The Champions: Julian's Private Scrapbook

By Eldot

I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.
- Celia, As You Like It, Act II scene iv

Camp Walker is like the idyllic Forest of Ardena place away, where the characters can focus on essential matters of the heart while they play. They discover who they are and what they need; they are enabled to return to the regular world with problems solved, lessons learned, and skills readied for facing the challenges of life.

The Champions is the last part in the five book Scrapbook series. It explores the world through the eyes of a young gay boy. His needs and desires are looked at honestly, with a sense of humorand without debilitating present day prejudice at the controls.

Julian has established himself as a leader and gained the respect that he has sought for so long. He discovers that it is wise to go slowly. Unknown to him, his experienced competition stumbles in haste, and fails; he comes closer to achieving his original objective than either heor Markrealize.

Surrounded by hundreds of scouts, all working to get ahead, Julian finds a way to shine. His artistic ability grows by leaps. His insight into human nature makes his friendship valuable and helpful to others.

Story lines begun earlier are resolved, along with a few late developments. These last three days at camp are even more fun. The busload of boys returns home with much achieved; two weeks of hard work has been full of fun and discovery.



Are there no lived happily thereafter endings in a gay boys coming of age story?

Of course there are. Theyre just kept secret. Otherwise, the happy part gets destroyed. Thats the way it is in real life.

Real life stories carry baggagequestions about factual detail tend to upstage and distract the reader. Key story and thematic elements often get lost. If the story contains intimacies, scandalmongers cluster and buzz about like fruit flies, and the important issues get drowned out by the din.

These negative forces have been pushed aside for this telling of the story. Julians Private Scrapbook employs the fiction writers toolkit in place of documentary literalness.


Charming and humorous, the novel successfully ends the series told from a gay perspective, this is a wonderful look at boys transitioning between childhood and adulthood.
BlueInk Review



Troop Nine Victorious
Six first places and the relay!
Ten Honor Ribbons
Best troop for the fourth year.



Julian makes a new lifelong friend.
Dannys short water polo career ends well; on Friday he is discovered by Tonyinstant electricity.
Tom and Nick help Freddys Shooting Gallery end with a special treat.
There is secret night action as well. On Thursday, Geoff appears at Marks cabin door just before midnight. On Friday, Tony arrives at Dannys tent after lights out.
Friday is graduation. Tom organizes the last day competitions. Julian presents his oversize portraits to Leonard and Sarge.
Saturday: morning is the relay races, afternoon the awards, packing up to leave. During the last camp assembly, Leonard gets a special lesson in art appreciation from Geoff. The long ride home is busy... especially the hour after dark.
Julians goal for camp remains unachievedor does it? What are the prospects for the future? What has happened at home?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479780433

Eldot

cover design already provided

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Eldot.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 08/28/2014

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

598636

Contents

Key to Symbols

Preface… The Champions

Second Thursday

1   Before breakfast

2   Inspecting again

3   Sarge and Julian

4   MVP

5   Geoff’s frustration

6   Bull’s-eye at last

7   Geoff’s consolation

8   The challenge

9   Framing

10   After supper

11   The standing pose

12   The midnight visit

Second Friday

13   The midnight ride

14   Friday and fresh

15   Business as usual, kind of

16   Tom the organizer

17   Uncle Max at work

18   Danny and Tony 1

19   Touching base

20   Tony and Danny 2

21   The art critic

22   Geoff’s Plan B

23   The special rig

24   Chocolate pudding

25   Certificate day

26   Boardwalk business

27   Sixteen and Seven

28   Last campfire

29   Tony the Tiger

Second Saturday

30   Early Saturday

31   Last breakfast at the Lynx camp

32   The races

33   Packing up

34   The safari

35   Leonard keeps his promise

36   Departing

37   Rest stop

38   Phone tree

39   Back on the bus

40   Parking lot

41   Backseat rider

48729.png

Visual Material

Barr’s Meadow

HQ Cafeteria

Camp Walker

Barr’s Meadow Cabin

Geoff’s Trail Map

HQ Second Floor

Barr’s Meadow Detail

Waterfront

Warehouse Detail

Camp Walker

Supplementary Material

afterword from Eldot

Camp Walker Competition Report

Preface to the Little J and Roger series

Preface to Thunder and Lightning

Synopsis of Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4

Site Descriptions

Camp Walker Staff [June 1962]

