I wasn’t strapped in when I woke up, that much I remember. I know I thought Dad’s room was kinda small, but there was a door on one side. I figured it was his bathroom. I wanted to look around, since I’d never seen his room before. He was there by the time I got to the door. There wasn’t anything in it but a big bed, a closet door, the other door, and a lamp.

I got up and stretched, that I remember.

“Oh, no,” I groaned. I was wearing a very wet diaper, and some of slip-on white canvas shoes. ‘Old man shoes,’ we called them.

“Take this, Landen,” he told me, and he gave me a little orange pill, and a white one, with a glass of water. He had to hold my arm going downstairs so I could clean up, I was wobbly like I’d had a hard workout. I tried to tell him, but all I got out was something that made him laugh. I guess my mouth wasn’t working.

“You’re stoned!” He laughed at me. “Don’t try much of anything today, son. You’re going to stay tranquilized. You’ve had an awful shock, and it’s going to take some time to get over it.”

I thought it was a bad dream when I finally remembered it.

I did figure out the shoes, though. The window was blown out in the bathroom. He put the shoes on all of us so we wouldn’t cut our feet. I should have been pretty freaked out again, I mean, my house just blew up, but I really didn’t care.

Dad was holding me up in the shower downstairs, and when he got me patted dry, he fixed my hair and put my shoes back on. Then some more gel for my scorched front, face, and all. He put the ring-stopper thing back on my dick so I couldn’t pee. I still couldn’t feel anything down there either. But the dick-plug was better than a diaper, when gave me the choice. I guess if my mouth and legs didn’t wanna work, my bladder wouldn’t either. I tried to ask him, but he just laughed at me. I guess he figured it out.

“You tell Daddy if you have to pee, OK, Landen?”

“Ooo’s Wan-dun?” I asked him. I yawned. “Fwyr’aww’ow’?”

“’Fire all out?’” Dad asked me. Canyon was there, too, laughing.

“FIRE!” I yelled. I guess my head cleared a little bit.

“The fire’s all put out, Landen,” Dad told me, and Canyon steadied me. My legs still didn’t want to work too good, and I leaned on the sink and looked in the mirror.

“Wow,” I mumbled. Canyon and me looked almost identical now.

“You like the hair color, Landen?” Canyon asked me.

“Huh?”

“We’re really twins now!” He laughed. “Well, almost!”

I tried to say my name was Ben. Benny. Canyon said I sounded like Elmer Fudd got drunk. I knew I should be upset. I mean, my house had blown up, burned down, and my mom was…gone.

Then again, the TV dinners and needles all got blowed up, too.

But I just didn’t really care, you know? Must have been the pills.

I was still staring in the mirror when they guided me out of the bathroom.

I made it to the table, and was really hungry. Dad gave me iced tea instead of water. I was eating something when I heard a man talking: “How is he?”

I looked around. “Bub,” I said.

“’Bob’,” he told me. “You OK, Landen?”

I just nodded. I guess I kept nodding until Jeffie stopped me by grabbing my head.

“You look like a bobble-head dashboard dog!” Jeffie laughed.

“’ow cuhhhm yooo cawd me Wan-duhn?” I said. I tried to say “How come you called me Landen?” – but it wouldn’t come out right.

Bob hugged me. “Don’t you worry, boy. We put this house together real good when your daddy moved in! That wall took the blast and just singed the bricks some. Oh, Martin?” Bob was saying, “Still no sign of the guttering, but they found your fence, most of it, over in the Wilsons’ yard. You wanna put it back up?”

“I think we’ll move it over, since the lot will be empty now,” Dad said. That much I remembered. “We’ll have a nice, big yard for the boys to play in now. That’ll be nice, won’t it, Landen?”

I nodded at him. I didn’t realize then how much grass I’d have to cut.

“Landen, that bush burned down,” Dad told me, and that got me to laughing again. Geeez, I hated that bush!

“All burned up,” I slurred it out. One of my shoes fell off. Bob put it back on.

“You keep those on until we have all the glass cleaned up, OK?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Be a run on windows today!” Bob laughed. “We’ll sell out!”

“Father,” Canyon was saying, and I looked out the patio door. The glass was broke, but the screen was still there. “The pool’s full of trash and debris!”

“Well, why don’t you and Jeffie go and clean it out?” Dad said, “Instead of the usual workout?”

“Father! They’ll see us! The fence is history!” Canyon said, standing there naked and making a face.

