All I know is I was put to bed. Dad changed my bandages, and figured Dr. Kent would take the stitches out soon. The swelling was down, mostly, and my dick sure looked different. Jeffie was right – it reminded me of Frankenstein. That got my mind off the other stuff, but everyone else was getting ready to go home when I finally got settled down. I was embarrassed again, but they all told me it was OK.

The only thing was that Dr. Kent asked if Henry could spend the night.

What were we, a daycare center?

Then again, they were going to do something with Scott, and I figured Henry would need something to do. Dad decided I could wait to try out my new bed in my new room, so Jeffie and Henry got put to bed in there.

Dad knew I was upset about something, and I figured I better tell him before he found out and I got in trouble for it. He guessed kinda right – it was about Scott, but it was about me, too.

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Mr. Anwar’s going to take Scott home with him to Arabia, ain’t he?”

“’Isn’t he’,” Dad said, “And yes, he is. JIMMIE will be very happy with him. Mr. Anwar spoils all his boys, almost as badly as he spoils his own biological children.”

“He has KIDS?” I was surprised. I mean, like I said, out of every one of Dad’s friends, only he had ever had kids, that I knew about. Or even looked at girls.

“Well of course he does!” Dad told me, while Canyon just sat on the edge of his bed listening. “He has 182 wives!”

“18, sir,” Canyon reminded him, laughing. “I think he has, what, a dozen sons, Father?”

“Something like that,” Dad nodded. “Now, Landen, what’s bothering you? Tell Daddy all about it.”

I just came right out and said it. I had to know.

“Mr. Anwar wanted to buy ME, didn’t he, sir?” I asked.

Dad looked at Canyon.

“Yes, he did, son,” Dad told me. “And I refused.” He rubbed his head, like he was getting a headache. “You figured that out, too?”

I nodded. I was scared and shaking again. I knew I probably shouldn’t ask, but I HAD to know.

“Landen, you MUST learn to trust me, completely, and not get yourself so worked up about things that do not concern you,” he told me. “Scott – Jimmie – if you will, is a huge threat. We can’t be sure what he’ll say or do, or how he’ll even BE when he’s fully conscious again.” He stopped and hugged me. “You don’t have a thing to worry about son, and I know what else you’re thinking.”

I looked at him. Of course he knew. He always did.

“You’re wondering how it took me 12 years to find you, and even if I AM your father? You’re wondering about the story of your mother and I, even though you’ve seen the yearbook?”

I nodded. I had to. It was true. I thought about saying ‘no’, but I couldn’t.

Dad sighed. Canyon came to sit by me and put his arm around me.

“It wasn’t easy tracking her down, son,” Dad explained it, “She gave you her name, of course, not mine. But in all honesty, I did NOT know if you were the right boy, or if she was the RIGHT ‘Lois’. I had to use all sorts of channels to find her, but since her specialty was pharmacology, that helped. And to think, she came HERE?” Dad looked around. “And since we were moving anyway, we decided to try and find you. It was really out of curiosity, you see. I always wondered how my other son had turned out. In fact, until Dr. Kent did your blood tests, we weren’t even 100% certain that you were the right boy.”

“Wh-what if I wasn’t?” I had to ask. “Would you have still, you know…?” I looked at Canyon. “Invited me over, and…and…?” I couldn’t say it. I wanted to say ‘kept me.’

“I always like to get to know my neighbors, Landen,” Dad said, “Well, maybe not Mrs. Smith!” He laughed, “And I can tell you this – even if you hadn’t been my long-lost son, Canyon’s twin, I would not have changed a thing. Canyon would still have invited you over, and then he would have taken it from there. But any boy being treated as badly as you were? Yes, son, I would have made arrangements to keep you. There is no excuse for treating a boy like you were being treated. I would have kept you, and found you a new home.”

He looked mad. And he wasn’t done.

