Affair of a Foreign Nature
Chapter 2
Underway
By and © Hans Schrieber
Mom shook me gently by the arm until I slipped out of my dream and into foggy reality. The room was still dark and it took several attempts by mom before I comprehended what she wanted. Finally, it dawned on me that the day I'd been waiting for was here. Once I realized it, I scrambled out of bed and carefully stepped over Ricky, who was sleeping soundly on the floor. I smiled as I thought about the fun we'd had before going to sleep. His revelation about jacking off with me in his head had left me speechless and I still didn't know how to think about it. It was weird to think about since he was like a brother to me.
I pulled on the warm-up pants and a t-shirt I'd set out for travelling in. I picked up my backpack and stuffed Ricky's present into the middle pocket. I ate a bowl of Cinnamon Crunch on the way to the airport. Mom and dad both drove me to LAX. I was equally excited and nervous. I'd flown a couple times, but never this long before. I was especially nervous going through security check since I was all alone. Mom and dad helped me confirm my tickets and I got boarding passes for the whole trip, which mom insisted I put in a zipper pouch along with my ID. Before getting in the security line, mom gave me a big hug and dad put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze. After I got in the line, mom walked along the whole way just outside the barrier giving me instructions on how to behave and warning me to be careful on the slopes. I was relieved when the line made a switchback and I could just wave goodbye.
When I got to the scanner things, I forgot to take my shoes off and people got impatient with me as I pulled them off and had to go back and get another bin to put them into. Then, I had to go back through the metal detector twice because of my belt buckle. It sucked and I was kind of nervous and upset. I hate feeling stupid in front of other people. I waited for my stuff to come down the conveyor and was noticing the tip of my big toe poking through a small hole in my sock. I wiggled it and it poked through a little more. I felt subconscious all of a sudden as if everyone was staring at my toe. I slid my other foot over it while I waited. When my pack finally emerged from the machine, I reached for it but the big guy in the blue shirt took it before I could. "Is this your bag?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Get your other items and meet me over by that table," he ordered.
I was getting really nervous now. I grabbed my shoes, belt, iPod, laptop and phone and walked over to the table. The man put rubber gloves on and the last time someone did that in front of me it was a bad experience and my stomach churned even more. He started digging through my pack. He pulled out my Hardy Boys book and flipped through it. He looked at my snowboarder magazines and set them aside. I glanced over and saw a kid about my age sitting on a bench across from the inspector putting his shoes back on and watching me. I figured he was glad this was happening to me instead of him. I was wishing just the opposite. Next, the inspector guy pulled out my 3-pack Trojan2Go condoms, held them up and looked at me with a little grin as he set them aside. The boy across the way, who'd been watching so intently, burst into a smile, grabbed his stuff and trotted off. I could feel the heat in my face. I looked back at my toe and wiggled it some more. I took my shoes and bent down to put them on but the inspector guy told me not to, so I just stared back down at my escaping toe.
Finally, the inspector pulled out my birthday gift from Ricky. "What is this?" he asked.
I started freaking out inside. I'm sure it showed, even though I tried my best to act cool about it. "Just a thing my friend gave me."
"Who is your friend?"
"This kid named Ricky where I live. It was for my birthday," I said. I knew from reading about interrogations that you had to use as much truth as possible to sound convincing.
"What is it?"
"A deodorant stick," I said simply.
"Odd gift."
"He's an odd kid." That was totally true.
The inspector popped the lid, spun the dial and lifted the deodorant piece out and peered inside then tipped it toward me. "Do you want to explain?"
"Okay. It's a camera. Ricky's into electronics. He gave it to me, really. It's not a bomb or anything like that if that's what you're thinking." I was really scared now. The look on his face was stern.
"Follow me." He gathered up my belongings and stuffed everything in my pack except the deodorant case and my ID. Those went in a separate box. I grabbed my shoes and wished I'd worn socks without a hole in them. Seems odd for me to worry about that again, but it's what popped into my mind.
He led me to a small office and told me to sit down. The door locked behind him. Soon, two men walked in scowling. I was trembling and couldn't stop. Suddenly, my excitement about going to South Tyrol was gone and all I really wanted to do was just go back home.
"Name?" The short guy in the bright blue shirt asked as he sat behind the desk.
"David Williams," I volunteered. "I don't have a rank or serial number."
The man at the desk looked at me and frowned. The big guy moved over next to me and folded his massive arms. I don't know why I say such stupid shit when I get nervous. I was just trying to lighten it up a bit. Humor was obviously the wrong approach.
"Sorry," I said sheepishly.
He made no acknowledgement of my comment or apology. "Where are you travelling to?"
"South Tyrol, sir." I decided full respect was the better approach to take.
"Why?"
"I'm visiting a friend there. He invited me to come and stay for a week."
"Name?"
"Umm, I told you, David Williams, sir."
"Not your name, the name of your friend in South Tyrol." His tone of voice implied I was an idiot.
"Oh, umm, Karl Baumgartner."
"Address."
"I don't remember it, but it's at the Hotel Tyrolier. They're sending someone to pick me up at the Innsbruck airport. His dad runs the hotel or something." I decided full disclosure was critical at this point before the big guy broke out the baseball bat.
He sorted through my stuff. He turned on my iPod, my phone and my Mac asking me for passwords each time and browsed through each one briefly. He held the condoms up and asked. "What are these for?"
I almost said, "You really look old enough to know." But, my brain engaged in time for a change and I said, "Umm ... you know." I waved my hand over my crotch and added, "in case I get lucky?"
The big guy snorted out a stifled laugh but snapped immediately back to composure. The desk guy's expression did not change.
He opened the box and pulled out the deodorant camera. He held it toward me. I started mentally cussing Ricky for giving me this stupid gift and myself for bringing it to the airport.
"What is your purpose in having this device?"
"I don't really have one. It was a gift. I brought it along to play with it and learn how it works," I honestly stated.
"So, make it work for me now." He set it on the edge of his desk. I picked it up and pressed the center of the adjusting wheel on the bottom of it as Ricky had shown me. I held it up an arm's length away from my face and wiggled my eyebrows, then pushed the button again to turn it off.
"I think it needs to be plugged into my Mac now to download and view the video." He slid the Mac over to the edge and I pulled the USB cord out of the middle of the case and plugged it in. Soon the device was recognized and I gave permission for the download. Two videos were in the "My Spy Cam" folder on my Mac. I unplugged the camera and turned the laptop sideways for all of us to see the screen and double clicked on the second and smaller file of the two. My face popped up and began wiggling its eyebrows, then faded to black.
"What is the other file?" The man asked.
"I don't know. Ricky must have put it on there," I answered honestly. I double clicked on it and, sure enough, Ricky popped up.
"Hey, dude. Happy Birthday. My butt wants to sing you a song." He spun around, pulled his shorts off his pudgy butt and grabbed both cheeks. He started wiggling them and singing,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
You look like a turd,
And you smell like one too.
This was followed by a rash of giggling before fading to black. I, of course, faded to bright red. I was so embarrassed.
The guy behind the desk was finally smiling in spite of himself.
"All right. You can go after we search your person." The desk guy said. "Stand up." I stood and the big guy came over and pulled my arms up shoulder high and patted me down all over. He even pushed my warm-ups and boxers up into my crack and copped a feel of my balls. He stepped away and I tugged at my pants to clear out my crack.
"By the way, if you happen to get 'lucky,' you better not even think about secretly videoing it. Doing so in most places in the US and Europe would be an illegal activity. Luckily, you arrived well in advance of your flight. If you go straight to your gate, you will still make your flight." Well, the idea of secretly videoing myself having sex with a hot Euro-chick had never occurred to me before he said that, but I liked the idea. I would have proof to show guys back home and my status would go off the charts. Of course, obvi, I'd have to encrypt and bury it deep on the hard drive somewhere to get back home safely.
I put my shoes on and stuffed everything haphazardly into my backpack and headed out the door being held open by the big guy, who'd just violated all of my personal spaces. I thought of half a dozen smartass comments, but luckily, my brain engaged in time again.
At the gate, the attendant knew to expect me and she interrupted boarding to let me in. The old lady right behind me was annoyed about letting me in, so in the walkway thing I let her go in front of me and that seemed to make her happy again. A steward met me at the plane's door and guided me to my seat. He said his name was Eric. I was in the second row right next to the boy that had been staring at me in security. He smiled at me as I sat down.
"Hi. I'm John," he said with a small wave.
"Hey. I'm David." I was looking for my seatbelt and it was under his leg. I had to fish it out from under him and I brushed against his bare skin. He had on baggy, plaid shorts that were at least two years out of fashion.
"I'm going to Germany to visit my dad," John volunteered without being asked. "Where are you going?"
"South Tyrol," I responded, as I pushed my pack under the seat.
"Where's that?" He asked, wrinkling his brow.
"Just above Italy," I answered with the best thing I could think of to make it easy for him.
"Oh, cool," he said. "I'm going to visit my dad."
"Yeah, you said that."
"Oh, yeah. He's in the army. He's got two weeks off and I get to go stay with him there."
"Great."
"Why are you going to South Troll?" He asked.
"It's Tyrol not Troll, but a friend invited me to go visit and go snowboarding with him."
"Oh, cool," John said. "I haven't seen my dad for a whole year."
"Wow, that's sad," I offered.
"Yeah, I miss him. But, it's gonna be so cool to see him." He looked out his window and then turned back to me, "I've never flown on a plane before, have you?"
"Yeah, a few times but not this far."
"Is it scary?" He asked.
"No. Actually, unless you're looking out the window, you forget that you're even in the air," I assured him. "It's pretty safe, I think."
I supposed the baggy shorts were probably some sort of hand me downs if his dad was in the army; they probably didn't have a lot of money. I resolved to offer to buy his headphones and snacks and stuff, if he didn't have the coin. I figured it would be an unbearable sixteen hours if he had nothing better to do than talk my ear off the whole time.
"So are you in high school?" John asked me.
"Yeah, I'm a freshman. Are you?"
"No, I'm in eighth grade," John said. "I just turned thirteen."
"I just turned fourteen yesterday," I added.
"Wow, we're 355 days apart. We're the same age for 10 days every year," John said without hesitation.
"What?"
"I was born on the 10th, but a year after you, so that makes you 355 days older than me," he explained.
"Wow. You some sort of math nerd or something?" I asked. He just shrugged and looked out the window. I think I offended him. Didn't really mean to, I was actually impressed he did that so quickly. "Hey, I didn't mean to insult you, dude. That was actually pretty balls what you just did there."
He turned back and cracked a smile. "You think so?"
"Yeah. You're quick."
"I like math. I'm good at it. I think I can be an engineer someday for the army."
"Why the army? A good engineer can probably make major coin for a big company," I said, thinking he was setting his sights a little low.
"But, you can't serve your country that way."
"Right. Didn't even consider that."
The steward came by and explained that since we were travelling alone he would take care of anything we needed and just push his button if we wanted or needed anything. He also let us know the aisle seat was empty to Chicago and we were free to spread out if we wanted to. He gave us complimentary headphones for the music and movie. I started plugging my own headphones into my iPod but Eric told me I wasn't allowed to until we were in the air and he would tell us when it was okay.
"So, umm, do you want me to move over?" I asked.
He made a sad face and shook his head no. "I'd like it better if you stayed next to me." He was a sweet and seemingly innocent kid. I smiled back.
"Sure, I'll just move my pack under the other seat for more leg room then."
He jerked and grabbed my arm as we pulled away from the gate. "Relax. We're just getting pushed back. We're headed to the runway."
When the safety instruction started, we both read along on the card in the seat pocket. I think we were the only ones on the whole plane that did, though. The steward checked our seatbelts and we taxied to the takeoff strip. I love the feeling of the initial thrust on takeoff. John's face was priceless. He grabbed my arm and squeezed it. I snickered to myself. Finally, we reached altitude and leveled off and John released his grip.
"See, not so bad." I said.
"Sorry about your arm," he offered.
"No problem. First times for everything are always a little scary no matter what it is." I tried to make him feel a little better about being so nervous. I'm hoping for a lot of first time experiences on this trip.
After a bit, John turned to me and asked, "Why did the guy search your bags in the airport?"
"Oh, that," I said. "Well, they thought I had something dangerous, but it was just a mistake."
"What?" he pried.
"It was a gift from my friend back home. It's a spy camera."
He lit up. "Really? Can you show me it?"
"I guess." I pulled it from my pack and handed it over. He turned it over and over. He popped the top off and twisted the dial and took out the inner piece as if he had designed it himself. He fiddled with the wires and wrinkled his nose.
"Nice friend," he finally said. "He spent a lot of money on this. It's a nice assembly."
"You know about spy cameras?" I asked, surprised.
"Well not really, a little. I've seen them on the internet, but I know more about processors, and well, some about cameras for webcams. It's sort of a hobby for me to build my own computers and sell them to people my mom knows," he said. "Can I play with it?"
"Sure, but don't break it," I said.
"Lame hobby," I thought to myself.
He looked at me odd and said, "I won't break it."
"I can't figure out how he did such a balls job of putting the camera in the case without the lens being obvious," I commented, as I peered at the shiny label that covered the lens making it look perfectly normal. "I mean, I know he's good with this kinda stuff but that's like professional."
John looked at me questioningly, almost sizing up if I was messing with him or if I was serious. I guess he decided I was serious, which I was, and said as non-judgmentally as he could, "He didn't make that part. You buy it that way, with the lens already mounted, off the internet. Then you add the other components. And like I said, he spent a bunch of money on you. This is good stuff in here."
"Oh." I felt foolish. Of course, Ricky couldn't have done that professional of a job on it. The steward came by and said it was now okay to turn on our electronics.
"Can we try it out?" John asked, hopeful.
"Sure. Could be fun," I agreed. As John reassembled the camera, a large man with dark hair, dark complexion and very hairy arms walked up to and stood in front of our row to retrieve something from the overhead bin for the third time. He kept taking glances at us. I felt a cold chill whenever I looked at him. He had a bizarre tattoo on his wrist. It was a knife with a cross on the handle and a snake wrapped around the blade. The creepiest thing of all was that his pinky finger and the one next to it were missing, and he just had mangled stubs protruding from his hand. His eyes were black and cold. He was wearing thin, wrinkly, beige pants. He was making a small tent in his thin pants, experiencing a partial stiffie. Once, as our eyes briefly met, he reached down and gave his dick a squeeze. I was unnerved by seeing that done by a grown man. I'd seen it in the school hallways before, but not really by a man in public.
I took the camera from John and pressed the button to start recording. I held it in the direction of the strange guy, resting it on the tray table in front of me. When he walked away, after taking another, creepy, leering look at us, I pushed the button again to stop the camera and pulled out the USB cable. I pulled out and powered up my Mac and downloaded the video.
"Okay, new game to play," I suggested. "We take turns taking video of people on the plane and then the other person has to make up a story about them."
"Cool idea," John agreed. I clicked on the file and we watched the video I just shot.
"OOOHHHH," John said when it went to black, "He's a Russian mafia hit man. He's flying to Germany to murder the Chancellor. He lost two fingers when his cheap Russian hand gun exploded during a mission in Nicaragua. The tattoo is the symbol of the satanic cult he belongs to that drinks the blood of their assassination victims."
"Wow. You're pretty good at that," I said, impressed. There is definitely more to this little guy than I was giving him credit for. He's definitely not just some lame little kid. I prodded him, "But you missed his stiffie in his pants. I thought you'd say something about that."
"What?" John started giggling. "Replay it," I pointed it out and then he could totally see it. We both started giggling like little kids. I hope my laugh changes soon so I don't sound like such a dork.
"Okay, now your turn to video someone," I said.
"Hey, he asked, "what're the other two videos in there?"
"Oh, this one's just me showing the inspector at the airport that it really is a camera." I clicked on it and a close up of my face appeared, did the eyebrow thing and faded out.
"What's that one?" He asked.
"My friend, Ricky, being goofy," I said.
"Show me," he asked. I figured I would; it wasn't really that bad for another kid to see. I played it and John cracked up. "He's goofy."
John took the camera for his turn and asked me, "Can it be anyone?"
"Yeah, but they just can't know you're taping them."
He unbuckled his seatbelt, wiggled past me, and took the camera down the aisle. I watched him stop about eight rows back and set the camera on a tray table and kneel down to pretend to tie his shoe. Then he stood up and walked back to our seats. I was anxious to see who he had videotaped. When I clicked on the folder, a video of about a one year old baby boy, being held by his mommy, was entertaining himself by sticking his hand down her blouse. She would pull it out and shake her head and say "No, no, no, you naughty boy," and he would laugh hysterically and do it again.
I cracked up and thought a minute. "Okay, here goes. He's not really a baby. He's actually a mad scientist from Denmark who discovered a machine that caused his molecular structure to reverse and he used it so many times it took him back to being a one year old. Now he's travelling with his personal assistant, Frieda, who's taking him to see a colleague in Germany to try and figure out how to age him back to normal. Meanwhile, he's taking advantage of the opportunity to get away with what he's wanted to do for years and feel up his big busted assistant." John laughed so hard at this I thought he was going to throw up.
We each took several more turns and I did one on the steward, Eric. I think it annoyed him when I pushed his button for no real reason. We were getting up too much, he told us and we needed to stay in our seats. John asked if he could go to the bathroom and Eric said he could, of course, so after he made up some lame story about Eric being a terrorist, he took the camera for one last run. He had a mischievous smile on his face as he left. After quite a while, he came back and handed me the camera, still smiling.
"What?" I asked suspiciously.
"You'll see."
I downloaded his new creation and at first it was like, showing a floor and then a wall and then it was my turn to crack up. It was an image of John's bare, little butt and he was spreading his cheeks like Ricky had done and was talking to the camera, mimicking Eric, "I thought I told you boys to stay in your seats. If you don't behave, I'll have to spank you!" He slapped his ass several times like he was getting spanked.
The camera jiggled a bit and flashed the floor again and then the wall. Then, I don't know if he thought it was turned off, but it wasn't and when he turned around, it showed his little dick and balls and a small patch of brown pubes. He pulled his shirt up and pulled on his dick a couple times until a stream of yellow pee shot from it. He shook off the last drops, pulled up his shorts and then the image went dark as he gripped it in the palm of his hand to walk back.
"Oh no! Turn it off. Turn it off," he said, grabbing at my Mac. "That was supposed to be off after the butt part." I pulled the laptop away and let it finish, laughing hysterically. Seeing it was hopeless to stop me, he hurled himself against the bulkhead and threw a blanket over his head.
I made a copy of it in another folder, and then pulled the blanket off his head. "Dude, look, I'll erase it, okay." I let him watch as I hit delete and then he knew to make me wipe it, so I did that too. He was bright red with embarrassment.
"Don't be so embarrassed. It was a funny idea. It's not like I've never seen another naked guy before. You see guys in the lockers, right?" I asked.
"Not really, we don't shower at our school."
"Well, you've seen them like in changing rooms at a pool and stuff, though, I bet."
"I guess," he admitted.
"Well, then let's just pretend I happened to stand next to you going pee in a bathroom and saw it. No big deal, right?" I asked.
"I guess." He was warming back up and I think he was appreciative that I didn't tease and harass him about the little mistake.
"By the way?" I said with a smile, "Cute little dick you got there."
"Ahhh!" He said, making a face and throwing the blanket back over his head. I just laughed. Later, he came out from his shell to have lunch and watch the movie.
When the movie ended, we had to pack up the electronics, so we just talked the rest of the way on the descent. Actually, even though he's different from most of my friends, he's a lot like Ricky and is really a very cool guy. He's lived all over the place because of his dad, but when his dad went to Europe, he moved to southern California with his mom to be near his grandparents. It turns out, he lives close enough to me that he'll attend one of the other high schools in our league next year. We play that school in water polo every year and I've been to it a couple of times. We swapped phone numbers and agreed to accept each other as friends on Facebook.
It was a little bumpy on the descent and he grabbed my arm again. I reached over and put my hand on his bare leg just above his knee and gave a reassuring squeeze, with a smile. "Don't worry; it's bumpy like this a lot when you land." He jerked again and actually cried out a bit when the wheels bumped sort of hard onto the tarmac. I felt like a big brother to him as he held on to me for reassurance. I flashed back to when my big brother held on to me and helped me get over being afraid of the water. Now, I swim like a fish and play water polo where the opponents are constantly trying to wrestle with and dunk you under. It felt good to have someone like John rely on me and I smiled inwardly.
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