“Right,” Dad told him. “I guess you’ll have to wear something. It’s a bit cloudy, so maybe you won’t get a white butt if you wear a Speedo for one day?”

“I suppose, sir,” Canyon sighed. “But it’s a menace, you know. Pinches me!”

“Keep your shoes on and get to it,” Dad told them. “Landen, you finish eating and just sit there, all right? Bob and I don’t want you hurting yourself while we clean up.”

“OK.”

Dad and Bob started cleaning up the mess. They had a vacuum that could have sucked up an elephant, I think. I just sat there at the table looking at the stack of pictures of me and Canyon from the ruined frames, and listening to the broken glass being sucked up. Before, we’d looked kinda the same, but different. But now we looked so much alike that poor old Mrs. Smith thought I was my brother!

There was a newspaper on the table, too, so I picked that up.

“Wook, iz mee!” I said, waving it around, but they didn’t hear me.

On the front page was 3 pictures: Me, Scott, and one of a house on fire.

My house.

I read that paper again later on, when I wasn’t so doped up. I kept it for my scrapbook, too. (Dad liked pictures, you know.) Here’s what it said:

“They all think it was Canyon last night,” I mumbled. I laughed at that, too. Heck, everything was funny. Even me knowing where Scott was, was funny. It was even funny that they all thought I was dead, too!

Maybe I was? I even had a new name.

THAT was why they were calling me ‘Landen’ – Dad had said to Joe that ‘Ben Pence died tonight.”

I liked my new name. I laughed about it and blew tea out my nose.

The vacuum shut off.

“Landen, are you tired?” Dad asked me, nodding. I nodded back. He helped me into the living room, put me in his recliner with him, and turned the TV on. He put a tape in, but I don’t remember what it was. We cuddled up to watch it while Bob went on inspecting the house and making notes. It was some action movie with a lot of car chases. I must have went to sleep, because when I woke up, Canyon and Jeffie were coming in to wash up and take a nap. Dad was still holding me in the recliner, and he gave me another little white pill. That I remember better, since the tranquilizer was wearing off.

“You need to move around some, Landen,” Dad told me, after the boys got done telling me how bad it was outside. “Do you – want to see it?” Dad asked.

I nodded.

I had to see it.

Dad had me put Canyon’s black Speedo on, and I saw that Dad had got dressed to go out somewhere. Sure, the fence was gone. We didn’t want Mrs. Smith to have a stroke!

The water in the pool was still dirty, but the filters would clean it up eventually. The fence was gone, I mean really gone, and the grass was all burned black up to where the fence had been. The hedge at the back end was all crispy and half dead, too. The Smiths’ house had black plastic covering that side of it, and my house?

Well, it was gone.

All there was, was a black pile of rubble with yellow tape all around it. There were some people digging around in it, too. One of them looked up, saw me, and waved. He came over to talk to Dad. It was a fireman. “You’re a hero, Canyon!” He told me. I just smiled at him and nodded while he shook my hand. It was still funny, and Dad’s hand was really tight on my shoulder. Then he told dad, “I don’t think we’re going to find anything. Faulty shut off valve, that’d be my guess. Everything’s just melted and burned up…GONE!” He waved his hands around. “The thing had to have been leaking gas into the house for days. Good thing the power was off. A light coming on would have made her blow! I can’t believe your place held up so well?”

“Well,” Dad told him, “You see, it IS brick, and there are no windows on that side, save for a few upstairs. They’ve all blown in, of course, the roof may have taken a bit of damage there,” He pointed, “But I’m sure it’s nothing that Bob can’t find someone to fix?”

“Pity about the boy, sir. I’m sorry,” the fireman said. “Just awful.”

“Yes,” Dad nodded, “If I’d just kept him a moment longer…”

“Oh, I don’t think he’d have survived the blast and flashfire when it went, if he’d been outside,” the fireman shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault, sir. Just bad timing on when he was supposed to come home.” Then he patted my head. “We just might give YOU a medal, son! You must be doing something right in raising him, sir!”

Dad smiled. I was laughing again when Mrs. Smith came bustling over with a tray of cupcakes. “Martin,” she was saying, “I want that Bob fellow to come over and look at my house when he’s done with yours! We can’t live in a plastic bag all summer long, you know, and the hotel won’t let Kitty in! Can you imagine the nerve?”

(Keep in mind, Mrs. Smith was like 200 years old.)

Dad winked at me, so I ate a cupcake while they talked. I almost choked when Mrs. Smith asked why she’d never seen me…rather, Canyon…outside before.