Camp Walker Headquarters

Glossary for terms in Julian’s Private Scrapbook, Part 5

a word from Eldot about the style…

a word about the author

about the Julian’s Private Scrapbook and Little J and Roger Series

53354.png47747.png

To LD, my first fantasy—Eldot

Novels in the Julian’s Private Scrapbook series:

Barr’s Meadow

The Poker Club

The Shooting Gallery

Thunder and Lightning

The Champions

Publisher’s Note:

This book is a revision of Little J and Roger, Book Five. It is intended for a mature audience. The subject is hugely controversial and sensitive. It is not written to serve or encourage prurient interests; it contains no pornography, profanity or graphic language, but there are several intimate male/male passages. Readers who are offended by that should not read this book. All the characters in the story were 62 years of age or older at the time the story was written in 2010.

Please store this e-book where it cannot be accessed by minors.

48715.png

Author’s note: The Champions is a sequel, the final segment of a five part series. It begins in the morning, the day after the conclusion of Thunder and Lightning, Part 4. The main characters and situations are in medias res; readers who are new to the series may be at a disadvantage. The major characters and their stories are reaching a finish, a resolution of actions and themes begun in prior segments. Occasional references to events in the previous novels will provide some context, but there is no retelling or repeating earlier material. In the event that the reader would value a refresher, or did not read the previous parts, a synopsis of the first four has been provided as an appendix. Descriptions of Camp Walker and Barr’s Meadow from Part 1 are included as well. These are not essential, though they could answer a question or two that may arise.

The custom of prefacing each day at camp with a brief preview is continued; this is designed as a convenience to the reader in keeping the wide range of characters and stories organized. Maps and floor plans from previous parts are inserted in places where they could enhance the Part 5 episodes. The glossary and index are expanded to include information about characters and subjects that were introduced and developed in the previous novels. The Preface to the series is presented as well, just before the synopsis.

The glossary provides explanatory information about particulars in Part 5; some were utilized in one or more of the previous novels and are repeated because of their continuing relevance.

The placement of this story in a scout camp has not been made with permission. The story is not about any organization or its activities, goals, or personnel. It is about specific fictional characters and what is happening in their lives outside of the scouting domain. Presumably much of what the characters do would not be approved or condoned by any scout organization, and nowhere is such a thing suggested or inferred. But the scouting enterprise is so universal and ubiquitous that scout camp has become nearly generic in our culture. It is a logical setting in which to focus on these characters’ lives. The scout organization in this story, entirely fictional as well, is depicted with respect and admiration whenever and wherever it is mentioned.

Julian’s Private Scrapbook is a work of fiction, though its origin is in true life experience. Similarities to actual persons and places have been systematically modified to eliminate any basis for recognition. Some of the places exist, but are used fictitiously.

48724.png

Key to Symbols

48729.png

Preface… The Champions

In its present guise, this story began in a small town in central North Carolina; it was set into motion a year later in a small cozy mountain cabin. This remarkable place—safe from the challenges and confusions that prevail everywhere else, allowed Julian’s remarkable story to get its foundation. This cabin is in Barr’s Meadow, the premium campsite at Camp Walker, in the North Carolina Blue Mountains. This is the final segment in telling about that foundation.

The term guise reveals a fact that readers might want to know up front: a true story has been costumed and placed into a fictional setting entitled Julian’s Private Scrapbook.

Real life biographical stories carry baggage—questions about factual detail tend to upstage and distract the reader. Key story and thematic elements often get lost in the process. Moreover, if the story contains intimacies, and this one does, the scandalmongers cluster and buzz about like fruit flies, and the important issues get lost in the din.

