Supes' Vacation VII

[aurelius]

Supes' Vacation VII

 

 

1

I love feeling his muscles when I kiss him.  I know they’re not as hard as mine.  But I still like how they feel and how Bruce, for all his dark pride, gives himself to me, trusts me so completely.  He knows I could kill him in an instant, so his trust is what I love so much: he trusts me and I value that more than anything.  I tongue him more, I’m all over him—and he’s all over me.  Once again, we’re rolling around on the bed.  For me, this is better than sex, because I’m fully in control; I know I won’t ever hurt him, since all I want to do is feel his muscles and wrangle his tongue with my own.  He sees me as human, and that trust makes me love him even more, makes me want to feel all his muscles, his whole body and to please his big cock.

 

So he fucks me—it’s always a joy for both of us: he gets the strongest man in the world; I get a lover who knows how to give me the greatest pleasure.  And I know I can’t hurt him as his big cock plows my ass and sends jolts of happiness through me.

 

But I want to do more.  So while we bask in afterglow, way back in my mind I’m thinking about how I can show Bruce how much he means to me.  Of course I’ve saved his life from gunfire and burning buildings, from avalanches and chemical vats—but that was work.  Anyone with the ability or power would have saved him.

 

What if I made Bruce a tropical paradise of our own?  Our own island getaway.  I mentioned it once before, but he dismissed it—too primitive for his more refined tastes.  But the idea still intrigues me.  And so, over the next couple of months, I take assignments in the Pacific: exposing corruption in Guam, exploring ethnic tensions in Hawaii, explaining new modern inventions in Japan—anything to get me close to the South Pacific, where I can squeeze in a few hours here and there, so I can fly off to a secluded, uninhabited tropical island and build an island getaway.

 

I always work fast.  It’s easy to find a couple sturdy palm trees and cut down some others to make pillars for a tropical hut.  And then I do it again, to make a hut for the boys—sure, we could all live together, but I’d rather Bruce and I had some privacy.  Besides, I can put the boys’ hut closer to the lagoon.  

 

It’s easy to strip a few palm fronds here, a few more there, and make lattice walls and ceilings.  Easy to find flat stones in the ocean bed and bring them up, to make cool floors for the huts.  Easy to rearrange some boulders to make a fire pit on the beach, and easy to rearrange some other boulders to make a staircase so the boys can climb to a diving platform by the waterfall into a deep lagoon.  

 

A bit harder to knit a large net for catching fish.  And a bit harder to shred some palm leaves to make stuffing for pillows—I bought the pillow cases in Tokyo, along with sheets.

 

And even more difficult to clear the lagoon of a huge octopus that could have strangled Carlos or Dick.  That took some time: to wrestle it out of its hole and fly it away from the island.

 

But there’s still plenty of work left to do—things that the boys or Bruce can do or I can do with them, like a make a canoe for taking the net out to catch fish.  Or making spears for catching fish in the shallows near the island.  Or gathering wood for the fire pit.  But I don’t want to do everything for them and deny the boys the opportunity to complain!

 

But the more I do, the more anxious I get about the whole thing.  I want to take Bruce and the boys to the island, but I’m not sure if I’ve done enough.  What if I take them and they’re disappointed?  What if they don’t like it at all?  And then I realize that my anxiety is showing, because Bruce puts his face close to mine and whispers,

 

“What’s wrong?  You’re acting strange.  Is there something we need to talk about?”  And he says it so quietly, so warmly, with his big hand on my shoulder—so beautifully that I can’t keep from telling him.

 

I reach up and draw his strong jaw down to my face and kiss him:  “You know me too well!”  I whisper.  And so I take a deep breath and say, “For the past two months I’ve been making a surprise for you and the boys—a Pacific island getaway.  And I don’t know if it’s done or if you’ll like it.  And the anxiety is killing me!”  I let out a huge breath.  “There, I’ve told you.  The cat’s out of the bag!”

 

But he doesn’t make a joke; instead he hugs my shoulders and brings his head next to mine.  And he smiles.  “I’m sorry you’ve been so anxious, Boy Scout!  Is this all because I made that crack awhile ago about you wanting to go to a tropical isle and fish?”  I nod.  He kisses me and says, “I didn’t mean it.  You mean more to me than anything, and I’m touched that you’ve worked so hard on this surprise!”  He pauses and then smiles: “And now I see why you’ve had all those assignments in Tokyo and Guam and Hawaii!”  I smile and say, “Pretty good that I was able to keep my secret for as long as I did!”  And I get another kiss.

 

But by this time, the boys know that something is up.  Dick comes over and says, “What are you two whispering about?”

 

Bruce turns to the boys and says, “Clark has been taking assignments in the Pacific so he can build an island getaway for us!”

 

The boys’ faces explode in smiles.  And then comes an avalanche of questions: “Can we go there now?  Does it have a pool?  A diving platform?  Can we make a dugout canoe?”

 

My eyes are full of tears; I wrap my big arms around them both and hug them to me.  This is the response I’d been hoping for: love from the big guy and joy from the boys.  My heart is full.

 

I wipe my eyes and say, “We can go whenever we can get a plane to Honolulu, and then we can get a boat so that I can fly all of you to the island.  Yes, there’s a pool—actually, a lagoon; I had to wrestle a big octopus out of it so that it wouldn’t strangle you guys.  But there may be smaller octopi that you can wrestle.  Yes, there’s a diving platform and boulder stair steps to get to it.  And there’s a fire pit and two huts with cool stone floors and palm lattice walls and even pillows.”

 

The boys are all smiles and excitement.  Bruce smiles; I’m sure he loves that I cleared the octopus from the lagoon and made a diving platform for Dick and Carlos.

 

I look around at the men I love: “I just wanted to do something to show you guys how much I love you!”  And I’m surrounded by muscular arms hugging me and warm kisses all over my head and body.  My heart is truly full.

 

 

2

So we fly to Honolulu, and then to a small airport on Kauai.  Bruce rents a boat—a small yacht—and we start sailing southwest.  We stock it with provisions: water, bread, peanut butter. fruit, energy bars, cookies, wine, cups, an axe, a shovel, some rope and other things.  Once we’re far enough from the harbor, I dive into the water, lift up the yacht and carry my men to the island.

 

I bring the boat down in the waters offshore and push it toward land.  The boys jump off the boat onto the sand and start running around like boys at Christmas: “There’s the hut for the dads!  There’s our hut!  This must be the path to the lagoon!”  Then Bruce and I hear joyous echoes as the boys find the lagoon and then as they dive into the lagoon.  

 

Bruce and I follow, arms around each other.  Bruce says, “This really is nice!  I want to see the hut, but let’s first go watch the boys!”  I smile and nod and we walk down the path to the lagoon.  The boys, of course, are doing the same acrobatics that they’d done diving off the high dive at Bruce’s pool.  The platform is only a little higher—and the boys are having such fun.  Bruce gives me a deep, long kiss.  

 

“Thanks for doing al this!” he says.  

 

Suddenly I’m feeling responsible: “Should we get the provisions off the boat?”

 

“We can get them later.  I want to see more of the island.”

 

So we start walking away from the lagoon into the trees.  We come to a big, thick tree.  Bruce turns to me and smiles: “Wouldn’t this make a great dugout canoe?”  I smile back and say, “Now you want to get some provisions?  Like the axe?  The shovel?  Or am I supposed to do all the work?”

 

“Well, you could!” he says with a smile, but he jogs back to the boat.

 

Meanwhile, I lift the big tree up out of the ground.  I wish I didn’t have to, but the alternative would be lifting many trees out of the ground to make a canoe with many smaller trunks.  I tear off the big tree’s roots and some of the branches.  By the time Bruce gets back with the axe, I’ve got most of the boughs and limbs off.  “OK,” he says.  “The rest is for me.”  And he starts hacking the remaining limbs from the trunk.

 

The boys have heard us; they come running.  Dick says, “Our dugout canoe!”  And he hugs Carlos.  I feel like Santa Claus—and I love it.

 

With all the limbs off and the trunk lying on its side, Bruce and I roll it a couple of times to see which side should be up.  It doesn’t take long to decide.  Bruce gets the shovel he brought from the boat.  “You burn; I shovel.”  I nod.  So I start with a fire along the top side of the trunk.  We let it burn a little while.  Then Bruce shoves dirt on it to stop the flames. Then he digs out the ashes and some of the burnt part.  I send another burst of fire along the top of the trunk, and we let that burn a little longer.  When it gets too wide, Bruce shovels dirt on it to stop the flames.  This process goes on a few more times.  The boys are sitting down, watching it unfold.  At least they’re not saying “When is it going to be done?”

 

We start to see a hollowed-out center to the canoe.  Now I send fire along the two sides, to widen the space.  And Bruce shovels the dirt so that the space doesn’t get too wide.  The canoe now looks like it can hold the two boys.  Bruce says, “Clark, blow on the canoe so that it’s cool.”  I do.  Then he says, “Dick, Carlos get in and see if you both fit.”  They do—even though they both get charcoal all over their legs.  “We can wash it off in the lagoon!” Carlos says brightly.  The boys fit.

 

So Bruce hands Dick the axe and says, “The rest is your job: take off the bark, and hack off some wood for the oars—take some from the front and back, make the canoe come to a point, front and back.  And here are some knives for you to carve the oars!  We’re going to take a rest!”  Bruce puts his big arm around me and we go off to our hut.  On our way we hear Dick with the axe and I imagine Carlos is using a knife, stripping the trunk of its bark.  The boys’ chatter fades as we go back to the beach and walk up from the beach into our hut.

 

“Wow!  This is nice!” Bruce says as he walks onto the cool stone floor.  “And you have pillows!”  And I lift up one of the pillows and say, “And sheets!  After all, it will get cool at night!”  Bruce comes over and plants a big kiss on my lips.  I’m already getting hard.  “Do you think we can?”  I say.  “Technically we wouldn’t be resting!”

 

Bruce smiles and says, “They’ll be at it for an hour or more—and who knows, they may take a break and go back to the lagoon!”

 

“Or get hungry and show up at our hut, like little birds wanting to be fed!”

 

“Yeah, that could happen.  Can’t we just tell them to get peanut butter sandwiches from the stuff on the boat?”

 

“Works for me!”  And I pull him down on top of me, wrapping my arms around his big body.

 

 

3

It’s idyllic—which is what I wanted.  The boys get the canoe mostly done, and they push and drag it out onto the beach.  The oars still need to be finished.  But they’re hungry and so are Bruce and me—after a nice long fuck.  So I send the boys off to find wood for the fireplace, while I dive into the ocean, looking for something to eat.

 

I find a shark which won’t take too long to cook.  I slam my fist into its head, then fly it out of the ocean and back to the beach.  The boys have wood in the fireplace.  I light the wood and toss the shark on top of the fireplace.  “Now, we’ll need to turn it a couple of times.  And we’ll need more wood!”  So the boys run off into the jungle to find more wood.

 

Meanwhile, Bruce has been rummaging in the yacht.  He brings out two bottles: “Red or white for the shark?”  I say, “Both?”  Bruce smiles.  He brings the wine; then he goes back for the cups.  The boys return with two arms full of wood.  Just in time—the fire needs replenishing.

 

“Why can’t you just zap the shark with your heat?” Carlos wants to know.

 

“I could; but it wouldn’t taste as good!”  Still, I do zap the shark to hurry it up.  Bruce picks up one of the knives from the canoe and goes over to the shark, sticks the knife in and says, “I think you zapped it just right!”  He slices off a chunk of shark and tosses it to me.  “It’s hot!” I say.  “So?” he says and smiles.  So I take a bite.  It’s good.  “Stab the beast a few more times; if it’s all cooked, I’ll blow out the fire!”  So Bruce stabs the shark three more times—and the whole thing is cooked.  I blow out the fire.  Then I think better of it:  I go over to the fire place and scoop up some of the embers and bring them out to the beach.  I ask Dick to bring over some of the unburnt wood.  We start a campfire for us on the beach.  Bruce slices off shark steaks and tosses them to each of us.  Carlos and Bruce come down to sit with Dick and me around the campfire.

 

It’s twilight.  Perfect.

 

“I wish I’d thought of marshmallows!” I say.

 

“I did!” says Carlos, and he runs back to the boat.

 

So our first supper on the island is shark steaks and marshmallows—and wine.  Not bad.

 

Bruce turns to me and says, “Thank you, again, for this!”

 

And the boys echo him: “Yeah, thanks, Clark!” says Dick.

 

And Carlos says “Yeah, thanks, Dad!”

 

“Gee guys, are we going to sing ‘Kumbaya’?”  I say.

 

“Well, isn’t that something the scouts sing?”  Bruce smiles, but then he says, “On second thought, I don’t think any of us sing very well—maybe Dick.  Dick do you want to give us a rendition of ‘Kumbaya’?

 

“Nope.”  And we all laugh.  

 

“Still, I love this,” I say.  “Us around a campfire on a beach with the waves lapping at the shore, and the stars shining above us—and my love with his arm around me—I can’t ask for more!”

 

“Well, I can,” says Carlos.  “I wanna fuck!”  And he plants a kiss on Dick and they both get up and run off to their hut.

 

“And I didn’t get to tell them about the sheets!” I say.

 

“They’ll figure it out!”  And we snuggle together on the beach and watch the fire die down to embers and the stars get brighter.  After a long while—and we can hear the moans and noises of the boys making love—we kiss, get up, and walk to our hut and make our own fuck music.

 

 

4

The idyll continues: the next day the boys finish their oars and take the canoe out in the shallow water to try it out.  Then Carlos leaps out and wades ashore to pick up the fish net.  He brings it to the canoe and the boys paddle out to deeper waters.  Bruce and I watch from the shore.  

 

“They’ll be OK,” I say more to myself than to him.  “Yeah; they’re both excellent swimmers.”

 

Still, we watch them like hawks as they get the fishnet tangled and then untangled, and then drop it over the side of the canoe and keep one hand on the net and another hand on an oar.  

 

“They’ll need to figure out a better way to secure the net while they paddle,” says Bruce.

 

“Did we bring a hammer?”

 

“No, but a thick stone should do—they need to put a couple of pegs on the side of the canoe.”

 

“I hope this is the most pressing problem we have!” and I laugh.  Bruce also laughs.  But then we notice that the boys are pulling up the net—and it’s got some fish in it!  

 

Dick paddles toward the shore.  Carlos keeps his hands on the net.  Then Dick gets out of the canoe and pushes it onto the shore.  Carlos drags the net up from the water; he stands and says, “Look!  Our first catch!”  He beams.  Dick beams.  There are over a dozen fish in the net.  Not a big haul, but then there’s only four of us, and it is their first time.  Bruce and I stand and applaud.  “Bravo!”  “Well done!”  I turn to Bruce and say, “Since they got the food, I guess we have to get the wood!”  Bruce smiles and we both walk to the trees.  

 

With wood in the fireplace, I start a fire and Carlos and Dick throw fish on the grate.  They don’t take long to cook.  The shark from last night’s supper still has a few steaks on it.  It sits at the back of the grate; the fish are on the front.

 

Soon the fish are cooked.  Carlos and Dick use sticks to move them to the side of the grate to cool.  Then they start handing out the fish.  We peel off the scales and bite into the cooked flesh.  Delicious.

 

“You know how we can tell that this is a secluded island?”  Bruce says.  We look at him; Dick says, “OK, I’ll bite—No.”  

 

“No cats!  If there were any cats on the island, they would have finished the shark by now and they would be all over the fish!”

 

We eat all the fish and a few more shark steaks.  Bruce and I are happy to stay on the shore, letting the waves hit our feet and legs.  The boys take off for the lagoon.  

 

I snuggle close to the big guy.  “Is there something I’ve forgotten?”

 

“Really?  Can’t you just enjoy this beautiful spot?”  And he kisses me.  “I’m happy; the boys are happy.  You’ve done all the work—well, we all made the canoe, but otherwise, you’ve done all the work.  Let yourself enjoy the moment!”

 

“OK” and I snuggle closer.  

 

But after a while I’m missing something—I don’t hear the boys yelling as they dive, or chattering about something or other.  Outside of the waves, there’s quiet.  Too much quiet.

 

 

5

“Dick!”  “Carlos!”  We call for the boys at the lagoon.  We walk around the lagoon, calling.  We wander away from the lagoon, still calling.  

 

Bruce says, “Do you see anything with your vision?”  I look around—no boys.

 

“Do you see any clues?”  “Their towels—but that’s it,” he says.  