“Oh, Canyon has some disabilities,” Dad tapped his own forehead. “Meeting new people upsets him. The move here was so jarring for him, that he took to his bed for the first month in melancholy. Leaving all his old friends behind, you see, his old school, everything he knew, and coming to a new country.”

“You don’t talk much, do you, boy?” Mrs. Smith asked me.

I shook my head. My mouth was full – how was I supposed to talk? Senile old lady…

“Now I don’t want to see any skinny dipping going on, while the fence is down!” Mrs. Smith was rambling. “You know, I recall this one time back in 1919, it was just after the big war, and the big flu, you see.” She blushed some, “I used to be quite a dish, you know, and…”

We were trapped.

Mrs. Smith was in high gear.

There was nothing to do for it but eat cupcakes and nod.

“MARTIN! PHONE!” Bob yelled out the patio door, something like 6 months later.

Thank God for Bob!

(OK, yeah, I was suspecting it. How could you not? I might have been stoned on drugs, and not even sure of my own name, but since I was between doses, I was remembering Bob and Bobbie tinkering with the AC and the gas main. And I remembered the plastic tubing.
Plastic melts.
Yeah, I was thinking that Bob had rigged my house to blow up.
But I sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything.)

Dad had me, now. ‘Benjamin Daniel Pence’ was in the obituaries in the paper. You know how that feels to read your own obit in the paper?! My new name was now ‘Landen’, and it sure looked like I was going to be living with my dad and my brother for a long time.

Just like Tyrone was going to be living with Mr. Thomas?

“I saw you were trapped,” Bob laughed, when we’d escaped her. I had a chill. But I didn’t feel trapped. Not anymore.

“That fence is going back up as soon as Leon gets me the deed,” Dad said. “In fact, why wait? Boys, we’re building a fence tomorrow, so you can all pay for eating that plate of cupcakes!”

“Father,” Canyon yawned, “Why are getting up early? It’s not free time yet?” He blinked. “Oh, cupcakes! May we?”

Dad looked at the clock and nodded. “So much for today’s schedule.” He shrugged. “But tomorrow, you’re going to work this off!”

“Cupcakes!” Jeffie yelled.

“Dad, I gotta pee!” I said. Or I tried to. He got the idea when I started dancing on the spot.

So we didn’t do much the rest of the evening. We watched TV. We had some dinner, and finished the cupcakes. There wasn’t any messing around, and I was still numb down there. Bob stayed for dinner, then headed over to the Smiths’.

Dr. Kent came by around bathtime with Mr. Anwar, and I guess my drugs were wearing off again, because I remember them checking me out. Dr. Kent laughed about the nerve block shots, and then he got all serious on me after looking at my numb dick up close. He even ran a pointy little wheel thing over it, and I couldn’t feel it.

“Landen, your father tells me you’ve asked about the surgery?”

“Yes, shir?”

OK, maybe I wasn’t totally sober?

“I tend to agree that tightening up your circumcision is probably the best bet for starters. How about this?” He told me, “We wait, and I’ll keep a close eye on you for signs of puberty. If it starts to look like you’re over those shots you were on, we can either put you back on them, or by then, if it’s long enough, you can spend that time thinking about having surgery like your brother? Then maybe we can do it? I just don’t run around castrating little boys who think it’ll look cool, you know?”

“OK!” I said.

Mr. Anwar smiled at me. Him and Dad were whispering about something.

“Keep some burn gel on him, Martin. Any other signs of trauma? How’s he holding up so far?” Dr. Kent asked Dad.

“The tranquilizers are keeping him calm. In fact, he’s laughed a lot today. I think he cried the worst of it out last night,” Dad said.

“I’d like him to have at least one more day of rest,” Dr. Kent said. Dad didn’t look thrilled at that idea. “At the very least, go easy on him! You can’t just toss him back into the routine after such an ordeal!”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Dad gave in. “Less exercise, and he can resume his studies.”

“12 hours of sleep tonight,” Dr. Kent told us.

Looked like I was going to get to sleep in again for Tuesday.

“Keep him hydrated, of course, and wean him off the drugs SLOWLY, after the dosage tonight,” Dr. Kent added. “In the meantime, how’s our other patient?”

Mr. Anwar looked up at the doctor.

“Resting in the usual place, watching TV when he’s coherent, which isn’t often. I think he’ll be fine in a few more days, after a few more treatments.”

“Let’s go and see the boy, shall we?” Mr. Anwar asked.