“Lois refused all my offers once she found out she was pregnant, Landen. I finally had to resort to offering her money, just to keep her from aborting the both of you. I offered to take you both, and even now, I have no idea why she wanted to keep one of you. I just wish she’d taken my offer, son. Your life would have been so different.”

At least that much was true, then, if the pictures weren’t enough – he really was my Dad. That was a relief to know.

If she hadn’t kept ME, I’d already be just like Canyon, I knew – circumcised, castrated, smart…and having sex with men since I was…how old?

I didn’t know.

But I knew my life was different – now. 12 years later, and it was really different!

“So how come she never acted like she even KNEW you, when you moved in?” I asked him.

“I have no idea, son. But I have all the documents, if you’d like to see them?” He asked.

“No, no, that’s OK,” I mumbled. Trust.

I had to trust him.

“You’re still upset over the fire, I know,” Dad said, “And you have every right to be. I hardly remember my mother, Landen, but I do remember I cried when she was gone. I was very little, you see. It has to be hard for a boy to lose his mum.”

I couldn’t ask about Bob and the gas line. I just couldn’t.

But there was one more thing I had to know.

“D-Dad? What did they find in the fire? The paper says Joe said there wasn’t much left of me?”

“You remember that ceramics artist I told you about? The one who made Canyon’s angel?” I nodded. “Some animal bone, some ceramic, a few fillings from one of Dr. Kent’s friends, and viola! Instant fake-Benny-skull! And of course, Joe made sure that they didn’t look at it TOO closely!” Dad laughed.

“Oh!”

“It was genius, actually!” Canyon laughed. “And you’re legally ‘Landen Jacin Poore’ now!”

“Just as you should have been 12 years ago,” Dad sighed, and kissed me. He shook his finger at me. “Never, EVER have a one-night fling with a woman!” He warned us.

“I don’t think I have to worry, Father!” Canyon grinned. “I’m not much good to a girl, now, am I?”

“Only if you decide on the shots later, son,” Dad told him. “That much is totally up to you. Just as it is for you, Landen.”

“I won’t get them pregnant, though!” Canyon laughed.

How could he laugh about that? He was a eunuch; he couldn’t have kids. What if he wanted kids later, and not adopted ones?

…or not ones he’d…taken…?

Would Canyon and me grow up, and do the same thing? ‘Rescue’ abused boys?

“Dad?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“If…if I wasn’t your son, if you picked the wrong boy, would you have sold ME to Mr. Anwar? That’s your job, isn’t it? Finding boys to trade?”

There, I’d said it.

Come what might, I’d said it.

I had to know.

Him being quiet and thinking was awful.

I figured I wouldn’t have a butt left once he got done with me now.

“He was right, you ARE a genius,” Dad sighed again. “Yes, son, if you had just been some other boy, and not Canyon’s brother, it would be you heading for Arabia in a few days, and not Jimmie.”

My stomach rolled over. I thought I was going to puke.

“But you can thank your brother,” Dad added, “He seemed to know right from the start who you were. He sensed it, I’m sure. After all, you spent 9 months together in the same womb!”

I guess it was Canyon’s turn to cry then. That news upset him as much as it did me, I think.

But all this time, CANYON wasn’t sure? Was that it? Or was I imagining it?

“I KNEW it was you, Landen! I just knew when I pulled you over the fence that first day! And even if I’d been wrong, well, you’d still be better off, what?” He was crying. “And I just love having new playmates! You can’t imagine how excited I was to find out you were really, REALLY my brother!”

I didn’t get it. This was upsetting him more than me, and I’d just found out that my long-lost dad was a ‘boy-trader’. That was how he made his living – kidnapping boys and selling them.

But sure not for a quarter.

I figured it was $250,000 – a quarter-million – each.

I mean, SHIT! What if he got caught? Now wonder we had to get rid of Scott!

And I remembered Canyon’s story about the boy in England, the one they hadn’t grabbed in time. The one who’d got shot. I thought about Tyrone. Still, Scott didn’t have it that bad at home.

Scott was the problem.

But Mr. Anwar was going to solve it for us.