These negative forces have been pushed aside for this telling of the story. By employing the fiction writer’s toolkit, the author must rely on the reader’s willing suspension of disbelief to satisfy the requirements of documentary literalness.

There is a considerable body of explanatory essay material about this book and its process. Some has appeared in previous books in the series. It is important and valid information, because this series is very unusual. But it doesn’t need to sit up front. It’s at the back of the book where it can be referred to whenever need or curiosity tugs.

Anyone new to the Scrapbook series would do well to look at that material—the story is not just underway—it’s approaching its final phase. Aside from those supplements, little provision is made to explain or to get readers up to speed.

Just to be clear: the truth and beauty of the story are the same as in the underlying real life story. It is fiction’s job to enable truth and beauty to prevail in the reader’s mind. So without further delay, lets get back to the story and to that very special cabin.

48746.png

Barr’s Meadow

126227%20Image%201%20Barr%27s%20Meadow%20Map.tif

Second Thursday

Day 12

Before breakfast

Inspecting again

Sarge and Julian

MVP

Geoff’s frustration

Bull’s-eye at last

Geoff’s consolation

The challenge

Framing

After supper

The standing pose

The midnight visit

Barr’s Meadow

HQ Cafeteria

Camp Walker

Barr’s Meadow Cabin

[Reminder: the index entry for each character provides a thumbnail sketch of what happened in the previous four books.]

48924.png

Julian’s Private Scrapbook

Twelfth Day: Second Thursday

Eleven days ago, Mark Schaefer brought his scout troop to Camp Walker for its annual two-week summer camp. This is his fifth camp as a scoutmaster, and it is the most momentous for him personally and professionally. His decision on the first day to house Julian in the cabin has proven to be a success for Julian, and unexpectedly, for himself. His intent was to shield Julian from extra-curricular encounters. Julian has had an unexpected impact; his own life goals are being examined anew.

The last three days of camp are packed with activity. Merit badges have to be awarded, competitions held and goodbyes said. There is unfinished personal business to complete, and there are campsites to close. A few new developments manage to find their way into the story. Paul, the stopwatch partner, tries to trick Julian. His friend Doug had reported on Julian’s extraordinary oral ability, and he is lying in wait. Alex Trent, also in the Lynx patrol, gets a big surprise.

Danny, still substituting for an injured player, makes a winning goal in water polo and becomes an instant camp star.

Julian’s fascination with the curmudgeonly Camp Ranger continues. He and Sarge develop a special relationship.

Tom and Nick provide a spectacular finale for Freddy’s Shooting Gallery.

Julian does a large size portrait of Mark.

Geoff convalesces during the day, allowing his injured foot to heal. He is determined to make his late night visit to the scoutmaster’s cabin. He re-injures himself in the attempt.

48939.png

1   Before breakfast

Mark turned onto his right side again… if only the birds would move to the far end of the meadow; then I might stand a chance of getting a few more minutes. He hadn’t slept well; he had a lot on his mind. During the night his dreams had been frequent and unusually troublesome. Usually he slept straight through, no problem. That’s twice this week I’ve had dreams about Erik. Why on earth is that back? I haven’t been bothered by that for years—two years, at least. Admittedly, the first three years were bad—a nightmare every night, or so it seemed. Gradually, my job and scouts were able to keep me occupied and squared away… and Pat helped some. Things have been going great… best ever… so why?

I could go for a run… he usually did when he woke up early. For some reason, he preferred to stay put. It was comfy and he didn’t want to work up a sweat. He glanced at the clock—not enough time for a very good run anyway. Where was I? Trying to grab another thirty winks. He closed his eyes.

His mind was not cooperating. You’re not over it after all, are you? Generally, Mark was not introspective: but something inside him was stirring, demanding attention. Every time he thought it was taken care of, it popped up again and shoved aside whatever else he was thinking about—or trying to think about.