I tried to remember what they were doing with Scott, but I was yawning again. I guess my pill was going to work. Dad carried me down to the basement, and I went to sleep in the tub after my enema. I woke up for a minute when Dad put me to bed with him, and that was it until Tuesday morning.

I didn’t have bad dreams either; I didn’t have ANY dreams.

Dad got me up around 10, I had a quick breakfast, and my head was clear enough for study time. I got another couple pills, but they didn’t hit me so hard. We were still studying Spain, and it looked like Jeffie had had some of Dad’s classes before. I wondered what I’d missed with the morning workout, but I did remember that Jeffie was supposed to be learning how to protect himself. He had a couple of bruises, I mean, not big ones like he’d been beat up, but I guessed he’d had his first lesson.

I didn’t like the idea of him and Canyon fighting. I hoped I didn’t have to learn.

After lunch, Dad told us that Bob would be coming to help start putting the new fence up. Mrs. Smith came over to make sure they got the line right. I wondered how bad it would mess her up to see the 2 of us at once, in different places? We all had a laugh about that, but Dad told me to make sure that DIDN’T happen!

Since I wasn’t so stoned with the lower dose pills, I got to help unload the truck when Bob and Bobbie showed up. I guess Bobbie knew how to drive? There was a LOT of wood, too. Me and Canyon took turns hiding, and that black Speedo was annoying as hell. He was right – it pinched me. I had to wear my work boots, too, since there was still bits and pieces of my old house in the yard.

Joe showed up to help later, and he smoothed things over with the guys still picking through the rubble. Since we didn’t have any relatives, Mr. Fred had already told them that there weren’t going to be any lawsuits. The gas company guy heard that from Joe, and he was GONE. When Mr. Leon showed up with papers about the property, Dad took a break and signed them. I thought it all happened awfully fast when the other guys digging in the rubble left, too. Joe just laughed and patted my butt.

“It pays to have connections, Landen, and your daddy is VERY well connected! So how do you like your new name?”

“I like it, sir,” I told him. I mean, everybody was calling me that, so what if I didn’t like it? There probably wasn’t anything I could do about it.

Then I thought of something. “Are you related to Mr. Leon, sir?”

“No, ‘Jones’ is a very common name,” Mr. Leon said.

“Oh.”

Bob and Bobbie were pretty quick with their diggers, and by 4, we had a row of posts put in. We worked right through naptime, too, and I didn’t even notice it. I figure they were trying to keep my mind off what had happened, but like I told Dad, it didn’t bother me all that much. He told me he was proud of me, and that made me feel good.

OK, sure I missed Mom. But I’d just got everything I’d been begging for on Sunday night handed to me. I had a dad, a little brother, and I was going to stay with them. Canyon’s schedule wasn’t that bad, and I was going to get in shape. I was thinking about how my brother looked again when Bob had us start sorting out boards. With the posts all in place, it didn’t take long to put them up. The men held them, while me and Jeffie, or Canyon and Jeffie, put the screws in with power drills. That was fun!

The only complication was when Scott’s dad showed up.

I was inside making shakes when I looked out and saw him.

Dad just towered over him, Mr. Simonson was so short. OK, he was probably 5-5, if he was lucky. But I guess the sound of power tools from down the road was too much for him to resist. Since the patio door was open, I could hear them if I listened hard.

“…Missus won’t let Evan out of the house…took it pretty good…”

“Oh?”

“…first thing he asked, kinda worries me, was if he could have his brother’s room if you don’t find him,” he was telling Joe.

“Typical boys,” Dad telling him.

Hell, I KNEW Evan wouldn’t miss Scott. That was one thing that bugged me about him – Scott treated Evan like crap. Evan was probably thinking ‘good riddance.’

But there he was – in our yard.

All I had to do was yell.

I could give him his son back.

And I didn’t.

I wasn’t about to.

Scott wasn’t worth it.

“Shame about Ben,” Mr. S. was saying. “You know, Martin, YOUR boy looks SO much like him it’s uncanny.”

“Well, they say everyone has a twin,” Dad told him, when Mrs. Smith interrupted them again. There she was, with a platter full of cookies. Dad groaned, but he was nice to her.

“Now you cut that plank at the bottom so Kitty won’t have to climb over,” she was telling them.

She wanted a kitty-door in our fence? OK…well, it made sense, since Kitty went out ‘catting around’ all night. I figured I’d better tell him that Kitty had a habit of pooping in the flower bed.