 

Then I say what I fear: “I’m going to dive in the lagoon and look for them.”  And I dive.  I swim around in the lagoon—no boys, and better, no boys’ bodies.  I go back up to tell Bruce.  I get to the surface and shake my head.

 

“Could they have gotten trapped in the old octopus hole?” he says.  So I dive again, straight for the octopus hole.  I look inside.  But then I hear something.  It’s not the boys, but it’s something strange.  So I put my ear next to the rock wall of the lagoon, and then I try to see through the wall of the lagoon—I say “try” because I can’t.  It must have lead in it.  But this makes me want to listen more closely to the wall, so I do.  Again, I hear something—some sloshing, and then some low tones.  But water wouldn’t slosh unless there wasn’t much water there, and what makes low tones?

 

So I surface again and tell Bruce that I’ve heard some sloshing and low tones.  He dives in.  I show him where I heard the sloshing and the low tones; he puts his ear there; he nods to me—he hears it too.  He signals we should surface again.

 

We’re treading water at the surface.  Bruce says, “I think there’s a cavern behind the lagoon wall.  And the low tones may be some kind of animal.  Can you knock a hole in the wall—closer to the surface so that not too much water falls into the cavern?”  I nod.  We dive again, but not so deep.  I lightly tap the wall of the lagoon above the place where I heard the sloshing.  And even further above—I’m trying to see if the cavern goes all the way up the wall of the lagoon.  I think it does.

 

So, only about two yards below the surface, I push at the wall of the lagoon, to see if there’s a portion which will give way.  After he catches a breath at the surface, Bruce is right with me.  What I push and break, he holds, so that we don’t make a big splash on the other side of the lagoon wall.  But even with the little part of the wall that I push through, the water gushes from the lagoon to the other side of the wall.  We have to wait for the water to subside so we can wiggle through the hole in the lagoon wall, and see what’s on the other side.

 

It’s a huge cavern, and there’s an eerie green glow coming from further in the cavern.  Bruce taps me on my shoulder and holds his finger up to his lips.  I nod—silence is better.  If the boys are in trouble, we want to see what kind of trouble, and where they are.

 

There are big boulders along the side of the cavern.  We can hide ourselves behind these boulders—just barely, at times, since we’re two big guys.  But we make our way down the lagoon wall, keeping ourselves behind big borders, and then we go further into the cavern, still able to hide ourselves behind boulders.  However, the further we go, the smaller the boulders and soon we’re each stooping behind separate boulders, still trying to keep ourselves hidden.

 

But we’re getting closer to the green glow, and the low tones have become a constant humming sound.  Bruce signals for me to go further, since I’m an inch or so shorter than he is.  So I do.  I get closer to the green glow and the humming.  But I keep looking back at Bruce, to keep him in my line of sight.

 

And then I see a place some twenty or thirty feet in front of me, and above me.  I could fly to it and get a good look at the whole cavern.  So I signal to Bruce and point to the lookout.  He gets what I intend—he knows me so well—and I fly up to the lookout.  

 

And I see the boys!  They’re tied with some kind of green rope—or maybe it’s kelp.  Tied to stone columns.  And strange green, glowing creatures seem to be caressing their bodies—their arms, their legs, their perfect torsos—with arms that took very strange: long fingers with small, dark circles on them, and arms with larger dark circles on them.  And their heads look like blobs of something—sort of like flesh.  It’s hard to tell from this distance.  But the heads seem to be humming.

 

The boys look to be asleep—their heads hang down on their chests.  It seems they’re naked—it’s hard to tell with the arms of the creatures caressing their bodies.  And it seems that the head of one of the creatures is right over each boy’s cock.  And then that creature lifts up its head and moves over, and another creature puts his head over a boy’s cock.  Are they sucking the boys’ cocks?  

 

I need to talk with Bruce, so I fly back to the boulder where I was, and then jump up to the boulder where Bruce is hiding.

 

 

6

I whisper: “I saw the boys!  They seem to be alive, tied up to some stone pillars while these green glowing creatures with dark circles on their fingers, hands and arms, caress each boy—and other creatures have their blob-like heads over their cocks—like they’re sucking the boys’ cocks!”  Bruce says, “Shhh!”  I guess I got carried away.  He thinks.

 

Then he says, “You’re the only one who can rescue them.  My hunch is that the round circles on their hands and arms carry some kind of electrical current.  Dick and Carlos are both too fit, too strong to be easily subdued.  But they could have been shocked—literally—enough to give in.  And it seems these creatures have to keep shocking them to control them.“  It makes sense to me, so I nod.

 

“And why they want to suck off two athletic boys—I don’t know.  But I want the boys free!”  “So do I!”  “But,” he says, “as soon as you get close to the boys, the creatures will probably try to subdue you.  My hunch is that you’ll be able to withstand their electric currents—at least enough to rescue the boys.”  He pauses and looks at me, “But you’re going to be putting yourself in danger, Boy Scout!”  “I don’t care—I want the boys free!”  Bruce gives me a hug and kiss.  He breaks our kiss and holds my shoulders with his two big hands: ‘“You ready to do this?”

 

“Sure!”  I give him one last kiss on his cheek; then I turn and whisper, “I think bringing one at a time will be easiest—will you be able to get them out?”  He looks at the opening in the cavern I made: “Maybe you’d better take each boy to the opening.  Hopefully, as soon as they’re taken away from the creatures’ arms, they’ll wake up and I can get them out into the lagoon.”  I nod and fly back to my lookout.

 

I look down on the boys and the creatures.  I see that I can fly down, hover above them and pull a boy up by his arms and then fly him to Bruce.

 

So that’s what I do.  As soon as the creatures see me hovering above Dick, their humming increases.  Some of them remove their arms from Dick and Carlos and wag them at me.  I guess they don’t have enough muscle in their arms to point, so they wag.  I reach down and grab Dick’s hands.  I pull him free of the kelp ropes—for the green ropes are kelp—and drag him away from the creatures’ arms and up into my arms.  Dick wakes up but is groggy.  I kiss him, then fly him to Bruce at the opening in the cavern.  Bruce takes him in his arms, kisses him and they both go out the opening, into the lagoon.

 

I go back for Carlos.  I’m hovering above him.  But the creatures have started oozing their way up the stone pillars—they pull themselves up by their long tentacle-like arms.  As soon as I take hold of Carlos’ hands and start dragging him away from them and into my arms, I feel the shock of one of the creature’s hands—and then another—and then a third.  I quickly embrace Carlos to me, kiss him, and try to fly away.  But it’s hard to fly away—the creatures have me by my foot, shocking it and controlling it.  I kick the creatures away.  I fly up again, away from the creatures.

 

But they have learned where I’m going.  They’re already collecting by the boulders and oozing themselves over one boulder and another.  By the time I get to the opening, Bruce is there, waiting with open arms to take Carlos from me.  But just below Bruce are a bunch of creatures, wagging their tentacle-like arms in the air as I bring Carlos to Bruce and put him in Bruce’s arms.  Bruce smiles at me—

 

And I fall backwards, feeling more and more little electrical shocks on my feet, my calves, then my thighs and then my body and then everything goes dark.

 

 

7

I feel darkness and humming.  I can’t make my muscles move.  I’m surrounded by humming; I feel humming all through my body, and I can’t move my muscles.  Maybe there’s a connection.  I can open my eyelids a little.  I am looking down on green glowing creatures with their tentacle-like arms wagging at me and on me, fixing their hands and arms on my lower legs, my thighs, my abs and torso.  Some have even oozed their way up to my arms, which are above my head.   I can look at them more closely: I see that their legs are just longer, thicker tentacles.  I have a vague idea that they may be some strange children of the big octopus.  I figure that I’m now tied to the pillars where Dick and Carlos had been.

 

My cock is surrounded by a humming warmth.  And the humming keeps my cock up and hard.  I also feel soft things—sort of like lips—running along and up and down my cock.  I have the vague sense that I’ve already cum a couple of times, but the humming warmth around my cock keeps me hard, keeps working my cock, wanting me to cum again.  It’s not unpleasant—just strange, weird.  It’s like an electric vagina: soft and oozy, as if that’s supposed to make my cock hard.  It doesn’t but the soft and oozy humming keeps going, and occasionally an electric shock stabs my balls, gives them a little jolt, and demands that my cock stay hard, that it cum again.

 

I’ve been a cum cow—but on my terms, when I wanted to change young men, to give them more muscle.  But this is me being a passive cum cow, or more like a cum stick—something that makes cum whenever the green creatures want it.

 

And I can’t move my muscles.  Here I am, Superman, strongest man on the planet, and I can’t move my muscles.  All the little and bigger electrical circles on the creatures’ fingers and arms keep sending current into me.  It’s as if their current cancels out my own nerves.  I suddenly wonder if this will continue so long that I’ll lose all muscle tone and become a big bag of wasted muscle and loose skin.  I guess they don’t care—as long as they get my cum.

 

And I just shot again.  I hardly felt it.  And I certainly didn’t buck or move my hips at all.  I’m just hanging, wasting meat.

 

The humming gets some shape.  I can hear what almost seem like words.  I hear a slow, steady, long “Waaannnnnt” in one hum.  And I hear “Moooorre” in another hum.  I wonder if I’m hallucinating, or if the creatures are beginning to form words—and why would they form English words?

 

But now I realize I can open my eyes a bit more.  I don’t do it—I want to look like I’m still under their total control.  But I now know that I can open my eyelids some.  It may come in handy.  If I start to feel like I can use my eyes and even use heat vision—that may be a way I can get free.

 

I hope Carlos and Dick are free and Bruce is nursing them back to health.  I love the boys.  I love that Bruce and I invited Carlos to Wayne Manor and as soon as Carlos saw Dick, they fell for each other.  I love that story.  I guess I can just think about that story and not worry about anything.

 

And I cum again—but I shouldn’t be cumming so much.  This is not a good thing.  I can’t just think about how much I love the boys; I have to think of myself too; I have to think about finding a way out of here.

 

 

8

Don’t these creatures take a break?  Are they addicted to cum?  Or do they just like my cum?  But they didn’t let Carlos and Dick have a rest, either.  So I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to get free of them on my own.  It may take some time.

 

But then I fade out—I’m surrounded by humming darkness again.  It’s a soup, a dark, slowly swirling soup of humming, constant humming that wants my cum, that wants to drain me again and again.

 

And then I cum again and I wake up a little.  I have no idea how long I was out.  But now I feel even less control over my body.  Their hands and arms keep wagging in front of me, around me, and then catching onto my legs, my thighs, my abs—and shocking me with small but constant electrical currents.  I have to stay awake.  I have to figure out how to get free of these creatures.

 

And then I feel something different.  I feel it at the tips of my fingers of my right hand.  I want to look up, but I know I shouldn’t, so I don’t.  But it feels—it feels like rope.  It feels like the new rope we packed on the yacht.  And it makes me think that my love—my smart, cunning, resourceful love—has figured out where to dig a hole so he can lower a rope down to me.  

 

I guess I should grab it.  But I’m going to wait until it gets a little lower, and until I feel I can grab the rope and also open my eyes and use my heat vision to burn some of these creatures.  So I let the rope dangle around my fingers, then down to my hand, and then to my wrist.  And then I close my eyes and feel the heat build up in my eyes.  I will have to do this all at once: grab the rope, open my eyes and burn the creatures and somehow also kick my legs.  I test my legs.  I can feel my thigh muscles tighten a little.  I guess the creatures think I’m so completely subdued that they don’t have to keep sending electrical currents through my legs.

 

And I test my arms—yes I can tighten my forearms and biceps a little.  And I let the heat vision build up in my eyes, and build up.

 

And then I open my eyes and let the heat vision go—I burn several green creatures; they stagger back, removing their tentacle arms from my legs entirely—and I can kick my legs and kick them away, kick myself free from them.  And then I turn my eyes and burn green creatures to my left and to my right.  They stagger back, removing their tentacles from my arms.  And I can flex my arms again!

 

And now I grab the rope and tug—and I hope that Bruce and the boys can pull me up!

 

And I start to go up!  They’re pulling me up!  And I see the green creatures falling away from me.  Some are oozing up the pillars, trying to get to me again, but Bruce is strong, and I imagine the boys are helping him, and I’m going up, up—

 

And I feel dirt with my fingers.  And I hear the voice of the man I love say “Steady, Boy Scout!  You’re almost here!”  But I can’t wait—I have to see him!  So I make my hand into a fist and I try to fly—to fly up through the dirt—

 

And I do.  I’m suddenly above ground!  And Bruce is throwing his arms around me, and Carlos and Dick are crying and they have their arms around me—I’m free!

 

 

9

Bruce keeps his arm around my shoulders as we walk toward the shore.  The boys are right behind us.  “How do you feel?” Carlos asks.  “A lot better with my love’s arm around me and you boys free!”

 

I can probably walk on my own, but why would I want that?  It’s much nicer to have Bruce’s arm around me.  We walk down to the shore.  It appears that I’m free, but also needed: there’s wood in the fire place.  Dick says, “I know you just got free, but could you please light my fire?”  He smiles.  I love that he knows The Doors.  So I zap the wood and it blazes.  The boys throw fish on the grate.

 

“You boys have been busy!”  I say.

 

“They gotta eat!” says Bruce.

 

“And so do I!  Thanks for the invite to lunch!”  I pause and look around.  “Is it lunch?”

 

Bruce says, “Call it a late lunch!”

 

“I guess I was down there a while—and they kept sucking my cum!” 

 

“That’s what they did to us!” Carlos says as he turns a fish.  He and Dick have learned how to turn fish with a forked twig.  

 

“Let’s sit you down,” Bruce says.  And I’m glad he does.  I was getting light-headed.  

 

The sun feels wonderful.  I don’t like letting go of Bruce’s arm around my shoulders, but I have to stretch out and let the sun’s rays soak into my skin.  “Yes!  I need this!”  I look over at Bruce.  He’s smiling as he says, “I know that you do!” and he bends down to kiss me.  It’s a bit of heaven.

 

Dick says, “Clark, this first one is for you!”  And he tosses me a fish—it lands on my abs.  It’s hot, but I don’t care.  I pick it up, then sit up and bite into the fish.  It tastes wonderful.

 

“So, have you guys gotten better at fishing?”

 

‘Yeah,” Carlos says as he tosses a fish to Bruce.  “Bruce hammered in a couple of thick sticks so that we can hang the net on the side of the canoe—we can simply paddle and the fish seem to want to climb into the net!”

 

“And,” says Dick, “We don’t even have to mess with the net until we get back to shore.  It means we get a lot more fish!”  He tosses me another one; then a couple to Bruce; then he and Carlos pick up three fish each, come over to us, and sit with us on the sand.

 

It’s late afternoon.  I notice that the sun is falling in the western sky. 

 

“I’m happy to hear the net is working well, but I imagine you’re tired of fish.  Time for me to get another shark?”

 

“Or you could kill a bunch of octopus-men!”  Carlos says.

 

“What?” I say.  “You want to eat them?”

 

“Not really—I just want them dead!”

 

“Me too,” says Dick.  “Don’t you?”

 

I think for a moment and look at Bruce.  He’s staying silent—but then, he loves being silent.  “I don’t know.  I thought I heard them saying words.”

 

“What?”  Carlos has fish hanging from his mouth—he’s surprised.  So is Dick.

 

“Yeah,” I say. I turn toward Bruce and say, “I guess I could have been hallucinating, but I thought I heard them say “Waaaannt” and “Mooorre!”  It was like they were trying to say words in their humming.’”  The boys still look astonished.  “I know; it sounds crazy, but I got the impression that they were trying to communicate—either with each other, or maybe even with me!”

 

I look around at the men I love.  They’re all dumbfounded.

 

 

10

Bruce is thinking—of course.  Then he pauses from eating fish and says, “OK; I think we need to take stock of the boys’ experience with the octopus-men, and your experience.”   He looks at the boys and then at me.  

 

“Maybe we should start at the beginning:  Dick, what do you remember about getting captured?”

 

“I dove deep into the lagoon.  I felt tentacles wrapping around my arms and dragging me down.  Then I noticed more tentacles around my legs.  I couldn’t move my muscles.  I started to black out, but I saw they were dragging me to the wall of the lagoon.”

 

“And you, Carlos?”

 

“I waited for Dick to surface.  When he didn’t, I thought something had gone wrong, so I dove in.  Soon I felt tentacles around my arms and legs.  The creatures dragged me to a boulder in the wall.  They moved it with their free tentacles and dragged me into a pool on the other side of the wall.  Then I blacked out.”

