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Alone With Myself: The Director's Cut
Chapter Eleven

©1999-2004, WriteByMyself, All Rights Reserved.
Any duplication, in whole or in part, is expressly prohibited without the written consent of the author.
REVISION DATE:
16 April 2004

You cannot distribute this story, print it for publication, put it on another web site, display this story, nor publish it anywhere without the express written consent and permission of the author. Verbal permission is not valid. You should read the introductory chapter for the full disclaimer. By reading this chapter, you acknowledge you have read the full disclaimer.

 

 

"How was your day, boys?" asked Amanda.

"It was brilliant! It's such a wonderful place. I wish I could live here. I don't know how anybody could be homesick here; living here would make you forget wherever it is you're really from."

"A ringing endorsement to be sure," grumbled Eric, clearly meaning his words as a less than complimentary statement.

The boys related their day almost in its entirety, their youthful exuberance evident, breaking an otherwise sombre evening.

As the meal wound to a close, Amanda produced dessert, a home-baked cherry pie. Alex loved pie, but cherry pie especially, she knew. "I've baked a cherry pie, boys!" she exclaimed, hoping for a good reaction. She was not disappointed.

As the pie made a quick exit from the world, the boys grew silent as the reality of tomorrow's events begin to weigh on them. The meal concluded, Amanda began to clear the table as Eric left to watch television. The boys helped Amanda by gathering the dishes, Alex and Nicky in silence as they contemplated tomorrow. Amanda merrily chatted away, oblivious to the boys' internal turmoil. The task done, the two boys left and headed upstairs.

The phone rang and Amanda answered it. "Alex, honey, phone!" she shouted from the kitchen. "It's Delos."

The boys were already halfway up the stairs as she shouted. "OK, Mom! I'll get it." replied Alex as he went back downstairs to get the phone. Nicky followed.

"Hey, Delos, what's up?"

"Not much. I called to see how things were with you. I saw all about you on TV and shit. I figured I'd give you a day or two before I called. I was hoping you'd have called me by now. Anyway, I just can't take it anymore. You have got to spill it."

"Listen, do you think it could wait until tomorrow night? My friend Nicky is here. He's leaving sometime tomorrow. I'll probably need something to distract me after he goes. You know how it's been around here since I got back." Alex worded everything carefully. Being in the kitchen, he knew both his mother and Nicky could overhear him, which made him uncomfortable.

"Yeah, cool beans. I'll call you after dinner and maybe we can hook up then, or at least you'll fill me in on the phone. Maybe you'll tell me who Nicky is too?"

"Yeah, sure. No problem. Great! I'll talk to you tomorrow." Alex hung up the phone. He was excited about seeing Delos, but it was entirely mitigated by his current situation with Nicky.

"Mom, I'm going to visit Delos tomorrow after Nicky leaves."

"That's fine, dear."

"We're going back upstairs now."

"That's fine, dear."

"Come on, Nicky. Let's go upstairs."

"OK, whatever you say. You're the boss," said Nicky with an uneven tenor to his voice. Nicky was clearly agitated. It was obvious enough that even Alex noticed.

Nicky followed Alex; they went into Alex's room and sat down by the computer. Alex turned on his Macintosh while Nicky sank into a chair and watched. Alex tried concentrating on the computer, but his emotions were at war with him, trying to escape despite his best efforts to keep them bottled up. "Nicky, I can tell you're bothered. Don't worry. I'm sure your dad won't really kill you."

"You're wrong though. He will. He won't have a choice." But, that isn't what's bothering me, thought Nicky to himself.

"Everyone has a choice. Even a king," replied Alex, spinning his chair around to face Nicky.

"You don't really believe that line of bullshit, do you?"

"Yeah, actually, I do. Even doing nothing is a choice."

"Many times, kings have very little choice. Their power is illusory, it's really an almost complete loss of power. They are restrained by custom, tradition, culture, and the very ceremonies which keep them in power. The saying about the heavy mantle of power is very true. I don't know what we're going to do with you to make you understand, Alex," said Nicky, a blank look on his face. He quickly changed the subject, "So, who's Delos?"