Canyon came in and we traded places. I took a shake for Jeffie out. Mr. S. didn’t recognize me. Then again, with my hair colored and cut like my brother’s, and the fake freckles on my face, why would he? We even had matching earrings, and our collars were similar. I figured it was a good thing Dad had took the padlocks off! That might have made them look twice. And since I didn’t have Canyon’s slight accent, I stayed quiet.

We had the fence done by dinnertime, and Bob and Bobbie stayed. Mr. Anwar came by, too. Dad wrote Bob a check, and the sum almost made me faint! I guess wood wasn’t cheap? I was glad to get out of that Speedo, though. I hated that thing! We all had a good laugh about me and Canyon fooling them all, but the dinner conversation was pretty serious.

“I’m sure it helped take his mind off of it, having something to build,” Bob was saying.

“Yes, I hate to do it to him,” Dad said, but by then, my next pill was hitting me. I was tired again, even though I hadn’t done all that much but rip packaging and drive screws. “But Scottie knows too much.”

“How’s he doing?” Bob asked.

We boys cleared the dishes and started washing them while they talked.

“He’s still catatonic, Dr. Kent has seen to that. He’s not in any pain, that’s for certain,” Dad said.

“You said he was almost 13?” Mr. Anwar asked. “He seems to have begun developing some muscle tone, as well as other things?”

“Kent’s got him shot full of stuff to counter that,” Dad said. He sighed. “I’ve never had to do this before, gentlemen. Always before, the boy WANTED to come. Always before, he was better off.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Martin,” Mr. Anwar said, “But with his build, and his short stature – you saw his father? I’m sure we can make something of him. He should work out just fine.”

Canyon nudged me in the ribs and shook his head at me. He held a finger up to his lips. I got it.

“But he won’t agree to it?” Bob said. “He’ll want to go home when he wakes up.”

“That depends on what he remembers – or THINKS he remembers – when we bring him out of conditioning,” Dad said.

I thought about those flashing lights. And didn’t Canyon tell me once they’d used them on me, ‘to settle me down’? What did it matter, though? Scott was a jerk, and when I finally started getting everything I wanted, he tried to ruin it for me by calling Mom. I snorted. As far as I was concerned, he could STAY in that little room forever. I hated it that his parents were so upset, but they had another kid – and Evan would be better off, too. I figured that Dad would sort it out so Scott would be, too. I mean, heck, he already had a record and Joe had kicked him out of the mall. Scott would probably end up in baby-jail before it was over, anyway. So what was the harm? It wasn’t like Dad was down there whipping him to death?

I remembered my spanking and shivered.

Man, I didn’t want one of those again.

“Landen?” Dad said, and I almost dropped a plate.

“Sir?”

“You have something to add?”

“Sir?”

“You made a noise,” Dad told me. “And he was your friend. I think it’s time you told Daddy what you really think about Scott.”

Canyon and Jeffie just looked at me.

Was Dad leaving it all up to me, what to do with Scott?

“W-well, sir, he blew it once already. I thought…I thought he’d like it, you know, but he didn’t.” The more I thought about it, the madder I got. “We can’t send him home, but like, we can’t dump him in the river either.”

“MARTIN?!” Mr. Anwar sounded surprised, “What HAVE you been telling that boy?”

Dad grinned. “He’s a sneaky one, all right. I think he’s got plans for Scottie?”

“Find him a new home, since we can’t keep him,” I shrugged. “Dad, you said there’s always somebody?”

“But he is male,” Mr. Anwar told Dad.

They looked at me, and I don’t know where it came from. Maybe it was because I was thinking about what I wanted – thinking about how Canyon looked – how we looked so much alike that we could fool people.

“So have Dr. Kent castrate him, sir,” I said.

“Landen!” Canyon looked at me like I’d just murdered Kitty or something. Then he looked at Dad. “Sorry! Took me by surprise, sir!”

“No harm done,” Dad smiled at him. “I have to admit, I am a bit taken myself. Landen, we can’t do that!”

“Why not, sir?” I asked, “Mr. Anwar is sitting right there, you said he couldn’t have me, and if he wants a boy, there’s one down there!” I pointed at the floor. “Dope him up and get him to agree to it!”

“Martin, you may be raising a monster,” Bob laughed.

“I seem to be nursing a viper in Rome’s bosom,” Dad said. “Landen, do you know what you’re suggesting?”

