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From: " +Grant. " <+Grant@grant.grant>
Newsgroups: alt.fan.prettyboy
Subject: +*+*+*+ The Adventures of Stevie #183 "Bart In Trouble" +*+*+*+
Date: 11 Aug 2011 01:38:44 -0500
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The Adventures of Stevie #183
These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
been true. LOL
My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
he isn't here in person. I think.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stevie is 14 in this story, after year 4 special school, in the Summer.
The Adventures of Stevie #183 "Bart In Trouble"
Dear Carlos,
Race was about to go home for the night, when we heard a loud banging
on the main door downstairs. I dressed in a hurry, and ported to it, to
get there before anybody else did. I could see Bart through the glass,
looking afraid for his life. I let him in, and contacted Pete and told
him about Bart, and asked if he wanted to be in on it, which he said
yes to, so I ported him to the porting room a few doors away. That took
just a few seconds. He came to the entry while Bart was still too
terrified to answer my question of what was wrong. I shook his
shoulders a little an asked again. Bart managed to squeak, "A man is
after me with a gun! I had to get away!" I said "This is important.
Does he have a handgun or a rifle?" He said "Rifle!" I said to Pete,
"Secure the gun and bring him. Show him your ID if you have to." He
went out. Bart said "He's coming HERE? I have to get out of here." I
held him and said "Stay. Hiding you won't solve the problem. He will
still be after you. We will end it here. Trust me. Isn't this why you
came here?" I contacted Race and told him to stay out of sight on the
stairs, but listen as witness. Pete contacted me and said, +I told him
the boy he was looking for is where I'm taking him. He still has the
rifle, a 30-30, with a scope.+ I said +Good. I'll take it when he comes
inside.+
Pete opened the door for the man, and the man came inside. I took his
rifle away, and disassembled it right there, in about a second, and
dropped the pieces to the floor. He stared at it, then noticed Bart,
who cringed. The man said, "You!" and he reached for him. I blasted the
man with my command voice, "FREEZE right were you are!" He stopped and
looked confused. I said "We will resolve this problem. You will
cooperate, or I will get the police involved. You have broken the law,
and in front of credible witnesses." He said "You, stay out of my
business." I said to Bart. "Isn't that what you told me before? Should
I do what you told me, and let him have you?" He said "No! Don't.
Please!" I said "Sure is different on the other side of that, isn't
it?" He nodded vigorously. I said to the man, pointing to his rifle in
pieces on the floor, "You saw what I did. I can do that to every
personal firearm made in the last 60 years. Does that tell you, you
should listen to me VERY carefully?" He nodded. I said "We will all go
to the conference room and talk this out." We did. I asked the man for
his name and address, which he gave. Then I asked why he was after Bart
with a gun. He said "Because he beat up my son." I said "For now, you
are speaking the truth. I always know when I'm being lied to. Bart,
tell me what happened between you and his son. Don't try to lie. If you
do, I just might lock you in a room with him." He told me. I said "I
want to get some things perfectly clear. I know you like to pick
fights. Did he really call you a bad name first, before you hit him?
Don't nod, say the word." He said "Yes." I said "Now, at any time in
the fight, was he able to run away if he wanted to?" He said "Yes." I
said "You have told the truth."
I asked the man "How do you know he beat up your son?" He said "He
told me." I said "Tell me everything he said." He did. I said "Now,
this calls some some reasoning. Ready? WHY do you think he told you
what he told you? Think, before you answer." He did, and I saw the
him off with, "Be civil here!" He closed his mouth. I said "You
understand. He manipulated you into taking out his cowardly revenge on
Bart. He instigated the fight with Bart, which is VERY easy to do,
which all the kids know, and he could have run away at any time,
because Bart can't even think about running, without losing his breath,
which they all know about, too. Your son manipulated you into
committing a felony, and endangering our whole community. They don't
issue hunting licenses for children this time of year. What would you
have done with that rifle if you had an opportunity at a clear shot at
him? Your son knew what could have happened; murder, and he didn't stop
you. Yes, some of the fault is Bart's. He didn't have to hit your son,
but your son willingly did something deliberately antisocial, which he
knew would cause that, which he didn't have to do, either. They had
equal blame for the standard social boy fight. Then you got involved.
