Carlos was all smiles as they sat at the lunch table in the cafeteria. "That was a kick ass experience yesterday…even if it did end too soon."

"So everything went well with your father?" Lucas asked.

"He stayed long enough to take me out to dinner while mom went to church. They still don't talk much unless it's about me. I told him about you guys surfing and he asked me not to try it, said it was too dangerous." Carlos laughed. "I told him surfing wasn't my game, but I liked all the girls hanging around."

"I knew you were there for a reason," Neil said.

"Did you tell your father about the shark?" Carlos asked.

"Not yet. He'll understand but my mom will freak out."

"Your brother Charlie is so cool, Lucas," Carlos said. "Wish I had a brother instead of a sister."

"We have our days of conflict," Lucas said, eyeing the clock on the wall while waiting for the bell to ring and end their lunch period.

"I have something for you," Neil said, crushing his lunch bag and sliding his notebook onto the table. He opened it and pulled out a sheet of paper.

"What's this?" Lucas asked.

Neil grinned and slid the paper across the table. The state parks department logo caught Lucas' attention and the words below it: Sebastian Inlet State Park…Surfing Championship…it was an application form.

"You must be kidding ... "

"No I'm not," Neil said. "I downloaded these off the internet last night…one for you and one for me. I don't want to do this alone."

"I'm not ready," Lucas said.

"Neither of us may win. A lot of this contest is about the Munchkins ten and under, but there's always a lack of qualified twelve-year-olds, you know that. We need to start somewhere, get some notice, and definitely get some ranking points."

"They have points for surfing?" Carlos asked.

"Sure, the Atlantic Surfing Federation keeps the scores from all the competitions and when you get enough points you can move up to national standing." And here Neil had to grin. "I need to get my name on that list, especially if I plan to be the next Kelly Slater."

Lucas laughed, and then Carlos said, "Who is Kelly Slater?"

"The king of surfers, dude," Lucas said. "He surfed at Sebastian Inlet a few years ago and Charlie saw him, said the man was awesome." And the bell rang.

The mass of bodies in the cafeteria rose to their feet and began to surge towards the doors. There would be just enough time to clear the room before the eighth graders arrived for their lunch period.

"Lucas…take the form," Neil said.

"My mother will never sign this."

"Then get Charlie to do it, he knows you're good enough. I'm the one with a problem because if my dad doesn't sign I know my mother won't…especially if they ever see the bite marks on my board."

Lucas looked at the form. Winning anything was a long shot, but at least he would get a T-shirt for being in the competition.

"Okay ... I have to be crazy, but we can do this together."

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

"Why did you take these things?" Giddings asked.

"I thought if the gym called the police it might alert Steven and you guys would never catch him hauling drugs in the boat," Charlie said.

Giddings smiled. "Perhaps you're right, but then having this in your possession is a risk for you."

Charlie was standing beside Giddings' desk in the Sheriff's department detective bureau, a place that did not make him comfortable. The detective was right and he should have just called since the office was only a few miles from the gym. Giddings seemed to sense his discomfort.

"Sit down, Charlie, and tell me about this coin on the chain."

Charlie took a seat beside the desk and looked at the necklace again.

"This may sound weird, but I think the coin is connected to a friend of my little brother, or at least the boy's father."

Giddings examined the coin. "Besides being gold this is valuable for a lot of reasons."

"I know ... "

"So start at the beginning…you've seen this coin before?"

"No, but I heard that Carlos' mother has a whole dish full of them and I think they come from his father. After we set that GPS unit in the boat Mr. Peterson sent a truck to pick it up and the company name on the side was Acosta Landscaping…that's Carlos' last name…and then I saw the same logo on a pickup belonging to his father…"

Giddings listened as Charlie spun out the details of what he knew and how it all seemed to fit together. If the yacht where Carlos had gone fishing belonged to Peterson then the evidence all pointed to a link between Mr. Acosta, Peterson, and the drug business.

"Do you think I'm right?" Charlie asked.

"You have a lot of hearsay evidence to support your theory and none of that will stand up in court. But a good detective doesn't believe in coincidence. Would you mind if I asked you to repeat this story for the record?"

"Uh, no, I suppose not," Charlie said.