Alex was stopped short by the question. He wasn't sure if this new question was less difficult for him than the original situation. Still, he was relived to be able to talk about something else. Anything else. Besides, there's no stopping it now. "Delos is this girl I've known for a few years. She's nice to me, notices I'm alive, and she's kind and gentle and, more importantly, doesn't treat me like some invisible pile of shit."

"Is she your girlfriend?" asked Nicky with a sad look on his face.

"No, I don't think so," replied Alex without even a pause.

Nicky looked a bit relieved. "Is she a good friend?"

"Well, I suppose she's the best friend I've ever had. But, before you take that wrong, calling someone my best friend doesn't say much. I haven't had many friends."

"Do you trust her?"

"More than the other people I know, but not completely. I don't trust anyone completely." Alex thought a moment. "I think I trust you more than anyone I've ever met. Isn't that stupid?"

"No, of course not! I think that's grand!" replied Nicky, brightening a bit.

"So," said Alex changing the subject back to forestall any further questioning about Delos, "if you're so sure your father's going to kill you, why are you here waiting for him to come and find you?"

"Alex, there's no easy way to say this. If I can't be with you, I don't want to live."

Fuck. That's deep. I wonder what he means by that. I mean, I know what he means, but how does he mean it? "Wow! That's really flattering. I don't know what to say." It makes me fucking uncomfortable is what it makes me. Alex showed no visible reaction, but inside his stomach knotted even more tightly.

"Does it bother you that I feel that way?" inquired Nicky, wondering how this drastic statement was received.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, oh, fuck. Yes. It makes me uncomfortable. But, I mean.... No. Wait. I'm not saying this right." Alex took a deep breath and started over, realizing his disjointed words made no sense. "Yes, it bothers me. But, it's not you specifically. It bothers me that anyone feels that way about me."

"Is it worse because I think it?"

"No," said Alex not believing himself entirely.

"You don't sound so sure," said Nicky, almost saying it as though it were a question. Nicky's eyes were darting about, unable to focus on Alex. Nicky was in turmoil. His emotions for Alex clearly were not reciprocated in the way he wanted, but he didn't know how to discuss it. He wasn't even sure how to verbalize it.

"Nicky, you're a guy. You're not supposed to feel that way about me. It just doesn't work that way, you know?" Alex knew, though. Not in any way he could express verbally, but he felt it inside. He understood. Completely.

"Why not, Alex?" demanded Nicky.

How the fuck am I supposed to answer that? "Damned if I know. I don't know that it makes any sense. Isn't that what you've been taught your whole life?"

"No, it isn't," said Nicky matter-of-factly. "I was taught that whatever emotion you feel is valid."

"You're not making this easy on me, Nicky."

"I wasn't trying to make it easy on you. That's not how it works in real life. Don't you know that real life is complicated? Don't you understand people don't always say what you want, act how you want, or do what you want?" said Nicky, his voice rising with irritation.

"This is really complicated. I mean, maybe not for you, Nicky. You're so confident. With me, everything is complicated. Especially when it comes to you." Alex was sweating profusely from his discomfort. Even the most obtuse observer would have seen that this was a conversation between two unhappy people.

"Why? You know there are different kinds of relationships people have. Strong emotions can be terribly confusing to almost anyone. Don't feel out of sorts because of that. Sometimes you just know another person is a part of you, and you want that part to feel it. It doesn't necessarily include sexual feelings. There's more than one kind of love; there's love and then there's Love. Agape and Eros if you know those two words. There's even a third kind, Philia but that's not what I'm talking about."

"Yes, I know those words. I'm not an idiot, you know."

"That's not what I was trying to imply, and you know it," Nicky said, noticeably aggravated. "I'm trying to point out that some people can't separate Agape and Eros because they don't realize they aren't the same. At some point in your life you realize they aren't the same. Intellectually you know it, but emotionally you may not have figured it out yet."