Movement a few inches away made his eyes focus: a small fly was walking along the outer edge of the bed. ‘What are you looking for?’ Mark puckered his lips and directed a puff of air. The fly took off at once and flew out of view. It was one of those silent types. He had never studied insects. He was inclined to let them be as long as they weren’t being a nuisance.

Mark’s attention returned to his internal musing… something was bothering him, and he couldn’t get a hold on it. The trouble is, he had no one he could go to—no one to confide in. His personal life had always been more private than most, of necessity. His life with Erik was only just beginning when Erik was killed. Mark had never included anyone or shared his secret life, because he had no need to. It was an instant love, programmed by the gods or something. For two years he was in heaven on earth. Then, pfft . . . it was ended by some fluke mechanical failure on a late night flight to Boston.

The only person that he could talk to was Pat. She was a lifesaver, for sure, in many ways. But her role was limited. She would never replace Erik—that was never her goal anyway. She had made it possible to carry on what seemed to be a normal life; family, friends, the workplace—she has been the shield, the armor, the dressing on my heart wounds—more than she knows. But she was not a replacement for his lost loved one. The pain was less now, but the vacancy remained.

I have to get a grip here… I’ve got a troop of scouts to look out for. I don’t have time for this. Mark was never inclined to baby himself anyway. Hard work and focus had always been the best defense—it will be now. It’s unfortunate that Julian had to be told—last night he awoke and had to be given an explanation of some kind of why I had gone missing for a while. I’m glad I was honest with him, at least. Mark was never able to fabricate a story anyway—never developed the skill.

Julian hadn’t pressed for any details—he seemed to comprehend. Unlikely, but that’s what I felt. The image of Julian’s tears flashed into view. I felt so supported, so validated by that. Julian has a way about him—he looks the child, but he’s way ahead in personal growth—it’s like his artistic gift. You never expect it but when you see the product you are amazed and humbled by its quality. Mark marveled at the sheer luck of it—his reason for inviting Julian to stay in the cabin was to shield him. As far as he could tell, that was wise; but Julian had proven to be a good choice for himself as well.

Mmmm. Julian hummed as he awakened. He yawned and stretched… the Sun is up already—daylight is peeking through the split in the curtain.

Mark raised up on his right elbow and looked across. Good morning.

Mmmm. Julian was so comfy. I had a nice dream, I think.

Oh?

How come they go away so fast sometimes? The minute I wake up, poof! It was a happy one. All I can remember is that Danny and Sid were in it, and we were at the lake. That’s all. And it was happy. Julian rubbed Mr. Sandman’s particles away from the corners of his eyes.

I can’t help you there. I’m glad it was happy, though. That must have been what was important, anyway.

Maybe Sid and I were cheering you guys on to a big victory, or something, Julian theorized. Maybe Danny was making a goal.

I’ll hope for that. Mark looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes before the alarm.

Good. No hurry to get up… Julian turned onto his back and locked his fingers together… he started to plan his day. He was happy with the merit badges. It looks like I’ll get them both. I have a few too many drawings to finish. Hmm. I’m forgetting something. It will come to me in a minute. I want to be with Mark now for a little. He closed his eyes. After the little talk last night, it was important to be here, standing by—just in case. Keeping Mark company was important; Julian didn’t know why… he didn’t stop to think about it. Besides, he had a few imaginary scenarios that he enjoyed running from time to time… he liked to refine them occasionally so that when the time came he’d be ready. And, since Mark is awake, there’s no worry about that blasted alarm clock going off like it did on Monday.

Mark watched Julian relax and settle in for a last minute doze. What a wonderful picture… dreaming about our water polo game. So was I a while ago. His thoughts returned to the issues at hand… the Flaming Arrow patrol in particular. He followed Julian’s lead and lay back under the quilt. The air temperature was early morning brisk.