He spent the next two hours talking to Giddings and two other narcotics detectives. It wasn't like an interrogation but he felt exhausted when they were done.

"So what happens now?" Charlie asked.

"Nothing much…our investigation continues. Don't get me wrong, this was very helpful information."

"But you can't tell me anything else."

"Nope, just that we're getting closer to a resolution. At some point they'll use the boat to move drugs and we'll catch them in the act. At least now we'll have some idea about how they plan to distribute them. I would avoid Steven if you can. As you said he's going to miss his vial of cocaine and the necklace so we don't want him looking at you for any reason."

"I don't think anyone saw me at the gym…at least no one who will tell Steven anything," Charlie said.

"Let's hope so. This whole thing already has too many dimensions and we don't need him to involve you. So keep your eyes open and let us do our jobs. You'd make a good detective."

"Me? You must be joking."

"Nope, it's an interesting career. I wanted to be a teacher when I graduated high school but then my older brother got busted for drugs. I watched the whole process he went through and the detective who became involved was a pretty fair guy and that stuck in my mind when I went off to college. So here I am."

"What happened to your brother?" Charlie asked.

"First offense, he got probation, but my parents made him go through drug rehab and they were pretty tough on him." Giddings smiled. "He's a social worker now down in Miami-Dade."

Charlie sighed. "I wonder about boys like Carlos. His mother took him away from that drug scene but I think he still has self-esteem issues."

"He'll turn out all right if he stays friends with Lucas. It's tough not having a father around, or at least one with his head in the right places."

"Don't I know it," Charlie said.

Charlie drove back up Route One towards home. Me…a detective? No, not gonna happen, and he had to laugh. But Giddings was right, he would have to stay away from the gym for a while and keep his head down but his eyes open.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Neil got lucky. He came clean with his father about the shark bite to his surfboard and his father signed the competition application.

"Any encounter between humans and nature is a chance for danger," Mr. Kimble told his son. "You're not out surfing alone and there is safety in numbers. When is this surfing championship?"

"No date yet, but before Thanksgiving," Neil said. "Are you going to come?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

Neil got his board back after Marco had fixed the holes with Bondo. It was hard to see where the damage had been because Marco had added some blue dye to the compound. Good to go for now but Neil felt like he owed Marco something.

"Forget it, kid," Marco told him. "I don't like sharks…I hate sharks…I had one come after me before when I was fishing."

"What happened?" Neil asked.

"I shot him dead with my rifle."

"You take a rifle when you go fishing?"

Marco nodded. "Always have, always will, you never know when things in the ocean will try and eat you."

Neil didn't like hearing that and so he shared his concerns with Lucas. Both of them had spent hours in the ocean which brought about a certain awareness of the risks involved, but that was generally aimed at a surfing injury.

"Don't freak out," Lucas said. "You had a single encounter, it's not like that shark is sitting out there waiting for you."

Neil nodded and showed Lucas the signed form. Lucas smiled and pulled out his own form signed by his mother.

"Wow, she signed it?"

"Charlie told her it was okay so we're in this together…I even have a stamped envelope."

"Me, too ... so where's the nearest mailbox?"

It took two weeks to get a reply notice that they were registered for the competition and a flyer that announced the dates: the first weekend in November. Neil was hopeful that the ocean would cooperate and give them larger waves while Lucas just hoped that there wouldn't be any hurricanes this year.

A few years back Hurricane Irene had lashed the coast with twelve foot waves, tons of rain and wind had shut down the surfing beaches. Of course there were some local idiots who tried to take on the ocean and fortunately no one was killed. The Atlantic could be violent and those who lived near the water understood that only too well.

When Lucas was four years old the coastal residents packed up their cars and escaped inland to avoid Hurricane Francis. His father drove them as far as Orlando where they stayed for three days until the storm had passed. He still recalled the wind and water damage to the businesses along Indian River but their house withstood the onslaught.

Neil had never seen a hurricane but Charlie had taken them to the beach the last time a tropical storm had battered Bermuda. The waves at the inlet were nearly seven feet high, but the strength of the wind and rain precluded any surfing that day.

As a former winner Charlie automatically got a place in the competition and he was sure Peterson would as well. He couldn't help but wonder if father and son were involved in this drug business together. It wasn't like they needed the money, the family was already wealthy. No, the one who would be hurt by all of this would be Carlos, and that just wasn't fair.

By mid-October the boatyard was busy as hell. People were pulling their boats out of the water in preparation for hurricane season and the smart ones had the engines serviced before putting them into storage.

Clay hired Lucas and Neil to come by after school and wash boats for a few hours. Once the boats were clean the chrome fittings were covered in Glas-wax to stave off corrosion. The boat was then shrink-wrapped and strapped down to a cradle for the winter. By the end of the month the far reaches of the yard would be full of the smaller boats.

Weekends were still held open for surfing and both boys took their workout to a new level. They were now in storm season and Charlie paid more attention to the forecasts. NOAA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, kept tabs on the storm fronts which boiled off the African coast and crossed the Atlantic. So far their predictions for a mild hurricane season had been right, but there was still time for that to change.

Local bad weather consisted of thunderstorms blowing in from the west for most of the summer until the patterns changed. The Caribbean was still much warmer than the Atlantic currents and that gave birth to tropical depressions off the coast. That was generally good news for surfers.

The hype for the Sebastian Inlet Surfing Championship was building up in the local news and signs went up in stores and shops that sponsored the event. The buzz around school left Neil and Lucas in no doubt that just being in the contest would leave them with greater popularity.

The crowd of girls who showed up at the beach and the ones at school who made their adoration well known was on the increase. Lucas found it difficult to walk from one end of the school to the other without several followers. He didn't mind the attention and he supposed Neil had it worse.

Having fans didn't bother Neil whatsoever, especially since some of them were boys. Neil had read online that in any given population of males that at least ten percent could be gay or at least have feelings for other males. That was his kind of statistic and one that made him keep his eyes open around other guys.

Of course this was Florida and the local population was saturated with straight-laced church going people. Sebastian was pretty damn conservative so anyone with gay feelings would not exactly advertise them openly, especially at a young age. A middle school was filled with young teenaged angst, boys and girls in the throes of puberty with hormones raging and emotions off the chart.

Neil understood all of that since he was part of it, and so a watchful gaze at his peers served him well. The boy was named Keith, a tall lanky seventh grader who always seemed to appear in the hallway outside of Neil's classes when the bell rang. All his features were attractive but the eyes were large, warm, and brown…it was like being stalked by Bambi.

Keith often carried a guitar case which gave Neil an opening to start a conversation. Not that he knew a great deal about music but perhaps Keith could enlighten him.

"You seem to love that thing," Neil said, and it appeared to be true. Keith didn't just carry the case he seemed to hug it when he walked down the hall. Those Bambi eyes seemed to be amused at the comment, or was it surprise that Neil wanted to talk?

"The guitar belonged to my uncle…it's all I have from him," Keith said.

"What do you play?" Neil asked.

"New stuff ... old stuff ... I'm just a beginner. Do you play an instrument?"

"No, I haven't got the patience to learn."

And that made Keith smile which set Neil's head spinning. God, the boy was beautiful. The bell rang announcing the end of the school day and yet they stood in the hallway staring at one another. Lucas appeared at his locker, saw the two of them and turned away before he could interrupt.

"I'll have to play for you sometime," Keith said.

"I'd like that," Neil replied. "When?"

"I have to catch the bus and so do you…we're on the same bus you know."

Neil felt himself blush. He'd seen Keith at the back of the bus but never said anything to him. They could go on standing here and miss the bus or they could ride together, and Neil nodded.

Keith was a head taller and up close Neil could see the beginnings of a mustache growing in his upper lip. Mature was the word that came to mind…and wouldn't he like to find out what that meant.

The guitar sat on the floor between Keith's knees as the bus started up in a belch of smoke. His uncle had left him the guitar and that had inspired Keith to pick up the instrument and begin to play. He lived alone with his mother who sold real estate while the father had been gone since the boy was little.

"I have three older ... sisters…half-sisters from my mom's first marriage. They're all a lot older than me so I have the house to myself. I get a lot of quiet time to study and practice…" Keith rambled on and Neil listened to every word when he wasn't distracted that their knees were touching thanks to the guitar case.

There was nothing overtly gay about Keith, he was just a quiet boy, and Neil wondered how the subject of this attraction would play out. Sex was always a general topic of conversation among middle schoolers, but it was not something Neil would ever…

"You sure have a lot of girls following you around," Keith said as the bus swung out onto the highway.

"It's the surfing image ... we're like rock stars. But I'm in sixth grade and that's hardly old enough to date anyone even if that's what I wanted. But you're a musician…don't you get the same thing?"

"I don't encourage it," Keith said, and then he was silent.

"Where do you live?" Neil asked.

"You get off the bus one stop before me," Keith said.

"Oh ... I would like to hear you play."

"Tomorrow is Friday. You can get off the bus with me tomorrow…tell your parents."

"Yeah ... I'll tell them."

Neil thought about that all evening long…he had a date with a boy. There was nothing unusual about visiting a friend's house after school and his mother agreed he could go. At the very least he would learn what kind of music Keith liked and hopefully he would be a decent guitarist. Yeah, and hopefully he would be gay and they would…do what?

For all his talks with Lucas about being gay Neil understood that he didn't know the first thing about sex with a boy. It would be stupid to carry lust in his heart when their minds had just barely begun to share ideas. But as he did his homework after dinner Neil knew it would not be asking too much if he could give Keith a kiss.

"Keith ... do I know him?" Lucas asked.

"I felt the same way…he rides my bus, he lives just around the corner…I feel like an idiot," Neil said.

"So you think ... ?"

"I don't know anything, that's why I'm going over there."

Lucas smiled. "I wish you luck ... are we still on for tomorrow?"

"Surfs up ... seven o'clock…I'll be there."

A day of anticipation ended with the final bell and Neil made his way down the hall to find Keith standing by his locker.

"Are you coming over?" Keith asked.

"Sure am ... is it still okay?" Neil said.

"Yeah ... my mom won't be home until seven o'clock, might even be later."

Four hours alone in a house with Keith…oh the possibilities, Neil thought. The bus ride seemed to take forever but finally they passed Neil's stop and kept on going. It had been a good while since Neil had been this far into the neighborhood, but then the bus pulled over and they got off.

"That's my house over there," Keith said and he led the way.

Except for the plantings in the yard this house looked a lot like Neil's family home. Keith opened the front door with a key and motioned Neil inside. Keith's mother was into antique furniture, and there was a lot of it in the living room. They went through into the kitchen where Keith set his backpack down on the kitchen table and propped his guitar case up in the corner.

"You want something to drink?" Keith asked.

"Water would be fine," Neil said, looking around at the spotless condition of the kitchen. His mother would approve, there was no doubt about that. Keith got them each a bottle of water from the fridge and then opened the kitchen door. The back yard was a plant paradise with a wide deck and a decent sized swimming pool.

"Sweet, you have a pool," Neil said.

"I have to clean it this weekend. This was one of Mom's speculation homes about four years ago, but rather than rent it out we moved in. She has three others around town but this was by far the best one. Let me show you my room."

Keith's bedroom was down a short hallway off the kitchen, but it faced the backyard and had large windows looking out over the garden. Like the rest of the house it was clean and neat, except for the unmade bed.

"Oops ... I was in a hurry this morning," Keith said, pulling the sheets in place.

This was not your average male teen cave, but there was no doubt the occupant was a musician. Keith had an electronic keyboard on a stand, some recording equipment and a desk piled with computers and racks of disks.

"You record?" Neil asked.

"I'm still learning…this was my uncle's stuff."

"You haven't told me…what happened to him?"

Keith turned to look at a framed photo that sat upon his dresser. "That's him…he was killed in Iraq."

Neil looked at the photo of a man dressed in a camouflage uniform, a handsome man who looked very much like Keith.

"He taught me the basics of playing the guitar when I was younger except my hands weren't really big enough to do the proper fingering. Whenever he came home on leave he would come here and stay with us…he was never married and I thought that was pretty sad."

"I'm sorry ... I shouldn't have asked," Neil said.