 

Bruce says to the boys: “Were you ever awake while you were down there?”

 

Carlos says, “Not me—I was out until I felt Dad’s kiss.”  Dick nods and says, “Me too!”  Bruce looks at me.  I’m smiling—I kind of like being the prince to waken these sleeping beauties with a kiss!

 

Bruce turns to me: “Were you able to be awake at all while you were down there?”

 

“Well, I was out at times,” I say, “but I was also able to open my eyes just a little.  And then when I felt the rope—and thank you, thank you, thank you for that!”  And I reach over a kiss Bruce on his lips.  “When I felt the rope, I started to figure out if I could summon some heat vision, and I started to check my thigh muscles and arm muscles, to see if I could kick the creatures away and get free.”

 

“So,” Bruce says, “You were not always out.  You were sometimes at least aware, and you were aware enough to start making a plan when you felt the rope.”  He pauses and looks at the boys.  “I think Clark was more Superman—maybe not all the time, but at least toward the end of his captivity.”

 

“Yeah,” I say.  “I faded in and out.  Sometimes all I knew was humming darkness.”

 

“That’s what I felt,” says Dick, “—but all the time!”

 

I turn to Dick and say, “And did you know when you were cumming?”

 

“Sometimes, I guess, but it was like someone else was cumming—I was detached from my own body.”  Carlos nods to everything his love says.

 

“And I also was unaware of cumming.  But then sometimes I was aware—aware enough to know that I wanted it to stop.  But they were such greedy bastards!”

 

“And that’s why I want them dead!”  says Carlos.  I love the boy, but he lives in a very simple, black-and-white world.  He turns to me, almost pleading: “All you have to do is jump up and down on the ground above the cavern—and send it crashing down on them—kill them all!”

 

“Well,” I say, “I’m not at full strength; I don’t think I could jump up and down enough to make the ground crash down into the cavern.”  But I pause and look more closely at Carlos—and I try to tell him with my eyes how much I love him.  “But, my love, I’m not sure I want to.”

 

“What?”  he says. “How can you NOT want to?  They’re cum-stealing freaks!  They would have sucked Dick and me dry if you hadn’t rescued us—and they would have sucked you dry too—and kept you there until you were a sack of bones with a working cock!”  His eyes are fires.  He looks at me and yells, “You know that they would!”  Dick caresses Carlos’ back and puts his arm around his love.

 

“Yes,” I say, “You’re right.  They would have sucked me until I was a sack of wasted muscle and bone—just to get my cum.”  I pause.  “But I still don’t want to slaughter them.”

 

Bruce is looking at me.  And I know just what he’s thinking: “Boy Scout!”

 

 

11

Bruce puts his hand on my thigh and says, “Careful, Boy Scout!  I’m not sure these creatures want to share this island.  If you don’t kill them, it may mean we’ll have to leave!”  He’s serious.  I try to be lighter: “So, no peaceful coexistence?”  But he doesn’t smile.

 

“The boys are scared,” he says.  “They slept in our hut last night.  Of course, the octopus-men were more interested in sucking you off, so the boys got a good night’s sleep.  And they’re much better today!”  And I realize that I’ve been selfish.  Of course the boys are scared—they don’t want to go back to the cavern.  

 

“But,” says Bruce, “They haven’t gone back to the lagoon.  They went fishing, and then swam some in our bay, but they won’t go back to the lagoon until we—or you—kill the creatures.”

 

“So then my island getaway is already spoiled,” I say, mostly to myself.  Bruce puts his arm around my shoulders.  I kiss him, but then I pull back.  And Bruce looks at me closely.  Then he looks at both boys and says, 

 

“You know I love you both, right?”

 

“We know, Dad,” says Dick.

 

“But you also know I love this man.”  He gives my shoulders a little squeeze.  “You know, I don’t call him ‘Boy Scout’ just to tease him.”  I look at him askance.

 

“OK, I do.”  And everyone chuckles.  But then he clutches my shoulder harder and pulls me to him.  “But I also call him that because he’s good, and he wants to do good.  And right now he’s very conflicted.  Because he loves you boys as much as I do—“ I start to tear up; true love is knowing how to help your lover say things he can’t—

 

“But he also wants to help the octomen!”  The words escape from Carlos as if he’s tried to keep them in.  He turns to me: “Clark, Dad, I love you more than my own father.  You’ve given me a life I love, and I love you for it.”  He pauses.  “I really don’t understand you wanting to help the octomen, but—“ He pauses again. “—if you think you have to do it, then it’s OK by me.”  And I see tears are starting down Carlos’ face—and down Dick’s as well: “And it’s OK by me, too!” he says.

 

And Bruce says, “I’ve always known you would—it’s who you are!”

 

Tears are running down my face.  I reach out and hug the boys to me and raise my head to Bruce and kiss his face.  “Thanks, guys!  I don’t have any idea what I’ll do or how I can help them, but I couldn’t do anything without your love!”  And I hug the boys to me. 

 

“And now,” I say, “Let’s swim out to the ocean where I can throw you high in the air and you can do all sorts of crazy dives for your dads!”

 

The boys’ faces light up.  Bruce smiles, stands up and helps me up.  We all run into the ocean, swim out about a hundred yards and I become a Kryptonian water cannon, throwing the boys up in the air so they can spin and tuck and fling open their arms as they fall back into the water.  I look at Bruce and say “You wanna fly for a bit?”  And he smiles, comes over and I toss him up—not as high, because he’s about twice the weight of each of the boys—but still, it’s a way to show them I love them.

 

And after the diving gymnastics, I tell Bruce and the boys to swim back to shore, while I track down another shark for supper.  They have to get the wood; I’ll provide the fish.

 

It’s twilight as we eat the shark.  Bruce checks with the boys—do they still want to sleep with us?  Dick gets a sly grin on his face; he whispers “Orgy!” to Carlos, who breaks out in a smile.  Of course I hear it all.  I think Bruce does too.  But we go to our hut and snuggle a bit—and soon we’re attacked by two over-sexed young men.

 

 

12

I always love feeling the hard dicks of the men I love.  It’s easier to take them in my ass than try to keep myself from killing them with my cock.  But the boys are equal-opportunity fuckers: they fuck Bruce hard too.  And I’m happy to let them suck my cock as well: I know my cum won’t have much effect, but maybe they’ll feel a bit stronger, if only psychologically.

 

And then the best part: cuddling.  Bruce and I cuddle while the boys plow each other’s asses—again.  They wanted an orgy.  I guess it’s their way of letting off steam, of feeling fully protected and at home. I can feel Bruce smiling behind me as I snuggle against his warm body, feel his breath on my neck and smell his beautiful smell all around me.  Yes, home.

 

And then, later, with everyone asleep, with Bruce’s arm over my body and my left arm outstretched, I feel something on the fingers of my left hand.  It’s clammy.  And I feel it again.  And yes, it’s a little electrical shock.  I open my eyes.  

 

I look into the eyes of one of the octomen.  He’s stretched out to me: his body flat on the floor and one of his tentacle arms touching my finger. 

 

I carefully remove Bruce’s arm and just as carefully slide out from his embrace.  I’m sure he’ll eventually miss me, but I’m going to leave the hut with the octoman.

 

I stand up and walk out of the hut.  The octoman stands up outside the hut.  The moon is high.  Five other octomen stand near him, right in front of me.  But none of them look threatening.  I motion for us to go down to the shore.  They lead the way.

 

At the shore, the octomen lie down the edge of the water, with the waves lapping over their legs.  I sit in front of them on the sand.  I say, “I want to help you, but I don’t know how.”

 

The ottoman who woke me up puts his hand on my arm.  I hear a voice in my head: “You gave us talk.  We thank you.  We want more your juice.  It help us grow.”

 

I nod my head but I say, softly but firmly, “OK, but you must agree to some things: you will never capture my boys ever again—understand?”  And I point back to our hut and say softly: “NO!  You will never—never—touch my boys again!  They must be allowed to swim in the lagoon without fear of your capturing them again.  Do you understand?”

 

The octoman again puts his hand on my arm: “We never touch boys again.  Their juice is not as good as yours.  We want your juice.”

 

So I say, “I will feed only three of your men at a time.  Three men tonight.  Any more and I will get weak.  And not be able to love my man.  Do you understand?”

 

The octomen look at each other and touch each other with their tentacle arms.  Some seem upset.  But the main octoman touches my arm again and I hear “Yes.”

 

So I jerk my cock and get it hard.  The main octoman puts his warm and slippery mouth over my cock and starts teasing it.  Pretty soon I cum.  The octoman turns to his neighbor and they put their mouths together—they seem to be sharing my cum.

 

I look around and notice that Bruce is sitting in the doorway of the hut—just sitting there.  I smile at him but don’t wave, and he doesn’t wave either.  Soon I’m ready to go again.  I jerk my cock again and the third octoman puts his mouth on my cock and starts milking it.  After I cum, that octoman shares my cum with another of his brothers.  And then the whole process repeats.

 

The main octoman touches my arm again and says, “Thank you!”  I stand up.  The octomen start swimming into the waves.  I wave at them; they wave their long tentacle arms at me as they slip beneath the water.

 

As I walk up to the hut, Bruce whispers, “I missed you and figured something was going on.”  I sit by him and hug him.  “Yeah.  One of them came into the hut and touched my finger—very gently.  I walked out with them and told them that I would help them, but they had to leave the boys alone.  The boys can dive into the lagoon without fear.  The main octoman said they don’t want the boys’ cum—they only want mine.  Apparently, my cum helps them talk!”

 

 

13

In the morning the boys wake up first and run down to the beach.  They discover a medium shark on the shore near the fireplace.  Dick calls out, “Clark?  Did you sleep-swim or something?  Did you get this shark in your sleep?”

 

I roll out of Bruce’s arms and stand up, but then I turn back and look at him: “This would be better if you’re with me.”  He nods and we go down to the beach together.

 

“No, Dick.  This shark is from the octomen.  They visited me last night and I jerked off for them.”

 

Dick and Carlos both look concerned and a bit upset.  “But,” I continue, “I said I would only feed them my cum if they promised never to touch you boys again.  They agreed—besides, they said, they only want my cum—apparently, it helps them talk and develop.”

 

Carlos says, “Well, that’s weird.  But food is food.”  Then he punches Dick’s arm and says, “Let’s get some wood!”  They run off the beach to find wood.  

 

I turn to Bruce; he says, “They’re still leery of the octomen.  If you want them to go to the lagoon, we’re going to have to go with them and guard them, to make sure they’re safe.”  I nod.

 

The boys bring a lot of wood; I light it—and I zap the shark a little, just to hurry things along.  The boys splash in the waves while the shark cooks.  The want me to throw them again, so I fly out into the ocean and they swim out.  Bruce stays to watch the shark cook.

 

Of course the boys love it when I throw them high in the air and they can dive down into the ocean.  For them it’s like flying.  For me, it’s wonderful to see them happy.

 

Bruce calls us in when the shark is done.  He’s brought a knife from the hut and starts cutting off pieces of shark meat.  We only have water from the waterfall at the lagoon, but it all tastes good.

 

“How about you boys go back to the lagoon today?” I say.  “Bruce and I will go along, just in case.  But I think we can trust the octomen to keep their word.”  The boys look at each other unsmiling.  “Well,” says Carlos, “If you go with us and promise to zap them with your eyes if they mess with us!”

 

“I promise,” I say.  “I want you to feel safe in the lagoon again.”  Dick looks at Carlos.  “Well,  we wouldn’t be crime-fighting studs if we were afraid of some octomen!”  “That’s the spirit!” says Bruce.

 

But the boys start talking about going home.  We’ve been on the island for two days.  Three more days and we’ll be going home.  They’re looking forward to it—I guess the octomen really did spoil the island for them.

 

Nonetheless, after lunch and some rest on the shore, we head to the lagoon.  I have my arm around Carlos’ shoulders; Bruce has his arm around Dick’s.  It’s not the joyous glee that the boys had when they first headed to the lagoon but at least we’re going there.

 

And once there, Bruce and I dive off the platform first.  And the boys, of course, find fault with absolutely everything about our dives—but then, I think that’s what Bruce and I wanted—an extra enticement for them to show off.

 

And show off they do.  Bruce and I sit along the side of the lagoon: he’s on a boulder; I’m in the water, just in case an octoman shows up.  But soon the boys are doing their acrobatic dives—spins, tucks, pikes, the whole gamut—and yelling to each other and to Bruce and me.  I look over at Bruce and smile; he smiles back.  And there’s not an octoman in sight.

 

 

14

The octomen come for me in the middle of the night, after another one of the boys’ sex parties—this one a bit less energetic than the other one, simply because they were a bit tired from their fun at the lagoon.  I took the net out and caught a load of fish for supper, and the boys cooked the catch on the fireplace.  It was a good day and a good supper.  

 

And I’m not at all surprised when I once again feel the clammy finger and a small electric shock in the middle of the night.  Once again, I unwrap myself from Bruce’s big arms and follow the octoman down to the beach.  The main guy has brought different octomen to this night’s milking.  He doesn’t suck me; three of the other guys do, and then they share my cum between them.  

 

But I notice something different in the main guy: his arms look more like arms and a little less like tentacles.  And he tries to make words with his mouth: “I almost—talk,” he says, and he has a big smile—well, of course it’s big, since his mouth—like all the other octomen’s mouths—is large.  But it’s clear he’s happy, so I smile too.  I say, “Can I hug and kiss you too?”  And he says, “Yes!” so I hug and kiss him.  

 

And when I’ve fed them, they once again wave their arms as they sink into the waves.  I walk back toward the hut and sit down next to Bruce.  “Do you always know when I leave you?”

 

“Always, Boy Scout!”  And I take him my arms and we share a deep and wonderful kiss.  One thing—as they say—leads to another and soon I’m on the beach again, Bruce fucking my ass in the moonlight.  It’s pretty nice—and the sound of the tide coming in muffles our moans from the sleeping boys.

 

The next day we once again find a medium-sized shark on the shore near the fireplace.  The boys run to find wood; I zap the fire, and we have a good brunch—after all, we’re only eating twice a day.  Sex keeps us up at night and we sleep in.  But what’s a vacation for?

 

We go back to the lagoon, but the boys don’t need us to lead them: they head that way by themselves, and once there, they bound up the platform and resume their acrobatic dives.  Bruce and I stay at the edge of the lagoon but nothing happens—except that Bruce and I lie back behind a boulder and have several good, long kisses and lots of feeling each other’s muscles—and we have to decide: are we going to fuck, or not?  Our cocks are hard.  But we also figure the boys will want another orgy that night, so we save our cocks for then.

 

After a couple hours of diving, the boys decide they want to catch fish in their dugout canoe, so they dive one last time and then run from the lagoon to the beach, push the canoe out and jump in.  They paddle out to the ocean and cast their net out; it doesn’t take long before they have a good catch.

 

Bruce and I watch from the shore.  It’s the kind of peaceful normalcy I had wanted for all of us.  And nothing remarkable happens; we cook the fish, eat them, watch the sun go down, watch the stars come out, and then the boys fuck us there on the beach—I guess that’s different.  But I can’t help smiling.  It means that the boys are once again feeling safe.  They still want to sleep in our hut, and of course that’s fine, but I’m happy to see that our nighty orgy has moved to the beach and has the waves and surf in the background—much more romantic!

 

But there is something different that night.  The head ottoman wakes me up—and I simply drag Bruce along, to sit in the door of the hut while I feed the octomen.  But the head ottoman is definitely different: he head is smaller; his arms are more like arms, and he can talk more.  And he’s becoming a good-looking man!

 

“You’ve changed!” I say.  “Because of you!” he says and once again gives me that big, big smile.  

 

“Are all of you changing this way?”

 

“Some faster than others, but yes!” he says—and it’s a little strange, hearing him form words.

 

I sit down on the sand and get my cock hard.  He starts to lick my cock.  I say, “I have to tell you that we will be leaving in a day or so.”  He looks up at me, suddenly sad.

 

“Oh no!” he says.  “What are we going to do?”  I rub his bald head and say, “You could suck each other’s cocks—you do have cocks, don’t you?”

 

“Yes!  I do—all of us do.”  He’s so happy I can’t help smiling too.  “Well, if you have cocks, then you must be making cum.  And if you’re making cum, I imagine your cum is a lot like mine—just keep sucking each other and I think the changes will keep happening!”  

