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    Zenith
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Special Forces - 14. Chapter 14

I followed Leslie into his lair. His movements were cat-like, almost feminine. His ass was undulating in the harem pants. Given his slim build and lithe walk, I figured he must be into Yoga.

The house’s living room, like its owner, hadn’t been updated in at least 30 years. The walls were panelled in dark wood—probably walnut—and the threadbare furniture was overstuffed and comfortable looking. All the coffee and end tables were covered with books and magazines. Shelves were overflowing with books and pottery. There was an eclectic mix of art on the walls, everything from Italian Renaissance to Rothko-like modern. Heavy drapes kept out what little light the small windows could permit. It might have looked like a hoarder’s den, but it didn’t. Somehow it all came together to look sophisticated and artsy. The kitchen was likewise out of date. Old painted cupboards and a genuine chrome and vinyl kitchen set. Everything was so ‘original’ I wondered if he had inherited the house from his parents.

Stepping out of the kitchen we entered a glassed breezeway that led to his studio. The studio, unlike the house, was open and full of light. Large windows caught the pale northern light which illuminated potters wheels and benches covered with various stages of work. Keeping with the man’s character the place had a sort of organized chaos reflective of the artistic pottery pieces that were produced here. I grew excited realizing that I would indeed learn something from this extraordinary man.

“Like what you see?” he said. The double-entendre was not lost on me.

“You have an amazing studio. I’m sure I’ll learn a lot on this course.”

“I have a feeling about you Nick. You have the look of an artist. You’re a kindred spirit, am I right?”

“I hope so, Leslie. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You haven’t seen my work yet,” I laughed. “How many people will be on the course?”

“Just you and three others. Two women friends from San Francisco and another from Santa Fe. I have high hopes for her. But as Forrest Gump said, ‘A class is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. Would you like a little wine? Joint?”

“Uh, no thanks, Leslie. Listen, I’d better go. I’d like to explore Mendocino a little before we start work tomorrow.”

Leslie looked a little disappointed at my refusal. He was a player, no doubt about that, but as attractive as his whole hippy-artist aura was, he was no competition for Sam. I was flattered by his attention, and who knows, if I was as lonely as I had been before I met Sam I might have fallen for his charms.

It was late afternoon when I got back to the inn. The sun was high over the Pacific Ocean and the town’s front street buildings were shining like diamonds. I checked out a few souvenir stores and found a delightful little stuffed killer whale for Jorge. I wanted to get something for Sam, but couldn’t find just the right thing.

After my exploration of the shops, I found a steep path to the beach and followed that down the cliff. There was a stiff salt-laden breeze blowing off the ocean. Bracing was the word I thought of.

Back in my room I phoned Sam to tell him about my day. My description of Leslie Greenaway as a lecherous old hippy made him laugh. But Sam didn’t have a jealous bone in his body, which I knew came from his blind trust in me. Most men might have issued a warning to be careful, but not Sam.

He told me that he’d taken the Cottons over to Mission bay and they were just heading home now. The boys were asleep on the front birth and had had a good time swimming in the bay’s warm waters.

He promised to call me (there was that sex tone in his voice again) later after Jorge was asleep.

Next I called Joseph to check in on him. I was concerned because I hadn’t heard from him, and this was the day of his police interview. He told me that the ‘policeman’ that had interviewed him was actually a woman, and that she was really nice. She had made him tell his story of the beating and was interested in what he had to say. Wendy was there the whole time but she didn’t need to intervene once. The interview had been video recorded and might be used in court when he father faced the charges.

“How are you feeling about all this, Joseph?”

“I’m kind of mad at my dad, so I’m glad he’s getting into trouble. And my mom, too, because she didn’t do anything to stop him. But I feel guilty too, ‘cuz it was kinda my fault too.” My heart lurched hearing him say that.

“Did you say that to the police officer?”

“No, it never really came up. She just had me describe what happened, you know. She never really asked why he beat me.”

“Good for her! Joseph, listen to me, there’s no reason ever for someone to do that. You understand?”

“Nick?”

“Yes.”

“I’m kinda scared. Well....did you ever get beat up? For you know? Being...um...gay?”

Ah, so we were getting there.

“No Joseph, I didn’t. But then I didn’t have a mean father and mother either.”

Silence.

“Joseph, I’m going to be there in about 4 days and we’ll have a good talk then. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just know that I’m here for you, okay? Like I said, Sam and I will do everything in our power to ensure your safety and happiness.”

“What if Colonel Williams finds out? And Mrs. Williams?”

“Well, how about if we talk about that when I get there? Although I’m sure Colonel and Mrs. Williams might be wondering.... Don’t forget your protectors—Sam and me—are gay. That certainly begs the question. Have you received any negative vibes from the Williams?”

“Oh no! Not at all! They’re so nice! They keep offering me food. I eat way more here than I did at home. I hope I don’t get fat! And after we went to the police station this morning, Colonel Williams took me to his golf club for lunch. I had an amazing hamburger with tons of fries! He’s going to teach me how to play golf when my ribs are healed! I don’t know if I’ll be good at it though. Is it hard?”

“Well, I’ve played a bit. I guess it takes some skill, but with practice you’ll probably get pretty good at it.”

“I’m gonna help Mrs. Williams with the dishes after dinner. She’s cooking Vietnamese. I hope I like it. She’s so nice. I hope I can eat it. Well, I’ll sure try.”

I was relieved at the change of subject. Typical teenager. His thoughts were all over the map.

“Did the Williams say anything about school?”

“He said he’s going to enroll me in Monterey High. He said the principal is a golf buddy of his. Colonel Williams seems to know everyone! But I don’t have to go for a few days ‘cuz of my ribs. I’m kinda scared though. What if the other kids don’t like me? Maybe if I keep quiet they won’t even notice me.”

“Did you have any friends at your last school up in Sand City?”

“Um, well, sorta. They were kinda stoners though.”

“You didn’t?....You don’t?”

“God no! I’m kinda scared of dope. I don’t wanna lose control, and you know....”

“You mean like lose your inhibitions?”

“Yeah, like that. COMING! Uh, sorry, Nick. Mrs. Williams just called me for dinner!”

“Okay, Joseph. It was a real pleasure talking to you. Let me know how you like the Vietnamese food. Bye.”

“Bye!”

I mulled over the conversation we’d just had. In spite of his sub-standard parents (no wonder he was so skinny, he wasn’t getting enough to eat) he seemed like a good-natured kid. I was certain that the Williams would have no problem with his being gay. Judging from their daughter, who was an incredibly compassionate person (for a lawyer), they had been excellent, nurturing parents. I said a little silent prayer of thanks to the universe and the Borg for the way things had turned out. Joseph didn’t have a lot of self-confidence, but I thought that, with his optimistic nature, that would come under the warm embrace of the Williams. I chuckled when I thought of Joseph’s concern about Vietnamese food. He was a worrier, no doubt about that, but I suspected he’d love the food.

I went to the inn’s restaurant on the ground floor and lucked out getting a window table. As I ate my warm baby spinach salad, and tender prime rib I was able to watch the sunset over the Pacific. I had enjoyed my day immensely—and I’ve got to admit, I was proud of having helped Joseph—and as much as I missed Sam and Jorge this little sojourn was doing me a world of good. The discomfiture that I’d been feeling for the last couple of weeks was evaporating.

Back in my room, feeling satiated, I watched television, mindlessly channel surfing (isn’t that a wonderful luxury?) while I waited for Sam’s call.

The first call was a goodnight called from both my boys. Jorge sounded tired but said that he and Gregory had a lot of fun. “We swam in the ocean, Papi! And Papa made us hot dogs for supper!”

“Did you talk to Joseph?” asked Sam. “How’s he doing?”

“Really good!” I outlined what Joseph had told me about the police interview and how well the Williams were treating him. I wanted to tell Sam about Joseph ‘sort of’ coming out to me but I thought that would be a violation of Joseph’s trust. I was torn, on one hand I didn’t want to betray Joseph’s confidence, but on the other hand, I didn’t like keeping secrets from my husband. When in doubt, do nothing, so I kept quiet.

“That’s great, Nicky, he trusts you. Listen, we gotta have him down for a weekend soon. As soon as he can travel. I checked and there’s a direct flight from Monterey to San Diego. We’d be good role models for him!”

“Yeah, I don’t think the Williams will have a problem with that. Joseph’s a good kid, Sam. I’m glad I was the one to find him.”

“He’s one lucky kid, Nicky. And you’re one amazing guy! I love you my sexy Frenchman!”

“Love you too! Call later—soon—I’m gonna do naughty things to you.”

“Stop! Or I’ll be in no condition to get Jorge to bed,” Sam laughed.

Later, Sam called and said he had a confession.

“What is it?” I asked, a little alarmed.

“I bought a Fleshlight...for our, um, play....”

“No!” And I quickly added (before Sam got the impression I disapproved), “That’s so fucking sexy! Tell me what you’re doing with it!”

“Well, I’ve got a jumbo bottle of lube and I’m sitting spread eagle on the bed, facing the closet door mirrors, so I can...see myself....”

“Tell me what you see!”

Damn, my orgasm was intense that night.

The next day Leslie started his class. The two women from San Francisco could only be described as spoiled, rich princesses. They treated Leslie like he was a servant, and didn’t deign to talk to me and the other participant. Surprisingly, Leslie took their treatment without objection, but grimaced and winked at me when his back was turned from them.

My first impression of the woman from Santa Fe, Marlene, was that she was a serious artist and there to learn. She said she shared a gallery on Canyon Road with two other artists—one a painter and one a weaver. From what she described—an old, small, adobe cottage—it sounded idyllic.

Leslie was teaching us advanced techniques for throwing open pots and even stretching them out to be delicate bowls. He had amazing hands and used very few tools. Just a sponge and different shaped metal and wooden ribs. He was clay’s answer to a virtuoso. He could tease amazing shapes from the clay and make it almost paper thin without tearing.

As expected, the San Francisco mavens didn’t take the lesson very seriously and even left for an early lunch. They wore rubber gloves to protect their delicate hands and perfect manicures. What posers!

Leslie made it all look so easy, but both Marlene and I had trouble throwing wider pots. Thank goodness Leslie was patient and encouraging. I could have used a little less arm and back touching though. At one point he whispered encouragement right in my ear; I was so flustered I broke through the clay and ruined what I was doing. He just laughed at me. I think he was more harmless tease than serious lecher.

Overall I enjoyed the three day workshop immensely. I learned a lot from Leslie. Not just the technical aspects of throwing pots, but how to transform a ‘planned’ pot into a work of art by using wooden ribs and fingers to give it a distinct shape.

The time flew by. On the last night Leslie, Marlene and I went out to dinner together. The San Francisco girls headed home. They didn’t seemed too enthusiastic about the course, buy hey, you get out of it what you put into it. And Marlene and I were thrilled with what we were taking away. I could hardly wait to get to my wheel back at home.

Leslie was effusive with his approbation. Something I took great pride in, because he didn’t strike me as being the kind of person who would give false praise.

I headed out early the next morning and drove straight down to Monterey with only a couple of quick refreshment breaks. I got there in the early afternoon. The Williams greeted me warmly. I got a firm handshake from the Colonel and a hug from Amy. Joseph’s greeting was more reserved. He was acting shy and uncertain, something that didn’t surprise me given his admission to me on the phone a few days earlier. I stepped up and gave him a careful hug and was rewarded with a smile.

The Colonel said, “We got ourselves a fine, fine boy here! Such a pleasure to have him with us! And such a help! Amy appreciates the help in the kitchen. And so respectful! I’m groomin’ him for the Airforce!”

“I’m teaching him to cook Vietnamese,” said Amy.

“It’s really good!” declared Joseph.

“Hey, what about fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy?” said the Colonel.

“American food. Unhealthy!” declared Amy. Everyone laughed. It was a practiced, good-hearted routine.

Joseph’s ribs were healing well. He’d be starting school within the week. The Colonel had already introduced him to some of his friends’ grandchildren who would be in the same school; maybe even the same grade. I got the impression that those meetings went fairly well. Joseph shrugged and said, “Good,” when I asked him about them. Given Joseph’s somewhat reticent nature I thought that was about as positive as I could hope for.

Joseph and I didn’t get a chance for a private chat, but he seemed relaxed and comfortable around the Williams. Perhaps he’d stop worrying.

I discussed the possibility of Joseph coming down to San Diego in a couple of weeks for the weekend. The Williams thought that was a wonderful idea.

The Colonel said, “Sam Kozistsky. Fine man. Fine soldier. And your little boy? I understand he’s a real fine little man too?”

“Just like his Papa,” I said. “Sam’s determined to turn him into a SEAL.”

“Well, you tell Sam to keep his clutches off Joseph here. He’s gonna be airforce. Right Joseph?”

“Yes sir!” responded Joseph with a salute.

I decided to make a run straight home the next day. It took over eight hours with stops, but I was eager to see my boys.

They’d made a “Welcome Home Papi” sign for me, and after a quick hug and kiss from Sam, he passed Jorge to me who gave me a real bear hug. He clung to me like I was a life raft, which brought tears to my eyes. Subconsciously I had thought Sam was his favorite parent, but it was clear from that hug that I was equally as important. Note to self: Stop being insecure.

Jorge’s excitement at my arrival caused him to be very talkative, and I heard in great detail, about the activities of the previous few days. Several time he turned to Sam to ask for clarification. “Then what did we do, Papa?....Right Papa?”

I gave Jorge the stuffed whale, and he loved it. He obviously wasn’t expecting a gift, and his eyes got big when he saw it; he knew what a whale was. We suggested he name it, and he deferred to Sam. “What’s his name, Papa?”

“How about Kali? Does that sound good?”

“Kah-lee,” repeated Jorge.

“Do you think Monkey is going to like his new friend Kali?” I asked. Jorge ran off to get Monkey.

“Look, Papi! They’re friends like me and Gregory!”

I gave Sam his present then. It was a t-shirt emblazoned with “Mendocino, California WORLD’S GREATEST DAD.” That brought tears to the big softy’s eyes, and I got a big hug and kiss.

I felt amazingly relaxed after my little adventure, and I was so glad to have a naked Sam to myself that night in bed. Phone sex is fun, but there’s nothing like the real thing. Especially when the real thing is Sam. He was clearly glad to have me home. We’d gone to bed about ten, but we stayed active until well after midnight. Was that three or four orgasms? Who’s counting? (The Fleshlight didn’t make an appearance; I wondered where Sam had hidden it.)

I was glad to get back to my San Diego ‘family man’ routine. I had my men. I had a new friend, Darlene. And I had time to practice some of the new techniques I’d been taught by Leslie. I thought my painting was improving as well. I’ve always been prone to more ‘abstract’ canvasses, and I was getting bolder. One that I had taken over to the gallery sold in two days!

Sam and I spoke on the phone regularly with Joseph. He was thriving under the care of the Williams, seemed to be enjoying his new school, and had even made a friend. A boy, LeShawn, who like Joseph, was into art. The Colonel and Mrs. Williams had bought him some ‘totally rad’ clothes which seemed to be a confidence booster. As much as teenagers want to be cool and unique it is very important for kids to dress like their peers (or a desired subset thereof). You can live or die on the brand of sneaker you wear.

It was during this tranquil period that I received some very distressing news. Sandy called to say that the autopsy on Tony Solan revealed that he had a benign frontal lobe brain tumour. A Grade 2 Glioma. Something that would have certainly caused Tony’s behavioural changes. Researching it on the net I discovered that it would have been treatable. What would have happened if I’d urged Tony to get medical help instead of running away? Why didn’t Alain Bourse or his family help him? Perhaps aggressive behaviour is seen as ‘normal’ in a mob family? All in all, a tragic situation. And, no, that news didn’t make me feel guilty about shooting him. He had become a cruel killer who was threatening my husband. End of story.

Joseph was arriving for a visit that Friday. Jorge had been prepped that he had a new “brother” but was a little confused as to exactly what that meant. He pronounced Joseph’s name as ‘Ho-sef.’

Jorge and I would meet Joseph at the airport. Unfortunately Sam had to work that evening, but would be home by the time we got back from the airport.

Joseph came into the arrivals area looking good. His facial bruises had cleared up, and he walked comfortably carrying a backpack. He was dressed in slim fit jeans, high-top runners and a golf shirt. His long hair had been trimmed and he was now wearing it brushed back like mine. This was one good looking kid! He gave me a big hug and said hello to Jorge who was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide behind my leg. The first thing he did was put his backpack on the floor, opened it, and fished out a little dinosaur toy which he handed to Jorge. Jorge accepted it with a small shy smile. I reminded him to say ‘thank you,’ which he did, then he retreated behind my leg again.

On the way home from the airport I asked Joseph about his flight. He was excited because this had been his first plane ride. He told me it was ‘awesome’ and that he wasn’t scared at all, even for take-off and landing. He said the flight attendant even gave him a glass of coke! We didn’t have time for much talk, because the airport is only a few minutes from our house.

Sam’s truck was there when we got back. He came bounding out of the house, blew me a kiss and went to the passenger door of my Yukon to greet Joseph. He introduced himself to Joseph before I had a chance to, and once Joseph was disembarked from the truck he shook his hand and gave him one of those military man hugs. “Nick, you didn’t tell me how handsome Joseph is!” Joseph blushed scarlet.

That all happened very quickly as Jorge waited impatiently to be freed from his car seat, which Sam did in quick order after greeting Joseph.

Joseph had kept hold of his pack in the front seat so he dragged that out and we all trooped into the house. I showed Joseph the guest room and bathroom and told him to join us in the kitchen when he was ready.

A few minutes later he came out with two small tissue wrapped gifts which he gave to Sam and me. Sam’s was a keychain with a small old fashioned boat’s wheel, and mine was a keychain with a miniature lighthouse. It struck us that a lot of care had gone into selecting those gifts and we were very touched. He got major hugs and effusive thanks.

The gifts made me think of spending money; I wondered then if the Williams were giving him an allowance.

Joseph took a look around the great room and out onto the patio and pool and declared the whole set up as, “Awesome!”

I served some lasagna, bread and salad at the kitchen table which we all ate enthusiastically. We told Joseph about our plans for the weekend and asked if there was anything special he’d like to do. He shrugged and replied, “No. Whatever you guys wanna do.”

Jorge didn’t say much, just kept staring at Joseph, clearly enthralled with this new, older person. I sensed a little hero worship going on.

Then he turned to Sam and said, “Um, the Colonel, um he told me to be sure and tell you ‘thank you’ for...um...helping me.”

“Joseph, it was a pleasure. The minute Nick called me, I knew you were a good kid that deserved a break. After that it was just a matter of making a couple of phone calls. Now that I’ve met you, I’m sure glad things worked out well. You know you’re part of our family now, right? Jorge’s big brother.” And Sam grabbed Joseph and gave him a real hug. After the hug I saw Joseph wipe a tear from his eye.

I had talked to the Colonel and found out that Joseph’s father had been charged with felony aggravated assault on a minor. He was looking at some serious jail time if convicted. Although it was likely he’d plead down to misdemeanor assault and end up with about a year in jail. There was also a restraining order keeping him away from Joseph. And the result of all this was that Joseph’s parents would never win back custody, although given the father’s views it seemed unlikely that they would try.

Sam got Jorge ready for bed while Joseph helped me clear up the kitchen. Sam brought Jorge out to say goodnight and Jorge asked Joseph, “Will you read to me?” Joseph looked a little surprised, but replied, “Yeah, cool.”

Once Jorge was asleep we decided a movie was in order, and we rented the new James Bond from Apple TV. We all sat on the couch and Sam reached out and hugged Joseph briefly. “You know we’re family, right? You need a hug, buddy, Nicky and me, we got lots of hugs to give, right, Nicky?”

“You bet, Sam. Any time Joseph. Hugs are free.”

Sam and I were side by side on the couch holding hands with our feet on the ottoman. Joseph had settled a few feet away from Sam, feet on the floor.

About 20 minutes into the movie Joseph scooted over close to Sam and settled in against his arm and put his feet up on the ottoman too.

The next day we all trouped down to Budweiser for a trip over to Mission Bay. Sam had bought Joseph his own life vest and explained how important it was to wear it at all times. He also explained what to do should Joseph find himself in the water unexpectedly. Sam was all business, and Joseph way paying rapt attention.

Then Sam had Joseph participate in preparing the boat to leave. Checking the bilges, engine oil and so forth. Once we were safely away from the dock, but still moving slowly, Sam got Joseph to take the wheel under close supervision. Sam was calmly giving a nervous Joseph instructions, and Joseph was clearly thrilled.

Sam took over the wheel again when he opened the throttle out past Cabrillo Point. But Joseph didn’t leave his side as he watched Sam attentively.

Once we were anchored and prepared to swim, Joseph seemed a little reluctant and we realized that Joseph didn’t know how to swim. So Joseph wore his life vest into the water. Jorge took it upon himself to become Joseph’s swimming instructor, and Joseph went along good-naturedly. It took Jorge a few minutes to convince Joseph it was okay to put his head underwater, but Joseph finally succumbed to Jorge’s entreaties. All in all, it was a fun, relaxing day as Joseph integrated himself into our little circle.

We barbecued steaks that night out on the deck. Jorge conked out by 7pm, and by 8 Joseph was flagging. He gave us both goodnight hugs and disappeared into the guest room. Sam and I sat on deckchairs enjoying one last glass of wine before heading in for an early night ourselves.

Sam had traded days off to spend the Saturday with us, but he had to work again on Sunday. He didn’t leave the house until nearly 10, so we had some morning time together. I had taken care of Jorge’s morning routine, and when I came into the great room Joseph and Sam were having a little tête-à-tête. Interesting....

Joseph, Jorge and I went on a sightseeing tour. We went to Cabrillo National Monument to see the views of San Diego and the ocean and took a tour of the old lighthouse. After that we went up to see the seals at La Jolla cove. Joseph was very attentive to Jorge, taking his hand, pointing out the sights. Jorge was in heaven from all the attention from his ‘cool’ older brother. Then it was home for a relaxing afternoon at the pool before Joseph took the 6pm plane back to Monterey Airport.

I called the Colonel to tell him Joseph was on his way home, and the Colonel had some news for me. Wendy had found out from the district attorney that Joseph’s father’s ‘defense’ was that it was his parental duty to cure Joseph of the evils of homosexuality. The stupid man had only dug himself into a deeper hole and was now charged with a hate crime on top of the assault. The DA didn’t tell Wendy what had triggered the assault—and from our point of view the story was Joseph’s to tell, if he chose to.

To the Colonel’s credit he expressed only sympathy toward Joseph, reiterating that what Joseph needed was a good, loving home. One that didn’t condemn a person for being different. “Lord knows,” he said, “I’ve experienced a lot of discrimination in my lifetime. I just hope that crazy father of his hasn’t screwed up that poor boy’s head. And it’s real good that he has you and Sam as positive role models. If we all pitch in that boy’s gonna turn out to be a fine adult.”

I’d given Joseph strict instructions to call me when he’d arrived home, which he did at about 8pm.

Once again, Joseph had loved the flight. “Maybe I could be a pilot, Nick?”

Then he told me about his conversation with Sam that morning. “Um...I kinda told Sam about me...uh...maybe...um...liking guys.”

“Oh, that’s great, I think... How did it go?”

“Well, Sam was real nice. He said that him and you...uh...loved me like a son...and...well, if I ever needed help or advice...or just to talk...that he and you would be there for me.”

“Joseph, we do both think of you as a son. And I agree with Sam. We do love you like a son. What we want most is for you to be safe and happy. And I think you’ll find that Colonel and Mrs. Williams feel the same way.”

“Um...Nick...I think I might have a boyfriend....”

Oh shit.

Copyright © 2016 Zenith; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

A really nice chapter, the pacing was good and it moved the story along in several areas. I really enjoyed the pottery section, I have no talent in that area but I do think the thrown pots are really special when done right.

 

Glad to see that Joseph is going to have a group around him that is supportive and willing to help. The father has done some damage but hopefully it will be repaired by the others.

 

Keep up the good work...

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On 04/12/2016 05:07 AM, centexhairysub said:

A really nice chapter, the pacing was good and it moved the story along in several areas. I really enjoyed the pottery section, I have no talent in that area but I do think the thrown pots are really special when done right.

 

Glad to see that Joseph is going to have a group around him that is supportive and willing to help. The father has done some damage but hopefully it will be repaired by the others.

 

Keep up the good work...

Thanks, CHS, for you kind comments and insights. I'm playing around with 2 themes at the moment: creativity and family (the less conventional ones--and the question of whether good nurturing can overcome a bad experience).

Always a pleasure to get your feedback!

Z

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