Lost and Found
by Jack Kendle
Part 2
Chapter 12
I woke the next morning after an unbroken and dreamless sleep. I felt more refreshed than I had for a long time. I had taken a cold shower before I went to bed the night before which had done the trick; my cock and balls had shriveled up and driven away any urgent need for release. Now, I stretched luxuriously; I had flung Hannah's pillows on to the floor last night and utilized the whole double bed. Flinging back the duvet, I got up to relieve myself and take a shower, hot this time. In the bathroom, I surveyed my reflection in the full-length mirror. Though no Adonis, I still had my figure, although I was concerned by the slight paunch which seemed to be developing. I would have to cut down on scotch and try and eat more sensibly. I had to keep my body in good condition now I had someone I wanted to share it with! I still looked young for my age, some graying around the temples, but that didn't worry me. My flaccid uncut cock hung down a respectable six inches or so and the balls behind were loose I their sac. On an impulse, I lathered up my pubic bush and trimmed the hair with my razor. I cupped each testicle and gently shaved each orb, until they felt as smooth as Leo's. My cock twitched as I thought of the young blond boy. I looked again in the mirror at my handiwork. Trimming the hair and shaving my balls seemed to make my cock look even bigger. I wasn't complaining! Finishing my ablutions, I went downstairs to fix myself some breakfast. The 'phone rang. It was JJ.
'Missed you so much last night, Jack. I hope you behaved yourself!'
"Of course I did!" I said, "...except for one or two things..." I then told him about Leo and Daniel's visit. JJ just laughed.
'Poor you! How on earth did you manage to control yourself?'
"It was hard, I can tell you," I laughed. Turning serious, I then related Rosie's and my talk. JJ was silent for such a long while, I thought we had been disconnected.
'No. I'm still here' he said in reply to my question.
'So, it's got this far has it?'
"Yeah. I can't turn back now, JJ. I'm going to have to face the music now."
'Well, it was going to happen anyway but this means you have added pressure. When does Hannah get back?"
I told him about her change of plans and her 'business trip' to Paris.
More time with me, then,' said JJ.
"My thoughts exactly," I replied. "I can't wait, JJ. I'm at boiling-point!"
Just a few more hours, my sweet. Then..."He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air and there was a short silence as we both envisaged what we would be doing.
"Gotta go," I said, "otherwise all this celibacy will have been for nothing! I'm hard as hell again!"
I heard JJ's sexy laugh .
'Okay Jack. Take a cold shower!'
"I did already, yesterday evening!"
You are in a bad way! Come over say, around six.'
"Right, JJ. 'Til then." I sent him a couple of kisses.
'See ya lover!'
I put the receiver down. Just a few more hours! Then I would be in the arms of a man! JJ! My first full homosexual encounter since university. I tried to remember the sensations, wondering how making love with JJ would feel, what we would do together. I must admit I was a little nervous, but I trusted JJ implicitly and I knew we would have great sex. With him, I would do anything. I gently patted my hardening cock: "Soon, now - be patient!" I said to myself. I picked up the mail and newspaper and went into the kitchen for breakfast.
I glanced through the post. Bills mostly, or junk mail. One caught my eye. It was a local postmark, my name, which was misspelt and the address were typed. It looked unremarkable enough, probably some local charity sending a request for donations or something. I opened it. It was neatly printed but what greeted my eye made me feel sick.
NO WONDER YORE BITCH WIFE IS SCREWING AROUND. I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE UP TO WITH YOUNG BOYS FILTHY PEDERAST.
YOU SHOULD BE CASTRATED.
WHAT WOULD YORE KIDDY'S SAY?
I stared at the page; the neatly printed words filling my horrified gaze. The implications were enormous. I had been found out. Not only that, but a stranger was confirming my suspicions about Hannah. The mention of my kids chilled me to the marrow. How was this possible? Who could possibly know? Had one or other of the boys, JJ or Susan, inadvertently let slip something they shouldn't? I felt dizzy and my hands trembled. This illiterate, anonymous sender had just turned my life upside down. No, much more than that, my life was over. If I took the letter to the police, which is what I should do, then there would be all sorts of awkward questions about my relations with teen boys. It would come out that Leo and Daniel were two of my students; they would be interviewed. The whole sickening scenario played before my eyes. I couldn't take the letter to the police. So what could I do? Ignore it? Hope it would go away? There was little chance of that. How long would it be before I had another letter? Or Hannah? What if someone managed to talk to Tommy or Emma, what then? I struggled to my feet as a wave of nausea overcame me. I ran to the sink and retched.
Who could have done this? How much did this monster really know, or was he, or she, guessing? The letter lay on the kitchen table, its mute accusation filling me with fear. I saw my whole life come tumbling down. What if someone got hold of Hannah? Whoever it was must know our telephone numbers; we were not ex-directory, not even our mobile 'phones. It would be so easy. My hopes of a divorce on my terms would vanish down the tubes. I would be crucified.