Then it became serious. What do you think should be done about this
now?"
have chased after a boy, who, while he is far from being the nicest boy
in the world, didn't deserve to be terrorized by a crazy man with a
loaded rifle, and possibly hunted down like an animal and murdered. Our
community didn't deserve to be endangered by you, wandering around in
the dark, possibly shooting anything that moves. So, what should be
done about somebody who did that?" His mouth was open, but nothing came
out, not even his tongue. I said "Well?" He still didn't say anything.
I said "Call your home and tell your son to come here. Don't tell him
why. There's the phone. I will hear both sides of the conversation, no
matter how softly anybody speaks. Do it." He didn't have much choice. I
could get him arrested, and he knew it. He made the call. 3 minutes
waiting in silence you could hear a pin decide not to drop in, and Pete
let the boy in, and into the conference room where we were. I had
already told the man what to say to him, and what not to say to him. He
said to his son, "Tell these people the truth. The whole truth. Tell
them about the fight, and what you told me. I warn you, they will know
when you are lying. They proved that to me."
The boy told his story. Each time he lied, I held up one finger,
hoping I would have enough of them. He caught on near the end, and
started crying. I said to Bart, "You're closest. Hug him. Show him you
care." He looked surprised, but did as I asked, and looked more
surprised when the crying boy hugged him back, and cried on his
shoulder. Bart was REALLY surprised when he discovered he really did
care, and liked helping. I waited a little, and said to the boy, "We
know the truth of what happened. You manipulated your father into
almost killing Bart, and then going to prison for 25 years. Did you
really mean that to happen? Do you hate your father that much, even
though he loves you so much he would do that for you?" Bart said "Stop!
Leave him alone!" and he hugged him protectively. I said to Bart,
gently, "Bart, I know you mean well, but he has to know. Somebody could
have been killed today. We don't want something like that to happen
again, do we? We all have to face the consequences of our actions, or
we can never learn to be good people." I asked the boy, "Well? I'm
waiting. Your father is waiting." He said through his sobs, "I didn't
mean it. I was so mad I didn't care, and that was stupid and wrong. I
shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have started the fight. I'm really
sorry I made all this happen." I said "Are you sorry you called Bart a
bad name, knowing he would hit you? If so, tell him." He did. I said
"Are you sorry for lying to your father to make him break the law and
endanger his freedom for your revenge? If so, tell him." He did, with a
lot more crying. I said "Bart, are you sorry you punched him, when you
didn't have to? If so, tell him." He did, and with feeling. I said
"Race, come here." He did. I said "Bart, are you sorry you tried to
pick a fight with Race, making you deserve to be kicked in the nuts to
stop you? If so, tell him." Bart looked very surprised to see Race
there, but said it, and it was the truth. Race didn't have to be told
what to do next. He went to Bart and shook his hand, and hugged him.
I said to the boy's father, "You have some things to say." He said
"Bart, I'm very sorry I chased you with a gun. I was just trying to
scare you. I was wrong for a lot of reasons. That I was angry was no
excuse." He he held out his hand to Bart, who took it. Then the man
said to his son. "I'm sorry, son. I failed you as a father. I should
have asked you more closely about what happened, and not let my anger
cause something which could have taken me from you for the most
important years of your life." He hugged his son, and they cried
together. I let that go for a minute, then I said, "Now we come to what
I should do about all this." I said to the man, "Consequences. Things
must balance. Pete, please bring the barrel." He did, and handed it to
me. I took off my shirt, because it was too tight for what I thought my
muscles were going to expand to. I grabbed the barrel of the rifle
firmly at both ends, in front of me, and set myself for maximum effort.
I called up Ki from my toes all the way up my back and down my arms and
hands, and made a silent karate yell, and with all my force, I bent the
steel barrel into a tight curve, with the ends almost touching. Then I
handed it to the stunned man. I relaxed my bunched muscles, and shook
my shoulders a little to settle them down.