 

He smiles at that and goes back to sucking my cock.  I guess I’ve gotten used to his soft wet sucking.  Pretty soon I’m ready and I cum.  After he shares my cum with another octoman, I say, “Do you guys have names?  What do you call each other?”

 

“Yes, we have names!” he says with a big smile.  “I am Freezul.  This is Limsul.”  He waves.  “And that is Jamsul and Miful.”  And they wave.  They’re really very friendly guys, and pretty harmless—as long as they get to suck my cock and change.  

 

I say, “I am happy to meet all of you!”  And I try to remember all their names, but I’m only really sure of Freezul.

 

Soon Jamsul is sucking my cock.  And when I cum, he shares my cum with Miful.

 

And as the octomen start to swim away, I say, “And thanks for the sharks you’ve been leaving us every morning!  We really appreciate it!”

 

As Freezul swims out, he turns and says, “You’re welcome!” before he heads under the waves.

 

 

15

Our last day on the island.  One last shark for brunch.  A whole afternoon of the boys diving into the lagoon.  I swim out into the ocean and gather a net of fish for supper.  The boys cook the fish and we all lie on the beach, watching the sky change colors as the sun goes down and the stars come out.

 

“I think I’ll miss this part of the island most of all,” Carlos says—much to my delight, which I temper a little, so I don’t jinx the moment.

 

But Dick echoes his love: “Yeah, you can’t get this in Gotham City!”

 

“I know,” says Bruce.  “Thank you, Clark!”

 

“Yeah, Clark,” says Dick.  “We had some trouble, but it only made the good times sweeter!”

 

“Yeah, Dad, thanks so much!”  And Carlos puts a big kiss on my lips.

 

“I’m glad we got through the bad time and you boys had a good time.  Bruce and I have had a good time too!”  And I can’t hide a smile.

 

“What’s this?” says Dick.  “Have you guys been messing around without us?”  I just look at Bruce and we smile to each other.  Bruce says, “You guys don’t know what we’ve been doing while you’ve been sleeping!”  And he and I chuckle.

 

As if it’s a signal, Dick and Carlos jump Bruce and me and soon we’re feeling the full force of young stud cocks in our asses.  But since Bruce and I are also kissing, we don’t much mind.  

 

A sex orgy on the beach as the stars come out and a quarter moon shines over the water—not bad at all!

 

In the back of my mind, I wonder what the octomen are doing—if they’re already in the water offshore, if they can hear our moans and sex play.  I wonder if they’re taking notes, if they’re learning how men fuck.  And then I wonder why I’m thinking about them.  And then I wonder if I will always have a connection to them.  It’s not exactly love, although I do care about them and want to help.  But I don’t feel about them the way I feel about Dick and Carlos.  But I do feel something—and I wonder how strong the connection is.  Anyway, it’s a strange thing to think about while making love to Bruce after the boys have finished their fast and furious fucks.

 

We head to the hut to sleep, but I’ve already looked at Bruce and he’s looked at me—and we both know that our sleep will once again be interrupted.  So, midway to the hut, we tell the boys we’d rather sleep on the beach.  They shrug and continue to the hut.  Bruce and I go back to the beach, lie down, cuddle and kiss.  And then we start to hear the waves parting.

 

He speaks softly—so it seems as though they were watching from the waves.  “We’re glad you stayed on the beach.”  And he’s even more changed.  His arms are long but definitely human.  Freezul walks like a man, talks like a man.  And his head is shaped like a man’s head—and he has some blonde hair—enough for a marine (which I guess is appropriate!).  

 

And his friends—it looks like all twelve of them are here—are also getting hair on top of their heads: brown hair, black hair, even a redhead.  

 

Freezul comes and sits by me: “I hope you can feed more of us tonight, since it’s your last night here.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I will need to pick up our boat and fly it to Hawaii tomorrow, so I still can only do three cums.”  Freezul is disappointed, but he says, “I understand.”  Then he puts his hand on my thigh and says, “I will—we will miss you.  You’ve given us so much!  You cum has changed us.  You have made us into human men!”  He smiles that big smile of his.  "And we will be forever grateful!”  And he plants a big kiss on my lips.  

 

And his kiss lingers.  What’s this?  Is he trying to seduce me—with Bruce sitting on the other side of me?  No; this can’t happen.  I break the kiss and say, “I’m glad my cum has helped you change, Freezul, but Bruce is my love, and he’s sitting right here!”

 

Freesul stops smiling and looks down.  “I didn’t—don’t—understand human ways.  None of us do.”  Then he brightens again, “But we are still glad your juice has changed us!”

 

So, with that awkward moment behind us, Freezul dives for my cock and starts teasing it.  I cum; he shares.  The next guy starts sucking.  I find myself fondling the short hair on their heads—I really do feel something for them; I’m just not sure what.  Bruce rubs his big hand on my big back as I’m milked.  He at least accepts what I’m doing, and I get the sense that he thinks making the octomen into humans may be a good deed for his Boy Scout.

 

And then, after I’ve been miked, when I stand up, I get hugs from all the new men—I really can’t keep calling them “octomen”.  Freezul gives me another kiss, but it doesn’t linger, and I smile when we break.  He says, “Have a good and safe trip!  I hope you will come back to see us!”  And I say, “We will, one of these days.  Take care of yourselves!  Free free to use our huts while we’re away!”  The new men wave; Bruce and I wave.  They slip into the waves; we walk up to the hut.  

 

Bruce says, “Really?  Use our huts?  Boy Scout, there really ought to be a limit to your good deeds!”

 

 

16

OK; I probably shouldn’t have said “Use our huts”!  I’m still struggling with how I feel about the new men.  But Bruce and I cuddle in the hut, and I get a good night’s sleep.

 

The next day we find the new men have left another medium shark—but not on the beach.  On the fire place.  I guess they now have enough arm strength to carry it.  They are becoming new men!

 

The boys get wood, we bake the shark and eat it.  Bruce and I tell them about my feeding my cum to the octomen has changed them—how they’re even growing hair and now they have enough arm strength to lift the shark up to the fireplace.  At first the boys look confused; then they shrug and then Carlos says, “Actually, that’s kinda cool.  So, when we come back, they’ll be real men?”  He looks at Dick, who smiles and says, “And maybe good-looking?”  And then Carlos smiles and says, “And maybe fun to play with?”  Both boys giggle.

 

We pack our stuff and load it on the small yacht.  Bruce guides the boat out into the ocean.  I dive under the boat and lift it up.  I carry it northeast, toward Hawaii.  I bring it back down into the water a mile or two from shore, and get back in the boat.  Bruce steers the boat into the harbor.  I turn to him and say, “I wonder if anyone will notice that we hardly used the engine fuel.”  He says, “We paid for it already.  They won’t notice.”

 

We change into our traveling clothes and head for the airport.  A short hop to Honolulu and we are faced with the whole onslaught of modern civilization.  Carlos says, “I miss the island!”  Dick answers, “Me too!”  He turns to me and says, “When can we go back?”  I look at Bruce.  He says, “It all depends how things are going back in Gotham.”

 

The long flight from Honolulu leads to a change in Chicago and the agony of waiting in O’Hare.  The boys now really want to go back.  Bruce repeats what he said.  

 

When we get to Gotham, it seems like there’s an explosion of time—there’s not enough time to do all the things that need to be done.  Commissioner Gordon has three cases that need to be dealt with immediately, and another two in the wings.  Bruce looks at Dick and Carlos and says, “The island will have to wait.  We have things to do!”  Both boys nod and do their duty.

 

I have a slew of new assignments waiting for me at The Planet.  I’m so busy I have to cancel a weekend with Bruce—which he understands, since he was about to call me and ask me to cancel.  He and Dick and Carlos have some serious crime-fighting to do.

 

One thing leads to another and we’re both so busy that it’s a month before I’m back in Bruce’s arms and we’re rolling around on his big bed while Alfred brings us a big tray of breakfast.  It’s wonderful—absence does make the heart grow fonder—and the four of us finally have a good weekend.

 

But in the back of my mind, I’ve been thinking about the new men: How are they getting on?  Has their hair grown out?  Should I bring a scissors when we go back?  Have they built more huts next to ours?  After all, it’s not hard to see the way the huts were put together, and Freezul, at least, seems plenty smart enough to figure out how to put a hut together.  Or are their huts somehow different?  Or did they decide to stay in the cavern by the lagoon?

 

Yeah, I’m thinking about the new men a lot, and I want to go back.

 

But so do the boys.  It’s autumn; the days are a lot cooler.  Carlos and Dick do their acrobatic workouts in Bruce’s gym, not in the pool.  And over dinner in Bruce’s formal dining room, Dick looks at Carlos, Carlos looks at Dick and they both say, at the same time, to Bruce, “We want to go back to the island!”

 

Bruce has one of his cagey smiles—so I know he’s been expecting this.  I guess he already knows that I’ve been thinking about the new men—mainly since I keep looking at the big Rand McNally, and turning to the South Pacific map.   I’m not all that hard for him to read.

 

“I know you do, and I know Clark does.”  And I get a little smile; I smile back and say, “If course you know what I’ve been thinking!”

 

Carlos and Dick look at each other again.  It seems they’ve been planning this conversation.  Dick says, “How about January?  I know we usually take a skiing trip—and we can still do that.  But—“ and he once again looks at Carlos, who nods—“we’ve been thinking we could plan ahead and ask Commissioner Gordon for some time off in January.”  He pauses.  I guess he doesn’t want to sound too demanding.  “Would that be feasible?”  Carlos nods again.

 

“Yes,” says Bruce.  “That would be feasible.  In fact, I’ve already asked Commissioner Gordon for the time off!”  Bruce laughs as the boys and I throw our napkins at him.

 

 

17 

And so we do the whole trip again; only this time, with heavy winter coats that we store in Honolulu—or actually, I store, since I fold them and compress them and put them in a small carry-on.

 

We even get the same small yacht at Nawiliwili Harbor in Kauai.  And after Bruce guides the yacht out in the ocean, I dive in, lift it up and carry it to “our island.”  I put it back in the water so Bruce can guide it to shore.  

 

Of course, the boys leap off the boat into the shallow water, but then they stop.  They are faced with twelve very good-looking young men.  That is, twelve very good-looking young men without any clothes and who are well-hung.  So I guess they kept sucking each other’s cocks and they kept changing!  But they’re all pretty shaggy too—and some of them even have scraggily beards.  

 

I spot Freezul among them, leap off the boat and onto the shore and run up to him, giving him a big hug and a little kiss.  He is all smiles: “You’re back!  Oh, I am so happy to see you again, my friend!”  And I get a hug and a much bigger kiss.  But I glance over to Bruce and it’s clear he doesn’t mind.  

 

Meanwhile, the boys are introducing themselves to all the good-looking, well-hung young men.  I can see by the smiles on Carlos and Dick and they’re happy to see such good-looking young men—and I imagine Carlos is thinking about “playing” with them already.  

 

One of the young men—Jamsul, I think, but I’m not sure—says “Do you want to go to the lagoon?  We would love you to teach us to dive!”

 

Of course these are golden words to the boys.  And since all the other guys are naked, Carlos and Dick strip out of their speedos and run off with the good-looking, well-hung young men with scraggly beards.  I’m so glad I brought a scissors along.  I should have brought two—and a razor.  But then, Bruce and the boys each have razors.  I think we should start planning a “barbershop day”.

 

Bruce comes over to Freezul and me; I re-introduce Bruce to Freezul.  Bruce—ever prepared—he’s just as much of a Boy Scout as I am, in some ways!—has a couple of bags to take to the hut.  It’s only then that we notice there are three more huts—and all of them look a lot like ours.

 

“Freezul!” I say. “You’ve made more huts—and they look a lot like ours!”

 

“Oh yes!  We wanted to have places to stay that reminded us of you, so we copied your huts as best we could.  Our huts are bigger because we didn’t have tools to cut trees down, so we just used trees that were close together.  And we learned how to climb palm trees to get palm leaves.  And it was very easy for us to collect smooth stones from the bottom of the sea!”  He beams with pride.  Clearly, they have not been lazy while we’ve been away!

 

“Come with us to our hut so we can talk.  Or would you rather go with the other guys to the lagoon?”

 

“I would love to learn to dive, but it is more important that we talk.”  I have my arm around his fairly muscular shoulders—in fact, all the new men have pretty good muscle.  I imagine that I will have to cum for them again: they’ll want more of what I’ve got.  Bruce and I will have to talk about how much I can give.

 

Freezul, however, is just so happy.  He has to pause on the way to our hut and give me another kiss.—and he lingers.  I glance over to Bruce; he still doesn’t mind.  But I say, “Freezul!  Bruce is right here!”  He says, “I know, and I’m sorry Bruce—“ and he nods toward Bruce and even blushes a little.  But Bruce says, “Don’t worry yourself.  I know you’re excited to see Clark, and I know he’s happy to see you again, so a nice long kiss is to be expected!”  

 

“Oh, thank you, Bruce!”  And Freezul gives Bruce a hug and a big kiss—and lingers.  I’m getting the impression that Freezul is something of a slut!

 

So now Freezul is between the two of us, and both Bruce and I have our meaty arms around his shoulders—and he’s smiling so broadly I worry he might explode!  But we go up to the hut, Bruce puts his baggage in a corner, and we sit down on the cool flat stones.

 

 

18

“We have had visitors to the island, and you need to know about them!”  Freezul is both excited and alarmed.  So I’m alarmed: 

 

“Did they hurt you?”

 

“Clark!”  Bruce says, “Let the man talk!  They may have been perfectly peaceful explorers!”

 

“No, they weren’t,” Freezul says.  “I’m not sure what they were, but we sensed that they were dangerous, so all of us hid and only peeked at them when we thought we were safe.  They came after we had learned to climb trees, so a lot of us climbed up palm trees and other trees and looked down on them.  They had large things strapped to their bodies.”

 

“Those would be guns,” Bruce says—and he’s not smiling now.

 

“Yes, I guess they were g-guns,” Freezul says, trying out the new word.  “They made a loud noise.  The strange men pointed them at trees, and when they figured out we were in the trees, they pointed the guns at us and made loud noises.”

 

“They were shooting at you,” Bruce says, and now there’s not even the shadow of a smile on his face.

 

“They made shooting, yes.” 

 

“They shot at you,” I say—why I think I have to be the grammar teacher, I don’t know, but they’re still “my” new men!

 

“They shot at us, but we are quick—we leap from tree to tree and hide ourselves in the trees and we even jump back in the lagoon and go to the cavern.  But I swam back out with Jamsul and we saw the strange men walking from the other side of the island to this side.  They saw our huts, so they know we live here.” He pauses.  “And they shot at our huts and at yours.”  And I look around and notice that the lattice work has different colors in it—not the uniform green which I had used when I first made them.

 

“They shot at—our huts!” I say this with a mix of astonishment and a rising anger.

 

I look at Bruce; he looks at me and says “Pirates.”  Then he looks more closely at me and says, “Steady, Boy Scout!  They shot up your dream, but the new men repaired the lattice work—so there’s a good side to this.”

 

But I don’t want to think about the good side.  I am swept by an anger I seldom feel.  I hate the men who shot up our hut—our home.

 

Bruce looks back to Freezul and asks him,  “Did the strange men bring anything with them to the island.  And did they dig in the dirt and bury it?”

 

“Yes, they did.  They had tools for digging—“

 

“Shovels,” Bruce says.  He’s taken over teaching duties; I’m seething.  Freezul looks at me with alarm.  Bruce says, “Clark is angry.  You haven’t seem him angry—because he doesn’t often get angry.  But when the pirates shot up our hut, they were shooting at Clark’s dream.”

 

Just then Carlos and Dick burst into the hut and Carlos shouts, “Pirates!  Pirates have come to the island and threatened the new men!”

 

Bruce says, “Yes, Freezul has been telling us about it.  And he’s going to lead us to where they buried their loot!”  He pauses. “And they shot up our huts—and Clark is pretty upset about it.”

 

Carlos looks at me and says, “Uh-oh!”  Then he looks around at the repaired lattice work and says, “But look, Dad, the new men fixed things up!”  He’s trying—and I love that he’s trying—but it just isn’t helping.  Wisely, Carlos moves back to stand closer to Dick.

 

So we get up and go outside the hut.  All the other new men are standing there, in all their well-hung muscled glory—and they’re quite a sight!  I wonder that Carlos and Dick aren’t sucking and fucking them instead of wanting to go—but they’re still young men, and whenever we’ve come to the island, the boys are just that—boys.