"Great, you've given me this whole lecture. What's the point of it?" Alex got up and began to pace back and forth. After a few seconds, he tired of pacing and lay down on the floor. That didn't satisfy him either. The entire time, Nicky didn't rise from his chair, sinking lower and lower until he seemed to become a part of it.

"Alex, I'm surprised you didn't figure that out. The point is, quite simply, you need to figure out what you're feeling. After you do, it's not complicated. It really doesn't matter what you're feeling, just that you know what it is. You're not confused by the emotion, but rather confused by the fact you don't know what you're feeling."

"You know, this might be the most intense and deep conversation I've had with anyone."

"And how does it make you feel?"

"Confused. Well, a lot less confused about what I'm supposed to do, and a lot more confused about what I'm feeling. I'm going to tell you something. I think I'm afraid to try and figure out what I'm feeling."

"Why? You think you might not like what you find?"

"Yeah," said Alex in a barely audible whisper.

"Alex, look at me for a minute," said Nicky. Alex looked at Nicky as Nicky made direct eye contact before continuing, "Don't ever fear that. You feel what you feel. Don't try to pretend it's something else. You will become a very, very unhappy person if you try and pretend you're feeling something you aren't."

"I'm already a very unhappy person," said Alex in the same imperceptible whisper. "At least I was until I found you. Now I'm confused but a little happier than I was."

"Thanks. I'm pretty sure that was a compliment," said Nicky, a small smile crossing his face, noticing Alex didn't say why he was a little happier. Nicky decided it would be overly intrusive to inquire right now.

"I think it was. I mean, I meant it as one. Listen, I'm tired. I want to try to go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a miserable day."

"You think?" said Nicky sarcastically. "Your day will be normal as possible. My day will involve returning to England with my dad to face execution."

Alex felt paralyzed. Yes, he knew this was what was supposedly going to happen. But, to hear it so bluntly hurt him. "We can't let it happen. We just can't. I hope by the time we wake up, we'll have thought of something." Alex's breathing was laboured; he felt like he was suffocating. He wanted to cry, but he knew he couldn't let himself. He wanted to be claimed by sleep so he could forget all of this, even for a few moments.

"Not bloody likely. Not bloody likely. I'm for the shower, Alex. I'll be out in a flash." Nicky dashed off to the shower. True to his word, he was back in about ten minutes wearing nothing but a towel.

Alex was terribly uncomfortable with a nearly naked person in his room. He finally broke the resulting silence by saying, "Listen, Nicky, I'm going to shower now. That'll give you time to change." Nicky got an odd look on his face as Alex left.

Nicky changed into his night clothes, while Alex showered. While waiting, Nicky thought of any way that tomorrow's imminent disaster might end pleasantly. Unfortunately, none of the scenarios playing out in his mind yielded anything satisfactory. The reality that this was their last night together, and that Nicky would quite probably be dead in two days weighed heavily on Nicky's mind as well as on Alex's.

Alex soon returned, fully dressed in his pyjamas. There was an interminable silence in the room as Alex turned his computer back off, unused. They went to their respective beds, and got under the covers. Alex turned out the light, and lay there thinking he would die of suffocation.

"You know what love is, Alex?" asked Nicky trying to resume the conversation after a few moments of lying in the dark.

"Of course I do," replied Alex with far more confidence than he felt.

"Let me ask that differently. Almost everyone knows what love is. Most people don't understand it. Think of everyone you know. What if any one of them needed a kidney and you only had one kidney left, but it was the only match for them in the world -- is there any of them you would give that kidney up for, knowing you were going to die as a result?"

Alex didn't immediately answer, gritting his teeth, "That's my real problem Nicky. I don't love anyone that way."

"Do you have a heart of stone? If so, that's pretty sad. Turn off that brain that makes you think so damned much and let your emotions get involved a little."

"It's not that at all. I just don't love anyone that much. Maybe I just haven't met that person yet." Or, maybe I have, and I just don't want to admit it. I very well might give it to Nicky. Oh, what the fuck will I do? He's leaving tomorrow.

"Perhaps you have, and you just don't know it?" asked Nicky with a mischievous grin, though in the darkness it was visible to no one.

"Maybe so," said Alex, as noncommittally as he could. He decided to change the subject. "Do you want to try and do something tomorrow before you have to go?" Alex did anything to avoid dealing with the looming judgment-day which tomorrow would bring. Waves of fear coursed through his body. If fear were a scent, it could have been smelled for miles. Alex was terrified, but he was so used to keeping it in, he went on with life as though little or nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Yes, I suppose. No sense in staying around and brooding about it all day. That wouldn't be productive at all."

"I gotta ask you a stupid question. How do I contact you? Can I write you? E-mail you? Is there any way for me to get in touch with you?" he asked meekly, knowing the answer that was to come. He had to ask anyway.

"What the hell would it matter? You could write me in care of the bloody cemetery, I suppose," raged Nicky, too loudly for their close proximity. He stopped, took a deep breath, and continued more softly. "Even so, there's no way to write me or contact me except through my father. You can see that's not the best idea."

He must not really want me to call or write. I can't imagine he'll really be dead soon. Damn. Alex did the only thing he knew how to do. He pretended the problem didn't exist and withdrew into himself. "All right, then. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"'Night, Alex," muttered Nicky in reply, none too happy about the abrupt end to their conversation.

•••••••••

Morning came, like most any other morning. Only this morning felt different to each of the two friends. To Alex, it was a morning of sorrow because this was the end of his friendship with Nicky. He didn't see any other outcome. To Nicky, it was a morning of dread. He would meet his father, and it would be in failure. Yes, dying bothered him, but not as much as losing Alex. Running wasn't an option. Not for him. He was too proud.

The usual morning breakfast smells went through the kitchen, wafting up to the room above. The pleasant odours were enticing, leading the young men towards the kitchen. An outside observer would note this was much like a bit of cheese leads a mouse to a mouse-trap.

Eric was conspicuously absent from the house, having made an early departure for work. Amanda had made some scrambled eggs and bacon which, true to form, were delectable. The moment was special because it was their last together and at the same time it was ordinary because it was nothing more and nothing less than a simple meal. Emotions were mixed and the air was tight with tension.

"What have you boys got planned for today?"

After a noticeable silence, Alex decided to speak up to prevent his mother from making a suggestion which would be silly or embarrassing. He wanted to spend this time alone with Nicky, or at least as alone as you could be in public. "We're going to walk over to the bookstore, and then maybe over to Tower after that for some CD's. Nicky's got to stock up for the flight home," said Alex through clenched teeth, the thought of Nicky's return hurting him.

Breakfast was otherwise uneventful, and filled with the usual trivial conversations that oft times fill breakfasts the world over. As it concluded, Alex helped his mother clean, as was expected of him, while Nicky excused himself to go get ready.

"So, dear, he seems like a nice boy. Are you going to correspond with him after he goes back?"

"I don't think it's possible," said Alex. Then he realized that would result in a question that defied an answer. "I mean, his father is terribly strict. I don't know if he'll allow it."

"I'll have your father speak to his father, and see if he can't work something out."

"Oh, that's a grand idea," said Alex emphasizing his words carefully. "Dad hates him. It's obvious. He doesn't like anyone."

"Don't take that sarcastic tone with me, young man. Your father works hard, but he cares for you even if he doesn't have time to show it."

Yeah, right, thought Alex, knowing better than to vocalize his opinions on that count. "Sorry, Mom, I'm just a little nervous about tonight. That's all."

"That's, ok. Why don't you run along, and I'll finish up in here. Just this one time, mind you."

"Thanks, Mom, you're the best!" exclaimed Alex, as he raced out the door, and up the stairs to his room, opening the door.

As he entered his room, he noticed Nicky was getting dressed and wasn't wearing any clothes. "Oh, man, sorry," he said, turning around as quickly as he could and shutting the door again in case his mother walked by.

"No big deal, really," said Nicky whilst putting on his pants.

"Obviously," replied Alex, unable to stop himself from making the off-colour rejoinder.

"Oh, a bleeding smart-arse. 'Cor, just what we need."

"Can I turn around, now?"

"You didn't have to turn away to begin with. But if it bothers you, just give me one more second. I'm almost done," said Nicky.

Alex noticed an odd tone to Nicky's voice, but he couldn't place it. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, and spun him around, flinging him to his bed. Then he felt ten fingers grabbing at his stomach, tickling him mercilessly. He was laughing, and trying to breathe, but not having much success with the latter.

"Stop! Please! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Stop! AHAHAHAHAHA! Stop! I'm going to piss my pants! Stop! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Alex protested among his gasps for breath.

Finally Nicky stopped. "And that, sir, is what we do to your kind where I come from," he said, humourously.

Alex sat there and wheezed, looking mostly amused, very red, entirely out-of breath, and slightly uncomfortable. "Wow. What was that about?"

"Retribution for your unwarranted, unprovoked, vitriolic attack on my manhood," said Nicky, mirthfully.

"I didn't see anything, really," said Alex. Nicky's eyebrows rose. "No! I mean, that I couldn't see anything from my angle. I didn't mean there was nothing to see."

"Calm down. I knew what you meant. I was just giving you a hard time, if you'll forgive my choice of words."

"So, Nicky, what was that all about?"

"Just having fun. Besides, I wanted to do that." Though he didn't realize it, the brief, light moment had relieved the tension considerably.

Alex decided to leave further discussion alone. He knew there was a long, complicated conversation in there. He didn't want to have that conversation now. It would just bring the tension back. Besides, it was going to be a irrelevant later this evening. "All right, then. Let's walk over to Tower." Alex began to get depressed, thinking of the coming evening's unwelcome end.

"Ok! I'm ready," said Nicky, clearly in better spirits than Alex.

Alex led, and Nicky followed down the stairs. "Mom, we're leaving now. We'll be back later."

"Before five, Alex."

"Okay," he replied, and opened the front door. "Come on, Nicky. It's not a long walk. We'll go to Tower and then there's a Borders down the block from that. We can have lunch when we're done, if you want."

"Sounds like a plan."

They walked in silence. It wasn't far, maybe a mile or so. Normally, Alex would have taken his bike. But, since there were two of them and only one bike, walking was the only choice. The weather was perfect, and the walk was pleasant. They came to the Tower Records store, and went in.

"I'll buy you a CD if you want, Nicky," offered Alex tentatively. It was more of a question than a statement.

"I don't have a CD player or any electronics. Didn't you notice that?"

"Oh. Sorry. Why are we here then?" asked Alex dejectedly, his face reflecting his disappointment.

"Well, I can listen to music. I just don't have use for any of this. I'm sure when we get to the bookstore, I'll be able to find something if you feel that strongly," stated Nicky, noticing Alex's disappointment.

They spent their time wandering around the store, listening to CDs at the listening stations that were set up. They looked at the albums. They pointed out songs to each other that they liked, trying to find common ones they both liked. There wasn't much, Alex being more into ballads from rock and pop groups, while Nicky was mostly into classical. Their one point of agreement was the Beatles. While Alex preferred late Beatles and Nicky preferred early Beatles, they both liked the entire catalog, with a particular shared fondness for a few special songs such as Norwegian Wood and Yesterday.

After they tired of Tower, they exited the building and walked to the Borders. It wasn't even a half-block and they arrived there within minutes. As they entered, Nicky said "Why don't we split up and go to whatever sections interest us?"

"Sure," replied Alex, not really happy about splitting up, feeling terribly rejected. He'd much rather spend the time following Nicky around, but he didn't know how to express it without sounding totally pathetic. He wanted to be agreeable since their time together was rapidly dwindling.

Alex went off to the hobby section to see if there were any new books on coin collecting. Numismatics was something he did on the side. It wasn't a full blown hobby for him, but when he had a pocket full of change, and he thought about it, he'd go through the coins there and place some of them in his albums. He didn't so much care about the quality of the specimens as the completeness of his collection. Truth be told, he didn't even care much about that anymore. As he continued thinking, he realized he didn't care much about anything anymore. Except Nicky. The realization was enigmatic to him. He tired of the sparse section on coin collecting and went to the humour section.

He thumbed through some of the Dave Barry books which were always amusing, though the columnist's fixation with squirrels mystified him. He turned through some old Calvin and Hobbes collections. After that, he found some collections of some of his other favourite comic strips including Fox Trot, For Better or Worse, Get Fuzzy, and Zits. Although he loved Fox Trot because it was funny, there was no real connection, but parts of him really identified with the character Jeremy in the strip Zits. He spent more time than he realized perusing the pages.

Finally, he decided to go look at the fantasy books which would invariably, and incorrectly, be filed in the science-fiction section. He headed towards the section, which in this Borders, was rather large. Something hit him in the back of the head.

"OW!" he yelled, too loudly, drawing attention to himself from nearby patrons, as he spun around to see who or what had hit him.

It was Nicky, who wore a shit-eating grin as he lowered his hand. "Scared you, didn't I? I'm just done looking at their music section and going over to look at fantasy books. Where are you headed?"

"Same place, dipshit," said Alex, rubbing his head where Nicky had thwacked him. It didn't really hurt, but there was no sense in letting Nicky know that.

They walked slowly through the aisles, stopping often. One of them would see a book of interest and show it to the other. They spent a long time doing this and found it satisfying because, at least here, they had a great deal in common. Finally they reached the last aisle.

Having nowhere else to go, Nicky looked Alex right in the eyes, staring at him as if he had something of monumental importance to say. Alex caught the look and returned the eye contact, wondering, and hoping that Nicky had figured out a way to stay. "Alex?"

"Yes, Nicky?"

"I'm hungry. Let's have lunch," said Nicky, his expression completely changing just before he spoke.

Alex was once again hurt, but made no outward sign of it. "Sure. What do you want?"

"What's around here?"

"There's a Red Robin, but I'd chew glass before I ate there. We've got a Pizza Hut, of course. There's a BK Lounge, a Mickey D's, a Wendy's, a Jack in the Box, and a Carl's Jr."

"What're the last two?"

"Oh, right. They're west coast chains. Jack in the Box is just like Mickey D's, really. I'm not a big fan. Carl's Jr. is better, though Wendy's is better than the lot."

"You decide."

"You're the guest. You decide."

"Pick Jack or Carl, since I can't have those back home."

"You're the boss," said Alex, directing Nicky to follow along as he walked down the street. "We'll eat at Carl's then."

They got there in short order, went in, and ordered. It was a typical meal that teens all over America eat. Alex was wildly indifferent to his burger, fries, and shake, but Nicky was impressed. "This is so cool."

"Cool? Here?"

"Yeah, there's so much more food here. I mean, the servings are larger, they cost less, and the food tastes different."

"Yeah, I noticed that too. I mean, about the taste. Your fast food places over there aren't even as fast. You guys can't do anything right. Anyway, I'm glad you like it. Never let it be said that I didn't take you to a fine dining establishment," replied Alex, his voice laced with both sarcasm and black humour.

They finished their meal, and cleared their table. "Well I guess it's back home, Nicky."

"Come on, then. Let's go. Time to confront the future."

Alex didn't remark on Nicky's odd choice of words. They walked home in total silence. Nary a word passed between them. Finally, they arrived at Alex's home. Alex noted a strange car in the driveway, but didn't pay it much attention. His mother must be having company.

Nicky followed Alex up the stairs. Alex fumbled for his keys, unlocked the door, and dropped his keys back in his pocket. He opened the door, at the same time yelling, "Mom, we're home."

"Come in to the dining room, boys," shouted Amanda.

They walked in to the dining room, but were unprepared for what they saw.

"Shit," said Alex.