I feel a little guilty about Tom… I haven’t found time for that one-on-one chat I promised. This afternoon is my last open block of time, but Tom has another commitment of some kind. He was sort of vague about it… probably not an approved activity. He should play while he has the chance, I suppose; I expect this is his last camp. The win yesterday was sweet for him. If we can do that again today, his water polo career will have ended very nicely. We can have the chat next week, or later in the summer. So, I offered to help out at the archery range again. I’ve developed a minor interest in that. I don’t know why.

Danny’s news last night about Geoff’s mishap was a surprise. It’s unfortunate that he was injured, of course, but Mark wasn’t sorry to learn he was out of commission. He’d let that sleeping dog lie, actually. Geoff dropped out of sight, and I put him out of mind. Maybe I was mistaken after all; after that impromptu close order drill lesson on Monday, Mark was afraid that Geoff might try to follow up somehow. Mark had taken care to be fully occupied and surrounded by scouts ever since. Maybe I didn’t need to worry about an encounter after all. Now he’s on crutches—unable to do much of anything. So, that’s settled.

But now, I’m uneasy about Danny… I’m not quite sure. He’s been showing some troublesome signs. Was Danny a little too attentive? Sometimes he seemed to be. Mark couldn’t point to any specifics. He just had a sense, in the last couple of days, that the admiration a leader engenders had been replaced by something stronger. Hero worship wasn’t entirely plausible. I don’t sense a crush, either, though. I’ll have to be alert. Especially now that he’s a part of the water polo team. Of course, that will be over today.

And there’s Nick—talk about solid! His shoes will be hard to fill… he has another year though; Julian will be ready to take over by then… He has been an outstanding mentor. Nick is one person I never have to worry about. He has certainly shaped Tom up… Mark yawned sleepily. Better not nod off… too soon to get up, though…

Julian turned on his right side—his observation side. It was more comfy than being on his back, for one thing… for another, he could squint his eyes and sneak peeks of Mark. He waited for a minute, just in case Mark might be looking this way… ah. He’s thinking about stuff, too. That made sense. Mark always has everything well planned and figured. That’s probably what he’s doing right now.

Julian remembered the short conversation with Mark during the night. I sure wish I knew more… but I know enough. I know what counts, I think. Mark had a love one time and he died. Mark still loves him. That makes me love him even more. Someday it will be me.

Julian knew this—he had known it for a long time. What he had learned this week was that he wasn’t ready to take on the job. What he learned last night was very important. He hadn’t sorted it out completely, but he knew that one day Mark would be free. My job is to be there and be ready. That means not doing anything stupid in the meantime.

You’re darn lucky you found that out.

His inner partner made wise guy comments like that all the time.

Well, it’s true, isn’t it?

Yeah… have to admit that… only last night I was trying to figure a way to crawl into bed with him. That would have been a terrible mistake. I would have wrecked everything. Mark would have put on his Scout hat—for good, probably. Not only that, I wouldn’t have found out about… hum… I wonder what his name was.

Click!

Big Ben had just given the five second warning. Julian bolted out of the sleeping bag, but Mark was there before the count of two. They looked at each other and laughed.

Time to start the day.

48954.png

2   Inspecting again

Julian was on a roll this morning. This was his second day as chief inspector of the Troop Nine patrol camps. He had juggled the inspection order slightly just to make it more interesting. The camps were always neat and straight; ever since the thunderstorm they look so clean.

Up ahead he could see Mark and Tom standing by the Flaming Arrow table. Mark was gesturing wildly, like he was bashing one of those balls into the net. Julian shook his head and smiled… those guys are so funny! They were trying to plan how to win their big water polo game, but the wind kept wrecking their model. Mark stood up and hollered at the wind to let up for five minutes. They needed some pebbles or something instead of those paper triangles. They also needed his demerit free cussword.

Julian was on his way to inspect the last camp, the Lynx Patrol. From there he could go directly to the Flaming Arrow camp, finish up his report, and take off. He had already done the dishes all by himself so that Danny could work on water polo. As soon as I’m done with this, I’ll go down to HQ and finish the drawing of Geoff getting his foot bandaged. Mr. Jorgensen will like it better now that it’s on the large paper. I got a good start yesterday. This afternoon I’ll go to the lake and finish the Canoe drawing—oh: and start the First Aid merit badge sketch. Sid promised he’d hang around for that. Sid is so happy these days. He and Kurt are really hitting it off.