With Mr. Anwar’s help, Dad wouldn’t have to do something he didn’t want to do.

“You remember this, and remember it well, son,” Dad told me in that ‘ordering voice’, and we both sat up when he did. Canyon was still sniffling, and hanging onto me like I was going to fall off the bed or something. “I have NEVER, and WILL never, take a boy who would not be better off. We took an awful chance on your friend Scott, because YOU thought we could trust him. And what did he do? He called your mother. That is the first rule – never take a boy who won’t be better off. The second is this – if an error is made, correct it at once – by any means necessary!”

“S-Scott was m-my fault,” I was crying again.

“In a way, yes,” Dad nodded, “But in a way, no. I trusted in you, son. You were wrong. But just as Canyon trusted in you, at first, HE could have been wrong. And then where would we be?”

“Sh-shipping me to Arabia in a box?” I sniffled.

“Right,” Dad said in that flat voice he used when he talked about Mrs. Smith and her desserts.

“That is precisely why you were observed for almost 2 months, Landen. Canyon can be quite the little sneak when he has to be.” Dad tapped my collar. “And these little bugs are marvelous things! They fit almost anywhere!”

“B-but, how?” I asked, more interested than upset now. “No one saw you? Canyon never came out?”

“Canyon, open the window,” Dad told him, “It’s unlocked so Bob can replace it tomorrow.”

Canyon pulled the shutters open. The glass had fell out, and when he did, I could still smell scrochy-ness.

“Think of where your window used to be,” Dad told me. “Got it?” I nodded. “Hold on,” he said, and went to his room. He came back with a little polished rock, one of those decoration things. He gave it to Canyon.

He threw it.

Right into where my window would have been.

“Good thing you didn’t have screens, huh?” Dad asked.

Come to think of it, mom always did get mad if I opened my window.

“That, and your back door to the utility room doesn’t always lock right,” Canyon said.

“You were IN the house?” I gasped.

“’course I was! I had to check it out, now, didn’t I?” Canyon smiled. “I bet you thought it was Kitty all the while?” He laughed. “I got to wear this black ninja costume, too!”

I had to say yes. I caught Kitty in the kitchen one night when I didn’t get the patio door shut right. Good thing Mom never knew that!

“Time for bed,” Dad told us, and he put my little blanket-tent on me and strapped me in. He kissed me goodnight, and I wanted to hug him again, hang onto him – but I couldn’t. “I think you can sleep in here tonight. Daddy has things to work on. I love you, son,” he told me.

“I love you, too, Dad,” I said.

And I did.

For as weird as everything was, where things were going, I loved him.

“Landen, know this,” Dad told me. “Even if you hadn’t been my son, we’d still have taken you after all that research. But,” he paused, and put his hand on my chest, “I think I would have been very, very hesitant to have let you go again!”

“’I’ would have said no,” Canyon told me, when he kissed me goodnight.

Then he put the headphones on me. Dad got him into bed, and when he closed the door, the lights came on. They flashed, and I was so glad it wasn’t dark. I was back in my bed, but I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to at least look over at my brother, but the light was so pretty…

Then the music started. One of my new records.

Not much else happened that week until Mr. Anwar came back with Dr. Kent. I got my stitches out, and I had some feeling back by then. I didn’t like that, either – have stitches taken out of my dick! It was…weird. I could feel them coming out, and I got hard. When I did, the skin was so tight I thought it would tear open! It was so smooth and made my dickhead look bigger!

But my dick was healing up really good, Dr. Kent said, and he said I could go swimming again. I wasn’t sure what day it was, but I decided not to ask why they’d waited to get Scott shipped off. I’d asked enough questions already. I was afraid to push it. So it was back to the routine, but I wasn’t into self-defense lessons yet. Dad didn’t wanna risk me messing up my healing, or get hit in the balls or something.

“Not that I have to worry about THAT!” Canyon would just laugh. The way he kidded about it, it was like being castrated was no big deal.

