A young sandy haired youth walked with his head down along Bayswater Road. Not really paying attention to anything in particular, he dragged his feet deep in thought.

"Hey Tony! "A shout came ringing out from McDonald�s Restaurant.

The youth raised his head and turned. Upon seeing a few of his newly found friends, he waved and entered into McDonald�s. A girl of fifteen with blond wavy hair motioned for him to sit next to her.

"So whatcha up to Tony?" The most outspoken of the group asked.

"I was just taking a walk, you know, bored as usual."

"Did ya see anything interesting?"

"I saw a couple of real nice working girls." He replied.

"No use you looking Tony, you�ll never have the cash to afford one anyway. But, I suppose it can�t hurt to window shop."

Tony noticed the girl next to him bow her head. He felt a tinge of regret for saying it, yet he was being honest. He�d only arrived in Kings Cross, the famous red light district of Sydney a couple of day�s before and still wasn�t up on how he should be speaking. It was the first time he�d spent more than a day on the streets, since his parents died eight years before. Looking up at the pretty girl next to him, he saw that she had a tear in her eye.

"What�s the matter?" He asked her in a soft voice, careful not to let the others hear.

"I turned my first trick this morning." She said, her green eyes giving way to the tear. He watched the tear begin to roll its way down her cheek.

"What do you mean?" He asked, after a pause, an absent, though caring expression on his face.

She looked at the young, blue eyed boy before her and saw he didn�t have a clue as to what she meant. She added "I became a working girl this morning."

He just looked at her with his mouth open and wasn�t sure what to say. So instead of speaking he sat there motionless, careful not to look at her, and stared blankly out of the window. He was looking out the window for a short time when he felt a hand on his thigh. He turned. Looking at him she squeezed it.

"I�ll be okay, Tony ".

"Do you feel like a walk, Tracy?"

"Yeah, that�d be nice." She said, jumping off her seat and taking his hand before he knew what was happening. He looked down at his hand in hers, as they walked out of the store. The other kids did too! He thought of removing his hand in embarrassment, yet thought he�d upset her, so he kept it there, accepted it and went out with a smile lighting his face. Tracy was a friendly girl he thought. She had been so helpful with telling him certain things since he�d arrived as a runaway, a few days before. He was surprised with her generosity, but wasn�t in a position to reject it.

As he looked at her now in the sunshine, with her hair blowing in the wind across her slightly tanned face, he knew that Tracy wasn�t the same anymore. He couldn�t place the feeling, but it was as though she�d lost her spark. Today as she walked her mood was sullen and quite, and as he admired her youth, he knew it might soon be lost to the ravages of life in Kings Cross. Her smile, the twinkle in those eyes that had first attracted Tony were all that made Tracy stand out amongst other pretty girls in the Cross and prostitution was only going to destroy them. He felt for her. He had no immediate answers to her dilemma but he had himself and what came naturally to him. As they walked hand in hand, he began to swing her arm, his grip telling her that he cared, and his carefree innocence washing over her.

"Thank you Tony. I�m just so upset. I can�t seem to hold it in."

Tracy stopped walking, turned and embraced him in a hug. He just stood there and relaxed and wrapped his arms around her. Her arms were pulling him tightly. Tony matched her pressure. As they stood in their embrace they were oblivious to the curious looks of some folk and the obvious annoyance of others, which had to side step around them. Silence gave way to small sobs; his young chest feeling the wetness of her tears mingle with his sweat. Tony held her close, like child holds his injured puppy, and nothing else mattered.

Tracy, snuggled into his chest, with her head leaning against it, looked up to him, her face flushed. She mouthed the words, �thank you� and he winked at her and gave her a squeeze.

 

*******

 

"So what have you got for me?" A grubby unshaven man asked, whilst tuning the page of his paper.

"A video recorder, some jewellery and some miscellaneous stuff. Here it is in the box. Have you any cash for me? I�m skint."

"Yeah, in the envelope over there. The one with your name on it." The youth of around sixteen bent over some boxes, stacked untidily in the corner of the room, to reach an envelope marked with his name. He ripped it from the jaws of a bull clip that hung on a rusty nail against the cupboard.

The fat unshaven man lifted his reading glasses and watched the lad. He treasured the boy�s small buttocks, his well defined, muscular legs, and a torso shaped by regular swimming. A top flight performer, this boy, one of the best he had ever come across. The boy was good at what he did. A capable thief, with the best hauls, and strong recruiting powers. More money flowed through this kid�s pocket then any of the others.

"Did the others go with you today, or did they do over some houses by themselves?"

"I told them that I�d work alone today, and I haven�t seem them since."

"When do you think they�ll be getting back, it�s time for me afternoon nap." He said, belching rather rudely.

"Dunno."

"Come over here Slater!"

The boy walked over, watching the man�s eyes as his pupils changed, and that familiar, sinister gaze came over his face. His stomach turned, his buttocks tightened in fear, and he closed down his emotions to block out what was to come. Like a lamb he greeted the touch of the fat man, dumb and silent before the pain began.

 

*******

 

"Tony, what do you think of me?" Tracy asked, holding his hand. Her eyes shone in the light, more so, with the tears that hovered beneath them. The anxiety showed, she looked extremely vulnerable.

"You�re nice Tracy. I can�t put it simpler than that. You�re kind and I like you." A smile lit his face. His blue eyes spoke in reassuring comfort. There wasn�t much he could say. He couldn�t say he loved her, he wasn�t sure what love was. So he just looked into her eyes, hoping, just hoping he had conveyed his message.

