(by Edward Zeusgany and Alex Anders, © Copyright 1999, all rights reserved)

On Friday evenings, Kyle’s father came to pick him up in the camper. Mike had lived in it since the divorce six years ago, when Kyle was only seven. During the week, the RV, or recreational vehicle, was kept parked in his Uncle Brian’s back lot, but on weekends they took trips, towing Mike’s car behind them. Since it was the fishing season, they were going fishing.

Mike knew a hundred places to fish within a three hour drive from home. This time they headed northwest to an area of lakes and streams that they hadn’t visited in some time. It was after nine by the time they had registered at the campground, found their niche and hooked up the water and power.

Then they had their usual fight. Kyle wanted to go to the recreation hall, play video games and check out the other kids. Mike said they had to make an early start in the morning. Kyle said that was no problem. Mike said that it would be a problem in the morning when Kyle didn’t want to get up. Kyle said, “I know, but I still want to go out for a little while.”

Mike said, “OK, but only for a half hour.”

At 10:30 Mike went to get him. Kyle said he had lost track of time and didn’t complain about being collected. Mike didn’t complain about Kyle disobeying him.

*****

At first light, Mike made his coffee and finished in the bathroom before he physically hauled Kyle out of bed. They shared the double bed in the back compartment of the camper. The bench seats in the middle section could be made up into single beds, but Mike couldn’t be bothered with the extra work.

The teenager didn’t like sleeping with his father. The middle aged man’s strong odor bothered him. Mike had been thirty when he married and thirty five when his son was born. He looked at least five years older than his forty-eight years. Dad couldn’t help his smell, Kyle knew. He was clean enough, it was just the way he was.

Mike noticed the erection in Kyle’s briefs. Sometimes he’d kid the kid about how horny he was, but this time he didn’t say anything. It was already seven and it would take at least a half hour to get going without any distractions.

Kyle only brushed his teeth first thing in the morning. No one told him he should do it after eating sugar coated cereal or more than once a day. Not that he didn’t know. There were plenty of nauseating notices to that effect in hundreds of tooth paste advertisements on TV and elsewhere.

*****

Fishing gear was kept stowed in the car, so they didn’t need to bring much with them from the camper. Mike had a thermos of coffee for the early part of the day and a cooler of soda for later. They wore light jackets against the early chill.

Kyle’s father hadn’t any definite plan of where to go. He headed off almost at random waiting for a sign. They stopped at a few likely looking spots only to move on after a quarter hour or so. The sign, when it came, turned out to read, “Live Bait.” There were a half dozen cars in the gravel parking lot of a combination convenience store, post office, hang out. Some customers stood around outside.

Mike parked his dull orange Oldsmobile in the shade of an overhanging swamp maple. Kyle got out, shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He waited outside while his father went into the store to have a look around. The proprietor had a little of everything, including a liquor section. Bottles of the better brands sported a coating of dust.

He bought a package of mints, went back outside and sat on a rickety bench that was positioned next to the entrance. Opening the mints, Mike popped one into his mouth. His gaze took in the scene.

There was a group of three men talking and smoking to his left. An old man, clutching a paper bag, left the store, got into his pick up and slowly drove away. A car slowed in the street, then sped up again. Other vehicles whizzed by.

Kyle was waiting near Mike’s car, fidgeting and killing time. Leaning against a fender, he performed a few inclining push ups. Then he picked up a stone and tried to hit the trunk of a nearby tree, missing it by an inch. He jumped to touch the leaves of an overhanging branch.

He really is a good looking kid, Mike thought, observing the natural grace of the boy’s well coordinated movements. Sturdy yet trim, with a mop of golden blond hair streaked with brown, only Kyle’s toothy smile saved him from being handsome. Mike looked around to see who else was looking at Kyle. No one was.

A young fellow in his mid twenties drove in and parked his almost new sport utility wagon as close to the store entrance as he could. He went into the store and came out a few minutes later with a newspaper. Then the man joined the group of three. Mike couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it seemed to be light banter, judging from the expressions and laughter.