Jeffie went home for 4 days that week, since Joe was on a 4-on, 4-off schedule. Henry spent a few more nights, but I never got much out of him. I didn’t ask him a lot, but he just said that him and his folks had been in a shelter for a while, and one day, they were gone and he was still there. He got sick, and Dr. Kent had come to see him.

“They just left me,” Henry told me. “Then we moved here. I had to go to the hospital, and then Daddy – Dr. Kent – took me home from there.”

Heck, Henry was so quiet it was easy to forget he was even around. He worked out just as hard as we did, though, and when I finally got permission to mess around, he did too.

“Do NOT touch your penis!” Dad warned me. “If you tear anything, it’ll be a month with bandages and a catheter!” He warned me.

I got off with the dildo that night, and I almost passed out, I got so worked up! I was so hard, I thought if I was gonna tear, but I didn’t.

OK, yeah, I missed it. I might have been on drugs, not in puberty like Scott was, but I was still wanting to do it so bad it was making me nuts!

And I still had no idea what the doctor and Mr. Anwar were up to, but I thought he’d want to get back home before long. I kinda figured it out when they came upstairs, talking about it, one night when we’d just got up from our nap.

“What Landen said WAS genius,” Mr. Anwar was saying, “And I never would have thought of it! Kent, if this works like that baby on the news, with it frozen? And how long will it be good? I could have it both ways, then!”

“Well, it’s expensive, not that YOU care…OH!” Dr. Kent shut up then, “Is it past 6 already?”

We all 3 nodded at him.

I saw that Mr. Anwar had a hard case of some kind, and it was steaming. He told us goodnight really fast, and left.

Dad came up next, and I just about shit myself when I saw that he was carrying Scott!

“Boys, Jimmie is finally awake,” Dad told us, nodding at Canyon and Henry, who went in the kitchen. “He’s going to watch some TV, have something to eat with us at dinner, and try and move around some. Aren’t you, Jimmie?”

Scott just looked at us. His eyes were glassy. He was naked, and there was a bag strapped to his leg hooked to his catheter.

He still had all his stuff, except that his dick – still bigger than mine – looked about the same. He was healing up good, too. He had a big collar around his neck, and it looked like a black thing they put on you after a wreck so you couldn’t move your head. There were pale red marks on his forehead, too, between his eyes and ears.

“Say hello, Jimmie,” Dad told him, when he put him down on the mat.

“Hello,” Scott said.

“S-Jimmie?” I asked him.

“Who…who’r yooo?” He asked me.

Dad shook his head at me.

“Your friend,” I said. “Jason. Jay-son?” I said it slow, and Dad nodded. Fast thinking. I didn’t think he wanted me to say my name or Canyon’s.

“I…I hurt my head,” Scott said, like it was funny.

“It’s OK,” I told him. “Doctor will fix it.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m hungry.”

I didn’t think Scott had a clue what was going on. I don’t know what they’d done to him, or if it was drugs, but he was just out of it.

“Jimmie?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna watch TV?”

Dad was nodding. I picked up the remote, big and chunky like it was, and turned the TV on. Scott stared at the red LED on it. Dad came and put a tape in the VCR.

It was a porno.

One of the older boy and younger eunuch ones.

Scott just stared at it.

“Look’it dat boy!” He pointed, but his hand was shaky.

“What?” I asked him.

“He’s got no balls!” Scott grinned. “You got balls?”

“Yeah.”

Scott watched the tape for an hour. It got me hard, but it came and went. I was squirming on my plug when it was over, and I saw that Scott was hard, too. He never touched it, either.

And he didn’t say a thing about the movie. He just watched it and hardly even blinked.

“Wha’s yur name?” He asked me again.

“Jay-son.”

“Did you know B-Ben, my friend?” Scott asked. I shook my head. “I…I think he died. He said,” he pointed at dad, “his house burned?”

Dad nodded.

“It did, Jimmie. I’m sorry.”