 

But I’m still so angry.  Bruce is walking with Freezul and Carlos and Dick and the others.  I’m just tagging along, not sure of what to do with all the anger that I have boiling inside of me.  Then I see it—a boulder by the beach.  While the others walk toward the path to the lagoon, I walk down to the boulder and smash it.

 

The boulder—bigger than Bruce and me and Carlos and Dick and a few of the new men—is now dust.  Freezul and the other new men look back at me; their faces showing astonishment and shock.  Carlos says, “That’s what happens when my dad gets angry.  You don’t want to get my dad angry!”  And he, Dick and Bruce walk on with the new men—some of whom can’t help turning around to look at the dust cloud still in place above where the boulder had been.

 

 

19

Freezul and the new men lead us beyond the lagoon, beyond the woods where we found the large tree for the dugout canoe, around the small mountain—probably an extinct volcano—which stands at the center of the island, and through some more woods.  There’s a lot of underbrush and bushes to our left.  Freezul and the new men walk into the underbrush.  No one seems to mind that their cocks are being hit by branches of bushes and low trees.  It doesn’t bother me, but sometimes I’m amazed by what men can get used to—and quickly.

 

Finally, we come to a place where the ground has been disturbed and not much is growing on it.  It’s under big trees and shaded by trees and underbrush, so why would anything grow?  But the new men don’t have shovels—something else I should bring to the island—so it looks like they haven’t touched it.

 

Freezul says, “We thought about digging it up, but I said that we should let you do it when you came back, and so I convinced my friends to leave it alone—and here you are!”

 

I look at Bruce.  He nods.  I kneel down and scoop my arm through the dirt, starting a good yard out from the bare patch.  I scoop my arm deep.  I don’t scoop fast—I’m looking for any kind of resistance.  And I find it.  So I stop scooping and reach down with both hands to pull up the buried “treasure”.

 

It’s a couple of steel cases, each about two feet wide, long, and high.  They’re not heavy—at least for me.  I bring them up and use a puff of wind to blow off the dirt.  And then I look around at the new men—all of whom have their mouths gaping open.  Bruce looks around and says, “Boy Scout, you have to remember that the new men haven’t seen all your power!”  Then he turns to Freezul and the others and says, “Clark is a very powerful man.  And right now, he’s an angry powerful man, and we’ll just have to let him work through his anger.  Understand?”  All the new men meekly nod.

 

But I’m less angry now.  I have before me something that once belonged to the men who shot up our home.  I have half a mind to simply crush it, like the boulder.  But I know Bruce will want to examine it for clues as to who these pirates are, so I push the steel cases over to him.  He looks at them and then back to me: “Well, do you think you could open them without crushing them?”  He smiles.  And I think I finally smile after many minutes of seeing only dark clouds in my head.

 

I laugh and say, “Of course!”  And I tear off the lids of the steel cases.

 

Inside are no gold doubloons—although there is some gold.  It seems a mishmash of all sorts of ill-gotten gains: gold and silver jewelry, rings with precious stones—rubies, emeralds, diamonds—gold coins, paper CDs, flash drives, some newspapers and even some maps.

 

Bruce bends down to examine the loot.  So do Dick and Carlos and all the new men.  Dick says to Bruce, “Well, I imagine this jewelry is hot—and so are the coins.  Do you see any pattern?”  Bruce leaves the gold coins and jewelry alone and picks up the newspapers. “I wonder if these guys like reading about themselves!”  From what I can see, some papers are in English, others in French—which suggests Fiji and Tahiti.  

 

Bruce turns to me and says, “Clark, could you refill the hole while we take these two cases back to our hut for closer examination?”

 

“Sure.”  I find several rocks nearby to throw into the hole and then cover them with the dirt.  I pat the dirt down and soon it looks pretty much like it looked before I scooped out the two steel cases.  Bruce asks Carlos and Dick to carry the cases back to our huts.  

 

But I’m getting hungry.  I ask Freezul, “Do you or some of your guys want to take a swim with me and capture a couple of sharks for dinner?”  “Oh yes!” Freezul says.  But the other guys are less enthusiastic.  “I promise,” I say to them, “That my anger is over—I won’t attack or hurt any of you.  I love you all!”  Slowly, some of the new men come round: Jamsul and Miful nod and pull another couple of guys along.  I now see that expressing my anger has meant I have work to do, to win back the trust of the new men—which is one reason why I seldom get angry.

 

 

20

While Bruce, the boys and several new men head for our hut, I take Freezul and the other new men and we wade out into the ocean and dive in.  I need this: I need something simple, like diving into the ocean and swimming among all the beautiful fish.  I need something to reconnect me to the beauty of this planet, to the wonder that I should never stop seeing and loving.  

 

Of course I swim fast, but not all that much faster than the new men.  Yes, they have to go back up to the surface more than I do, but I’m impressed by their swimming strength.  Of course, deep in their DNA is their octopus mother and her vast knowledge of the ocean.  The new men clearly love swimming; they dive deep and swim along with me, then they quickly surface and come back down.  I have to surface too, so I try to time my need for air with theirs, so we can surface together.  And it’s kind of fun.  I feel like I’m winning back these guys—and maybe they can help me win back the others.

 

Soon we’re several hundred yards from the island and I see a few sharks swimming toward us.  I guess to them, we look like vulnerable humans.  Well, we’re not.

 

I swim up to a large shark—better to take on a big boy first, to establish dominance—and slug him in his head.  He quickly folds and starts drifting away from the blood trail.  I take hold of his tail and swing him toward Freezul and Jamsul; they take hold of him and start back to the island.  Then I do the same to a mid-sized shark, and swing him around for the other two guys to shepherd back to the island.  And I follow the new men back to our home bay.

 

Once back on dry land, I say to Freezul, “That was fun!  I hope you guys had fun too!”  All the new men are smiling—I think I’ve at least won them back.  Of course, Freezul and Jamsul have a little trouble tugging the big shark up on land, so I go over and hoist the big boy up on the fireplace.  

 

“We need wood!” I call up to the house.  I’m pleased that Carlos and Dick bring with them out of the hut several new men; they all go to find wood for the fireplace.

 

Then Bruce and a few more of the new men came out of the hut, walking down to the beach.  I say, “Did you read enough to find out something about the pirates?”  By the time Bruce sits down on the beach—with several new men sitting around him, as if he’s a guru—Carlos and Dick and their new men friends have arrived with armloads of wood for the fireplace.

 

I zap the wood and it bursts into flame.  But then I figure we need another fireplace.  So I use x-ray vision to look around and through the various boulders, to see if I can find building materials for a new fireplace.  Then I say to the new men, “I’m going to build another fireplace here—and I’ll be moving pretty fast.  So it would be good idea if you sat down there by Bruce.”  So they move, and I swing into action.

 

It doesn’t take me long to find the right-sized boulders.  I do have to move a really big boulder to get at the ones I want.  And I’m sure my show of strength may have freaked out some of the new men, but I gotta be me.  And besides, as I put together the new fireplace, I see Freezul nodding and smiling—so I know I have at least one of the new men who accepts me for who I am.

 

Pretty soon I have the mid-sized shark on the new fireplace and I’ve got the rest of the wood burning underneath it.  I turn the big shark and say, “We need more wood!”   Dick and Carlos gather their friends for another trip into the woods to get more arms-full of wood.  I throw some of it in each fireplace.  Dinner shouldn’t take much longer.  Just to make sure, I zap each of the sharks to speed things up.

 

Bruce goes back to the hut with Dick; they come back with a couple of big knives.  They will carve up the beasts.  What I want is a feast for all of us—new men and the four of us—to celebrate our return to the island.  I want to end the day much happier than my angry fit.

 

And soon we’re all sitting on the beach, biting into the shark.  The new men seem to relish eating with us.  Freezul can’t stop smiling, and I overhear Jamsul and Miful talking about swimming in the ocean with me and catching the sharks.  I hope this is the start of my redemption.

 

Bruce has a few ideas about the pirates: “It seems our pirates sail all over Polynesia, break into houses and steal whatever they can.  The fact that they stored some of it here—that leads me to believe they’re not all that poor.  They must have enough loot to divide among themselves and this is extra.  I wonder why they didn’t keep the precious stones—they could have sold them anywhere for folding money.  But maybe these are only a few of the many things they’ve stolen.”  He looks at me.  “We’re going to have to fly over to Fiji and talk with some of the police.”  Then he looks at the boys: “Do you guys want to stay here or come with us?”  Dick and Carlos look at each other and whisper to each other—for a while.  Finally, Dick says, “Can we talk with you about that later?”  Bruce says, “Of course.”

 

Then I say, “And while we’re in Fiji, I can pick up some shovels for you new men and some scissors and razors for you.”  I look around at them: “Do you want to cut your hair and shave your beards?”

 

Freezul says, “You mean we can cut our own hair and shave our faces like you do?”

 

‘Well,” I say, “it might be better if you cut each other’s hair—you can watch me or Bruce do it—and you can learn to shave your beards—unless, that is, you want to keep your beards.”  This causes a murmur among the new men.  Freezul says, “Can you show us—now?”

 

“Actually,” I say, “I can.”  I trot up to the hut and root through one of the bags Bruce brought and find the comb and scissors I brought.  Then I come down to the beach again.  

 

It’s early twilight, not the best light, but I can still see well.  I say “Freezul, would you like a hair cut?”  He nods.  So I sit down on the beach behind him and start snipping away.  We are soon surrounded by all the new men.  It seems that what I’m doing is the most interesting thing they’ve ever seen!

 

 

21

I end up cutting the hair on five of the new men before it gets too dark.  I ask Dick and Carlos if they can teach the new men how to shave themselves the next morning.  They’re eager to.  So it’s “barbershop day”!   Freezul really likes his much-shorter hair.  And I like my work: he’s sort of a young, more muscular Robert Redford—but with a bigger mouth.  It may be that my way back into the good graces of the new men is by cutting their hair.  I tell them that any man who wants his hair cut, I can do it tomorrow.

 

Then we go our separate ways—the new men playing with their shorter hair and debating whether or not they want their beards shaved.  Meanwhile, Bruce and I need to talk with Dick and Carlos about whether they want to come with us to Fiji.  Instead of going into our hut, we walk further along the beach. The moon is half full and the stars are out; it will be easier to see each other outside.

 

We find several boulders to sit behind.  I’m not worried about the new men listening in—I’m more worried about the sound of the surf crashing on shore making it harder for us to hear each other. 

 

Once we’re settled, Dick looks at Carlos and then says, “”We’d like to go to Fiji but we feel that someone should stay here and help protect the new men.”

 

Bruce says, “I figured it was something like that.”  He looks at me—and suddenly I’m worrying that the boys might be in trouble if the pirates come back while Bruce and I are gone.

 

“But,” I say, “I don’t want you guys to get in trouble.  One thing about the new men—they can swim like Michael Phelps and simply fade into the ocean.  I’m not really worried about them.  But I worry that you guys might try to do something to protect the new men.”

 

“And why shouldn’t we protect our friends?”  Of course it’s Carlos: big heart and big mouth.  I can’t help hugging him.  “Of course you should protect your friends.  But the pirates have guns.  If I’m here, the guns won’t be a threat—I’ll destroy them.  But I don’t want you to get shot!”

 

Bruce is more calm:  “Of course you’ll want to protect your friends.  But Clark is right; neither of us wants you to get shot.  And somehow I think that one or both of you will simply try to save your friends rather than do what they did—hide in the trees!”

 

And then I try to be calm: “I know I can’t drag you along to Fiji—“  “Well,” says Bruce, “actually, you can!”  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want to!”  And I hug both boys.  “But I know you guys—you’re brave and fearless and smart and I’m afraid you’ll try to take on pirates with guns!”  And suddenly I find tears in my eyes.  I cannot—can not—imagine my life if either of these guys got shot.

 

But Dick isn’t convinced: “Clark, we know you love us, and we know you don’t want any harm to come to us—and we love you for it.  But Carlos and I are indeed smart and brave and fearless, and we can take care of ourselves!”  I look at Bruce with longing in my eyes—I want him to solve this problem.  But Bruce looks back at me, shrugs and says, “Sometimes we have to let boys go.”  The words sound terrifying to me, but I know he’s right.  I could say the boys should call us on their phones, but there’s no service out here in the middle of nowhere.  So I look at Bruce and say, “Then I’m flying you to Fiji—it’ll be faster going there and coming back.”  Bruce nods and says, “Just don’t drop me, Boy Scout!”

 

So, Bruce and I will fly out and fly back—but after the barbershop day where I cut hair and the boys teach the new men how to shave.

 

We head back to our hut.  We’re all tired—me most of all—so we simply cuddle; I suck Bruce off.  I figure Freezul will pay be a nighttime visit and want to suck my cock, and I’m fine with that.  

 

And in the middle of my sleep, Freezul does indeed once again put his fingers on my hand—it’s now an old gesture, but it wakes me up and I get up and go outside with him.  There are six new men: Jamsul and Miful and three others: Samsul, Dramsul and Limsul.  And I walk down to the beach, spread my legs and get my cock stiff, and three new men suck me off.

 

 

22

In the morning, the new men have once again brought us a shark—actually, they’ve brought a shark and a tuna, so I guess they’re looking out for our diet!  I wonder about the declining wood supplies on the island, so I slowly zap each of the big fish.  The new men join us.  Bruce and Freezul cut up the fish and Carlos and Dick bring clean water from the little waterfall at the lagoon.  We eat our fish and chatter about who wants to learn to shave and how short the hair cuts should be.  

 

Dick and Carlos are serious about teaching the new men how to shave.  They each have “old-timey” strop razors and a nice scented soap which produces good lather.  Dick uses waterfall water to get a lather on the soap and applies it to Carlos’ face.  Then he and Carlos show how Carlos needs to turn his head one way—so Dick can shave that side of Carlos’ face, and then turn his head the other way, so that Dick can shave that side of Carlos’ face.  And then how careful Dick has to be—“You have to be careful about this; the razor is very sharp!  And both the guy with the razor and the guy bending his head back to show his neck—you both have to be careful!”  Twelve heads nod.  Carlos and Dick have done this several—many times; they seem to love shaving each other—and I smile to see how slowly and carefully they are demonstrating how to do this.  And then, after Carlos washes off the shaving foam, he shaves Dick.  And a dozen new men watch that demonstration with equal intense interest.  

 

And then Carlos asks who wants to be shaven.  Freezul—brave, good man that he is—volunteers first.  And a couple other new men go to get more water from the waterfall.

 

Meanwhile, I’m cutting Dramzul’s hair.  It’s a mess of curls and pretty good-looking just as it is, but the man wants it shorter—which makes sense, given the hot climate.  So I’m cutting his hair, we’re chatting and getting along nicely—he was one of the guys more suspicious of me yesterday—when I hear something.

 

It’s voices on the other side of the island.  I think it’s the pirates.  I call over to Freezul: “I think the pirates are back!”

 

He’s in the middle of getting shaved but both he and Carlos turn toward me.  Freezul says, “You can hear that far away?”  Carlos says, “Yes, he can!”  

 

“Dramzul, I’m going to stop cutting your wonderful hair—Bruce, could you take over?”  Bruce nods and takes the scissors and comb from me.

 

I ask Jamzul and Miful if they will head toward the pirates’ treasure spot: “But stay hidden!  Their guns can’t hurt me, but they can hurt you!”  So they take off into the trees; soon I can see they’re up in the trees, swinging from one to the next.  I fly up over them, but keep an eye out for them.

 

I fly over the buried treasure spot.  Sure enough, there are about ten men digging another hole, a few yards away from the first one.  There are a couple of steel cases nearby.  I head back to our side of the island.

 

“The pirates are back!”  And only a moment or two after I say this, Jamsul and Miful come out of the trees panting: “They’re back!”

 

I look at Bruce.  He pats Dramzul on his shoulder and says, “We’ll do this later.”  I go over to Bruce and say, “How do you want to play this?”

 

“You and some of the new men head back to the buried treasure spot;  Dick and Carlos and I with some other new men will get the rope and come at them from behind.   He nods to Dick, who heads for the boat.  “I assume you will swoop down and disarm them.  Then we’ll tie them up.”  He pauses.  “Don’t destroy the guns.  And I think it might be better if you do this in uniform—and fly the pirates, with their cases and guns on their ship, to Suva, the capital of Fiji.   You can fly in, salute the harbor police, and fly out.”

 

He’s so damn smart.  I smile and give him a quick kiss.  Then I run up to our hut, dig out my uniform and whirl into it.  When I come out of the hut and down to the beach, several of the new men are in various states of surprise, astonishment, and delight.  