After a few minutes the young man separated himself from the others and opened his paper. He was a fine looking fellow, much like Kyle would be some day, except this guy had black hair. Mike could tell that he had noticed Kyle. Although the young man avoided staring at the boy, his eyes kept traveling back to where his son continued his adolescent gamboling. Mike walked in the young man’s direction, so that he might strike up a conversation as though in passing.

“Know any good spots for fishing around here?” he asked as he approached.

The young man glanced at Mike as though slightly startled. He paused, then said, “Well, there are quite a few. If you don’t have a boat, you can rent one at Loon Lake.”

“No out-of-the-way ponds?” Mike kept the discussion going.

The youngster chose that moment to join his father. “This is my son, Kyle,” he informed the other man.

Kyle stuck out his hand and smiled. “Hi.”

The man shook hands with the boy. “Hi,” he said, copying the lad’s greeting. “I’m Sal.” The two men shook hands.

After a little more conversation, Mike directed a question to Kyle that snapped the young man to attention. “Do you like Sal?” he asked the boy.

“Yeah,” Kyle answered enthusiastically.

Then to Sal, “Would you like to join us?” Mike named the campground where they were staying.

Sal was speechless. “I think Kyle would enjoy it if you fooled around with him a little,” the boy’s father opined.

“Sure!” the teenager piped up.

After some hesitancy and some further talk for Sal to be sure that he understood right, and when the young man didn’t perceive any sort of threat or danger, he agreed.

Sal followed them to the campground. Leaving his car in the visitor’s parking lot, he rode with them to their campsite.

*****

Once Sal was settled into one of the two armchairs in the front of the RV, Mike excused himself to use the bathroom. “We have to wait until my Dad gets back. He likes to watch me strip, hates to miss anything,” Kyle advised the young man.

“Does Mike mess around with you?” Sal probed.

“No! That would be incest,” the teenager insisted, making a grimace of disgust. Not that incest was really the lad’s objection to such a notion. Kyle didn’t go for middle aged men. Actually, he was only half gay and liked girls his own age as well as handsome, rugged young men. Not that Sal was all that rugged or all that handsome. He was close enough though, and Mike was for it.

As soon as Mike had returned and taken his place in the other arm chair, the driver’s seat when facing front, Kyle got naked. This was accomplished in a matter of fact manner rather than an exercise in seductive disrobing. As the now nude teenager came to him, Sal opened his knees and his arms to receive the boy.

Kyle, who enjoyed watching the man’s hands travel over his body, kept his eyes on them as much as possible. Both of them became noticeably excited. This was the time for careful calculation, as far as Mike was concerned. It was essential for him not be in too much of a hurry, but not to let the right moment pass.

Judging that to have arrived, he said to the young man, “See if you can make him come.” Sal didn’t need any further encouragement. Kyle watched the young man’s strong hand encircle his penis and begin its stroking action. The teenager put both of his hands behind his head and arched his back. He came in under two minutes, then hurried off to the bathroom, where he took a quick shower and retreated into the bedroom.

Handing a hand towel to the young man, Mike said, “Care for a blow job?”

This offer was seldom refused. The young man needed relief while at the same time he felt gratitude for the hospitality. Sal, like most of the young men Mike preferred, would close his eyes and think other thoughts as he stood in front of the kneeling middle aged man and pumped his hips.

*****

It was Mike’s mother-in-law who fouled things up. Shortly after Kyle turned sixteen and got his driver’s license, she bought herself a new car and gave her grandson the old one. The boy wanted to go off on his own, find a girl, or if he happened to hook up with a young man, he wanted to finish what he started without Mike’s help.

This left Mike at loose ends for a while. He used campgrounds closer to home on weekends. Kyle would spend some time with him, if he didn’t have to travel too far.

He often stayed near an amusement park where he could kill time before or after his son’s visit. There was always a steady stream of people to watch. One day, Mike found himself observing a man in his thirties accompanied by a young boy of about seven.

