Jonah's Giant 6

[Rowan]

– Six –

When I awoke in the morning, I tried to sit up. There was some resistance at first, but then Jeremy rose with me. He fit me between his thighs, yawned against the curve of my neck.

“Mornin’”

I began to stand, and he wrapped his arms around me to prevent the action.

“Did I wake you, Jeremy?”

“No, I always get up at dawn to watch...” His voice trailed as he laughed softly. “I like to watch you run.”

His body engulfed me, prevented me from turning around to see his face. “Why do you like to watch me run?”

“I just do.” He tightened the embrace. “Wanna take a shower with me?”

I’d showered in groups before, but this situation was different. “Your bathroom only has one showerhead. And it would be difficult for you and I to fit into the stall together.”

He stood, and his rising body moved me to my feet. “C’mon.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the bathroom. “It’ll be fun.”

I followed him. “How will it be fun?”

“You’ll soap me up, I’ll soap you up. We’ll rinse and repeat.”

That meant I would have to touch his naked skin. Would my body react the same way it had yesterday?

At first, Jeremy didn’t notice when I stopped walking. I stumbled, and he turned, catching me before I fell. “What’s up?”

“Will the fun lead to sex?”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

“I can’t have sex with you.”

Jeremy frowned, then pulled me closer. “Don’t let the age thing get in the way of this. I’m the best you’ll ever have.” He lowered his head. “And I want you.”

“You want me...” I replayed this morning’s conversation in my mind, then replayed yesterday’s. “... to have sex?”

He glided his large knuckles up my cheek. “Since I was thirteen. I hated my parents when they said I couldn’t go over to your house anymore.”

I remembered the quiet that had permeated the walls of my home when he stopped coming over. “Your parents said you were not allowed to visit me?”

“They said I was too old to be bothering you.”

“You never bothered me, Jeremy.”

His frown vanished. “I always love it when you say that. You have this way, you know? Adults never paid attention to me before you, and you made me feel important. Now I can have anybody, and you’re still the only one I want.”

I didn’t understand why anyone would want me. Most people were uncomfortable in my presence, even when I tried to put them at ease.

But Jeremy wanted to play, and I thought I finally comprehended the rules of the game. “If I have sex with you, then you’ll let me go?”

In a flash, everything changed: his face, his touch, the tone of his voice. He grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. “You son of a bitch! Why are you making me out to be the bad guy? <i> You want it as much as I do!” </i>

My breathing quickened, came harsh through my mouth. I’d insulted him—deeply—but I had no idea which words had been wrong. “I don’t want to have sex.”

His hands clenched, causing his fingers to dig into me. <i> “Liar. </i> I see you, watching me. When I work out, when I mow the lawn or wash my truck. You’ve been to every single one of my football games, even to my <i> away </i> games!”

Watching him play football had been wrong? “You... You invited me.”

The statement, despite its truth, enraged him. He slammed me against the wall again, then threw me to the floor.

My vision swam on impact, and as I tried to focus on him, his image seemed to swell larger. “I’m sorry. I won’t come to your games anymore.” I hadn’t realized I’d been staring at him during other activities, but I apologized for that as well.

There was a moment of silence between us. Then Jeremy roared so loudly that I was forced to cover my ears. He spun and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard that it was torn off its hinges.

I watched as he tore off his boxer shorts and threw them aside. He didn’t close the glass door of the stall as he turned on the shower, braced his hands on the wall. His broad back expanded and contracted with every breath, and his muscles clenched tightly with his anger.

The water streamed over his tan skin, formed rivulets down the crevices of his body. I watched their paths, entranced.

Then I remembered that Jeremy did not like it when I stared at him. I pushed myself to my feet. Once the dizziness passed, I went to the bed. It wasn’t like my bed, but I straightened the sheets and the blanket. Hospital corners, they’re called.

Jeremy was still in the shower when I finished, so I sat on the edge of the mattress and waited.

When the water stopped, I looked down at my knees. I heard him walk into the room, I heard drawers open, I heard the soft swish of clothing.

“Jonah.”

I didn’t look up. I was afraid.

<i> “Jonah.” </i>

What was right? What was wrong? I didn’t know anymore. Slowly, I lifted my head. He’d put on a red t-shirt, tucked it into a pair of faded jeans. The denim molded over his thighs, outlining his muscles even more than the pair he had worn yesterday.