Wow, there’s Alex, sitting at the Lynx table. Hi. I like Alex. He’s always so cheerful. Sometime maybe I’ll get to know him better.

Hey, good to see ya. Alex looked up from his tablet. What’s up, these days?

I do the inspecting by myself now.

Congrats… Lemme know if ya need anything. Alex got back to his tablet. He wanted to get this squared away before his Reptile badge session. Tommy, his reptile buddy, was counting on this salamander chart to go with their essay. I should go over to the Badger camp, but I’m supposed to have this done by now. Fighting this breeze today is a pain.

Alex is busy. That’s okay; I can talk with him some other time, I have a full schedule today, anyway. Julian did the standard check—meaning, that since Gary is gone, everything is perfect: Gary is strict; he takes being patrol leader very seriously. He always inspects everything before leaving camp. Neither Danny or I can ever find a thing to mark down. Here goes: kitchen, looks okay—check. He stepped over to tent one: immaculate—check. Tent two looks fine—check. Tent three… oop! Tent three occupied by a scout in skivvies bending down and showing his butt to the outside world. That’s an amusing way to put it—too bad there isn’t room to write it up that way. The tent looks all squared away. He returned to the table.

Is it okay if I sit here for a second to fill this out?

Sure. Be my guest. I remember who this is now: the Scrapbook kid. Alex paused: it just hit him. What if I could talk him into making a few drawings for this? I’ll ask Tommy in class… that would really set this off from the other guys. Yeah. Those scrapbook drawings are cool. I bet he could draw a super alligator.

Julian sat down to fill out the grid. He just had a single sheet today, not the clipboard. I was stupid not to bring that; the wind keeps trying to blow the paper away. Holding it down and writing at the same time is tricky. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the guy from tent three walk over behind Alex. He glanced up to see who it was. I’ve seen him around… can’t think of his name. Ooo-oo! He has a morning problem… his stiffy hasn’t gone down yet. It makes a big point in front. Julian didn’t pay it any mind. He went back to his grid. The obnoxious breeze kept flipping his paper. He slid the tablet to the side so he could hold the sheet better. The breeze tried to turn its pages too.

Paul forced a sneeze. He wanted the kid to check him out, at least. Doug told him about this one’s amazing talent in the slurp department. I have to keep him here until Alex takes off—usually Alex is gone by now, darn it… he would pick today to hang around. So what if he gets an eyeful: maybe he’ll know to get the lead out next time. Besides, Alex is too pure for words anyway. Paul had been trying all camp to tempt him to play… nothing fazes him. He has a permanently limp dick or something.

The sneeze caused Julian to glance up. The guy is still standing there behind Alex. His cock is a little harder. Julian looked up to see his face. The guy smiled. Hmm… he’s well equipped. But, I need to get on with my schedule. I’m almost finished. He grabbed at the sheet… darn wind, anyway.

Paul was surprised. Why had Julian’s reaction to his ploy been so flat? Hmm. Probably because Alex is sitting right there. I’ll go a step farther… he made an adjustment in front—he made sure that his cock was partially visible in the front split. That will get a reaction. Now… while the kid’s looking down… quietly, he stepped around the table and stood behind Julian’s right side. Doug told me how this trick worked yesterday… I’ll pretend I’m looking at the tablet. I’ve been noticed, at least. He stood for a while, waiting to be re-discovered.

Alex watched Paul silently move around the table. Cripes. Look at that guy. Does he always have a boner? Sometimes it made him so horny to see that. Half the time he had to run down the hill to the latrine and take care of things. He felt himself begin to swell right now. I can see it so clearly… Paul only has skivvies on this time… yikes! It looks like it might come out. Alex was aghast. He had never seen it before, in the flesh… only the bulge. It looks so dark, in that white pocket… I can see at least an inch… it’s so big!