 

Brave Freezul says, “Is this how you dress when you do big things back in your world?”  I pick him up, give him a big kiss and say, “Yes!”  Then I look around and say, “Who’s going with Bruce and Dick and Carlos, and who’s coming with me?”  Freezul, Jamsul and Miful, of course, plus Dramsul—four is a good number—come with me.

 

 

23

Freezul leads his three buddies toward the trees.  I leap into the air and fly over the trees.  I slow down so as not to lose Freezul and his friends.  They do a good job of flying themselves—from tree to tree to tree.  They’re plenty strong as they swing the palm trees and fly to the next ones.  When they’re close to the buried treasure, I swoop down.

 

I land right in the middle of the pirates with all their guns.  They look pretty astonished to see me in front of them.  I scoop up five guns quickly and toss them into the underbrush.  By the time I do that, a couple of guys are aiming their guns at me.  I grab those guns and toss them.  But of course, I can’t get them all and a couple of the pirates start shooting.  

 

Bullets ricochet off me—one hits one of the pirates.  I say, “Better not shoot—you’ll hurt your own men.”  So they stop shooting—they’re not so stupid after all.  Freezul and his friends start dropping down from the trees.

 

One of the pirates—a short guy with a skinny beard but an intelligent eye, asks, “Superman, why do you care about us?  We’re petty criminals; we just steal a few things here and there!”  

 

“Because, my criminal friend, you threatened my friends here—“ I nod toward Freezul and his pals—“And you shot up my hut!”  And suddenly I feel a swell of rage building in me.  Just in time, Bruce appears with the rope.  “Steady, Superman!  No need to kill any of these guys!”  The smart pirate looks around at Bruce and says, “He wouldn’t do that, would he?”

 

Bruce calmly replies, “He smashed a boulder bigger than all of you guys yesterday—he got pretty upset when he learned you shot up his hut!  So, you’d better stay on his good side!”  Meanwhile, Bruce and Carlos and Dick are tying the pirates’ hands behind their backs, and tying them to each other—they’ll make a nice, neat line-up for the police in Fiji.   I note that Bruce and the boys took time to put on speedos; I imagine the pirates are a bit taken aback by all the well-hung new men.

 

Bruce nods to Dick and Carlos and they pick up the steel cases they brought from our hut and take them to the pirates’ boat.  I note that Bruce is using my uniform name and not mentioning the names of the boys—no telling what connections exist between a Fuji prison and prisons back in the states.  Anonymity is best.  Of course, I’m never anonymous, but I’m not human.

 

The new men are now looking at and walking around the pirates.  When the boys get back, Bruce nods toward the pile of guns nearby: “Take the bullets out and take the guns to the boat, too.”   The boys empty the guns and they and some of their new men friends take the guns to the boat.

 

Jamsul picks up a bullet from the ground.  “Careful with that,” I say.  “Don’t hit it with a rock.  It can still kill someone!”  Jamsul drops it as if were hot.  

 

When the boys get back, Bruce tells them to take the pirates to the boat.  The boys and a few of their new friends lead the pirates away.

 

“How do I get to Fiji?” I say.  Bruce says, “It’s about 300 mies due south—piece of cake for you.  It’s a pretty big island.  Suva, the capital, is on the south side of the island.  All you have to do is set the boat down in the harbor, make sure the harbor police see it, salute them and say something clever about pirates; then salute them again and fly away.  No need for a full report.  They can always write, “Superman brought us these pirates!’” 

 

Once the prates can’t see us, I give Bruce a big kiss.  I suggest that maybe the boys can go out in the canoe and catch a net full of fish with some of the new men.  “Good idea!” Bruce says, “But first we have some hair to cut and beards to shave!”  I give him another little kiss and leap toward the boat.  

 

On the boat, I tap each of the pirates’ heads, knocking them out.  Then I tow the boat out into the ocean, pick it up and fly it south.

 

 

24

It isn’t quite a “piece of cake”.  For one thing, the pirate boat is bigger than our small yacht.  It gets heavy as I fly it over a big island I figure must be Fiji.  I see a larger town on the southeast side of the island and figure it must be Suva.  I head for it.

 

A nice harbor.  I have some trouble finding an official-looking part of the port, but I figure a beautiful blue flag with a Union Jack in the upper corner is probably the official flag.  So I bring the boat down right next to a pier near the official-looking building.  I call out, “Anyone want some pirate bad guys?”  I know—not the cleverest thing to say, but it does get a couple of young, fit, police-like guys to come out of the building and look up at me.  

 

I salute and say, “Pirates, with their steel cases of loot and weapons minus bullets.  Have a nice day!”  One of the policemen says, “Thanks, Superman!”  And I salute again and fly away.

 

It’s a lot easier flying north than it was carrying the pirate boat for 300 miles.  I’ve never flown to “our island” from the south, so I have to fly around it so I can see it from the north—and by that time, it’s late afternoon.

 

I land on our beach.  I’m greeted by a dozen very good-looking new men without beards and with shorter hair—and I wondered why Dick and Carlos aren’t fucking them all!

 

“Oh, I’ve missed barbershop day!” I say as Dick and Carlos and all the new men gather round me.  “And all you guys look really good!”  I reach over and kiss Freezul and then Jamsul.  Freezul says, “Did you take the pirates to Fiji?”

 

“Yes I did.  I handed them over to the local police.  I imagine that not only Fiji but also Tahiti will be interested in those guys!”  I’m suddenly aware that I’m surrounded by new men looking at me the way little boys sometimes look at me—as if I’m their hero.  So I guess I’m no longer the scary angry guy they were afraid of yesterday.  That’s good!

 

Bruce comes over and gives me a kiss.  “So what clever thing did you say to the police?”  “I’m just not as clever as you!” I say, giving him a kiss.  “All I could come up with was ‘Anyone want some pirate bad guys?’  I know, lame.”  I see Dick and Carlos smiling at each other as if I’m old and out-of-date.  “Well, I’ll bet it worked,” Bruce says.  

 

“Yep, it did!  The police came out and waved and said ‘Thanks, Superman!’ and then I came home!”

 

“And you’re in time for supper!” Bruce says.  “The boys paddled out and Freezul and some of his buddies swam out and they brought in a big haul of fish.  We’re just waiting for you to light our fire!”  I smile at the reference.

 

I turn to the fireplaces and see that there are fish on the grates.  So I zap the wood in the fireplaces and then zap the fish themselves a bit, to hurry things along.  Then I leap up to our hut and whirl out of my uniform and return to the group, just as naked as all the other guys.

 

We have a good supper.  We’re free of the threat of pirates.  Carlos and Dick tell about their diving with some of the new men in the lagoon—it seems that the new men are learning the dives quickly.

 

And then Freezul—brave Freezul—says what I’ve been fearing in the back of my head: “Clark, do you think you could fly us to Fiji?”  I immediately look at Bruce.  But he shrugs and whispers, “We have to deal with this sometime!”

 

I clear my throat and say, “I can fly all of us to Fiji—yes.  But I wonder if it’s the best place to go.  For one thing, it’s pretty far away.  I only flew the pirates there because they had newspapers from Fiji and Tahiti—so they probably robbed people in those places.”  I pause and look at all the new men.  I don’t want them to distrust me or hate me again, so I need to be careful.

 

“But you new men are all wonderful and all four of us love you very much.  But we also know that there are a lot of bad men in modern cities—the pirates were very bad, but there are other men who could cheat you or hurt you in other ways.”  I pause.  “And I don’t want to see you get hurt!”

 

Dick turns to Carlos and whispers, “Sounds like what we heard last night!”

 

“What’s this?” Freezul says.  So I look at Dick, and he says to Freezul: “Last night we had a debate about whether Carlos and I should go with our Dads to Fiji or stay here.  Clark didn’t want us to stay because he was afraid the pirates would shoot us!”  He pauses.  “So, Clark always worries about the safety of those he loves.”  And I so want to reach over and kiss him, but I figure I should play it cool.

 

Freezul looks at his buddies and says, “But we are very curious about the world outside this island.”  And several of the new men nod their heads.  “We are grateful for everything you’ve given us—“  more nodding heads—“but we want to leave this island and see more of the world.”

 

“And I’d love you to stay on this island where it’s safe from a world which could hurt you!”  The words just poured out of me.  I feel embarrassed by them.  But Freezul understands: he puts his long muscular arm around my shoulder and says, “And I love you for that, Clark—you want to protect us like you want to protect Dick and Carlos.  But we have to have our own lives.”

 

“I know,” I say.  “I just don’t want you to get hurt!”  But I look at Bruce and say, “Where else can we take them—Fiji is really too far away for me to fly all of us.  And I’m not going to take them somewhere and just dump them!”

 

“Well,” he says, “there’s the Marshal Islands.  They’re not so far away.  Or there’s Hawaii—maybe we start them off with a taste of modern civilization, our port on Kauai where we can show them around.  And they can figure out if they like it—or if they’d feel better—safer—back here.”

 

And then I have an idea: “And what are you going to say when someone asks you where you’re from?  Are you just going to say ’an island in the South Pacific’?”  I pause.  “And what if someone asks about your parents?”

 

But Freezul is smart: “We’ll tell them we had a wonderful mother and a very super father!”  And he gives me a smile that I can’t help loving—and all the new men laugh, along with Bruce and the boys.  

 

“But,” I say, trying again, “What about clothes?  And what about learning to drive a car?  Or getting a job?”

 

Freezul says, “Look at us!  Because of you, we all have muscle—so we can do anything that needs strong bodies.”  But then he looks around.  “Why do people wear clothes?  And what’s a car?”

 

Carlos and Dick have obviously been thinking: “We can give some of them our clothes—speedos and tees and shorts,” Dick says.  Then he turns to Bruce, “And didn’t you say there was a store near the harbor, when we were picking up the boat?”

 

“Yes, there is,” says Bruce.  “So you and Carlos can run in there and pick up a bunch of shorts and tees and sandals—most of these new guys are about your size, so it shouldn’t take you long at all!”

 

Freezul has a big smile on his face: “So, one problem solved.  Now, what’s a car?”

 

 

25

We take them to Kauai.  We get there late in the morning.  Bruce brings the small yacht into the harbor.  Carlos and Dick leap onto the pier with a Visa burning a hole in Dick’s cargo shorts.  They run to the store near the harbor; meanwhile, Freezul and his friends are getting used to various items of clothing—trying on shorts and tees and sandals they got from Carlos and Dick.

 

“This feels strange,” says Jamsul.  “Let me try on your teeee-shirt”—he says the word carefully, making sure he’s getting it right.  Since none of the new guys have ever owned anything, they share and share alike with ease.

 

Carlos and Dick come back to the boat carrying big bags full of clothes.  Many of the tees are souvenirs with photos of Kauai or ”The Garden Island” emblazoned on them.  And once again, all the new guys share and share alike: they put on one tee, don’t like it, and exchange with one of their brothers.  And they do the same with the shorts and sandals.  Freezul asks, “Why do people wear sandals?  Wouldn’t it be better to walk on their feet?”

 

Carlos chuckles: “Wait till you walk on some summer-scorched concrete or asphalt!”  Then Bruce puts his big arm around Freezul’s shoulders: “Just put them on.  I think you’ll see that Carlos is right.”

 

We’re a strange group as we all get off the yacht and start down the pier.  Miful and Dramzul stumble almost as soon as they start walking in their sandals.  But the new guys help each other all the time, so we walk on.

 

Bruce takes the whole crew to Duke’s Kauai.  It’s right on the beachfront, so the guys don’t have far to walk.  Several of the guys mention how hot the street is—and how they’re glad they’re wearing sandals.  Duke’s Kauai looks a bit pricey, but I guess Bruce wants to impress the new guys.  Of course, as soon as we enter, Freezul notices “DUKE” on a surfboard and asks, “What’s this?”

 

Bruce is prepared: “It’s a surfboard, for riding on top of waves.  Duke Kahanamoku was a great surfing athlete.  There’s a statue of him near the police station; he’s a hero to all of Hawaii.”  Then he stops us before we can be seated.  “Don’t try to eat too much.  Share your food.  You haven’t had this kind of food before.  Carlos, Dick, Clark and I will sit among you.  Don’t hesitate to ask questions.”  Twelve heads nod.

 

Of course, the wait staff have to put us at two different, long tables.  But at least the tables are side by side.   We cause a stir among the lunchtime crowd—most seem to be tourists.  I hear “college group” and that sounds about right.   Bruce, Carlos, Dick and I make sure we space ourselves among the twelve new guys so that each of them is somewhat close to one of us.  Of course, as the new guys come into the restaurant, they’re rubber-necking, gawking—they’ve never seen anything like this.

 

And the menus—of course each of the new guys gets his own menu—seem to be mysteries.  For one thing, none of them can read, so the four of us do a lot of reading.  The lunch menu is relatively simple—for an American.  For a new man, it must be hieroglyphics.  Bruce quietly asks the waitress is we can keep the menus—“for souvenirs.”  She says “Of course.”  They’re actually going to be used to teach reading.

 

To get things started, Bruce orders a plate of “Duke’s Nachos” for each table.  Then the four of us are besieged by questions: “What’s this?” Freezul says, pointing to “Duke’s Cheeseburger”—of course; he recognized “Duke” again and is interested.  So I try to explain that a part of a cow is ground up and covered with cheese, which is spoiled milk, and served with a green grass named “lettuce” and a red fruit named “tomato” between two pieces of round bread—hey!  It’s the best I could come up with!  But of course, Freezul asks, “What’s a cow?”

 

And so it goes.  Freezul also wants to now what the marks next to “Dukes Cheeseburger” mean.  “That’s ’18,’” I say.  “It’s how much the cheeseburger costs.”  And of course Freezul wants to know what “costs” means.  So I explain that everything on this island costs money.  Carlos has some dollars in his wallet, so he gets them out to show the guys—they pass around the money, looking at it carefully.  “But,” I say, “Bruce has a special card that allows him to pay for things without actually using real money.”  Bruce waves his American Express card for Freezul and the rest of the guys to see.  

 

It seems somewhat appropriate that Carlos has to describe what a taco is.  Dick takes a stab at explaining a pulled pork sandwich, and Bruce tries explaining teriyaki chicken.  Someone should have recorded all of us stumbling through explanations of things we all take for granted.

 

Soon the platters of “Duke’s Nachos” arrive and the four of us show how to use the corn chips to dip into the guacamole, pico de gallo, olives, etc.  We dip, we put the chips in our mouths and bite down.  Then the new guys try it.  I suggest: “Take turns: Freezul first, then Jamsul, then Miful—OK?”  The guys always agree, so they each get chips and some dip and bite into it.  “Oooh!  It tastes funny!” says Freezul.  But Jamsul says, “It tastes great!  Why can’t I eat all of it?”  “Because this is an appetizer,” I say, “it’s meant to be shared.”  In the back of my mind, I’m thinking an argument against bringing the new guys here is that they’re pretty much feral animals!

 

But it’s also not hard at all to see that all of the new guys are excited and happy and even overjoyed to be here.  And the four of us are also smiling—we all love these guys and are doing our best to show them “civilization”.

 

And there are special moments:  Freezul biting into his cheeseburger: “Oh!  This is wonderful!”  And Jamsul saying the same thing about his pulled pork.  So the guys are catching on to American culture pretty quickly.  

 

And they all share—of course they do; they’ve shared everything since they started to swim with long tentacles.  And the sharing is cute in and of itself.  I think each of the four of us ordered something different from what the men around us ordered, so I got Cajun Fish Tacos, and I only got three bites—they were a hit with the three guys sitting next to me.

 

Bruce also ordered Tropical Slushies for everyone—fruit juice slushies.  I’m sure that Dick and Carlos would rather have had a beer, but one look from Bruce and both boys realized, I guess, that introducing beer to the table could have unforeseen consequences.  Maybe for a later meal—like dinner.

 

But Bruce also ordered dessert for everyone: Kimo’s Original Hula Pie—a hot fudge sundae on a pie crust.  Bruce ordered four pies, so once again I had to say that the guys had to take turns.  Well, the experience of their first ice cream and chocolate fudge was little short of orgasmic.  I had to say “Shhhh!” several times.  

 

Once we were all fed and Bruce had signed the credit card bill, we got up and walked outside.  Immediately—as soon as we were outside—the four of us were hearing the same thing, “Can we go back there again?”  I think the guys were impressed.  