"Fuck," said Nicky.

They both froze in place, their jaws dropping enough to be noticeable. In any other situation it would have been funny. Fear and terror momentarily paralyzed them.

"Watch your language, son," said King Vonamoor.

"Boys! I will not have that language in my house," protested Amanda.

"Sorry, Mom," said Alex.

"Sod off, Dad," said Nicky.

Nicky's father said nothing but his face grew visibly redder. Had his son not already been condemned to death, this would be enough to finish it. Although the insults of a condemned man meant nothing, it still hurt to hear it from his son. This made his anger worse. He paused a moment to compose himself.

"Mrs. Maitland, I apologize for my son. Clearly his manners and upbringing have been forgotten. I am deeply ashamed. I can assure you, a proper punishment will await him when we return."

"That's between you and your son. Apology accepted if it makes you feel better." Amanda had spent the better part of the past twenty minutes speaking to Nicky's father. She knew something was odd, but she couldn't quite figure out what. His mannerisms were somehow old, stilted, and foreign. She finally decided to pass it off as a cultural difference between the Americans and the British.

"Now, about that reward I promised your husband."

"Don't be silly. We simply won't accept it. It won't do. Not at all," she said, pronouncing 'at all' as one word. "Instead we'd like you to allow Nicky and Alex to continue to communicate."

"That simply won't be possible," said King Vonamoor, shocked at the audacity of this woman, but not willing to blow his cover story to give her the lecture she so richly deserved.

"And why not, Mr. Vonamoor? They're boys. There's no reason they can't exchange a call or letter from time to time. Or even e-mail."

"My son doesn't have a computer. And, if he did, I can assure you we'd take it away after this. Let us just say he's going to be permanently grounded. However, in deference to your request, I promise I will discuss this with my wife as soon as I return."

Amanda knew she had been lied to because Nicky had told them that his mother was dead. She was certain something was wrong but she didn't know what. She was out of her element. "Do that, and you have her call me. We'll discuss this woman to woman. I'm sure we can work this out."

"As you will," said the King, just too shocked to deal with the situation. He had never, in all his years, been treated in such a peremptory fashion. And by a woman, no less! He heard Nicky chortling under his breath in the background, where he and Alex were still standing.

"Mrs. Maitland, we must be going. I've got an earlier flight back, and I'd like to make it. Nicky, get your things. We're leaving." He began to thank Amanda for her hospitality and again promised to send a reward plus extra to cover expenses for their time and trouble, while Amanda continued to refuse.

Alex followed Nicky up the stairs into his room. They entered his room, shutting the door behind them.

"I guess this is it," said Nicky.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I feel like I should say something, but I don't know what. It may sound trite, but I'm going to miss you. I really am." Nicky wanted to say more, but he was at a loss for words.

Alex was close to tears. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't make himself talk. He'd not cried since he was a little kid, and he wasn't planning on starting now. He was stricken with fear and sorrow. He felt it, a cold knot deep inside his stomach. I'm going to do this, because I won't go through life living with the regret I didn't. With that resolution, a momentary triumph over fear, Alex stepped forward and gave Nicky a hug.

Nicky was shocked. He stood still for a fraction of a moment, not reacting. And in that fractional moment Alex began to experience self-doubt, but before he could dwell on it, Nicky returned the hug, and a warm feeling enveloped them both. Everything felt right for that moment in time, and then it was over.

"Good luck, Alex, I hope we meet again, though I daresay that's unlikely. I'm glad we met."

"Me too," said Alex meekly, barely audible. He thought he was doing a grand job of restraining his tears. He wasn't aware that Nicky had noticed.

"Boy! Hurry it up, we've got a plane to catch. I haven't all day. What's keeping you?"

"I've got my things and will be down presently," said Nicky. He reached his hand out, and gently touched his forefinger to Alex's cheek before walking out the door with a "Goodbye, Alex. Fare thee well, my friend." He shut the door behind him, and never knew that Alex put his head into his pillow and cried uncontrollably.