A LAD AN' HIS WONDERFUL LAMP

Chapter 1

Poverty and Power

The sun was unrelenting.

Moreover, it was searing, intense, oppressive, and blindingly bright.

In short, it was business as usual.

The sun is uncaring. It shines down on man, animal, vegetable and mineral. It does not care who it burns, boils, or roasts. It cares not that it causes visions of water, luring men out into the burning deserts only to be disappointed just before their brain roasts inside their head, causing insanity and death. It is pulled along on an orbit around a bigger, brighter, even hotter sun; that who knows, maybe is what we think of as God. As it moves around on its millions of years orbit it cares nothing for time. Day and night do not exist for it as it drags us along with it around the universe like a harried mother drags her kids around the supermarket. There is only fire, and one nuclear explosion after another.

Down on Earth, in a "bigger than a town but smaller than a city" town in the middle of the Mojave, none of the people who lived there could tell you any of this. They did not know.

The sun cared nothing about the time, but kept moving, moving around the space in its million-of-years dance. It could not tell you what year it was despite the fact that it mapped them out. And so, neither will I tell you what time it was.

However it was a time when the people in the arid town knew only that it was death to go out into the desert without proper supplies, stupid to go out in the middle of the day, and not to go out without your head covered and with a water pouch handy. The town that was not quite a city was called New Liberty.

New Liberty was ruled by the mayor who was called Jack Kinney. Jack had a son called Brian. They both loved each other very much and Jack treated Brian like a little Prince and as a result, Brian grew up rather spoiled.

Brian's mother, Joan, was dead. Joan had been Catholic, devout to the point of being a maniac. She was also kind of an alchie with a taste for only the communion wine so she went to Mass as often as possible. One Sunday, while walking on her way to church, she tripped on a pothole and fell, breaking her ankle Her bible and reading glasses fell nearby. Joan yelled for help but no one heard as everyone in the neighborhood was in church. They could not hear her over the dulcet tones of "Onward Christian Soldiers".

The congregation was just finishing up that hymn when Joan was reaching for her Bible for comfort. They started "Bringing in the Sheaves" just as the sun shone through her glasses at exactly the right way and set the thin pages of her Bible on fire. An arid wind blew burning paper over to her and set her thin dress on fire. By the time Bringing in the Sheaves was over, Joan was dead.

So that happened. Joan died and the church lost two members. Jack raised Brian by himself, spoiled him rotten and sheltered him carefully and cleverly in such a way that Brian didn't even know it was happening.

Brian had one friend, the son of his chief advisor. His name was Michael. Michael had green eyes and straight brown hair and passably boy next door good looks.

At 14, Brian had hazel eyes, messy on purpose brown hair and passably fuckable good looks. This did not go unnoticed by Jack. Jack knew he needed a plan so Brian wouldn't catch on about the sheltering but also so he wouldn't roam as horny, hormonal boys are wont to do.

So he set up a arranged playdate with the daughter of the mayor two towns over. A grown up play date. The daughter was Lindsay, fair of face, pale skin, blue eyes, blond hair. Typical Aryanlooks. Typical WASP behaviour. She wore her hair long and flowing down. She dressed in a wispy white dress and her eyes were wide and watery. She was beautiful. Or so she thought as Brian thought when he walked in the dining room. A banquet lunch had been set up. Michael was playing waiter in a snappy tux.

Brian looked everything over carefully. He smiled a wide smile, showing white and even teeth. He turned and slid the dining room doors shut. The smile was now feral.

A few hours later, Jack thought he'd better check up on everything and see how the young people were doing.

It was a good thing he did. Lindsay had been tied to her chair. Her soup bowl had been turned upside down and placed on her head like a hat. The soup had poured all over her flowing hair and wispy dress. New England clam chowder. Somehow a sign had been stuck to her and proclaimed in big childish letters: COOTIE FACTORY. Brian and Michael were gone.

They remained Gone, disappeared like a cat in heat with its mate until sunset.

The sun was half gone when they finally reappeared from the woods at the edge of the mayoral estate. They seemed very carefree and they marched toward the house, holding hands. They did. Jack saw. He saw from where he was waiting and watching from a second floor balcony.

In the middle of the yard was a huge, spreading magnolia tree. Brian stopped under it and slammed Michael up against it. In the rays of the dying day he framed his face and kissed the would be waiter deeply. Michael closed his eyes and it was clear he loved it. From this closer vantage point the peeping progenitor could see that they both had an aura of the freshly fucked.

It was at this moment that Jack thought that Brian just might be gay.

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Meanwhile on the other side of town, on the other side of the tracks there was a poor family living a poor life. They were the Taylors, Father Craig, Mother Jennifer and Son Justin. There was also a Daughter Molly but she had been sent to live with Jennifer's brother, Molly's uncle because they were too poor to keep them both and they wanted to keep Molly out of the foster system.

So there they all were, together Inken, Blinken and Spud. Uhhhhh...oh, sorry my mind wandered. Where was I?

Ahhh yes. The Taylors were poor. This was because Craig owned a small electronics store. This initself did not make them poor However the store was small, heavily mortgaged and they were in the middle of the Mojave. Why did this make them poor you may ask? You may but I may not answer. Now that we have that out of the way let me answer your question. It was hot. It was so hot the tar on the roads would often melt and be sticky. The same thing would happen to plastic and the innards of the electronics that Craig would try to sell. And so, it was a bit of buyer beware as anything you'd try to buy (or he to sell, if you prefer) you'd have to hustle it home the way a harried housewife might rush home a load of ice cream from the grocery store with the same result.

Added to this, an enterprising individual had started a solar powered power plant on the edge of town. This meant New Liberty was seeing a trend to a new liberty in power and a rising trend in DC power which meant plug ins were rapidly becoming obsolete. Electronics used plugins. Or rather they did.

Despite that, Craig struggled with his little mom and pop organization. Or rather pop and son organization as he tried to have Justin work at the store. But Justin would have none of it. Machines were not his calling. He would often blow off work to go swimming or work on watercolors paintings which was ironic seeing as where they lived.

And despite this, when Justin was 14 years old Craig finally paid off his mortgage. Brian was 18. And just as he'd paid it off, on another edge of town someone opened a Q-Mart.

The Q-Mart was a full 2 miles square. There were 5 acres of parking. There were shuttles to drive you out to the farther reaches of the parking lot until 9 pm. It had a Nut Bar, a frozen yogurt Bar and a Brow Bar. There were groceries and toys and clothes and hardware and a 5 star restaurant. And....there was a large...electronics and batteries department. Once a child went missing and was never heard from again. Of course there was the obligatory amber alert and kidnapping inquests. But nothing came of it. Years later, a grassroots urban legend cropped up that the Q-Mart itself had absorbed the child. The child lived in the store, ate the groceries, slept in the bedding department and eventually when he got big enough was hired on and worked there. The Q-Mart ate him. The Q-Mart owned him. But this was just a legend and years later.

But I digress. I apologize. Where was I?

The Q-Mart was so big that it ate power. It guzzled it. And so, even with the solar power plant there were rolling brownouts throughout the town in order to feed the beast. Especially on the wrong side of the tracks. This drove the demand for electronics down even further especially in Craig's neighborhood.

Everybody hoped for the best but prepared for the worst. And the Taylors did all they could but on opening day it was clear they were crushed. Each of the Taylors reacted to this in a different way.

Jennifer screamed for 20 minutes solid and fell unconscious and when she did wake she was still under Morpheus' power and she was catatonic for a week.

Craig had a heart attack.

Justin looked upon his insensate parents with disgust for a few moments. Then he called 911 for an ambulance. He covered his mother with a blanket where she lay. When the ambulance came he gave them his father's information, flirted outrageously with the hunky paramedic (he was gay and horny) got the man's number (who was also gay and horny) and watched the ambulance drive away. Then he went out, locked the door, put the key in the keyholder, put the keyholder up inside the drainpipe which was their hiding place and then left to go join a gang.

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Brian was sixteen. Sweet sixteen. Ring a ding ding. Whoop dee do. Such were Brian's feelings about the whole thing.

He didn't want a party. He didn't like parties or surprises and even after two years the whole partydatedebacle with Lindsay still stained his memory.

Therefore Brian was spending his birthday with only Michael in the swimming pool. They were sitting in floating loungers, naked and eating cake. By the side of the pool, in the shade of a beach umbrella was a boom box playing Brian's favorite music. The boom box had been plugged into an extension cord supplied by the solar power plant. The other end of the cord was a flat, metal, magnetic edge as round and as smooth as a coin. This magnetic edge could be placed on metal faceplates that the company had installed all over the inside and outside of the subscribed houses, so nearly all of them and especially the Mayor's mansion. The faceplates then had wires that led to huge rechargeable batteries in a designated room, usually the basement. For a small charge (and the only charge) the company took away the old batteries and delivered new ones at the same time. The old batteries were taken back to the plant and recharged using solar power.

As well, the plant had provided portable batteries, like square cubes about the size of a bread box. On the top a satellite dish could be collapsed or opened like a steamer dish. Only instead of steam holes the inside of the dish was solar panels. The cube's casing was metal and all you had to do was stick the magnetic end onto side of the battery. This is what the boys had done.

Brian lay back in contentment and gave a deep sigh as every inch of him soaked up the brutal sun. He took a bite of his cake, chocolate of course, with his silver spoon well fork and wondered how life could get any better.

"Briii-annn! Let's do something!" said Mikey plaintively.

"I'm doin' it. I'm soakin' up my birthday sun in my birthday suit eating birthday cake, listening to birthday tunes. I can't think of anything more fun than that."

"But Briii-annnnn! I'm bored!" whined Mikey.

Brian winced. My God, he was shrill. God the whining! The never ending whining! How had he endured it? Why was he enduring it? Why was he still here? Why didn't he just go home? Not for the first time did Brian regret the folly of that fateful 14 year old fuck fest. Michael had grabbed on like a tick and to this day never let go. Brian smiled. He remembered the "play"date. His father had told him a blond was waiting for him. He imagined a petite man yet masculine with a button nose and cupid bow lips or conversely a broad shouldered hunk with shining white gold hair that could match him stroke for stroke in bed and wrestle him for top. Instead, he got that will-o-the wisp of a girl with air for a dress SLUT and weak and watery eyes. Mikey was in a parody of servitude. Brian took in the situation and knew just what to do. Carefully he closed the world out and locked the door. Within 5 minutes he was tying the napkins together in his lap 300 thread count from Egypt and within 7 minutes had stretched and claimed he needed some air and opened the window. While the bitch was sucking down her soup That had been a disgusting noise. The soup was too salty. He d tasted it while he was making the gag. Made him want to gag. Two spoons of the soup the salt had probably raised his blood pressure. Salty. God what he wouldn't give for a wave of icy sea water to splash over him. But he was landlocked and in the middle of the desert. Never gonna happen. he surreptitiously cutthe curtain cords mimicking an old Cary Grant movie. He nattered on about the sun and the sky and the view until he was right behind her CLUELESS and ruthlessly tied her up and gagged her before she could scream too much. Then he did the rest and grabbed Mikey and got the hell out of there.

"Remind me to get my blood pressure checked," Brian said.

"WHAT!?? What has that to do with anything? Brian, you're not listening to me again!" Mikey shrieked.

"Geez Mikey stifle it, will you? If you're so bored no one's tying you down. Leave. Do whatever you want. I can't hear my tunes."

Mikey changed his tone. "Brian...Now listen to me. Listen to me. Now listen to me....Are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening."

"I'm bored. You're bored. Let's go horseback riding. The wind on our faces, blowing through our hair. It's exciting and masculine and will cool us off. The vibration of the saddle against your juicy nuts makes you horny. Very horny. Horseback riding is a great idea. It's your idea. You can take complete credit for it. It's a good idea. It's a great idea."

Michael snapped his fingers.

"Hey, let's go horseback riding! The wind in our face will cool us off for sure!"

"Well, I dunno...What about the tunes?"

"Oh we can listen to music any old time! Don't let the grass grow under your butt Mikey! Come on! What a great idea! Glad I thought of it! Let's go!"

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Two years later....

He drew the line at drugs.

He stole, scammed, forged, hustled, fought and was fought with. He pickpocketed, dine and dashed, pole danced at ladies night at some bars sucked and fucked with a condom. But no one went in the back door and he drew the line at drugs. He didn't make them, he didn't sell them and he didn't use them. He saw firsthand too many times how his homeys would sample their merchandise and become hooked themselves. No way was that happening to him with a useless mother and an ill father in the mix. Way too risky.

Craig had had two more heart attacks since the first one. He was weakened substantially by the first one and the others didn't help a bit. Finally the doctors said there was nothing more that could be done. Any more surgeries would be like working on a heart made out of tissue paper. They sewed him up bundled him off home and charged the Taylors enough money to nearly give Justin a heart attack.

So there they were, the three of them in as much debt as before. Craig took Justin with him to his store, Justin bundled him into his fold out bed with laptop in his lap and his coffee and nitro pills close at hand. He left the office, checked with the one employee that they had left that everything was copasetic and then left the store again to make his rounds. Craig never knew.

Craig truly wanted Justin to follow in his footsteps but Justin would have none of it. In Craig's footsteps meant on the verge of death, in debt, in loveless marriage, failing business, failed everything. Not only that, Justin could never tell him because Craig was a homophobic bigot. So... yeah... Justin made his own hard path with a hard life, hard choices and walked his own footprints.

Justin walked the streets and hustled his way up to the business district. He walked up and down the business district a couple of times light fingering his way through the crowds. This netted him substantially less than the hustling to get there but a dime was a dime. He pocketed the cash, checked that there was ID, left the CC s and dropped the wallets in mailboxes. Too bad they'd be cancelled anyway.

Not for the first time did he look over longingly at the Q-Mart. But it was too big, too spread out and the security was ridiculously fantastic. Justin had heard stories from his homeys how they heard of a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy who got caught shoplifting a pair of toenail clippers. It just wasn't worth it. Justin checked his watch and saw it was almost time for his 12:00. He hurried to the right corner and waited. At exactly 12 a blue BMW with tinted windows pulled up. Justin got in.

Twelve o'clock...Justin refused to call him anything else other than spawn of Satan was a disgusting man. He was rich, clean, a snappy dresser and a head in whatever company he worked for. He was also a masochist and humiliation made him pop a woody. He didn't even care about conventional sex. But he had the lunch hour to drive Justin to a church parking lot; churches were deserted on Weekdays somewhere and have Justin spank him like a recalcitrant child and yell insults at him for an hour. This usually was enough to get Twelve to blow a load. Either way, He paid Justin $1000 and drove him wherever he wished. Justin usually chose Liberty Avenue. He rode in the back seat after it was done. He made sure his stomach was empty so he wouldn't lose his lunch. At 1, was his lunch hour. He lightfingered his fellow fags and went into the Liberty Diner.

"Hiya Sunshine!" screeched Debbie. SHe cracked her gum and cackled like a wicked witch. Justin grinned.

Debbie was a friend. Justin came in after Twelve to wash the blood off his hands and eat when he was flush with cash. Fagin would call him soft and call Debbie an easy mark but Justin didn't care. Fagin was only 20 and the gang leader. That wasn't his real name but that's the only thing Justin would call him. This pissed Fagin off to no end but Justin didn't care. He made sure Fagin knew Debbie and the Liberty Diner was off limits and it was the only place he didn't dine and dash.

"So Sunshine, how's tricks!?"

"Mostly bottoms today," Justin answered honestly.