All their mouths were hanging open. I resisted the strong urge to
close them, and said instead, "We are done here. Do not tell anybody
anything about what has happened here, without my permission." I said
to the man, "Take Bart with you, and show him what a loving family is
like. Invite him back when he needs it. Will you?" He nodded, and shook
my hand. Pete's and Race's too. I had to remind him to take the rest of
the rifle's parts with him when he left. He had to be careful how he
held the barrel, because it was still hot in the middle from my bending
it.
Then father came down from the stairs he had been watching from. Race
had met him there, and they had introduced themselves to each other,
while they were listening to and watching what had happened. I had
heard them. Pete had a question in his eyes. I said to him, "It was
just Ki and muscle power. I didn't know if I could do it, but it felt
like the right thing to do." He said "I think you succeeded. I had no
idea your muscles could expand so much." I said "I thought they might,
which is why I took my shirt off." Father said "Impressive." I said "It
was just to get his attention." He said "No, I meant the whole
situation." I said "I expected something like this to happen with Bart
some day, which is why I gave him the idea to come to me when he was
afraid. Pete?" Pete told him about my previous interactions with Bart.
Father couldn't keep from smiling at how I played him before. I said
"Father, I would like your opinion about something I can't decide on. I
checked. He had another firearm at home, a double barreled shotgun.
Should that one be bent, too?" He said "I see what you mean. I can't
decide either. When that happens, the lazy option is usually best." I
said "Yes, I can always do it later." I grinned and said, "Thanks for
almost helping." He grinned and said, "You're almost welcome."
Before we went upstairs, father called Race's father, and got
permission for Race to sleep over, which made him a little excited.
Then Pete asked if he could tell father about the ring. I said "Only if
you tell him what you told me about him." He said "He already knows." I
complained, "Nobody tells me anything!" Pete laughed. I went upstairs
with Race. Pete would come up when he was finished. We undressed and
fell on the bed. He said "That was magnificent! I don't know how
anybody could do that, much less do it better." I said "Thanks. I don't
know why people make a fuss over things like that. I just do what I
think I should do, and do my best to make it happen. It's just work for
me, and I don't even like it. I don't like forcing people to do what
they know they should do. It shouldn't be this way." He said "My father
says the same thing. He does what you did, but with countries, and
hardly ever with much success." I said "Frustrating. I feel for him.
You can tell him that." He said "I would like to tell him the whole
story. I know he would like to know it. May I?" I said "About Bart
before and with the angry father, yes. Not about going to the Bureau,
or psychic things, for now." He said "Can I borrow Pete for that? He
would tell it better, and my father would be more likely to believe 2
than just one." I said "Sure, but it's up to Pete. Ask him. My father
could verify it, too."
Pete came in and undressed, and flopped on the bed with us. He said
to me, "I don't know how you do it, but you made a really bad situation
ten times better than if it had never happened." Race got excited and
said, "That's like what I tried to tell him, but you said it much
better! You're really good at that." Pete got a little embarrassed and
said, "Thanks." I poked Race, and he asked Pete if he would help him
tell his father what had happened, which I had said was alright to do.
Pete was flattered and said, "Sure. Let me know when." I grinned. Race
said to me, "You knew he would agree." Pete poked me. I poked him, then
we were all tickling each other, and I don't have to tell you what
happened after that. But I will, anyway. We did a lot of sharing with
the link nut play, and then we helped each other squirt. After we
rested, Pete said, "I have to get home. There are some things I have to
do. Port me?" We kissed and hugged our goodbyes, and I ported him to
his bedroom.
When Pete was gone, Race said to me, "That wasn't completely true." I
knew what he meant, and I said, "So, why did he do that?" Race thought
a little, and said, "He wanted my first sleepover to be with you alone,
at least for the first time, because he thought it would be best for
me. And he knew it was what I wanted." I said "I'm proud of you both.
Him for putting you before himself, because he feels the same way about
me which you do, and you for detecting his true feelings, and
understanding them. More reasons for loving you both." He positively
glowed with happiness. Well, his aura did. We went to sleep in each
other's arms, with real love flowing between us.
Your friend,
Stephen
--
Grant
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