Dad gave me the newspaper to show him, but it had been clipped. There was nothing about Scott being kidnapped I it.

Scott started to cry. “Ben died,” he got it out after a while. I hugged him and told him he was lucky it wasn’t him. He just cried.

When he quit, blew his nose and Dad wiped his face with a wet dishtowel, he said, “I wuz in de’hos-pi-tell for a long time. You know?”

“Yeah?”

Scott nodded. “Car hit us.” He started crying again. Dad came and told me to go in the kitchen with Canyon. I saw some light out the corner of my eye, and I looked away. I knew what he was doing. There was a red strobe light on. I looked at Canyon.

“He’s just calmin’ him down,” Canyon said.

Henry was setting the table and didn’t say a thing.

Dad was helping Scott walk in, and got him sat down. He was pretty weak, but he’d been in bed for like 2 weeks now, I think. I didn’t even know what day it was, but it had to be close to July, I think? Every now and then I’d hear firecrackers outside.

“I’m hungry,” Scott said it again. He looked at Canyon. Dad nodded at the door. I went in the living room and peeked in. “Who’r you?” He asked Henry.

Scott didn’t know him, I thought, so Henry said hi.

“Can I go home?” Scott was asking.

Canyon sneaked my plate in for me, then went back to the table. Scott sure was hungry!

“You’re lucky to find a new family at your age, Jimmie,” Dad told him. “Most people want babies, or little kids. You’re very lucky that you’re being placed in care so soon. You get to go where it’s always summer, sunshine, plenty to do, outside a lot. And no cars running all over. Won’t that be nice?”

Scott grinned. “Yeah!”

Man, what had they done – took part of his brain out? This wasn’t Scott at ALL!

“My dick hurts,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“The doctor will fix it,” Dad told him.

“My balls hurt too,” Scott said.

“He can fix that, too, if you like, Jimmie?”

“OK.” Scott nodded

Canyon slipped in and I went to the table. I got a look at Scott’s bits. He was a little pink around where they hooked onto his body, and there was like a little bit of sunburn around the tip behind his dickhead.

“Jimmie, does it hurt to get hard?” Dad asked.

Scott nodded. But he kept eating.

“Butt feels funny,” he said. “Can I go home now?”

“Tomorrow,” Dad told him. “Once you get a bath, get some exercise, and move around some. When you wake up, you’ll be at your new home. Won’t that be nice?”

“Yeah,” Scott smiled.

Dr. Kent came back that night, and Scott was glad to see him. He kept asking if he could go home, and asking about me.

About Ben.

He asked Dr. Kent if I died, and he cried again. We never let him see us together, me and Canyon, and he kept calling me “Jason,” finally. I only had to tell him like 6 times.

We got cleaned out, as usual, and it was nice to have a hot bath again. No bandages, no being careful. I just couldn’t play with it, and I wanted to touch it so bad, see what it felt like. Dad said no.

That or a spanking.

I didn’t touch it!

Scott didn’t mind being cleaned up either, and he was yawning when Dr. Kent plugged him and told him it was time for bed. He didn’t even say a thing! He hugged us all goodnight, still had that dumb grin on his face, and went right to sleep!

Dr. Kent put his IV back in.

“Shouldn’t have given him that heavy meal, Martin,” he said. “We’ll have to clean him out good tomorrow afternoon for the late flight out.”

I didn’t ask what they did to him.

I was just glad he wasn’t like screaming to go home to his real family. I guess they brainwashed him into thinking a car had hit them and he was all alone now. He never said a word about his folks, or Evan.

I was sad that he was crying about ME, too.

I never knew he really liked me that much.

We got up at 8 the next day, and Dr. Kent and Mr. Anwar showed up at like 815. We all had breakfast, then Dr. Kent and Mr. A. went downstairs to see to Scott. I wondered why he didn’t get to eat, and I found out when Dad explained it.

“In order to get Jimmie out of the country without being caught,” Dad said, “He’ll be heavily sedated. He has to be very clean, inside and out, and packaged carefully. He’ll still have his catheter, an IV, and his plug to keep him from springing leaks and keep him hydrated.