Tracy read his eyes, with their compassion and understanding and was glad. Looking further into his eyes, also she could see pain, evidence of a hurt, which was in Tony�s past. Her heart leapt; Tony�s eyes were similar to hers. This made her comfortable. She knew from that moment he was going to look after her. As the elder of the pair, she resolved to look out for him also. She would do her best to support him. That�s if she could face the molestation and penetration of her body for money again. �It might not be that bad�, she thought. �At least I�m charging them now.�

"Do you want to go down the beach." She asked.

"I haven�t got any money." Tony admitted.

"That�s okay, my shout! Come on let�s go!"

Tony thought himself fortunate. He had a sweet girl on his arm, someone that cared for him. He looked up and down the main street of Kings Cross as they set off. He�d travelled to the Australia�s� toughest streets, and now he�d arrived, his education was beginning.

 

*******

 

Sunbathers adorned the yellow sand. A lifesaver�s tower sat in plain view in the middle of the beach, with a few of the famous Manly life savers wandering around the base of it in their Speedo�s. With brown sun drenched backs and rippling muscles, they were an attraction to girls and even to some guys.

The esplanade that stretched along the beach front was also a sight familiar to Manly with it�s roller-blade riders dressed in bikinis or board shorts, people young and old, single, or couples, straight or gay, black or white, walking up and down. Baby�s cried. Young children chased each other and a youthful couple, licked their ice- creams, held hands and watched the surf roll in.

A south east swell of about one and a half meters kept wave after wave sweeping in. On the southern end of the beach, a point broke around the rocky headland and caused rolling waves to form. The waves were growing in height it seemed, as the tide went out, their faces becoming steeper.

Mike looked on, a little envious of the surfers, yet patient with his board waiting in the car. He watched a surfer do a fabulous bottom turn only to bring his board up forcefully to cut a wedge of water off the waves lip. He watched with respect as the young surfer continued with gusto, moving with the energy that comes from a passion within the soul along the face, then suddenly crouch and let the wave�s face break over him. He watched the guy ride inside the tube of the wave for about forty metres then become lost as the wave collapsed upon itself from two directions.

Mike�s chest was one of a model. With highly developed muscles, strong arms and a six pack, his torso provided pleasure to many a woman. Born out of hard work and surfing alone, he was a picture in his loosely fitting singlet as an offshore wind lifted it from his chest. Moving his attention from the surf, he looked at his watch to check the time. It was ten to one. He turned, and walked away from the beach, to the Steyne Hotel.

The Steyne was an unusual place to be meeting the older man. A place, he didn�t think the pervert normally chose. Yet the Steyne, was where he�d first met Peter, so it was apt. The clientele that frequented it ranged from the heavy drinkers to the social ones. It could, at times, have a very relaxed atmosphere, yet that could change in a minute. Like many pubs in Sydney, its patrons had various reasons to visit and many a transaction took place within its confines. The public bar gave Mike the creeps, yet he continued drinking there because he was one of Manly�s local surfers.

As he approached he could see Peter already waiting.

"Hello." Mike said.

"Hi! How�s your day been?"

"All right so far, yet I can see it improving."

"Ain�t that the truth." The old man said, brushing his thinning grey, as the wind blew it.

"Let�s take a seat shall we?" The old man said, as he motioned to a picnic table near the beach.

They walked over to the park bench, Mike noticing that the old fella had a certain spring to his step. Pigeons gave up their positions at the base of the table and moved slowly out of harms way, as both of them sat down at the table, shaded by a large overhanging tree.

Peter flapped his collar and sighed, relieved at being out of the sun�s rays, and catching the offshore wind blowing against his wet chest.

"So, what�s my next assignment?"

"As I said this morning, I want you to sleep with another girl. This time it will be Sharon, Joanne�s friend."

"Sounds good to me so far." Mike said, his blue eyes twinkling eagerly.

"Well here�s what I want you to do." He went on to explain. Sharon has dark hair past her shoulders; she has a rich olive skin and dark brown eyes. She�s very attractive. But more importantly. Sharon is Joanne�s best friend."

" How do you know all of this?" Mike asked impressed.

"Never you mind! "Peter said harshly, cutting him off.

Mike retreated. He didn�t know how he�d overstepped the mark with his question, yet with a reply like that, he knew it must have hit a nerve. He didn�t like the man�s motivations, whatever they were, and thought seriously about just getting up and leaving.

Peter saw Mike�s reaction and asked, "Are you still with me?"

"Sure." Mike said, his enthusiasm waning.

"Okay then, I want you to meet her on the street, outside Joey�s cafe, when they are just starting their shift. She will meet Joanne around four thirty and after an hour or so leave to start work. Here�s five hundred dollars. It should be good for about three hours." Peter said handing him the money.

Mike put the money in his wallet, as he did so, he stole a glance at the older man. His eyes looked very weird. Something about the guy, he couldn�t put his finger on it, disturbed Mike. As he took the time to put the fresh crisp hundred dollar bills in his wallet, he wondered what was so important that a man would spend close to a thousand dollars in two missions. He wondered which girl exactly, held the elder man�s interest and what were his motives.

"I want you to take this Bum Bag. In it I have a voice activated recorder, the size of a deck of cards. I want it to always be with you, so that I can listen to all the information you gain."

"Okay."Mike said; his curiosity being further inflamed. �A dam wire!� He thought. He had never envisaged this type of thing in his wildest dreams, when Peter had first approached him. He had actually felt sorry for the old bloke. But now, his sympathy was all but gone.

"I want you also to make conversation with Sharon. Get her talking. Find out what she likes and, what she doesn�t. Treat her to something and see how she responds. Ask her what interests her. What motivates this girl? I want you to be yourself. