Date: Sat, 10 Mar 2007 19:42:00 -0800 (PST)
From: Matthew Templar <matemp1148@yahoo.com>
Subject: Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 3

	All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
	Furthermore, every word of this story is fiction.  Nothing within
this tale happened to anyone who I know.  Any reference to anyone, anything
or any place, real, living or dead is coincidental.
	If there is someone that has written a law saying that you can't
read this story because of age or local laws or other such 'wisdom', then
you haven't really gotten this far into Nifty to read this anyway, right!
Write to me with the date of your legal birthday and I will...Not!
	While the main thrust (try not to get excited by the graphic words
before you even get to the story) of this work is not sex, there will be
those times when it will occur between consenting adults and at least one
consenting minor.  There will never be a plethora of sexual trysts in this
story.  Though there will be some, I found myself caught up in the hearts
of the characters, not their libidos.  There will be a lot of bedroom
scenes, but their emphasis will be on sleeping and waking and things like
that, spiced occasionally with something to let the characters sleep more
peacefully.  I would ask that you wait until you have read five chapters to
see the characters and their relationships unfold.  You don't have to wait
to express your opinion as I would also appreciate knowing if you are
enjoying this story.  I will answer all appropriate emails, but, thank you
in advance for your time.
	Finally, there is not enough room to express my gratitude to Dwight
Wilson for his dedication to resolving the problems I had with making
legible sense out of this work and then encouraging me to hit the 'Submit'
button.  Read Brad's Idol in Adult/Youth and New Horizons in Authoritarian
to know the experience he brings to my story.


Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter Three

       After breakfast for him and brunch for me, because I don?t eat
breakfast, I finally looked around the place.  It was just one big room.
There was a cluster of a sofa and assorted overstuffed chairs and a love
seat in one corner.  The bed was in the middle of the room and the kitchen
was a counter against the back wall and an island a few feet out from it.
The fridge and stove were up against the wall farthest from the side door
and there was a kitchen table and chairs right inside that door.  That?s
where we were sitting.  Let's see.  No TV, no radio, no electricity and no
commode.  I really was in that most horrible of places - the place from
"Deliverance".  Russ was going over some of the things that needed to be
done up here and I was listening to him, fascinated by the confident way he
handled himself and the positive difference in him from the night before.
	"And I need to talk to someone about the pilot light.  It keeps
going out.  Oh, and that front door.  If it comes off its hinges it?ll kill
someone.  It must weight 200 pounds."
	"Maybe we should take it off its hinge and set it against the door
frame until you get what you need to fix it.  Then no one could go in and
out of that door."
	He pointed a finger at me, stood up and started to walk away,
grabbing his shirt as he passed through the side door.
       "Okay then.  See you later."  I craned my neck so I could just see
him pull on his shirt and reach into the back of his truck.
	"Don?t get your knickers in a knot, boy.  I?m just getting my
tools."  He walked back up onto the porch but turned and went around to the
front door.  Pretty soon the door wobbled open and he stuck his head
through the opening.  I had started to gather up our dishes when he called
out,
	"Excuse me?  I could use a hand here."  I left the dishes and
started toward him.
	"Sorry.  I was just?"
	"Boy!" he said, startling me.  "You can?t work like that.  You?ll
hurt something real valuable.  Hm-m-m."  It was easy to see what he thought
was ?real valuable? by where his eyes were looking.  I looked down there
too and sidelined over to my suitcase and grabbed some old hiking boots and
socks and quickly put them on.  I got up and took two steps.  His voice
startled me again by its command.
	"Boy!  You forgot to cover your jewels.  No tellin? when we might
be needin? them again."  He was leaning against the door frame, smiling ear
to ear and shaking his head in disbelief.  I returned to my suitcase and
decided to have some fun of my own.  I was given a pair of silk boxers for
Christmas from my ex-girlfriend.  But I had never worn them after I had
tried them on for her once.  They had been a bit too tight, which was
probably on purpose and, soon after Christmas the problems with our
relationship started to surface.  It was hard to be intimate when you lost
all desire.  I pulled them on and approached Russ to help him with the
door.  The effect was worth the uncomfortable pressure on my boys and their
tall partner above them.  His eyes were fixed and unmoving and I could
swear I could see the tip of his tongue pass from one side of his smile to
the other.  I guess I should have been more sensitive about the mixed
messages I was sending him.  He made that clear when he spoke up,
	"Now that just isn?t fair, you sexy tease.  If you don?t rip those
on your walk over here they may not last too long when you get much
closer."
	"Oh man!  I?m sorry.  I wasn?t even thinking.  I mean, I was but I
never, I wanted to?"
	"Nicely put, son.  You sure weren?t, and you may not have meant to,
but you sure did."
	I looked down to see the image I was making and in a fell swoop
Russ scooped me up and twirled me about three times right in the middle of
the room.  He set me down and whooped!  He just stood there with his huge
grin and his thumbs in his belt.
	I was busy trying to get my balance and was beginning to feel silly
by my leading him on and by him treating me like a little floozy.  "I?m as
much a man as he," I thought as I stood there in just skin-tight red and
green silk boxers and hiking boots and my hands in my belt, or at least, my
waist band.
	"Come here!" Russ demanded, shaking his head back and forth in
disbelief.
	"Now wait, Russ.  I didn?t intend?"
	"And help me with this door?"  Yes, he said it like a question to
show how idiotic I sounded right after we just talked about this.  So I
straightened up, threw my chest out and walked over to help him with his
task as only another man could, in my red and green silkies and boots.  He
tried not to laugh but he wasn?t doing a very convincing job of disguising
it with a coughing fit.
	"Grab the door and steady it, he man!"  I don?t think that was a
compliment and I had to start being more aware of what I was doing to him
and me.  But first we got the door down and up against the frame.
"Shouldn?t go anywhere now.  Takes two people to budge it.  Hm-m."
	We did a few more things around and I finally got to the dishes.
Believe me I was really out of character.  These would have walked to the
sink by themselves if I wasn?t trying to impress Russ with how responsible
I was.  He was resting at the table with the last of the coffee when an
urge came over me.  I slowly walked up to him as he tipped back his cup
into his mouth.  I couldn?t wait anymore.  I was on the verge of starting a
form of my Pee Dance again.
	"I have got to go the bathroom Russ.  Is there a ditch or something
or do I have to walk to the gas station and get a key?"
	"Funny, boy.  Take that TP by the door and walk up the path," he
said, pointing out the window over the sink to a narrow path that went up a
bushy hill.
	"Well, do I take a shovel or what?" I asked, grabbing the four pack
of toilet paper.
	"Everything you need is up there.  Hey, is that the same pee-pee
dance you did last night?"  How he could be having so much fun at my
suffering, I?ll never know.
	"No!  This one?s the shits!" I said indignantly as I stormed out of
the cabin and rushed toward the path.  Of course, I was still close enough
to hear him roar with laughter.  Sadist.  I hope he doesn?t hurt himself
when he falls on the floor in his fits!
	I only had to walk fifty feet or so and the trail ended.  I figured
this was it.  I looked to see if there were signs of anyone else using the
?toilet? and couldn?t even see a shovel.  I was getting desperate so I
stepped off the path, walked a few steps, dropped the boxers and started to
kneel back to hang my plugged up ass over a fallen tree.  I think I saw
that in the same movie, I think it was Deliverance, or read it in an
outdoor magazine once.  I was startled by the sound of the bushes being
scraped and looked up to see Russ standing there.
	"What the hell are you doin? over there, boy?"  It seemed obvious
to me and he?s the one who told me to come up here.  I opened my mouth to
repeat his instructions but was stopped by his hand and head waving at this
pathetic sight.
	"Get up, hike up them drawers and follow," he said as he walked to
the end of the path.  "I suppose I?ll have to wipe your sorry ass too, huh?
Hm-m-m."
	"You said to follow the trail and?," I said, justifying my actions
as I joined him on the path to see his next actions.  He had gone to the
end of the path where he reached down to the side and pulled up a bush that
must have blown onto?the rest of the path!  "Now, how was I to know," I
shouted as I hurried past him, wondering if I would make it in time.  One
more turn and there it was: another, albeit smaller, version of the main
cabin.  I pushed open the door and saw a huge hot tub and a door that, I
hoped, led to my destination.  I pulled at the handle and found the most
beautiful site - porcelain.  I quickly closed the door and began to relieve
the pressure.
	"TP?s out here by the door.  Thought it might come in handy."  Very
funny.  He was really enjoying this.
	I heard his boots like he was leaving me to my own devices.  When I
finished, I looked for the holder only to find it empty.  Giving a sigh, I
pushed the door open to see the toilet paper ten feet away by the front
door.  I grabbed my shorts at my ankles and waddled out to retrieve a roll
of the precious paper.  I turned to go back to finish my paper work and saw
Russ leaning against the wall nearest the water closet.
	"What a butt!  Thanks a lot, friend!"  I said that as indignantly
as possible with more than enough emphasis on ?friend?.
	"What a butt.  That?s what I was just about to say about yours.
Fine piece of work, boy."  As I finished my chore, he started back to the
cabin.  I caught up to him as he stepped up onto the deck.
	"You could have explained, you know.  I was in some pain there.  It
could have been disastrous."
	"I told you earlier; you just had your mind elsewhere.  Don?t give
it no mind, David.  You would?ve cleaned up fine.  You found out long ago
that you?re drip dry."
	We worked for a few more hours stopping for lunch and a beer.  Then
he left me for a doctor?s appointment in West Fork, saying that, early the
next day, he would buy the supplies we needed for the work that we would do
over the next few days.  He would return in the late morning and lend me a
hand.
	"I?m particularly sorry that I won?t be here earlier to lend you a
hand again?when you wake up, David."  Of course, I blushed like a 4 year
old, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, thinking about how good his
hand made me feel.
	The strange thing was I missed him.  Sure, there wasn?t much to do
without cable, but I missed his wit and his confidence and his eyes and his
touch?well anyway, someone to talk to was always welcome, right?  There I
was thinking about a seventy-three year old man as if he were my new
interest.  I really must have been lonely.  But what was it about him that
drew me to him and made me all mushy?  What if what he said about me was
right?  Who was I really and what was I hiding, and who was I hiding it
from?  Me?
	Luckily, night came quickly and my exhaustion from the day allowed
me to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  I did make the bed
before I stripped and closed my eyes.
	Morning was much the same as the one before with one disappointing
difference.  There was no Russ to arouse me from my slumber.  No Russ to
arouse me all the way to climax either.  Since I didn?t have a say in it,
it wasn?t really wrong, right?  It was okay for me to enjoy it, right?
	Just then I heard something in the kitchen and knew he tricked me
again and was starting the coffee or something.  I smiled, thinking of the
conversation or 'something' we would be enjoying in a minute.  But then I
heard this little clicking noise getting a bit louder and then stop.  I
looked up to see what it was.  I looked right into the eyes of the most
enormous chipmunk or squirrel.  The reason it was huge was because it had
jumped up onto the bed and was staring me down from less than ten inches
away.  Shit!  I jumped straight up and came down to see that varmint scurry
back to the kitchen.  I was screaming and ran naked, to get something to
chase it out of the cabin.  I grabbed a place mat from the center of the
table, sending the sugar, salt and pepper that were on it, crashing to the
floor.  It must have been a scary place mat because that invader ran, full
speed, out the front door.
	"Ha!  Mess with me, will you?" I said loud enough for every animal
for miles to hear and run from me and my deadly place mat.  I tried to heat
up water for coffee but the pilot light must have gone out.  I couldn?t see
where to relight it so I lit one of the lanterns and knelt down to see
where the flame should be.  But a movement in my peripheral vision made me
turn to see that pesky nuisance peek in, beside the leaning front door.  So
I had to put up the lantern, grab my place mat and jump at the animal.  He
ran, of course.  Wouldn?t you?
	Well, I?d had enough of this.  First, I put on the silk boxers in
case Russ or someone drove up and they were between me and my clothes,
being the sensible person I was.  Then I went out the side door (because
the front door took two people to move) and went around to see if I could
block the openings around the base of the door that were allowing intruders
into my domain.  I must have looked for ten or fifteen minutes for rags or
something.  I finally gave up and went back to the front door just as I saw
that scamp duck around the door again.  Great.  I grabbed the sides of the
door and leaned my head against it in defeat.  Just then I heard the sound
of glass breaking.  Like maybe something was knocked over by the squirrel.
Like the lantern?

	The roar of a house exploding is something I will never get used
to.  The force wasn?t all that much fun either.  Of course, after the first
second, I was out cold.

***

       The next thing I remembered was my hands, feet, knees and stomach
being really cold.  I remember feeling like I was floating.  I also
remembered that most of my body felt hot, in spite of the cold.  If I had
not been holding the door when it was blown away from the house I would
have been dead, crushed by the impact.  But, I guess, I was just carried
along with the door to?the river!  Of course!  I was floating in and out of
very painful consciousness and floating down the river on the door.  That
explained the freezing cold.  It was the water lapping up, onto the door.
        The blast explained the ache everywhere else.  For some reason,
even though I realized the cabin just blew up probably, and I was still
alive probably, the most important thing I thought of was my dignity.
Slowly, painfully, because everything hurt, I brought one hand to my waist
and moved it down until I could feel the waist band of the boxers.  I gave
a thankful sigh of relief, knowing the most embarrassing parts of me were
covered, and then I was out; everything went dark again.
	I found out later that the stove and the water heater both lost
their pilot lights and leaked gas onto the floor of the cabin since right
after Russ left the night before.  It was probably my deceased squirrel
that, may he rest in peace, knocked over the lantern and ignited the fumes.
Every window and door were gone and the roof was a bit needy, but the cabin
walls withstood the blast.  As I guessed, the blast carried the door and me
out, onto the river and we floated for about an hour until the door decided
to dock at the bridge that we had used to get up to the cabin two days
earlier.
       It wasn?t until much later that I heard that it was the boy in the
forest that found me.  I was told that he got a wheelbarrow and laid it
down next to me.  He then rolled me into the wheelbarrow and tipped the
wheelbarrow and me upright.  I guess he spent quite sometime until he
finally got me up the slight bank and wheeled me to his home.

***

       The first thing I remembered was the pain, a lot of it, everywhere.
The first thing I heard, no, the second, because the first was a ringing in
my ears that seemed as if it may never go away.  The second were those
sweet words,
       "This should help with any pain he may be having."  I didn?t
recognize the voice, but I felt the bite in my butt and the warmth of some
liquid finding its way through the needle into my cheek.
       "So, you gonna take him with you then, Doc?"  I didn?t recognize his
voice either.  It was older and sounded grumpy.  But the first one must
have been a doctor; a real one, I hoped.
       "No-o!  I found him.  He?s mine!"  Now that whiny voice rang a bell.
It had to be my little munchkin from the other night.  It would be just my
luck that he?d get to keep me in a cage, hanging in the living room to show
off the words I knew like a mynah bird or something, while he told everyone
about how he captured me.
       "Son, he?s no good to you in this condition.  We?ve got to get him
well and then find out where he belongs.  His mommy and daddy may be
worried about him," said the doctor?s condescending voice.
       "Oh brother.  Don?t you think he?s a bit big for his mommy and daddy
to worry about him?" said the boy, finally without the whine, but with lots
of sarcasm.
       "Could be, I suppose," answered the doctor, "But you?d think he?d
have hair somewhere on his body if he were older"
       All of this was making me feel very nervous.  They obviously hadn?t
connected me to the blast, or they simply didn?t know about it; hadn?t even
heard it.
       I felt the medicine begin to take effect so I tried to open my eyes.
God it hurt!  Were my eyelashes melted to my eyebrows?  As I was able to
focus I could see two older gentlemen at the end of the bed, looking at
each other, discussing my fate, no doubt.  Then I saw something move to my
left and I moved my head to see my young gardener; what was his name?  Ah,
Grant!
       He bent down to look right in my eyes, then continued his inspection
of each part of my face.  It was a bit intimidating until he straightened
some and smiled.  I?m not going to say that it was the most breathtaking
smile ever, by the most beautiful child ever.  But his smile, its warmth, I
guess, gave me an assurance, a comfort, a mixture of feelings that were
hard to pin down.  I just felt like I could relax.  I tried to return the
smile and I felt his hand smooth out what was left of the hair on my head,
although just a bit like he was petting me.  Then I must have returned to
dreamland.
       A minute later, I awoke in a gleaming white room.  Of course it must
have been hours but I was out of it.  The ringing wasn?t as bad but every
joint and muscle felt like it was burning, along with almost every inch of
my skin.
	"You?ve decided to join us then," said the voice of a female with
an Irish accent.  "And how are we feeling this fine morning, young man?"
	Keeping my eyes open was real work.  I didn?t know if it was the
muscles being sore or what.  The bright light certainly wasn?t helping.
But no sooner had I thought that then she walked over and closed the
curtains.  Could this whole town read my mind?
	"That should be better.  You were a squintin? like it hurt to open
those beautiful peepers of yours, and I couldn?t have that.  I need to
continue me work here so you just relax."  I felt a cool salve on my face.
Then I felt my skin being ripped from my chest!  I felt like I practically
stood up to follow the ripping so it would stop.  "Sorry me boy.  You?ve
got some burns that we need to tend to.  If we don?t replace the bandages
and use this cream, you?ll scar that beautiful body of yours."
	I thought I was opening my mouth to speak but all I did was start
coughing.  God, that hurt!
	"There, there now.  You just take a moment and try to relax.  You
shouldn?t try to speak for awhile.  Your body has been traumatized and we
don?t want you to injure anything more than it is.  So just you rest your
weary bones and I?ll be back in a few moments."  I couldn?t swear to the
last part because I was already drifting back to where ever patients drift
in Euphoria.  I was out again.

	"There you be again, wee one," said my Irish angel of mercy.  "And
I should think you?d be feeling a mite perky for the rest you?ve had."
	I couldn?t have been asleep all that long because the day was as
new as the last time I woke up.  But she was right; I did feel better,
stronger somehow, like I wasn?t going to scream at every movement.  Oh, I
was still sore in more places than I could list, but it was nothing like
earlier.
	"Two days rest will do that to a young man in your condition."
	My head snapped up toward her voice and my eyes opened wide in
shock at her news.  I felt her movements before, arranging the blankets
around my shoulders and then she was down at the foot of the bed folding a
second blanket over my feet when she turned to see my expression.  Of
course she had red hair, well, red and gray, though I wouldn?t be the one
to tell her.  She was probably in her fifties and looked like she didn?t
need another meal for awhile.  Plump, I think; Rubinesk, maybe.  But her
voice had a kind sound that made me feel well cared for.
	"Close your mouth, me boy.  Like I said, you?ve been here a total
of three days, two since the last time you made an appearance.  Are you
going back to Neverland or should I tell the doctor you?ve come to stay,
then?"
	Just give me a minute to let it sink in.  Three days.  Still, I
must have needed it or I would have been back up the hill rebuilding the
cabin.  Right!
	"I think I?ll stay for awhile if that?s okay.  Is it okay to eat
something?  I think I?m starving."  I heard barely a whisper that must have
been me.  It sure hurt like it was me!
	"Well, of course you are, me lad.  Except for the drip, drip, drip
into your arm, you?ve nothing to eat or drink since your breakfast that
fateful morning, I'm thinking.  (How could she know that I didn't eat
breakfast?)  I?ll ask the kind doctor about a tray for you, immediately.
Now don?t you be in a hurry to go wandering."  There was a laughing quality
to her voice as she almost sang the words.  My pride told me that it must
have been because her favorite patient was finally alert.  But reality
probably would have confirmed that she was always that way.  She left my
sight, undoubtedly to go get my steak and eggs and coffee.
	As I was waiting, I felt the places on me where I thought I would
have had bandages.  The one on my chest that had hurt so bad the last time
that it had me standing up in bed, was gone by now.  I couldn't really feel
any others.  I even checked to see if the team between my legs was intact.
I think I sighed out loud when I found everyone accounted for.  I was still
very tender, though.  It didn't even occur to me that I wasn't feeling me
through PJs or anything.
	I could have sworn I heard a door open somewhere to my right.  It
had hurt so bad the last time when I turned my head that I didn?t want to
feel that again.  A shadow moved over the bed and a cold hand touched mine.
	"Are you going to live?"  I turned a bit to find my young gardener
staring into my eyes again.  I had to laugh a little.  It was like he had
to have proof that they were really my eyes.
	"I?ll live, thank you."  Woe, was that me?  I sounded like I had
been to three rock concerts in the same night and screamed through all of
them.  I coughed a few times, hoping to clear my rasping, and tried again.
"Yeah, I think I?ll make it."
	"Good!" he proclaimed, a little loudly, and straightened up, taking
off that ugly striped jacket and throwing it behind him onto a chair.  "It
would have been a real waste if you?d died like the doctor thought."
	It didn?t dawn on me right then the impact of his words, because I
had to know,
	"Why do you always lean in to look into my eyes like that?"
	"My grandfather used to tell my old man that you could tell a lot
about a person with good eyes.  He said you could see right down to their
soul and tell if they were good or not worth a red cent."  He said it in
that matter-of-fact way that kids do when they know they can?t be disputed.
This showed a rare confidence that society would knock out from under kids
his age soon enough.
	"Could you get me something to drink, little boy?  I feel like
there?s cotton growing out of my mouth."  I had no sooner said that then he
bristled and snapped his eyes to mine, but this time, burning through my
eyes.  I knew what I had done.  "I?m sorry.  I apologize.  Anyone who would
go to the trouble of saving someone is no little boy.  Again, I apologize
and thank you for my life."
	That seemed to do some to mend my faux pas, but the look of
distrust returned as he moved to the sink in the bathroom to get my drink.
I tried to lighten the air a little.
	"Scotch would be nice."  As soon as I said it, I remembered the
sound of the woman?s voice from his house.  I felt myself cringe at another
mistake.
	"You?re not gettin? any booze from me.  If I could get it, I?d
throw it out."
	I tried again to recover by saying, "You?re right.  I made a bad
joke.  I think it?s time I started over again.  I?m not usually this bad at
conversations.  Hi.  I?m David.  I?m pleased to meet you, Mister....?"
	"Well, I guess I?m pleased to meet you too, but you don?t have to
call me mister."  He handed me the water and watched me as I finished it
off.  "You can just call me Grant, Grant DeWitt.  And, by the way, can I
ask you a question?"
       "I?m sure you must have a hundred questions.  I know I do."
       "Well, it?s kind of embarrassing.  It?s just that when I found
you?well?It?s just that?"
       "Grant, please don?t be embarrassed to ask me anything you want.  I
may not know the answer but I will try to be as truthful as I can.  Lay it
on me, little, I mean, young man."  With the obvious freedom that I had
bestowed on him, he moved over to the chair and was getting something out
of that ugly striped coat.  He returned to lean on the side of the bed.  I
couldn?t see what he had in his hand until he practically pushed it into my
face.  I also saw that he was sporting a huge smile.
       "This is what you were wearing when I found you.  What in tarnation
is it?"  He was really trying to stifle a laugh, and probably could have
achieved that if he hadn?t seen my reaction when I realized what he was
holding.
       "Oh my God!  Is that all that was left of it?"  Of course he
couldn?t answer because his hand had gone to his mouth and his head had
gone to the side of the mattress to help control his fits of laughter.  I
reached for what was the only remnant of my wardrobe, not only on my recent
river trip but, what I was beginning to fear, was the last of everything
else I owned.
       In his hand I found a black elastic strap.  It was the same one I
put on before I chased the critter out of the cabin.  It was the same band
that I felt while cruising down the mighty Compton River a few days ago.
The one that I thought was connected to the rest of my silk boxers.  As I
held it up I saw where the rest of the fabric had literally melted away to
little globules of plastic.
       "Man!  It wasn?t even silk!  It was cheap polyester.  It must have
melted on me too."
       He lifted his head a little and, while he wasn?t laughing out loud,
I could see that it was still in his gleaming bright eyes.  "You got some
mighty bad burn marks down there, David.  You're goin? to be mighty sore
for awhile."
       Without thinking, I threw back the blanket and sheet to see the
damage.  I thought I would have to move the gown out of the way so I
uncovered everything.  Imagine my joy when I realized that there was no
gown and that I was flashing a child and anyone else that might happen to
come into the room.
       "What!  Where?s my gown?"
       Once again the tyke?s head found the mattress in fits of laughter
and, once again, his hand was holding up the source of my embarrassment; a
neatly folded gown.
       "They didn?t see any reason to put it on you because they had to
keep taking care of your burns."  It must have been tough to say that with
tears rolling down his face, accompanied by his attempts to stop
hyperventilating at my expense.  Conveniently, he wiped his eyes and blew
his nose on the unused gown and threw it into the chair behind him.  What
was left on his face were a few streaks of pale boy, surrounded by the rest
of his filthy face.  It wasn?t until then that I noticed that it had been a
few days since he had washed or bathed.  I also noticed a cool breeze from
my neck to my knees.
       "Funny," said my little critic, "I didn?t think it was all that cold
in the room."  Just as I caught him staring at my middle he grabbed the
pile of bedclothes and swept them back over me until my privates were
covered some, but below was still showing.  "The scarring is coming along
nicely, young man."  I had to chuckle as he tried to imitate a grown up
doctor.  He poked me lightly on my hip bone and it hurt!
       My hand grabbed his and he jerked his startled face up to mine.
       "Ow!  That hurt!"  At first he looked terrified but he quickly
relaxed, gave a smirk of disdain and, while shaking his head, said,
       "Baby!  It?s just a little red down there."
       "Yeah!  Well, some people prefer their steak that way and it?s dead!
I still have feelings."
       I looked at his hand in mine.  It wasn?t being pulled away, which
was interesting.  I was glad that he was beginning to be a little more
comfortable around a stranger.  But I also noticed his fingernails and the
dirt that was apparent on his hand.

       "Grant, I was wondering?"
       "So, you?re in here again."  My red headed nurse had returned with a
tray in her arms and a scowl on her face.

NTLFG - The End of Chapter Three
To be continued

Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at
matemp1148@yahoo.com