He told us this while we were working out.

I had my weights back on, too; just 5 lbs., but still…

“Sir, what do you do, put him a coffin like a vampire?” I asked.

Dad laughed. That surprised me.

I wondered if they were down there castrating him right then. I didn’t think so – what if he bled out on the trip? No one would be with him.

It was another routine day: we worked out, ate, rested, worked out, had school, napped, and had dinner at 8. I still wasn’t allowed to touch myself, and it was hard keeping my hands off of it! But the idea of getting spanked kept me from it. Trust me, it KEPT me from it!

When it was time for a bath, we went downstairs and I got to see how they planned to ship Scott out:

It wasn’t a coffin, but it was a long box. It was marked with labels, like it had been all over the world, and it was nice wood. It had some marks, but it wasn’t just a dirty old crate either. The big label on the lid said something a museum in Egypt and mummies and delicate stuff, handle with care, climate control, and all that rot – like Canyon called it.

Inside, there was like a cutout in some kind of soft stuff in the shape of a body – a boy-sized body. I imagined ME laying in there, and I shivered. Dad put his arms around me.

“He’ll be padded, and kept immobile,” Dad explained it, while Dr. Kent and Mr. A. loaded Scott in. He was already asleep, and he was wrapped up like a mummy, too! There were tubes coming out of him here and there.

“He’s heavily sedated, and the IV will keep him that way. The catheter will take care of his peeing, and the plug in his butt will be connected to a large tube leading to a drain tank under him to catch anything else that might be coming out. He hasn’t eaten all day, and he’s had some pretty strong laxatives and enemas. The tube you see in his nose leads to stomach, and a small pump will send a little juice and water into him every few hours. Another small pump will drive his IV, keeping him drugged. He’s wrapped to keep him warm, even though the crate is marked for climate control.”

Dr. Kent fitted an oxygen mask on his face, tight, after he put a ball gag with a hole in it in Scott’s mouth. He puts plugs in his ears, then taped his eyes shut. “He’ll have enough air for trip,” Dr. Kent said, “And if they x-ray him, they’ll think it’s a mummy en route back home.”

“Our connection at the airport has assured me that no one will mess with the crate,” Mr. Anwar said. “To do such might cause an international…ruckus? Is that the word?”

Dad and Dr. Kent laughed.

It was the perfect way to smuggle Scott out to America.

(OK, keep in mind, they didn’t have security like now, back then. An x-ray wasn’t that great, and a live boy would have looked like a box of bones. The crate was very convincing, too, and Mr. A. sure had the money to pull it off. And he had connections.

Just like Dad.

I figured they had them all over the world.)

Once Scott was all settled in, they went to put the lid on. I held up my hand. Dad nodded.

“Goodbye, buddy,” I whispered, and kissed Scott’s nose above the mask. It was the only spot I could reach.

They nailed the lid on.

It was the last time I would ever see him for 10 years.

Bobbie and Mickey came by when we were getting dried off. With them helping, Dad and the men got the box with Scott in it upstairs and put it in Dad’s van.

I found out later that Dr. Kent drove Mr. A. and Scott to the airport, then came back for his car.

Me and Canyon slept in the new room that night, and Dr. Kent took Henry with them. I didn’t know why, unless it was for a ‘field trip.’ Since Jeffie wasn’t there, it was just me and Canyon.

My music that night was some Euro choirboys from one of Dad’s records. I wondered, staring into the black of my blindfold, if any of them were castrated or not.

I figured some were.

I never asked if they’d castrated Scott, or were going to use him to breed with. I cried a little bit, but Scott was gone.

I was safe.

Canyon was safe.

And I figured there was no way Mr. A. was going to get caught. I bet he’d done it before, and he’d do it again.

Besides, Scott – Jimmie – was going to be spoiled rotten, Dad said.

I wondered about Ali, the boy I thought he was replacing.