He crossed his arms over his chest, and my gaze focused on the military tags around his neck as they shimmered in the morning light. “I’m going upstairs to eat breakfast, then I’ll bring some down for you. What do you want for lunch?”

His voice was level, as if tightly controlled. I met his gaze and wanted to think of the sky, as I had yesterday. “Today is Monday. Turkey on whole wheat bread, one can of ginger-ale, and one bag of sliced carrots.”

His brow furrowed, but his voice remained smooth. “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned and began to leave.

“Jeremy?”

He turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

I hesitated, twisted my hands into the blanket beneath me. “How long do you plan to keep me here?”

The rage had gone from his face, but for some reason the fear would not leave me. “For as long as it takes, Jonah.”

I fell silent, and he jogged up the stairs, left the basement.

As long as it takes.

Would I have to violate a rule I was told never to break?

What would happen, then?

*****

Later in the day, I heard movement on the floor above. It was too early for school to be out, so I ran up the stairs, pounded on the door with my fist. Jeremy’s father worked full-time, so it was most likely his mother in the house. “Mrs. Wilkens? Can you hear me? It’s Jonah Kayle. I’m in the basement.”

For a while there were no answering sounds, but I continued to hit the door.

After several minutes, I heard a hushed, feminine voice on the other side. “Yes, Jonah. I can hear you.”

I pressed my face close to the seam of the doorframe. “Mrs. Wilkens, could you please let me out?”

There was a long pause, and then another soft answer. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Because the block in front of the door is too heavy? Perhaps a neighbor can—”

“Jeremy said we couldn’t let you out.”

Her sentence confused me. “But... you’re his mother, and this is your house.”

“I-I know. Jeremy, he’s... You don’t know what he’s like. We can’t break his rules. We just can’t.”

Rules were important, and Jeremy was strong enough to enforce them, but it wasn’t right to keep me here. There were things I had to do. “Mrs. Wilkens, I’ve missed half a day of work. I’ve heard the people in the office talking. They would be more comfortable if I did not have a job, but I’m supposed to have a job. To pay bills, to buy food, to be a productive member of society.”

“Jonah... our son is a lot stronger than you think. We have no control over him.”

I touched my arm, still tender from my collision with the desk yesterday. “He’s... He’s hurt me, Mrs. Wilkens.”

“Oh, god.” I heard her sob.

“I’m sorry.” I pressed my hand flat against the door. “It’s not good to make people cry.”

The sobbing grew louder. “I wish I could help you, Jonah.”

Before I could reply, I heard her run away from the basement.

I was alone again.

*****

I paced the length of the floor, waiting for Jeremy’s return. The concrete felt cool beneath my bare feet, and the still air brushed against my legs as I walked back and forth. I only wore the shirt he had given me yesterday, and although the cotton was comfortable, it was not my shirt.

I didn’t know Jeremy’s schedule very well. I knew his highschool let out at 3:30pm, but I couldn’t predict when he would be home.

This was not a good place to be.

Specs of dust floated through the single shaft of sunlight in the room. I looked up at the small window. It was too small to crawl through, but perhaps I could see the world outside, catch someone’s attention. If Mrs. Wilkens could not help me, then perhaps someone else could.

Taking the chair from the desk, I dragged it to the window and climbed onto it. The window was well above my head, and I reached up to grab the ledge.

A soft sound escaped me when pain engulfed my left arm. I cradled it close to my body until the sensation eased.

One handed, then.

I reached up again, grabbed the ledge, and pulled myself up. I could see the grass of the Wilkens’s lawn, but no people. Ignoring the pain it brought me, I tried to lift my arm, to open the window. But I wasn’t strong enough.

A pair of sneakers appeared, and I called out. “Hello! Can you hear me?”

The sneakers came to a stop just in front of the window, and the person lowered himself, laid out on the grass to look directly at me.

It was Jeremy.

He grinned, shook his finger.

“Jeremy,” I called. “I don’t like being in the basement.”

Still smiling, he tapped his ear and shook his head. Then he made a downward motion with his hand.

It took several seconds to decipher his meaning, but I lowered myself to the chair and then moved to the floor.

Twenty minutes later, Jeremy opened the basement door and walked down the stairs.

“Good thing I caught you trying to squeeze through that window. You would have gotten stuck, for sure.”

“I wasn’t trying to climb out of it. I was trying to open it.”

He walked toward me, his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Were you going to call out for help?”

The gentleness in his tone confused me. He’d been so angry this morning. “Yes. I also wanted to breathe the air.”

He frowned. “Why?”

I looked up at the window. “The air in here tastes stale. Fresh is better.”

“And you weren’t strong enough to open it?”

His fingers trailed along my face, drawing my gaze back to him. “No, I wasn’t.”

A smile ghosted on his lips as he reached upward. He twisted the lock and easily pushed it open. “How’s that?”

Clean air floated through the window, made the room better. “Thank you, Jeremy.”

“If you promise not to yell, I’ll leave it open.”

“I promise.”

He stared at the window ledge a moment longer, then returned his attention to me. “You pulled yourself up there?”

“Yes.”

“Show me?”

I tilted my head to the side before climbing onto the chair and pulling myself up as I did earlier.

“You’re such a strong little guy,” he said softly.

I glanced at him. His face was warm, and his eyes reminded me of the sky again.

Jeremy slipped his arm around my body, pulled me from the window ledge. “Wrap your legs around me, Jonah.”

I obeyed. “Like this?”

He grinned. “Yeah, just like this.” The circle of his arm closed, bringing me tight against his body. “I was thinking about you today.”

“Really?”

“Really. I got caught daydreaming and the teacher tried to give me detention. I wanted to come straight home, so I told him it wasn’t going to happen.”

I placed my hand on his shoulder, noticed that it couldn’t cover his large deltoid muscle. “Won’t there be consequences?”

His voice grew husky, soft. “Nah. He’s too scared of me to do anything about it.”

To better hear him, I leaned closer. “Why did it take you so long to come to the basement? It shouldn’t take twenty minutes to walk around the house.”

Something in my words brought him pleasure, and his face gentled even further. “I said I’d get some stuff out of your place, remember? I brought some clothes, even though I kinda like you in my shirt.”

“You brought my clothes? Did you bring my toothbrush?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I brought your toothbrush. I even brought your soap and shampoo.”

His expression fascinated me. The curve of his lips, the slight crinkling at the corners of his eyes. No one had ever looked at me this way before. It drew me closer, until the tip of my nose touched the tip of his.

Realizing I was staring, I tried to pull away. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I get too close.”

His other hand palmed the back of my head and brought our noses together again. “Don’t say that anymore. You can never get too close to me, okay?”

I searched my mind for a response to that, but found none.

His voice softened, until it was barely more than a whisper. “Did you think about me today, Jonah?”

My tone matched his. “Yes. Almost constantly.”

“Good things? Bad things?”

I’d never put such qualifiers on thoughts—only actions—so I tried to be as detailed as possible. “I thought about the events that happened before you left for school, I thought about sleeping in your bed last night, I thought about the day we met, I thought about your football games, I thought about the notes you used to leave for me, I—”

“Jonah.”

I paused.

Jeremy took a deep breath, pushing his chest into mine. “About this morning... I...”

“Yes?”

He ran the pads of his fingers over the curve of my ear. “You mad at me?”

I shook my head.

The tension in his body eased. “I know it sounded like I was blaming you, but I wasn’t. I like it when you look at me. I think one of the reasons I brought you down here was so you would watch me all the time.”

This riddle was very complex. I doubted my ability to unravel it, and the consequences were unpredictable when I tried to have him clarify things. “Jeremy, I don’t know what to say.”

He blew a soft stream of air from his nose. “I’m not letting you go until we get this worked out.”

That much I understood. “What do I do now?”

Slowly, he loosened his hold, allowing me to slide to the floor. “You can go brush your teeth, because your breath stinks.”

I held out my hand. Jeremy opened up his backpack and gave my toothbrush to me.

“May I take a shower as well?”

“Sure.” He removed his books and handed me the bag. “Everything’s in there.”

Keeping it close to my body, I carried the bag to the bathroom. To prevent my clothes from getting damp, I took them out and placed them on the floor next to the doorway.

This time the shower was... better. But it still wasn’t right.

Jeremy’s gazed fixed on me when I reemerged with clean skin and clean teeth. His eyes never left me as I changed into a white, button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. He rose from the couch, looked me over.

“You’re not shy about your body, are you, Jonah?”

I slipped a black leather belt through the loops of my pants and fastened it. “No.”

“I guess you don’t have reason to be. Kinda like me.”

Jeremy and I were nothing alike. I glanced up, trying to make sense of that statement.

He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “I never noticed that all your clothes are black and white. Has it been that way the whole time I’ve known you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I picked up the rest of my clothing. “I’ve been told that I have no sense of style. The colors I choose to go together aren’t... pleasing to the eye.”

He frowned. “Who told you that?”

“Many people. In college.” I remembered how it was for me there. “Even when I used a color wheel, they didn’t like what I wore. I’ve found that black and white clothing attracts the fewest comments.”

“Bastards. You probably looked fine. They were just giving you shit, trying to make your life hard.”

Jeremy spoke with a certainty that he shouldn’t have felt. We didn’t know each other then, so he could not have witnessed those events. “If that was their intention, then they accomplished their goal.”

An expression I didn’t recognize shaped his face. “Do you want me to kick their asses for you?”

“I don’t have their contact information.” I paused, rethought my statement. “Violence is not the answer.”

He laughed. “Trust me, some people need a good beat down.” His hands slid over mine as he took the bundle of clothing from me. “I’ll put these away for you.”

“You’re taking them back to my house?”

More laughter filled the air as he walked to the dresser. “I’ll put them here, in the top drawer.”

I took a step forward. “With your clothes?”

“Yep.”

My mouth worked as I tried to make an objection. No sound came out, because I couldn’t formulate a logical argument against sharing a drawer. It would bring me no harm if his clothing touched mine, but I wasn’t used to being so close. I was accustomed to being separate from those around me.

Jeremy straightened and drew his shirt off over his head. He flexed the muscles of his chest and dropped the shirt to the floor. “You want to help me work out, Jonah?”

I’d been staring at his torso, and his voice made me lift my head. “I don’t believe I’d be a good workout partner for you.”

He stretched upward, sending waves and ripples throughout his body. “Why not?”

“Your level of fitness is far beyond mine.”

He stopped short, then smirked. “Yeah, but you can still help me out.”

“How?”

“You can hold my feet while I do some sit-ups.” Jeremy sat on the concrete floor. “Come here.”

Although his knees were bent, his legs looked very long. The denim of his jeans rose above his ankles, and that seemed an ill fit to me. But perhaps they were meant to be that way. I walked to him, knelt before his feet, and covered the tops of his sneakers with my hands. “Is this how you want me to hold them?”

“Not exactly.” His large hands closed around my wrists, brought my hands to his quadriceps. Then he grabbed my own thighs and positioned my knees to rest atop his shoes. “Right there.”

I looked into his satisfied face. “This doesn’t hurt you?”

He swept his hand over my hair. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

Having no reason to doubt him, I pressed myself close to his shins and hugged his thick legs.

Jeremy grinned, then began his exercise.

After two sit-ups, I held out my hand. “This is an inefficient use of movement.” I leaned forward, laid my palm on his chest. “The exercise would be more effective if you stopped here.”

Slowly, he completed his sit-up, pushing my hand back as he rose. “I know what a crunch is, Jonah. I like doing it this way.”

My gaze touched on his pectoral muscles before meeting his again. “Why?”

He brushed his lips over mine. “That’s why.”

My head jerked back. “You’re very flexible, Jeremy.”

“Yeah, I know. People never expect that.”

His heart beat against my palm, and it overwhelmed my senses. “You’re also very hard.”

His laughter served to ease some of the tightness inside of me. “I’m gettin there.”

Getting there? I did not believe any person’s muscles could get more dense than his were now. But before I could question him, he’d resumed his exercise.

He didn’t kiss me every time he sat up. The unpredictability of it caused the blood to throb at my temples as I tried to discern his pattern, and it only seemed more random as I tried to comprehend it.

And his mouth... it didn’t always touch mine. Sometimes it caressed my cheek, sometimes my forehead. Again, I couldn’t figure out the pattern.

It grew increasingly difficult to keep track of all the variables, and other things were happening, as well. The rush of warmth, the heightened sensitivity of my nerve endings. My hands tightened on his thighs, but my fingers couldn’t make an indentation. His abdominal muscles swelled and contracted with each movement—the sight was hypnotic. My thoughts swam away from the numbers, and I was left with the not knowing, the rising intensity.

Jeremy stopped, rested back on his elbows.

I realized I was out of breath, as if I were the one who had been exercising. “A-Are you tired?”

There was arrogance in his expression, but it was different in a way I had never encountered before. Playful. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Your heart feels like a hummingbird against my knee.”

Pressing my hand against my own chest, I found that my heart was beating almost twice as fast as was normal. I hadn’t exerted myself at all in the last few minutes, so why was it doing that? Something like this warranted a trip to the hospital. “Jeremy, I have to—”

He lifted his shins, and my body rose into the air.

I clutched at his thighs, trying to keep my balance. “What are you doing?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Working my lower abs.”

He brought his knees to his chest, lowered me slightly, and repeated the action. “I think the weight of my body is inconsequential against your strength.”

“You got that right.” He brought me forward and straightened his legs, causing me to slide down to his torso. My chest pressed flush against his, and he closed his arms around me. “You’ll have to help me work up a sweat some other way.”

Where before my breath was labored, now it was shallow. The muscles in his arms were hard and rounded as they surrounded me, and my body rose and fell with every breath he took. “I don’t know how I can help you.”

One of his hands slid to the front of my body, and his fingers undid the first button of my shirt.

I tried to pull away, only to find myself pinned against him. “Why are you unbuttoning my shirt?”

“I never liked how you always wear these things closed up all the way to your Adam’s apple.”

“The shirt was designed to be fastened at the collar.”

He slipped another button through its hole, leaned upward to kiss the hollow at the base of my throat. “It looks better this way.”

His mouth worked its way deeper into my shirt; his lips caressed my collar bone. I buried my hands into his golden hair, and each individual strand grazed against my fingers. My next words were a whisper—I couldn’t summon my voice and I didn’t know why. “I’ve never read about an exercise like this.”

Chuckling, he flicked open another button. “You’ve been reading the wrong books, Jonah.”

He lifted his leg, hooked it over mine. I heard the sound of cloth ripping and loosened my hold on his hair. “Are you tearing my clothing?”

His lips continued to trail kisses over my exposed skin. “It’s my jeans.”

“Why are you—”

“Relax, Jonah.” He brought me closer, kissed the curve of my neck. “I’m always outgrowing my clothes now. These jeans were gonna go any day, and now that my muscles are pumped...” Groaning softly, he licked my skin. “God, you taste good.”

His tongue was warm and wet. It occurred to me that he probably did not taste like sandalwood, but there was only one way to be certain. “Jeremy, may I—”

Jeremy stiffened, then roared. “DAMMIT! <i> Can’t you keep it down!” </i>

I bolted upright. “I’m sorry.”

He sat up, held me to his lap as he looked up at the ceiling. “The two of you had better <i> shut the fuck up, </i> or I’m coming up there!”

“Jeremy?” I asked softly. “Who are you yelling at?”

His eyes were bright and sharp when he lowered his head. “My parents. They’re talking about us, and it’s fucking up my mood.”

I glanced up at the ceiling, then back at him. “I can’t hear them.”

His chest heaved with his agitation. “Well I can. Sometimes I can hear people talking on the god-damned street a block away.”

The human ear was not capable of such feats, I knew. Far more likely that these were hallucinations and, if they were, then it appeared I had discovered some of the elements needed to solve the riddle that was Jeremy. “Do you hear voices often?”

He scowled at me. “Don’t say it like that. Like I’m crazy.”

A mental illness would explain his mood swings, the sudden personality shift that had caused him to drag me into the basement. Schizoid disorders did not usually manifest until the mid-twenties, but it wasn’t unheard of, and that would account for his outburst just now. “There are people who can help you.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“Crazy is not a good word to use,” I said, parroting the therapists at the institution that had raised me. “Having a mental illness is nothing to be a—”

Jeremy covered my mouth with his hand. “Quiet, okay?” He squeezed his eyes closed. “If I concentrate, I can usually shut them out.”