At first he didn’t know why he was looking at them. Then he realized that in some way the pair reminded him of Kyle and himself. Mike followed them at a distance and observed their interactions. They were obviously very close. The man touched the boy affectionately and frequently. The kid didn’t try to shake it off or move away as they do to avoid unwanted touching. Instead, the boy would move closer, sometimes seeking the man’s hand to hold.

Mike kept them in view for an hour or so before letting them slip out of sight. Then he sought out a hotdog stand for lunch. He took his hotdog, soda, order of onion rings and corn on the cob to a picnic table under an awning at the side of the place. He had just sat down when the man with the boy sat down opposite him.

The man asked Zach, that was the kid’s name, what he wanted. Then to Mike, “Watch my son for me,” as he rose to buy their food. The boy was cute with light brown hair, cut close except for a little tail in the back held in place by a red rubber band. Mike grunted an agreement.

When he looked in his direction, the kid gave him a shy little smile that pulled a greeting out of him in spite of himself. “Hi,” he said.

“What’s your name?” the boy asked. They chatted until the kid’s father returned with paper plates and cans of soda. The man set down the food and napkins, then sat. Sticking a hand out in Mike direction, he said. “Calvin.” They shook hands.

“Do you like kids?” Calvin asked, with a little more than the usual emphasis on the word, “like.”

“They’re OK,” Mike answered, “I have one of my own.”

Calvin was immediately interested and asked a lot of questions about Kyle. He implied that it would be nice if the four of them could get together. Mike didn’t tell the man that was unlikely.

Instead he mentioned his camper and that he and Kyle had found it to be convenient for entertaining. Although Calvin was ten years older than Mike would have preferred, he was ready to be flexible. It didn’t make any difference to him if the fellow got aroused by his own son.

When Calvin expressed interest in seeing Mike’s camper, the invitation was extended. That it didn’t work out was the fault of neither man. Calvin was surprised that Mike didn’t want to play with Zach. Mike was disappointed that Calvin wouldn’t accept fellatio. In the discussion that ensued, they figured out the reasons and formulated a remedy.

Calvin had Zach, Mike had the camper. What they needed was a third party, a young man with a boy of his own. If everything worked out right, everybody would be satisfied. They decided to join forces.

Calvin and Zach put on the show and Mike watched the crowd to spot and interview the interested young man. He found one the first Saturday afternoon. His name was Ruben. Carefully, Mike tiptoed around matters until he was sure that Ruben was as attracted to boys as Mike pretended to be.

Ruben really wanted to join them in the camper right away. He pleaded that he had a cooperative twelve year old nephew he could bring the next weekend. Calvin insisted that Ruben would have to wait. He wasn’t about to please everyone except himself.

When that following weekend arrived, Ruben was by himself. He was sorry, but his sister-in-law had made last minute plans to visit her parents and the nephew had to go with her. But the boy had her promise that he could go to the amusement park with his uncle on the next Saturday. The young man was so earnest and Mike was so keen that Calvin relented. The four of them went to Mike’s camper.

As soon as Zach had stripped and Calvin had begun to warm him up with a chest rub, Ruben pulled out a badge and placed the two men under arrest.

*****

Mike was charged with child molestation among a string of other offenses. To persuade his attorney that this was untrue, he had his son tell the lawyer the whole story. Kyle was willing to testify in court to help his dad.

It wouldn’t help, the attorney insisted. In showing that Mike wasn’t guilty of the one offense, he’d be providing evidence for a slew of others for a jury to find him culpable and of a sort and quantity that a judge would likely consider even more reprehensible than what he stood accused of.

His best hope was a plea bargain. However, the district attorney had decided to run for the office of attorney general and had elected to prosecute the case personally. A trial of the two men together was worth much more to him than Mike’s evidence and a couple of guilty pleas would be.

*****

In jail, Mike quickly persuaded the other inmates that he was not a pedophile. He survived and soon acquired the privileges of a trustee. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as he had feared.

Kyle did just fine, thank you very much.

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