This elicited another screeching cackle so shrill it broke a couple of water glasses.

"Gawd damm it Deb!! Can you at least tone it down?" yelled the toyboy annoyed who had been holding one of the glasses. He sustained a few cuts but avoided a severed finger.

"My voice is like you! Loud and proud and out there. So get used to it!" shrieked Debbie.

"Just get me another water willya? It's hard enough being a horse led to water without the oasis exploding in your face!" quipped the queer hunk of bulky beefcake.

Deb knew when enough was enough so she complied and apologized to the mollified molly and then came over to Justin and stood over him cracking her gum and holding her pad at the ready.

Justin ordered his usual burger and fries and chocolate milkshake with a baker's dozen lemon bars to go. He ate slowly but steadily and soon the aching chasm that was his stomach was finally filled.

When he was done he left a tenth of the thousand that Twelve had given him under his plate, grabbed his bag of lemon bars and hit the bricks.

He crossed the street and nearly tripped over a pair of legs stuffed into light blue denim. The scrawny fellow street rat was hunched in the doorway. He was dirty from his skin to his fingernails to his denim jacket to his dirty blond hair to his dirty green bandanna around his forehead. Justin tensed and reached for his switchblade. Popped it open. Green was bad. Green was a rival gang to his pink bandanna, the Pink Posse.

What you doin' here, man?" Justin growled low in his throat. "This is Posse territory!"

The fucker acted like he was just waking up. "Uhhhh...nuhhhh...whaaaaa....whaa...who are you?"

Justin showed the fucker his blade. "Wakey wakey, asshole. I'm the guy who will...end..you if you don't fucking tell me what you're doing in this doorway wearing green."

"I...I don't know where I am. Been walking since 6 am. Mom...my mom...can't go home until I bring her $500. I got dizzy...couldn't think right...sat here...just needed to rest my eyes...need to rest...my..."

Justin kicked hard in the leg. "Fucker! Don't you pass out on meDon't you ignore me! You ignore me, I end you, understand green fucker?!" Green fucker nodded.

"You're offences on me are many. You're on my turf. You tripped me. You nearly made me fall. You're trying to scam me. Well it won't work! Get up and fight me! Fight me fucker!"

The denim teen got unsteadily to his feet and faced off with his own blade. Then he lunged and over stepped and fell into Justin. Justin managed to drop his blade before it went into the other boy's stomach. The other blade also clattered on the pavement. Justin caught the boy in his arms and cradled him before lowering him to the ground.

"Shit man! I nearly ended you! Ended you! Don't you understand that!? What's the scam?"

"No scam man No...scam...promise...just a little hungry. You are right....my faults are many. I did the deeds you say. I'm in your territory. Kill me...or make my life....your...slave...." he passed out again.

Justin flicked him on the forehead and then squeezed both lobes and pulled on his ears to wake him up again. Yo! Drama princess! You say you're hungry! When's the last time you ate?"

"Morning...I remember the morning sun on my face..."

"That's not so bad."

"Three days ago."

"Hmmm....Thaaaaat's a little worse," decided Justin.

Green fucker didn't respond. There was nothing more he could say.

Justin looked very hard at his bag of lemon bars and then back at the asshole. Looked at the bag. Looked at green ass. Should make his ass grass. He could end him. End him right here just for being here. Justin picked up his knife and then the fucker's....

And clicked them closed. He gave the asshole back hisblade, pocketed hisown and took out a lemon bar and waved it in front of the dick's nose. Whatever the scam, he guessed it worked.

The nose smelled and the mouth opened like it was ready to receive a fat cock which in fact it did on a regular basis. This time there was no cock but a lemon square. The mouth salivated and snapped at the food by instinct, nearly taking one of Justin's fingers. The boy inhaled the food and chewed like 3times tops before swallowing. Justin fed him another one. The second one was relished, duly processed and swallowed. The sugar was processed quickly. The boy's eyes focussed a bit and stopped rolling around in their sockets.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Fattening me up before the kill?"

