually, I have your numbers, too. I just wanted to be sure it was all right to call you."

I chuckled. "I kinda figured as much. I don't have your access to information. Can you give me your phone number, too?"

He smiled. "Sure." He pulled out a three-by-five card and wrote his name, cell phone number, and address on it and handed it to me. "I move around a lot. This is my personal cell phone number, under a bogus name. If I don't answer it, leave a message and I'll return your call."

I smiled and shook my head at him. It should be interesting having an agent of the FBI for a friend. He just shrugged.

I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and left it on the table for a tip. As we both stood, I saw that Andy was facing me, not making any effort to move out of the room. I looked at him curiously as he approached me and put his arms around me in a hug. He rested his head on my shoulder. As I hugged him back, I felt his slender, but thickly muscled frame under his suit.

When he finished the hug, he looked up into my eyes and said, "Thank you, Alan. Thank you for listening."

"Thanks aren't necessary. You're my friend, now. Like it or not, we have a bond."

His lip quivered. He whispered, "You don't know how much that means to me. I've never had a close friend. At least, not since Joel."

"Well, now you do." I turned him toward the door and had my hand on his shoulder. "I'd like for you to keep in touch. Call me every so often, will you?"

"I promise."

On our way out of the restaurant, I found Pierre and gave him a warm hug. "Thanks, Pierre. It was a very special lunch."

He looked at me sadly. "I hope everything was to your liking."

"Pierre, we needed some quiet time to talk. Everything was perfect and the food was delicious."

Pierre's spirits seemed to pick up. "Then it is good."

"Very good!"

He gave a short bow. "Come back soon, my friend."

"You can count on it."

As Andy drove me back to my Hum-Vee, he said, "You sure do know how to charm people."

I shrugged. "If that's what it is, then all you have to do is give people the respect they deserve. There are a few people who hate me. But they're people I feel don't deserve respect. Whatever the situation, I try to learn something from everyone I meet. Everyone has different experiences and everyone has something that makes them unique. Sometimes it's good and sometimes it's not so good, but it seems like there's always something you can learn from everyone."

He nodded, thoughtfully. "That's very wise."

"Now, don't accuse me of that! You'll make me feel old!"

He laughed. "Not you! You're about the youngest person your age I ever met!"

I looked at him carefully. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in quite a while, Andy. Thank you."

He smiled and glanced at me. "It's my pleasure, believe me."

When he dropped me off, we both promised to call each other as we warmly shook hands. I watched as he drove away. I still can't believe the conversation I'd just had with a real-life agent of the FBI! And I never fail to marvel at all the hurt that exists in the world at the hands of truly evil people.

It only took me a few minutes to drive to the office. When I tried to enter through my private door, for some reason, the door wouldn't open. Cursing under my breath, I walked all the way around the building to the main entrance. Since I rarely entered that way, my own security guard didn't recognize me, or at least he said he didn't. He insisted on calling Lucy to vouch for me before he'd let me in! Finally, he apologized, but in a way, I was grateful that he was doing his job so well.

As I arrived at my office, Lucy greeted me with an odd smile. "Hi, Alan! Nice of you to show up today! Did you forget to tell me your schedule, again?"

"Uh, I guess I did. I had a doctor's appointment at nine then a meeting with DPS and the FBI at DPS Headquarters. Then I had lunch with a new friend."

"Okay . . . . I need to know BEFORE hand in order to plan your calendar!" she said coldly. "Maybe next time you'll let me in on your secrets?"

"I'm sorry, Lucy. As usual, I'll try to remember." I know I should have told her my schedule, and I usually do, but this has been a very strange time in my life. I walked to my office door, which was closed. I was about to ask Lucy why it was closed when I opened it and the strong scent of roses almost knocked me over. There were red roses on every horizontal surface everywhere in my office!

I was standing there with my mouth hanging open, when I felt a small hand on my back push me the rest of the way through the door. As I stood there, stunned, I heard the door close and the lock click.