“Evan gets his room, and WE don’t go to jail,” I shrugged again. “Sir! I didn’t think he’d tell, and I was wrong. It’s my fault you guys had to do all this stuff, but unless you just…fry his whole brain or something…he’ll tell again!” I was getting upset by then. Dad got up. “Mr. Anwar’s right here, sir, and he wants a boy, doesn’t he? Since Ali’s too old and has too much work to do?”

“He IS a sharp one, Martin,” Mr. Anwar smiled. “Pity you wouldn’t let me have HIM!”

“Tyrone sure looked happy,” I said, “And I know I am, Dad!” I was almost crying by then. “And if something happens, what happens to ME? To Canyon?” I was shaking by then. I wanted to just go down there and punch Scott. “I don’t have anywhere else to go! They’ll put me in Blanken!”

Dad came and hugged me, and I lost it again.

“Landen,” he told me, “LANDEN! If anything happens to me, you’ll have a home, son. I have that taken care of. I’ve always had it taken care of. Mr. Frederick has all the legal documents for you boys now. Listen to me!” He gave me a little shake, “Look at me!” I did that. “Do you think all of Daddy’s friends would just let them take you away? Do you think Joe or Bob or Dr. Kent is that stupid? If someone took you away, and you talked, what would happen to them and all of your little playmates? Kim, Henry, Tyrone, Jeffie? It’s all taken care of, son. Trust Daddy, all right?”

I nodded on his shoulder. I couldn’t stop crying.

“Son, Daddy loves you,” He told me. He held me out and wiped my face. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, EVER again, that’s a promise! And have pity on the fool who tries!”

I guess I knew it for sure then.

Mom had pissed him off big time, and he’d got her for it.

I didn’t ask, though. I couldn’t ask. I was so afraid of ruining it all, like I’d almost done by having Scott come over. I looked at everybody at the table, just watching me. I felt stupid.

“I love you too, Daddy,” I cried.

“Well, now that’s settled,” Dad said, and he put me back down. “We have 3 very dirty, smelly little boys here who need baths!”

A bath sounded really good, too.

Now that I was over my little attack, I asked Dad about Scott. I knew where he was, but I wanted to see him. I wanted to hit him, really.

“You know where he is, son,” Dad told me.

Bob and Bobbie had to leave, because they had a lot of work to do in the morning. Mr. Anwar came down to the basement with us.

Scott was still in the warm little side room. He looked asleep, and he was still strapped down tight to his little bed in a sit-up position. He had headphones on, a red ball gag thing in his mouth with a tube coming out of it, and an IV in his arm. I guessed it was so he could get a drink if he sucked on the gag. He had a catheter in his dick, and he was blindfolded.

“What’s he listening to, sir?” I asked.

“Instructions,” Dad told me. “Telling him things. He’s very open to suggestion right now. He’s conscious, but he can’t see or move, and all he can hear is what we want him to hear.”

I wondered about that.

OK, I’m not stupid. I figured they’d done that to me at night, too. Why else the blindfold and headphones? But I was happy, wasn’t I? Yeah, I was – and Scott just wanted to ruin it for me.

“Tell him he’ll like being castrated, sir,” I shrugged, and it was suddenly funny.

“You know, I think he’ll work out perfectly,” Mr. Anwar said, looking Scott over like he was a piece of meat. “He’s not all that far along, and he is short-stature. Blond, pretty eyes, you told me?”

Dad nodded.

“You could always take him and breed him, then, sir,” I shrugged. “That might work. He can have girls to do it with, and make you all the boys you want.”

“LANDEN!” Dad yelled, and he looked upset. His eyes were pretty wide.

Canyon was laughing.

“Dad we KNOW where babies come from,” I said.

“Martin, this boy is a genius, I tell you!” Mr. Anwar said. “Do you realize how much I can make from…”

Dad stepped on his foot.

“A quarter-a-pop, sir?” I asked.

Maybe I went too far with that line.

Canyon gasped. “BROTHER!” He yelled.

OK, I don’t know why I was risking getting in trouble or spanked again. But I was mad. I was mad at Scott, and if I’d had a knife, I’d have cut his balls off myself. I’d have got a ruler and measured HIS dick, and cut it back to 2” so I could make fun of HIM!

Mr. Anwar’s brain was working, though. It was like a cartoon character with a light bulb over his head. He smiled at me.

“Just as long as I get commission,” I said.

Dad looked sick.

“Landen, bath, now!” He told me.

I didn’t hear him say it, but Canyon told me a LONG time later what Dad said to Mr. Anwar:

“Maybe our Benny really IS dead?”