These memories and thoughts ran through my mind in moments, seconds as I looked at Bobby, naked, clinging to that _d_a_m_n_ed oak tree waiting for me to give him an innocent playtime whipping. He wanted it. I didn't want to do it.
"What's taking you so long, Dad?"
"Nothing, Son, I was just thinking."
I picked up a little switch and struck him across his butt with very little effort. I gave him three more and then stopped.
"Dad, you can do better than that."
"No, I can't, Son. I'm not into it right now. Let's do it later. I'm thinking about something that I'll tell you later. Go play with Alphy."
Bobby's bikini was on the ground. He reached down to pick it up, but the dog beat him to it.
"Alphy, give me that. Give it to me, boy."
The dog took off down the grassy slope toward the dock running back and forth across the great expanse of lawn. Naked Bobby was chasing and yelling at the dog. It was a Norman Rockwell scene. I sat on the grass looking at the two and laughing.
Finally the dog stopped and sat with the bikini hanging out of his mouth. Bobby coached the dog toward him. The dog walked toward the boy and stood up on his hind legs with his paws dangling over Bobby's shoulders.
Frank had been watching everything from a distance. But when Bobby gave up on the "punishment" scene at the tree, Frank came down to sit with me. He had his cameras and was taking pictures of Bobby and the dog.
Bobby put on his bikini. The two pals ran to the dock. The dog jumped into the little sailboat and sat far up on the bow as sort of a look out man (dog). Bobby started the little engine. He untied the boat from the dock, jumped in at the stern and pushed off. He was under power until a hundred feet or so out on the Hudson. He stopped the engine and raised the single sail.
There was a light breeze but enough to keep the boat under sail.
Frank and I walked down to the dock for a closer look. It was a beautiful sight. There were many more Norman Rockwell shots for Frank to take. A boy at the tiller of a small sail boat, a dog sitting proudly at the bow, a glistening river, an orange colored sky and a coastline of beautiful trees shining in magnificent colors.
Frank is a professional photographer and a psychologist. I'm sure a blowup of some of these pictures will hang on my office and home walls.
"Dave, were you thinking of your experience at the oak tree when you were a kid?"
"Very, very much, Frank. The whole thing flashed through my mind. I'll tell Bobby sometime soon about what happened there."
Jeffrey was late coming home from Columbia University. His helicopter landed at White Hall a few moments ago, and the staff told him where we were. He came running down to the dock all excited.
Jeffrey's admission to the University of Southern California MBA program had been approved. He was going to return with us to California. Work at the foundation and study at U. S.C. Jeffrey was raised by his mother in a poor area of New York City. His high school talents were brought to my attention through some contests he won that was setup by my foundation. I financed his entire Columbia education. We had reason to celebrate tonight.
There's a whistle at the dock to call in our boaters. I used it to signal to Bobby to come ashore. He lowered his sail, put the boat under power and motored back to the dock.
After dinner that night Bobby, Jeffrey, Frank and I sat on the South Portico main terrace under a full Moon. We talked going home to California and our plans for the future. Jeffrey would be staying with Bobby and me while making his arrangements with U. S.C. I thought but did not mention anything to Bobby or Jeffrey that there might be lovers conflict with Steve. Bobby's young friend and lover might not like sharing Bobby with Jeffrey. Oh, well, let them work that out.