Left with no other choice, I waited patiently for him to accomplish his task.

Several minutes passed before he opened his eyes again. “There. Everything’s fine now.”

His hand still covered my mouth, so I only blinked.

“You don’t believe me, do you? That I heard them talking about us.”

Again, I was only able to blink.

He brought his face close to mine. “My mom was telling my dad how you asked for her help today. She said she cried. Did that happen?”

I reached up, tugged on his hand. He let me pull it from my mouth. “Yes.”

His voice dropped. “I told you.”

He had, so I didn’t debate.

Narrowing his eyes, he shoved me off his lap and rose to his feet. He paced the floor, taking a path almost identical to the one I had walked earlier. “Fuck. It’s happening more now. Sometimes, if I focus, I can even do it on purpose. I can hear people all over the block.” He paused, looked down at me. “Not you though. Sometimes I hear your tv, but it’s usually quiet at your house.”

My gaze fell to his legs. His thighs had split the seams of his jeans, and now an expanse of tanned skin was clearly visible. “I have no one to converse with.”

“You can talk to me.” Quickly, he closed the distance between us, lowered himself into a crouch. The material around his calves burst open. “Just don’t call me crazy, and don’t talk about mental illnesses. Alright?”

As I stared into his face, I took note of the perfect symmetry of his features. Jeremy commanded his teachers, his parents. He controlled his world, shaped it to fit his needs. Something I had never been able to do. Maybe I should defer to his judgment, since he possessed insight that was beyond me. “Alright.”

He smiled. “Cool. I like having you here, Jonah.”

But this was not my home. My home was next door, and I only saw one way to return to it. “Jeremy,” I hesitated, knowing he’d flown into a rage every time I’d broached this subject, “if I give you what you want, will you let me go?”

This time, he remained calm. “Yeah. I promise.”

A promise. That meant he would keep his word. “Will we still talk?”

His face softened. My question had pleased him, and I could not fathom why. “Sure.”

“Do you promise?”

He lowered his head, pressed his lips to my cheek. “I promise.”

“Sealed with a kiss,” I said softly, touching my fingers to my face.

I felt the breath of his laughter against my skin as he kissed me again.

[Braun1]

Such an incredibly intense story. I can't wait to see what happens next.

Thanks bud, you've done it again.

[muscl4life]

To make a romantic story.

Each character completes the other in such a deep, I'd say spiritual way.
Excellent chapter, we simply don't know if Jonah is gonna mess up things with his teenager muscle hunk or if he will simply make his adonis' heart melt.

I loved the mention about some special abilities like super-hearing - REALLY exciting

I finally realized why they go so well toghter - in a way they are both different from the rest of us - and they need each other just because of that.

I surrender to your talent once again my friend

Another great story.

Bruno

[ferro]

Your lens on this story -- Jonah's first person account -- is so narrow...and yet you've given us so much in this latest chapter. I feel like a kid in the audience of a play, trying to tell the main character not to open the door because Bad Things Will Happen...and at the same time, knowing deep down that the stage is another world, and no matter how hard I try or loud I yell, that character isn't going to hear me.

Jonah just isn't going to pick up on the obvious; worse, his rules for life decisions, so woefully incomplete, are bound to fail him, as we see so clearly in this chapter when he agrees to defer to Jeremy's judgment (bad decision) and not to talk about mental illness again (catastrophic decision). Jeremy merely thinks it'll cut off discussion of his own problems (I wonder how long he thought he was "hearing voices" before he figured it out), but what it will cut off is information Jeremy badly needs about Jonah.

If this story weren't so good, it would be far more maddening than it is. Excellent writing and characterization, and some wonderfully sensual moments.

I don't consider Jonah free of the basement yet, though, because the greatest danger is yet to come; what will he (or his autism) do when faced with the still unknown and emotionally and physically overwhelming nature of a first orgasm?

I hope I don't have to wait too long to find out.

Ferro

PS: I know comparisons are invidious, but I wonder how those who disliked Vincent Shaw so much in "Flow" feel about Jeremy Wilkens in this story?

[skumbum]

Post again soon, I hope.

[rtulde]

This is a great story please continue and get Jonah out of that basement! Thanks for all your efforts, with all you write I know you have to pick and choose but please do what you can with this great story.
Thanks.