"Ohh....HERE!" Justin Shoved the bag at green fucker and leaned in close. "Now listen carefully asshole! A minute ago you were willing to forfeit your life to me as my slave! Fortunately I don't want that but instead you owe me! You owe me three times, three favors, three wishes. If I seek you out you must do whatever I wish or answer any question I give to you. You will not resist or question me only obey. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I understand, said the green slave forged by the steel of his blade and the kindness of his heart.

"What's your name, boi?"

Boi whispered in his ear.

Justin left.

The new slave inhaled three more of the sugary, lemon heavens before he could feel his senses returning to him. At that point, everything went darker as a huge woman with frizzy red hair stood over him with her arms crossed.

"Hey lady, you mind!? You're in my sunlight." His insolence coming back with his strength.

"I saw you! I saw you and Sunshine talking. And then you kept his bag! You stole these from him, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU!!" She grabbed the bag away from him. She looked inside and her eyes widened.

"Nononono NOOOO!!!!!" the ragamuffin leapt up with newfound strength and adrenaline and grabbed back. There was a brief tug of war before the paper tore and Debbie was left holding a piece of paper and greenie was holding a smaller bag with 5 lemon bars and a $50 dollar bill in it. He hunched around it and guarded it like a dragon who sleeps with his treasure. He stuffed in another two bars before she could steal them again. He looked up defiantly and chewed even though he almost couldn't swallow them.

Deb looked on in amusement. "Looks like you bit off more than you can chew."

The boy shrugged. Kept chewing until he could.

"How many of those did you eat before I got here?"

"HE fed me two. Ate 3. Now two more. Three left. Mine. They are. I traded three favors for them. I didn't steal. I mean, I've stolen before but didn't steal these. He gave. We made a bargain. We did. Mine. Best thing I ever ate and you can't have em." This astonishing speech was like a run on sentence that ended when it smashed into a brick wall.

"So....he only kept three of them for himself..." Deb said musingly, looking after Justin in wonder who was long gone.

"K..." said the boy simply. He ate his third to last lemon bar.

"And he gave you fifty bucks."

"Also mine," he said quickly and held the bag closer.

"Best thing you ever ate huh?"

"Yup. What's it to ya?"

"I made em."

The boi's eyes widened. They beheld a greater treasure. He said nothing.

"Well....if you're good enough to have Sunshine...." she mused.

"You're still in my sunshine!" he groused.

"How'd you like a burger to go with those and then 2 more bars? Diner floor's dirty. You can mop it."

"Haven't had food in three days. That's why he gave me the food. Burger first. Water. Then floor. Then bars."

"Sounds do-able," They crossed the street again while Deb fought the instinct to mother hen the boy and lost the battle. They went in and he inhaled a burger with the works and when Deb saw she put a large side order of gravy fries in front of him and a huge glass of milk. He could not refuse and polished everything off autonomically. In return, he swept and then mopped the floor in painstaking detail, taking as long as possible. Now that he was there he was loath to go back on the streets peddling his ass and cock.

Before any of this happened, as they were entering the diner, Deb asked him, what's your name boy?"

"What do you..." want it to be was the rest of that sentence before he remembered she wasn't a client. "wanna know for?"

"Income tax purposes! How bout you tell me or the deal's off!?" she bitched.

The boi sighed. She was a bitch.His mother was a bitch.Life was a bitch. Starving was a bitch. The gutter was a bitch. Dying was a bitch. He was 3 quarters starved and Justin had nearly killed him And had taken his name and dignity for three times. Might as well give up the only thing he owned. Who the hell cared that that was the case. He had nothing. Dignity. Life. Name. Nothing.

"Jason. My name's Jason Kemp." He gave up.

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Meanwhile, Justin.......

What?

What do you mean that's not enough? That's the trouble with you young people nowadays. Always wanting more. Fiiiiine...<Rolls eyes>

Meanwhile, Justin walked on down the street away from his act of kindness, never considering that it had been paid forward. He sucked two cocks for $50 each and then caught a rich John who he fucked with a condom for a $1000. It occurred to him not for the first time that there were a lot of gay or bi men in this town deep in the desert.