 

 

26

But Bruce has other plans.  During lunch, I see him on his phone, scrolling madly.  As we leave the restaurant, he says we’re going to walk up the street and rent a couple of vans.  He asks Dick to drive the other one—which is fine by me.  I almost never drive.  So, we get to the Economy Car Rental place and Bruce rents two vans—and asks how much it would cost to buy one of them, in case he likes driving it around.  

 

So Bruce and I get into one van and Dick and Carlos get into the other van, and the new guys divide up.  As soon as he gets into the van, Freezul asks “So is this a car?”  “No,” says Bruce. “It’s a van.  A car is much smaller, but there are twelve of you, so if you are going to stay, you’re going to need a van.”  I can’t help smiling and reaching over and kissing Bruce.  “You’re being Santa Claus!”  I say, but then regret it, because of course Freezul says, “What’s Santa Claus?”

 

“He’s a pretend story who brings presents to boys and girls—and Bruce, it seems, is playing Santa Claus for you guys!”

 

“So is this van a present?”—I’m not even sure if Freezul knows what a ‘present’ is, but Bruce says, “If you don’t wreck it!”

 

We drive out to the airport and find some vacant blacktop.  Bruce tells me to get in the back and Freezul and Jamsul to sit up front while he explains how the van works.  Apparently Bruce and Dick have already discussed this, since Dick has driven his van over a hundred yards away.  It’s driver education time!

 

Freezul, Jamsul, Miful, Dramsul, Limsul, and Trazul all listen intently to Bruce.  I’m not sure how they were physically able to get all of their heads around Bruce’s, but these guys have very little “personal space” when it comes to each other—they’re basically one shared organism.  And Bruce is so careful.  He shows them the wheel.  He shows them the ignition.  He makes sure all of them can see the accelerator near his foot; and he shows them the brake.   And then it’s time for a quiz.  Bruce asks each of the guys about the parts he just showed them.  

 

Then he shows them how to start, then how to increase speed, then how to steer; then how to brake.  We go slowly.  I look over at Dick’s van—and they’re going slowly too.  I just hope that Carlos is letting Dick do the instruction—Carlos has a tendency to blurt out something in his head, and it could break the guys’ concentration.  But then, Dick and Carlos have a pretty strong relationship.

 

And then, after driving around awhile, Bruce gets out of the driver’s seat and lets Freezul take the wheel.  I hold my breath.  But I soon see that I didn’t need to: Freezul is smart.  He listened carefully—and I imagine he wants this van!  Bruce has told him not to go above 15 mph, and Freeze follows his instructions.  Bruce asks him to turn to the left, and Freezul does.  Then to turn to the right, and he does.  Bruce says, “Good job!” and I echo that and applaud.  And all of Freezul’s buddies pat him on the back and kiss his cheek.  And I can’t help feeling love for all of them.

 

Dick’s van is nearly a mirror image of ours.  And not only for the first driver, but for the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth.  These guys follow instructions as if they were sacred text!  It takes a long time—nearly the whole afternoon—and it gets to be excruciatingly slow in places, but after all six of our guys have driven the van, Bruce tells Trazul to put the van in Park—and he has a little trouble finding it—and turn off the engine.

 

Bruce gets out and walks over to Dick’s van as Dick walks out of his van.  They talk.

 

When Bruce gets back in our van he says, “We’re going to take a little trip to a place where you guys can jump into the ocean like you did into the lagoon.  I just hope I can get us rooms!”

 

Freezul says, “We can always sleep together—we’ve been doing it all our lives!”

 

The jumping off place is Shipwreck Beach.  The travel websites says you shouldn’t jump, but youtube videos show kids doing it just the same—and our kids are in better shape.  Bruce takes us to The Point at Poipu, a big resort hotel near the beach.  Bruce gets us three rooms—the new guys say they could sleep all in one room, but Bruce says only five people will sleep in each room, so the hotel allows it.  The rooms are nice and the new guys bounce on the beds as if they’re three years old.  But Dick and Carlos soon have them interested in jumping off the cliff.

 

I look at the weather.  It’s a bit breezy.  Only fools would jump into a windy ocean.  So Bruce and I come too: we’ll be in the water, in case any of the guys gets sucked under or hits his head against something.  Freezul, of course objects: “Clark!  We can all swim—the ocean is our first home!”  I answer: “I don’t care: Bruce and I will be there if anything goes wrong!”

 

Of course nothing goes wrong.  All the guys dive spectacularly.  It’s almost like the new guys have been needing this—they need to have a way to re-connect with the ocean.  It makes sense.  Still, Bruce and I tread water and watch closely as each kid dives.  We’re so used to Dick and Carlos doing spectacular dives that I’m afraid Bruce and I are rather unconcerned.  But we shout out “Bravo!” for each of the new guys—and they really have learned a lot from Dick and Carlos.

 

But it is January, and it is breezy.  So after each guy has done three dives, we call an end to the show.  The guys all moan and say they want to do some more dives.  Bruce and I relent: “OK; one more dive, but we have to find a place to eat dinner!”  And that gets their interest.  Jamsul says, “Are we going back to Duke’s?”  “No,” says Bruce.  “We’ll find something closer to where we are.”  But all the guys seem to have saved their best dives for last: lots of spinning and tucks, lots of leaping high into the air so they get to do more acrobatics on their way down.  It’s quite a show.  And they all come away happy.

 

 

27

We go back to our rooms.  Bruce tells everyone to take a shower—and then we realize that the new boys need to be shown how to do that.  Dick and Carlos each take one of the new guys’ rooms, to show how the showers work, and what soap and shampoo do.  And of course, with 12 young men who have never had a shower, it takes forever.

 

Bruce wanders down to the main desk to ask about nearby restaurants, so I go to the boys’ rooms to see if anyone needs help.  “Clark!” Freezul says, “They have a waterfall right in our room!”  He’s dripping wet, having just walked out of the shower.  I duck into the bathroom and grab a towel: “This is a towel—to dry yourself off.  Otherwise, you’ll drip all over the carpet.”  And since I love the kid, I start drying his blond hair with the towel.  “The tow-el smells good!” he says.  Then of course he gives me a kiss.  Carlos gives me a smile and a shrug of exasperation.  I think our two boys have just about reached their limit in dealing with their new brothers.

 

Once we’re all showered and dried and dressed, we head down to the lobby, where we find Bruce.  He has a map of the area.  He’s decided to take the boys to Kalapaki Joe’s, a sports bar not too far away.  He says, “The closest restaurants are at the Grand Hyatt Resort—and a little too pricey for the lot of us.  So, maybe we’ll watch some football or basketball.”  He smiles as he looks at me:  “You get the basketball questions!” and I get a little kiss on my cheek.  I shudder to think of trying to explain setting a pick—maybe I’ll stick to traveling and free throws!

 

Bruce shows the map to Dick; all the guys pile into the two vans, and we take off.  Jamsul says, “We should all get tacos!”  Bruce smiles: “I hear they have excellent tacos!”  “”Hooray!” say Jamsul and Freezul and Miful, while Dramzul, Limsul and Trazul smile.  Then Bruce says, “Kalapaki Joe’s is a sports bar: people go there to watch a football or basketball game.  People can get pretty loud when their team is winning, but most of all, they want to watch, so we’ll try to sit further away from the television screens.”  

 

Of course, Freezul has a question: “What’s a team?”  Bruce and I smile at each other.  I say, “It’s a collection of people who are on the same side.”  “So, we’re a team!” Freezul says with a smile.  “Yes,” I say, “I suppose we are!”  I’m beginning to have misgivings about going to a sports bar: it will be loud and the new boys may be bewildered by it all.  Still, Carlos can field basketball questions as well as I can, and Dick can help out with football questions.

 

We look like a bunch of college athletes with their coaches as we enter, which is pretty close to what we are—minus the college part.  Bruce arranges to have several tables moved close together for us.  We can see the big TV screens, but just barely.  There’s a football game—NFL playoffs—and a basketball game: Nuggets and Warriors.  Bruce and Dick sit in view of the football game; Carlos and I sit in view of the basketball game.  And of course, Freezul has a question: “What’s basketball?”

 

I’d love to give some history of the game, a reference to Naismith and peach baskets, but I decide against it.  “At each end of the court is a basket.  It’s ten feet from the floor. The players try to put the ball through the basket.  They get two points per basket, three points if they are beyond that line you see a little further away from the basket.  Are you following me so far?”  Six heads nod. “Now, there are two teams on the floor—they have different colored uniforms.  The team with the ball tries to take the ball down to their basket.  The team without the ball tries to block them.  Do you understand?”  More nods.  Then Jamsul says, “Why are some of the players black?”  And I realize he’s never seen an African-American.  “They’re black because their people came from Africa.  The world is a big place!”

 

Miful says, “Why did that guy just hit the ball out of the other player’s hand?”  “That was a steal.  As long as he didn’t hit the other player’s arm or hand or body, it’s a good play—and look: he took the ball all the way to his own basket at the other end of the court, and he made a basket!”  More nods.  I may be gaining some basketball converts!

 

Bruce has ordered an appetizer again—more nachos, a platter for each table.  And the boys are famished, of course—they’re boys—so they are much more interested in scooping up the refried beans and pico de gallo than basketball.  But Dramzul says, “Ooh!  That’s hot!  Don’t eat the green things!”  “Those are jalapeños,” Carlos says.  “If you don’t want them, give them to me!”  He smiles as four new boys give him their jalapeños.  I say, “Carlos is from Mexico, where jalapeños are a regular part of the diet.  But they are an acquired taste—that is, you have to get used to them!”  

 

Jamsul says, “Why are these nachos different from the ones we had for lunch?”  “Because,” I say, “every restaurant makes their nachos a little different.”  Meanwhile, all the boys have menus and I have to point out the tacos and read the description of each one.  They order fish tacos, shrimp tacos and pork-pineapple tacos.  I get an order of those.  Carlos gets the Carne Asada Steak tacos.  

 

Bruce has ordered beers for the four of us, and Heineken non-alcoholic beers for the new boys.  He’s ordered Heineken Pale Lagers for Carlos and Dick, while he and I get Stellas.  The rule is that each of the new boys gets to taste two of our beers—and if they hate the taste of beer altogether, they can have iced tea.  Of course, about half of the new boys can’t stand the taste of beer, even if it’s non-alcoholic Heineken, so the waiter has to go back and get them iced teas.  But all the boys want to try our beers—even the boys who hate the taste of their non-alcoholic Heinekens.

 

But when the tacos arrive, everyone is happy.  And everyone in the pub closer to the TVs seems pretty happy too—or rather, drunk and happy.  Even drinking non-alcoholic beers, some of the boys seem a bit high.  Several start cheering every time a player makes a basket—on either team.  It quickly gets annoying.  Carlos says “Shhh!” and I say, “Do you see anyone else cheering for every basket?”  And I immediately regret it—they’ve never seen basketball; they don’t know how to behave.  So I say I’m sorry I yelled at them.  Of course, Freezul asks which team I’m supporting—he says he wants to support that team.  I tell him I normally support the Knicks, but since they’re not in this game, I’m supporting the Nuggets, even though I know the Warriors are the better team.

 

But then Freezul says, “What’s a nugget?” too loudly.  And a nearby patron says, “A piece of shit!”  And that confuses Freezul.  “Why did he say that?”  “Because,” I say, “he’s probably a Warrior fan and he doesn’t like the Nuggets.  A nugget is a piece of gold—at one time found in the Rockies outside Denver, the home of the Denver Nuggets.  So a nugget can be a chunk of dirt with gold inside it—and this fan just wants to say something bad about the Denver team.”

 

But my explanation must have been too difficult for the Warriors fan to follow.  He turns to me and says, “Are you dissing me?”  And he gets up and walks over to our table.  He’s big, but he’s mostly fat.  So I get up and meet him, eye-to-eye.  ‘“f you want to make something of it,” I say, “we can go outside!”  I have my glasses on; I’m in full “Clark Kent, mild-manner reporter” mode.  Bruce looks over and smiles.  So does Dick.  Carlos looks a bit more expectant—I think he’d like to see me trash this guy.

 

The Warriors fan looks me over but I guess the glasses make him think he can get the better of me.  He takes a swing at me.  I stop his fist in mid-swing; my hand covers his fist.  I give the slightest squeeze to his hand and he says “OW!” and withdraws his fist, cupping it in his other hand as he gives me this wild, bewildered look.  But he backs away, mumbles something and then sits down.  

 

Then Jamsul says, “Good thing he doesn’t’’—I turn around and shoot him a glance that could wither a tree.  He shuts up.  Freezul puts his arm around Jamsul and whispers something in his ear.  Jamsul looks down and whispers, “Sorry!”

 

But the incident only gets me to thinking about what would be best for the new boys.  Every experience on Kauai has been a big event.  I think we need to talk with them about their future.  So I tell Carlos to “Hold the fort” and nod to Bruce—and he does the same with Dick.  We walk as far away from our tables as we can, while still being able to see them.

 

“We need to talk with them about what they want to do,” I say.

 

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.  Let’s go for ice cream and have a conference in the parking lot.”

 

“Great idea!”

 

 

28

We stop by an ice cream shop on the way back to the hotel.  The choice of ice creams isn’t Baskin-Robbins, but even then, the new boys have trouble deciding what to get.  Bruce and Dick recommend the special—pineapple—so most of us get pineapple.  And it’s delicious.  

 

We take our cones outside and find a place in the parking lot away from all the other cars.  Most of the new boys are in some state of taste orgasm—“Oh wow!  Freezul, is yours as good as mine?”—so it’s probably a good idea that we’re further away from everyone else.  But this is also a business meeting.  So while Carlos and Dick sit with the new boys, Bruce and I sit across from all of them.  Bruce starts:

 

“So, you’ve had a day on Kauai.  Have you had a good time?”

 

“Oh yes!“ comes from several of the guys.  Jamsul says, “But I still want to go back to Duke’s!” and everyone laughs.  

 

Bruce says, “We’ll see more of the island tomorrow.  But Clark and I think you need to start thinking about what you want to do.  The four of us are leaving the day after tomorrow.  Do you want to stay here on Kauai?  Or do you want to go back to your island?”

 

Freezul, of course, has to say something: “I don’t know what all the other guys think, but I want a third idea.  I don’t think I can live here without you and Clark.”  He looks around and sees nodding heads.  “I guess we could, but I would miss you and Clark and Carlos and Dick so much!”

 

I look at Bruce and then say to Freezul, “But the place where we live is so very, very, very different from what you know.  It’s cold.”  Carlos and Dick and Bruce are all nodding.  “Colder than anything you’ve ever experienced.  You have to wear heavy clothes or you will die—that’s how cold it gets.”  More nodding from Carlos and Dick and Bruce.

 

Dick says, “That’s why we came to your island—because it’s so warm!  Right now, back at our house, there’s snow and ice on the ground—very cold stuff that you’ve never seen!”  Suddenly a cloud goes across Freezul’s face:  “You mean it’s dangerous to live there?  But if it’s so dangerous, why do you live there?”

 

“Because,” Carlos says, “it’s only cold for half of the year.  In the summer, it’s just as warm as here!”

 

“But,” says Bruce, “Both Clark and I have jobs that mean we have to work when it’s cold.  We bundle up when we go outside, but we work inside most of the time.”

 

Dramzul says, “Then can we bundle up to go outside and work inside most of the time?”  Eleven heads nod.  I’m getting the strong sense that the new boys want to go back to Gotham.  I look at Bruce.  Then I stand up, turn my back to the new boys and Bruce stands up and we whisper: “I didn’t see this coming” I say.  “I did,” he says. “You’re so good and they love you—they don’t want to be away from you!”  “Oh come on!” I say, “They love you just as much!”

 

“Clark’s right!” Freezul yells; “We love you both.  We don’t want to live without you!”  Bruce and I turn around and see twelve heads nodding.  I see the shadow of a blush on my love’s face.  But he recovers: “I need a family conference with Dick and Carlos!  You guys talk to each other.  Here—here’s some money”—he hands them a fifty—“Go share some more ice cream or an ice.”  All the boys jump up.  Freezul grabs the money and the new boys run back into the ice cream shop.

 

We all sit down.  Bruce looks at Carlos and Dick: “What do you guys think?  Are you ready to have twelve new brothers at Wayne Manor?  Do you understand what this means for your lives?”

 

Dick looks at Carlos and then says, “A lot of responsibility.”  He pauses.  “I guess we can let them have the spare rooms in the east wing—they’d have to triple or quadruple up, but that doesn’t seem to bother them.”