Julian looked up. The guy’s gone now. Good. He checked the tent. Not there. Hmm. Where did he go? He sensed that he was being watched. He looked back at Alex; he’s staring past my shoulder—a strange expression on his face… eyes wide. What could… oh. The guy must be standing behind me, and Alex is looking at… Drat! Julian grabbed the tablet before it blew off the table. The wind just flipped over a whole bunch of pages.

Can I see those? Paul bumped Julian in the back with the point of his tent.

Alex was astounded by what he had just seen. He started to swell. He’d never seen Paul be bold like this… man, his hard-on is huge. I can see part of the tip!

Sure. These are for the scrapbook. He passed the tablet without turning to check. Julian had seen Alex’s eyes go wide… he deduced what must have bumped him. He decided to ignore it—he had his day planned. He hunched over the grid sheet.

Thanks. Hmm. The kid can’t see from this angle… maybe the other side is better. Paul moved to Julian’s left and lifted his left foot onto the bench inches from Julian’s leg. He swayed back and forth subtly so that his mid section would be very close to Julian’s head. His balls barely skimmed over Julian’s shoulder. If the kid turns his head, he’ll see that he’s being invited. Mmm. My cock sure enjoys what I’m doing… He turned a page but didn’t look at it. He peered from behind to keep an eye on his little stratagem. It was essential to maintain an exact distance—when Julian turns to look, he’ll have to collide head on. Mmm . . . rocking back and forth is nice!

Alex was locked in place. He felt a strange burning sensation in his crotch… he was as hard as he had ever been—it verged on being painful. He needed to make an adjustment. He didn’t dare… it might be noticed. He watched this display as if it were a movie… if Paul twists to the left even a little, it might just pop out. He had never seen anyone else’s erection in the flesh—now I can see the upper two inches… it’s trying to escape out of the opening.

Alex looked at Julian’s face. The kid is embarrassed and doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do, either—how can I rescue him? Oh-oh… the tip presses right on the edge when he rocks forward! Is it going to come clear out?

Julian glanced at Alex again; he’s watching something—in his peripheral vision he could see a vague shape to his left moving forward and back. The guy wants me to look and see what he’s doing. Alex can’t help—he’s busy watching. The guy is standing so close that I can almost feel him. Any other day, I might be interested. But I have things to do. Hmm. He could see enough to know that if he turned his head he’d bump right into it.

He thought for a sec… Wait a minute. This is too strange. Why would this guy be doing this, anyway? It has to be on purpose… it came to him suddenly. This is too much like yesterday to be a coincidence. This must be Paul! I didn’t recognize him. Doug must have told him about yesterday. Well, now. I know just what to do about this… He looked at Alex and tried to signal that he was about to solve the problem. Alex’s expression is funny… does he want to trade places or something? Hmm. Julian wanted his contact to be solid and direct: he turned his head sharply and suddenly.

What do you think—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump you so hard. He gave a wink to Alex. Say, look at that! Julian reached up and pulled Paul’s cock free, giving it a slight stroke downward toward the base so that the head was completely exposed, along with the entire shaft. He looked up at Paul. He held it tight between his thumb and forefinger. Wow. Very nice. He gave it a slight pinch.

Alex’s jaw dropped wide open.

Paul was frozen. This was not what he had expected. The kid did have a good touch. I’ll bet Alex is about to fill his pants, though.

Mmm. You need to do something about this pretty soon, I think… better tuck him back in. Julian pulled the shorts forward and tucked the cock back inside completely, gently, giving the foreskin a downward pull to press the tip up toward the waistband. At least it’s not dripping yet… you have plenty of time. He lifted under Paul’s balls, as if he were weighing them. Aha! I thought so. He turned to Alex, confidentially. These prob’ly need draining again. Paul’s expression is fun.