At about 4 PM, he figured that was about enough, hustled his bustle to the dingy and only gay bar in town, Woody's, where the Pink Posse had made it their hangout and headquarters. He made his way to the booth where Fagin hung out like Jabba the Hut, if Jabba the Hut was a surly twenty something with a leather fetish and had abs. He even had the 18 year old skinny kid slave on a chain and collar and allowed him only to wear leather tighty whiteys. Of course they were black tighty whiteys but.....uggghh...are you as bored with this douche as I am yet? Good. Let's move on.

"Hey Fagin," greeted Justin.

"Gawwd-dammit Justin, my name's not Fagin!" yelled Fagin for the hundredth time. "My name is...."

"Let's review. You're the head of a gang of a bunch of pickpockets and cutthroats. Myself excluded. You demand a cut of the take even though you do none of the legwork. And you're a huge hoarder and a tightwad. Sound familiar? Sounds like Fagin to me!" Justin said for the hundredth time.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Fagin prissily.

"You should read more. It's food for your mind. It'll make you smarter," said Justin brightly, sounding remarkably like a PSA.

"I'm plenty smart," said Fagin.

"Start with Oliver Twist." suggested Justin for the millionth time.

"Who's he?"

"Egggggsssactly," said Justin unhelpfully.

"Oh just give be your 25% and get out of here!" snarled Fagin. "I'm sick of looking at you!"

"The feeling's mutual," returned Justin, "However...crazy mother + heart attacked father = ....10%."

"Your home life concerns me even less than it interests me. 20%."

"15."

"You're really pushing it Taylor," Fagin growled.

"Awww, Fagin. That's why you love me. I challenge you when others bore you. Come on....We're saving up to bring Molly home."

"Grrrrrr. You always play the S- card!" (sister)

"That's because it's so valuable. Besides...I had a good day. Fifteen percent is better than nothing."

Fagin just growled which meant it was a deal so Justin paid his due and got the hell out of there. He was glad to see the sun again. He hopped on a bus, took it back to the wrong side of the tracks and walked into Taylor Electronics on the stroke of 5.

"How's business and how was he?" he asked.

"Slow as usual and he was quiet as a mouse." said the clerk.

"Dad! It's quitting time!" Justin said and walked into the office.

Craig's eyes were wide and he was laid out flat on his bed clutching his heart. His coffee was overturned and his nitro pills were all over the floor where they'd fallen over, probably when he'd grabbed for them in a panic. He was dead.

Justin sighed and called out the door. " Well, I've found out why he was so quiet! You wanna call 911 for me!?"

"Sure thing Justin!"

"Oh and try and get Leo to come! He was....real good with him the last few times....yeah, that should fly.....Oh....and tell them it's a DOA and 110 F! I'm sure they'll do the math!"

He shut the door of the office. Then he shut his father's eyes but otherwise touched nothing. He sat at the desk and swivelled to watch his father's body dispassionately. He took out one of the three lemon bars and ate it. He wished he felt something, anything about his death but honestly it was mostly like having a train arrive after waiting two years at the station for it. Then it hit him.

Dammit. This was going to cost him 5% with Fagin.

Justin called his mother, told her he'd be a little late, waited for the ambulance, waited till they'd packed him in, dragged Leo and his muscles around back and made out frantically with him and sucked him off in such a frenzy that Leo came buckets in about 2 minutes.

Justin swallowed every drop. He got up off his knees and blamed it on the grieving.

"Uh huh...So does this mean we can go on a real date now? Dinner maybe?"

"You know I'm a teenage hustler right?"

"Mehhh...."

"Well, how can I argue with that logic? I'd like that."

"Great." Leo left, with a smile on his face and took his big arms, muscles and abs with him.

Justin locked up and left. He was 16. Brian was 20.

TBC