Someone, perhaps even someone I knew, hated me so much, was so outraged they wanted to destroy me. I scoured my brains to try and think of anyone it could possibly be. One of the parents at the music school? I couldn't think of a single one. I knew all the parents of the kids in my orchestra. They were all good, kind people, always willing to help if we needed to raise money for a school trip or lend a hand setting out chairs at concerts. I couldn't believe it was any of them.
Perhaps it was someone who had seen Leo and Daniel come to my house and drawn their own conclusions? I tried to recall our closest neighbours. The people either side of us were folk Hannah and I had known since we bought the house; retired, nice, always asking after the children, offering to watch the house and water the plants when we went on holiday. It couldn't be either of them, could it? I tried to remember other neighbours across the street. I recalled a family who had moved in last spring; they seemed nice enough. A couple with two or three kids, all boys. I had sometimes seen them playing football in the street. They weren't particular friends with Tommy, I recalled, but that didn't strike me as odd; Tommy had a wide circle of friends. I wasn't even sure that he didn't know one or more of them. Whoever it was, they knew enough about me and my family to be able to threaten me.
I went over to the table, snatched up the poisonous letter, crumpled it up and flung it into the sink. I found some matches and set light to it. Watching it burn, I knew that wasn't the solution. There would be others, I was sure. I was sick to my stomach. Everything was unwinding before me. I didn't know how I could ever find out who it was who was twisted enough to do this to me and my family. The blue smoke from the charred paper snaked upwards. If only it were that easy to get rid of the problem. I would from now on be in constant fear, forever looking over my shoulder; worried about the next post, any telephone call. Wondering whether this monster would contact Hannah direct. I turned on the tap and flushed the brittle black burnt remains down the sink. I couldn't talk to JJ; he would be coaching and I had to get to school for the rehearsal. I would try and chat with Jacob later on. I now felt like a marked man. I felt as if I had Pederastprinted on my forehead. How could everyone not know now that I had got this letter? I went out to the car. One of my next door neighbours, Mrs Biddy, was outside sweeping up leaves.
"Good morning, Jack," she cheerily called. I could hardly reply. I felt sure that if I turned to face her, she would see the mark of Cain on me.
"Hannah gone away?" The question was innocent enough.
"Yes," I replied, as I busied myself pretending to have difficulty unlocking the car.
"Well, if you need a hand with your little ones..."
"No, thank you, Mrs Biddy. It's fine. My mother-in-law has taken them to the country. Half term."
"Ah, that's nice," came the homely reply. "You're busy these days!" she added.
I must have panicked. Anything she said, however innocent seemed to me to sound as though my life was being lived in a goldfish bowl. No secrets from anyone.
"Well, you know... lots to do." I mumbled as I got the car door open.
"Take care, dear!" called the elderly lady as I reversed rather too quickly out of the drive. I heard a shout and slammed on the brakes. One of the boys from over the road, the eldest, I think, was standing right behind the car. I hadn't seen him. He was playing with a football. I saw his father start out from the house opposite. I rolled down the window.
"That's a silly place to play. You might have got hurt!" I called sharply, the panic I felt giving my voice an extra edge of anger.
"Well it is if you drive like Ralph Schumacher!" It was the boy's father. The boy didn't even stop bouncing the damn football. He just stared at me like I was a retard.
"Oy, Billy! Move out the way so the gen'lman can test-drive his wheels!"
I mumbled an apology, asking if the lad had been hurt. He just grinned and loped away, kicking the ball ahead of him.
"He shouldn't be playing in the road," I said, the panic over and righteous indignation coming out instead.
"It's a residential street," observed the other man. "We don't expect people to do a ton down here."
The man seemed less worried about his son than he did about my driving skills.
"I just didn't see him," I replied.
"Well, he ain't the invisible man," laughed my neighbour. I didn't like the tone in his voice. "Thinking of something else were you? Late for something?" He lowered his voice, "Hangover maybe?" I began to remonstrate, but he cut me off, raising his voice again. " You know my boys are always playing out here. You should be more careful."
"Okay, okay," I replied. I had had enough. "I'm sorry. I'm not hungover by the way. It was a simple mistake. I expect I should have been more careful."
"Slower too," said the man.
"Right." I shifted gears and started to drive away.
"Don't want to end up killing anyone do you now?" called the man after me.