"It's okay ... I would have told you. He was like a father to me, and yet I didn't really know him until after he died. The Army sent Mom all his stuff from over there but he left the guitar with me. He was a doctor and I can't imagine all the horrible things he must have seen, but then I got to read about them."

"He wrote about the war?"

"Yeah, he kept journals ... but there was a lot of personal stuff in there Mom didn't want me to read but I have. Uncle John was gay and I think she was afraid of what I would think, but it didn't matter…I still love him."

Neil was struck dumb…this was not at all what he expected. How could he tell Keith what he was feeling after learning about his uncle? At least there had been nothing negative in what the boy had just said.

"Let me play something for you," Keith said.

He went back to the kitchen for his guitar as Neil stared at the photo. There were no other pictures in the room, just a few framed paintings hung on the wall. Where were the posters of rock stars…what kind of music did Keith play?

Keith laid the case on his bed and opened it to reveal a well-worn acoustic guitar with the name Martin engraved on the end. He picked it up and struck a chord before he smiled and sat on his desk chair.

"I still have nylon strings because my fingertips are still too soft for steel ones." He played several chords and then started picking out a melody. The tune was familiar but Neil couldn't put a name to it. The fingering looked complex but Keith seemed to play very well, and then he started to sing.

"There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold, and she's buying a stairway to heaven…" And here he stopped playing.

Neil sensed the great emotion that seemed to crowd the room and when Keith looked up there were tears in his eyes.

"That was Uncle John's favorite song…I miss him so much."

What could he say, the memories were painful and Neil didn't know why but he reached out and put a hand on Keith's shoulder. The guitar went back in the case and they both stood up. Keith tried a smile and then somehow their arms became entangled and they were hugging.

Neil wasn't sure what they were doing but it felt so good to have his arms around this boy. But they stood in silence for a while as the emotions drained and Keith finally let go.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to get upset."

"No ... it's okay," Neil said. "I enjoyed hugging you."

Keith's smile was mischievous this time. "So ... it's like that with you?"

"I'm gay," Neil blurted out, "so I guess I don't mind hugging guys."

Keith closed his guitar case and set it against the wall. Then he sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him. Neil didn't need a second invitation.

"I respected my uncle's feelings when I read he was gay. The journals were like a window on his most private thoughts and it was like learning who he was all over again. I guess it takes courage to tell people you're gay…I'm not sure I could do that."

Neil gazed into those big brown Bambi eyes and saw humor and curiosity. Keith was okay with the gay…

"I think you like me," Keith said. "I like you, too. At first I was all caught up in that surfer image because the girls made you seem glamorous ... but you don't let it go to your head."

Neil nodded, and then Keith reached out and put his hand on Neil's shoulder. It didn't take words, the eyes said everything ... and Keith leaned over until their lips met. As a first kiss it was gentle, soft, and it sent Neil's head spinning until Keith pulled back.

"Yeah ... gay is okay," he said, "but I don't know what I am ... maybe you can teach me." And then they resumed kissing.

They lay on Keith's bed, side by side with arms around one another. The hugs and kisses seemed to last for hours, and maybe they had. They were both aroused by the situation and yet chose not to recognize the lust between their legs. This was all about getting acquainted and there would be time to discover the many other things a pair of bodies might share.

Neil was lost in the feelings and yet a little concerned that Keith expected him to be the teacher in this quickly evolving relationship. He still felt like the fool for not noticing Keith on the bus, and an even bigger fool for not knowing the best thing in his life lived right up the street.

They lay there talking about friends and school ... and of course Neil's desire to be a surfing champion. Keith did not surf but he was willing to give it a try. That would be something else Neil might teach him and at that point Neil had to admit he was a great surfer but a total novice in bed.

Keith laughed. "Me, too ... except for my personal right-handed best."

"I want to have sex with a guy ... eventually," Neil said. "I've seen stuff online ... it looks so complicated and those videos seem so ... so fake. I think you have to be in love for sex to mean anything."

"Yeah, I get the same impression ... but I don't think we should have sex…not yet."

Neil sighed. "Thank goodness. I agree ... it's too soon."

Keith smiled. "Gives us something to look forward to ... but I do like the kissing."

On to Chapter Six

Back to Chapter Four

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"Groms" Copyright © Chris James. All rights reserved.
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