Paul was holding his arms out in surprise—like featherless wings, about to flap. The tablet pages ruffling in the breeze accompanied the spectacle as if a snare drum was announcing something important.

I bet Alex could help you with this. He pushed in on the tip and forced it to pulse. Hmm. I think he wants to point up more. Julian grasped it firmly and guided it into an upright position by pulling down on the underpants, while pushing the cock against the tummy. He stroked it upward and pressed gently on the back of the head. The tip was visible above the waistband. He patted it with a slight rub.

There. That’s better, isn’t it? Julian examined it closely. Still no drip. He nodded at Paul. That’s the trouble with undies. He stood up and winked at Alex. They’re always in the way. He retrieved his notebook and stepped back. Thank you, guys. See you around. He tucked the inspection sheet into his tablet and walked toward the Flaming Arrow. A few feet away, he turned to look back. Have fun."

Alex and Paul looked after Julian in amazement. They looked at each other, and blushed. It took a moment for each of them to register what had happened.

Paul saw Alex’s blush as a positive. He dropped his foot and walked around the end of the table and stood right beside Alex. I’m through teasing this hottie. Well, Dudley Do-Right, you heard the man. So, whattaya say? Start with the fun already. Man that kid’s fingers really got me in the mood… He could feel that drip moving up the channel.

48963.png

3   Sarge and Julian

Sarge stood in the shadows and watched Julian at work. He didn’t have long to indulge himself—the lunch crew was due in before very long. In all his years here, no scout had gotten past his guard and pierced his grungy armor. This boy had. The surprise visit with John yesterday before lunch still haunted him. The boy saw right through his gruff façade. This is the grandson he had always wanted. According to John, he’s a very talented boy. Sarge was glad of that, but what mattered to him was the boy’s amazing charm and engaging smile. The boy seemed to like him instantly. The old goat games he always played with the scouts were pointless with this one. They bounced right off.

John brought him down yesterday to find some large sheets of paper. He ended up spending half his pre route time giving the boy a tour, a lecture about the camp and its history, his job, and a helping of art supplies left over from a program held a long time back—must be seven, eight years, anyway. He barely had time left to get ready for the afternoon’s work. He spent the rest of the day remembering all the great times he’d had here. This boy had made him realize what a privilege it was to have this job. He felt bad for letting that fact get lost along the way. I’ll find a way to make up for that.

This is the only boy who has ever wanted to feel my grubby whiskers. That’s what did it—the boy was genuinely fascinated by them. It was as if my old chin was a marvel of the world, or something. That smile and look of wonder melted him at once. When he was grabbed by the hand and pulled over to tell about all the racks of things in storage, it was as if he was an old family friend. Sarge had never felt so light and happy about life in general, he didn’t think. This kid had swept the crust off his ornery old brain; his outlook was fresh. He wanted to whistle something… he had no tune handy… he hadn’t whistled in years.

I have to go over and see what this lad is up to. I wasn’t going to do that, but now I just have to. Then I can get back to work.

Good morning, Boy…

Oh, hi! Julian smiled brightly at the sight of Sarge. Thanks to you, I can make a lot nicer job of this! He leaned back so Sarge could look over and see his drawing of the medic treating the cut on Geoff’s foot. Maybe he’ll have a suggestion.

Sarge was stunned. The likenesses were uncanny. Harold never looked this good in real life, probably. John would have to be pleased too. What can I say about this?

This is Geoff yesterday. I was just doing the detail on his foot. Julian tilted his head. Something wasn’t just right yet, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Looks real good, Boy. He felt like a total clod. The boy is in another league and doesn’t know it.

Thanks, Sarge. Julian gazed at him fondly. Is Sarge your real name? It sounded like a nickname, like in the movies.

I guess it is, now. I’ve been called that for so long, it’s almost the only name I know. It had never mattered much, what he was called.

Do you like it? Julian wanted to know what his real name was.

It’s all right. I used to be in the Infantry. I was a Sergeant. It stuck with me after. He thought about his real name.