I was trembling as I drove slowly away. I passed the boy, who was still dribbling his ball down the road. I glanced in my rear-view mirror to see him give me the finger. Farther down, beyond him, his father was smiling away, obviously approving of his offspring's rudeness. I was sweating. Was that man the one who had sent me the letter? How would I ever know? He certainly seemed a nasty piece of work. I thought I recognised the boy from somewhere. Then it struck me. The boy was in football kit and heading in the direction of the playing-fields. He must be going to soccer practice, where Tommy would have been, had he not been in the country. I wondered if he was one of the boys terrorising Carl and that Tommy had confronted. My heart beat a little faster. It could have been! The man over the road could well be the writer of that evil letter. He had a good view of the house; if he was spying on me, he would know about Leo and Daniel's visits, JJ and even when Hannah came home late. It all fitted! But how the hell could I be sure? I racked my brains trying to remember the man's name. He had introduced himself and his family when we bumped into them as they moved in earlier this year. What was it? Then it came to me. Higgins, Jack Higgins. He owned a car-repair place somewhere in town and sold used cars. Shifty bloke, I thought. But was he the letter-writer? Something about the letter didn't ring true though. The message was burned into my brain. I could never forget it. Bitch wife ... filthy pervert ... castrated ...The words tumbled about in my head. I felt as a man condemned, not knowing when the axe would fall. All I knew was that the axe must fall. I was desperately scared. But what could I do? I had to carry on. I had a rehearsal to do, I had to face the world, my students, perhaps the very person who had done this cruel thing. Who the hell was it? I needed to talk to JJ, but I had to wait until later today. Until then, I had to get on with my life and appear as if nothing had happened.
I arrived at school, my nerves in shreds. Most of the orchestra was already there. Because of this morning's events, I was running late. Curious eyes followed me as I made my way to the conductor's stand.
"Sorry I'm late," I said. Leo and Daniel were both in their seats. I saw their worried looks. I must look guilty as hell, I thought. I didn't seem to be able to cover up my feelings very well.
"Let's sort out the order of programme," I announced. I went through the list of the pieces we would be taking with us on the trip to Germany: Britten's "Simple Symphony", Barber's "Adagio" for strings, a couple of movements from the Tchaikovsky "Serenade", my own piece, excerpts from Corigliano's film-score "The Red Violin" and as I announced the next piece, there was a stir in the orchestra.
"We'll also include a wonderful piece by one of our members, a duet for two violins by Leo Nielsen." Leo blushed as the kids in the orchestra all began talking at once. I looked over at the two boys. Daniel looked proud for his boyfriend and Leo was smiling as other members of the group congratulated him.
"Right, settle down, kids. Lots to do and very little time to do it in!" We spent the rest of the morning going over the programme. By the end of the session, we were all exhausted, but the orchestra was sounding good. By the time we played in Germany, it would be excellent. I was very pleased with 'my' kids and told them so. They all positively beamed with pleasure. I knew they would do their best, not just for me, but for the sheer enjoyment of doing something challenging and doing it well.
"Tuesday evening," I called out as I ended the rehearsal. "And this time next week we'll be in Germany!" There was excited chatter at this. I wish I could have found the same enthusiasm as the young people, but this morning's letter had put paid to any enjoyment or satisfaction I could ever feel. My thoughts went back to it and it's perpetrator. As I packed away my music, Leo and Daniel came up to me.
"Jack, what's the matter?" asked Leo, his eyes clouded over with concern. "You've been sort of distant. Is everything all right?"
I couldn't tell the boys about this morning's shock. It was best they were kept in the dark. Heaven knows what would happen if or rather whenthe shit hit the fan.
"Nothing Leo. Really. Just a bit tired, I suppose."
"It's not about JJ, is it?" asked Daniel.
"No, Daniel. Everything's fine between JJ and me. Don't you worry yourselves, boys." I changed the subject. "So, Leo, it seems everyone is looking forward to hearing your piece." The blond teen blushed again and lowered his exquisitely long lashes over his sapphire-blue eyes.
"Spoze," he said. "Thank you Jack. Do you think they, I mean the orchestra will 'get' what the piece is about?"
"Well, if you mean deepest love, then I can't see how they won't 'get' it," I replied.
"But whether they twig that it's about 'the love that dare not speak it's name,' then I couldn't say. It's enough that you two know it, isn't it?"
"I guess," replied Leo. "But it would be a cool way of coming out, no?"
"I'm not so sure about that, Leo. Don't rush into things. You'll both find the right time to announce your real feelings for each other. Now, you will be speaking to your parents this weekend? Don't procrastinate."
"You don't half use long words," laughed Daniel. "What does 'procrastinate' mean anyway?"
"It means to put off until tomorrow what you can do today." I replied, laughing with them. "Strike while the iron's hot. You understand that, I hope?"
"We're not totally thick," protested the two delicious boys. "We will 'strike while the rod's hot'!" Leo misquoted, bursting into gales of laughter.
"Get on with you," I laughed, shooing them out of the room.
I was on my own again and suddenly the darkness descended again.
Is this how my life would be? In perpetual fear of being exposed?
Alone in the now silent music room, I sat at my desk and wept. Wept from exhaustion, frustration and at the whole unfairness of it all. On the brink of finding true happiness, my life was about to be swept from beneath my feet. The bastard who had written that obscene letter was a sicko. They deserved to be hunted down and shot. I had to find out, somehow, who had done this vile thing. But how?
END OF PART II