 

“And I guess we’ll have to teach them how to read and write,” Carlos says, and he turns to me: “Clark could you help out with that?”  I nod and say, “Of course.  But you guys will have to be like resident advisors in college—the new guys will be your responsibility.  You’ll have to move in with them.  They’ll put a serious crimp in your social lives!”

 

Carlos snorts: “What social lives?  Besides, this guy is most of my social life,” and he puts his muscled arm around Dick’s shoulders—and they both smile.

 

“And,” I say, “The new guys cannot—can not—blab our other identities—Jamsul nearly did it tonight!”

 

“I know, but I said was sorry!”  Jamsul says as he comes toward us, sharing a mint chocolate ice cream cone with Freezul.  The other guys are all behind them—it seems we really can’t have lives separate from them.  They want in our lives!

 

Bruce looks at me; we stand up, then Bruce takes a deep breath:  “If you come with us, it will mean a very big change for you and for us as well.  For one thing, we’ll have to get you more clothes.  For another, you will have to go to work.  You can’t live at Wayne Manor without having a job.  Dick and Carlos have jobs.  Clark has a job in another city and he visits us on weekends.  You will have to learn to read and write and find jobs.  It will not be easy.  Your life on the island was easy compared to what you will face in Gotham!”

 

Freezul, of course, is ready for this: “But our lives on the island were also pretty boring!”  Eleven heads nod.  “And we all do love you—all four of you—so very much!”  Tears start down his face.  “I know I am willing to learn to read and write and get a job and wear big clothes—but I have to be close to you guys!”  And he rushes at Bruce and me and throws his arms around us.

 

Well, I’m in tears.  And soon all the other guys are hugging Carlos and Dick and Bruce and me.

 

 

29

So rather than seeing the rest of the island, the next day is spent shopping for clothes: jeans and long sleeved shirts and the warmest jackets we can find on a tropical island.  Carlos and Dick are very busy, helping all the guys choose shirts and jeans and sneakers.  But we do make Jamsul happy: we go back to Duke’s for lunch!

 

Bruce has several phone calls back to Gotham: to his financial director—apparently he has to sell some stock to get the money to support twelve more young men.  And he calls Alfred to get several rooms ready for twelve young men.  And he calls a tutoring agency to hire an English tutor for the new boys.  Once Bruce decides to do something, he goes all in—one of the reasons I love him.

 

Then Bruce has to revise our fights.  In the middle of clothes shopping, he tells me we can’t go back tomorrow; he can only get sixteen tickets together on the day after tomorrow.  So I have to call The Planet and say I won’t be back for another day or two.  And then we sit down with Carlos and Dick and talk about how we get twelve completely inexperienced young men through Honolulu airport and then—the true test—O’Hare!

 

But we do see more of the island that next day: we go up the west side of Kauai to see the big Waimea Canyon, “The Grand Canyon of the Pacific.”  It’s stunning and scary for some of the new guys—but it’s also a good way to start the new guys thinking of their teams: Team Dick and Team Carlos.  Dick and Carlos are going to be responsible for leading the new guys through Honolulu and O’Hare.  And the teams may be a good way of organizing things at Wayne Manor.

 

On the way back from Waimea Canyon, we stop at a taco place in Waimea and, once again, the boys like their tacos.  I tell Bruce he’s going to need to tell Alfred to get some taco fixings!

 

Before we took our trip to Waimea Canyon, Bruce checked us in to the Marriott near the airport, so we could stash all the new clothes—and the new luggage which Bruce bought the new guys.  

 

Around the pool we have some discussion about where to eat dinner.  Of course, Jamsul wants to go back to Duke’s.  Bruce says, “It’s too expensive.  We need to go somewhere cheaper.  Hualanis is cheaper and closer.”  I whisper to Freezul, “The airline tickets cost a lot; that’s why we need to find someplace cheaper for dinner.”  He nods and starts a whisper which spreads through the new men.

 

Carlos and Dick organize a game of water polo—Team Carlos against Team Dick.  I’m the ref.  But the guys can’t keep from having fun: Dick and Carlos take a time out so they can kiss in the middle of the pool and all the other guys take a cue and kiss an opponent as well—they think it’s part of the game! 

 

One of the reasons for taking rooms at the Marriott is that they have a free shuttle to the airport.  Hualanis is a good place for dinner, and it’s so close we walk to it.  We all take extra bread and fruit when we leave Hualanis that evening.  We won’t have time for breakfast in the morning.  

 

Getting all the new guys to the shuttle and to the airport and on the plane—it’s a major undertaking.  Carlos and Dick are wonderful: they keep the boys together.  The boys, of course, are full of questions.  Freezul nearly becomes part of my arm—he attaches himself to me as we walk to the airplane.  And this attachment only grows as we walk through Honolulu airport and the boys are astonished by all the people.  I whisper to Freezul, “And the crowds at O’Hare are even worse.”

 

On the place between Honolulu and O’Hare, a meal is served.  Since we’re flying economy class, there’s little choice—inin fact, essentially, there’s no choice. The boys share their choices and it only takes a few “Shhhs!” from the four of us to keep order.  But the boys also share their seats: each one of them wants to sit next to the window, so early in the flight every few minutes, the boys get up and change seats.  Luckily, as we reach the mainland, they’re all tired and even as the in-flight movie plays, they nod off.

 

At O’Hare, Dick and Carlos make sure the new guys line up, stay together and we get to our flight.  We can feel the Illinois cold through the big airport windows, but we’re so busy getting from one gate to the other that we don’t notice the cold that much.  The boys pull their jackets tighter.  I actually look around to make sure none of the new guys has wandered off.  But they have a natural adherence to each other—they don’t want to be far from each other—so that getting through O’Hare is easier than I had feared.

 

Once we get to Gotham Airport, the full weight of January hits the new guys in the face.  We stand outside, waiting for a van taxi to take us home.  One after another of the new guys says, “I don’t like this cold!  Maybe we should have gone back to our island!”  I say “Too late!  You chose to come home with us—you’ll have to learn to live with the cold!”  But that just means Freezul hugs my arm and says, “I’m still happy I’m with you!”

 

 

30

I take another day off from work, just so I can stay at Wayne Manor and help the new guys settle in.  They are, of course, amazed at the size of the place.  They all hug and kiss Alfred when he’s introduced—they seem to intuit that he’s important.  They’ve never had a grandfather, so maybe they think Alfred is it.  He’s terribly embarrassed at first, but he smiles a little, so I think he likes it.  

 

Meals are now always served in the formal dining room.  And this means more lessons for the new guys: like waiting until everyone is present before puling out your chair and sitting down.  Like putting a napkin in your lap.  Like passing platters of food.  Like being nice to the wait staff and asking for drink refills with “Please”.  But all of the new guys do very well.

 

And Team Dick and Team Carlos work very well.  I go to the rooms.  Dick and Carlos have moved their room to be next to the new guys; the new guys sleep four to a room—but there’s not a hint of discord—they love being close to each other.  I give them all kisses and hugs before I have to fly back to Metropolis.

 

The next weekend, I fly in on Friday and am smothered by kisses from several of the new guys—Freezul, of course, leaps onto me first.  They all gabble at once so I can’t understand a thing.  So I say “Freezul first, then each guy gets to tell me something.”  I can see Dick and Carlos in the background, smiling big smiles—apparently the teams are working very well.

 

Freezul says, “We have an English tutor and he’s cute!”  He looks over at Miful and then smiles and says, “And Miful’s in love!”  And since Miful looks down and blushes, I guess he is, but I still ask, “Miful, are you in love?”  He looks down even more and then whispers, “Well, Teacher Mike is awfully nice!”  And all the new guys laugh and hug and kiss Miful, who, of course, blushes even more.

 

I ask, “Are you learning English?  Is anyone having any trouble with it?”  Jamsul says, “It’s a very confusing language—especially the spelling!”  I say, “I know, it doesn’t make sense.”  Then I say “Do you know why?”  I have the attention of twelve young men.  “Because English is the child of German and French—and the Germans and French have always hated each other!”   That information goes right over their heads.  

 

But I soon learn that they love the gym and they love the pool and Carlos and Dick are teaching them acrobatics on the rings and weight lifting.  And I learn that they’ve had a snowball fight—they went outside in the cold and wore gloves on their hands and they learned how to reach down into the snow and make a snowball—and then throw it at each other.  And they loved how Carlos and Dick threw snowballs at each other and then tackled—“Is that the right word?”—each other in the snow and then kissed.

 

Bruce then shows up and gives me a kiss.  I ask, “How are you doing with this onslaught of beautiful young men!”  “I manage—but I’d manage better if you were here!”  And I get a bigger, deeper kiss.  And all the new guys say “Oooooo!”  So I guess they’re getting Americanized.

 

We have a good time that weekend.  We stay around the manor.  I become an English tutor for Dramzul and Traful.  I give the boys my email address and tell them they can write me if they have questions about anything.  I figure their writing me is another lesson in English—but it can be a strain for Dick and Carlos, so I say only two guys can write me per day.   The next week, I realize that I have to be brief in my answers—or Dick and Carlos will have even more work to do.  But I love getting their emails and I think it helps them learn to write a bit faster.  And I notice that Freezul writes more than anyone.   

 

When Spring finally comes, the boys can’t wait for the pool to be ready.  And once it is, they all flock to it, and Carlos and Dick join in—since the new guys have absolutely no need of lifeguards.

 

Slowly, the new guys learn to read and write.  Bruce arranges for them to be adopted by him and to receive Social Security numbers—so they can get jobs.   Most of the boys take “Wayne” as their surname—except for Freezul, Jamsul, and Miful; they choose “Kent”.  Bruce encourages them to get jobs.  

 

Freezul reads that a nearby beach has lifeguard openings, so he goes, applies, and swims better than other applicants, so he gets the job.  But it doesn’t go as planned.  All—all eleven—of his brothers show up, day after day, at Freezul’s job.  Of course they swim—they love swimming in the ocean.  Freezul knows they all swim as well as he does, so he only looks at them once or twice.  And of course he talks with them whenever they show up at the lifeguard station—all eleven of them.  The other lifeguard at the station asks them why they hang around Freezul.  “Because we always stay with each other,” Jamsul says.  “We always have,” Dramsul says.  The lifeguard asks if their mother gave birth to them all at once.  Miful answers, “No, but she did leave soon after all of us were born.”  “Then did your dad raise you?”  “Oh yes,” says Jamsul, “He’s Super—“ but Freezul interrupts him and says, “We have a super dad!”  

 

But the other lifeguard thinks having eleven brother hanging around all the time is just plain weird.  So he files a formal complaint—not against anything Freezul has done, but at his brothers always hanging around.  Since the lifeguard has some pull, Freezul is let go.  He’s crushed.  Dick and Carlos and Bruce have a big meeting with all the boys.  They talk about the boys getting separate jobs and doing their best not to hang around with each other.  They can still be together at home, at the Manor.  But 12 guys hanging around together out in society—that’s a gang, and it’s scary to some people.

 

This is a hard lesson for the boys to learn.  They cry.  They hate the idea of being separated from each other.  I come over at the weekend and talk with Frezul and Jamsul and Miful and a few of the others.  More tears.  And Bruce has his own conversations.  We go out to eat at a nearby Mexican restaurant with excellent tacos.  Jamsul says the tacos are nearly as good as the ones at Duke’s.  But slowly, over several weeks, we get the boys to see themselves as having separate identities and different likes.  They start to take steps toward different jobs.  Ultimately, their job choices are interesting: 

 

Jamsul gets a job in the Mexican restaurant where he liked the tacos.  Of course, Carlos has been teaching him about Mexican cuisine all winter, and Carlos knows the chef at the restaurant.  He likes Jamsul’s sunny attitude and gives Jamsul his job.  The chef is always pleased when Jamsul comes to work—his attitude is always a plus in the kitchen.

 

Freezul becomes my intern at The Planet.  I say he’s a distant cousin on my dad’s side, from Smallville.  When he moves out of Wayne Manor, there are lots of tears, but he’s very happy living in my spare room and following me around like a puppy dog at work.  He’s naturally inquisitive, and he soon winds up at the City Desk.  It seems city politicians and big wigs don’t mind being asked questions by a kid who looks like a distant relation of Robert Redford.  And on weekends, we take the train to Gotham and then a taxi to Wayne Manor—no way am I going to risk dropping him by flying to the manor!

 

Dramzul and Trazul get jobs at the airport, loading and unloading baggage.  When we were at Honolulu airport and then at O’Hare, they couldn’t keep their eyes off the baggage handlers.  They spend hours in the gym at Wayne Manor lifting weights.  They get a job at Newark; their work only increases their upper body mass, and soon they look like junior bodybuilders.  But the work doesn’t require them to read or write much, so they’re happy.  And they learn—with Carlos’ help--how to navigate the subway and bus system.

 

Some of Dick’s new guys—Katsul and Grazul—get jobs as interns with the Gotham Police.  This is after weeks and months of talking with Dick and Carlos, and then with Bruce, about “catching bad guys.”  They’re both big and strong and prove their worth by tackling a suspect running away.  They soon enroll in the Police Academy—and Bruce and I become constant tutors as the boys have questions about law and language.

 

Limsul finds a Sudoku in the newspaper his first week at the manor and thinks it’s child’s play.  He shows “a fine head for figures” so Bruce gets him a job as an intern with his financial advisor.  After a few months, Limsul proves himself so well that he’s offered a job as an assistant.  He’s very happy, since it means he can stay at Wayne Manor.  When he’s not bookkeeping he’s in Bruce’s library, reading history.

 

Miful indeed falls in love with Teacher Mike, and Mike takes him under his wing (and to his apartment and his bed) and helps him enroll in community college.  Mike and I correspond a lot about Miful’s essays—they’re all interesting and engaging, and Mike and I have long discussions with Miful about his prose stye and recommendations for reading.  And the kid takes to American literature as if it were water; every month he has a new infatuation: Twain, Hemingway, Fitzgerald—and a particularly dark period when he gets interested in Faulkner and Mike and I get a ton of questions about slavery and racism in Mississippi.  He will eventually become a writing teacher.

 

As soon as Niftul and Pepul see the inside of Bruce’s garage, they become infatuated with cars.  So Bruce lets them apprentice with his own garage mechanics, and the boys come up from work smudged with grease on their faces but with huge smiles.  So Bruce hires them as garage assistants, and when his old garage mechanic retires, he hires both boys on a shared contract.  They’re very happy.

 

Samsul and Rascul start following Alfred around nearly the first day they’re at the manor.  Then they hang around the kitchen; the cooks give them odd jobs and then more important jobs and soon they’re preparing dishes.  They often show up late for dinner.  Only after dinner does Alfred reveal that they made some of the dishes—and the rest of the new guys and Bruce and Dick and Carlos stand and applaud them.  Soon the chef and Bruce get them interviews at several restaurants in Gotham.  They perform well and get hired as apprentices in one of the better kitchens.  They still live at Wayne Manor for awhile, but soon they want to move into the city, to be closer to their work.  When they can, they come back to Wayne Manor on weekends.

 

Weekends at the manor are reunions.  Sometimes the cooks or the police trainees can’t come, but most of the time, most of us are there.  The next winter, Bruce gets us all reservations at a ski resort and we have a lot of fun.  Dick and Carlos teach the new guys how to ski—and most of them take to it quickly and easily.  Miful, however, has become an English nerd.  He reads Emerson, drinks hot cocoa and watches his brothers on the slopes.  

 

Bruce knows Freezul loves me, and it’s been a bit of an ethical dilemma for me.  I keep my distance—I’m nothing if not faithful to Bruce.  And Freezul knows this—but his heart doesn’t accept it.  So I stray one time—and we both feel awful about it.  When I tell Bruce he says, “I already know!”  and he gives me a big kiss—right in front of Freezul.  But I help Freezul find his own studio apartment in Metropolis.  We still work together and meet for lunch, but I’m happy to say he’s  seeing a well-built reporter from Sports.

 

It certainly has cost Bruce a lot of money and all four of us a lot of time, but we have helped the new guys learn English and get familiar with American society.  I still worry about them—and I’m happy when Freezul calls me from time to time.  Slowly, all the new boys leave Wayne Manor and find their own places—sometimes with some financial help from Bruce.  But they “find their own way” and after awhile our weekend reunions are less attended; instead we all get together for Christmas at Wayne Manor and maybe a ski vacation or a picnic on Long Island.  But the new boys have become their own men with their own lives.  And Bruce, Dick, Carlos and I always welcome them back for a visit.

 

 

The End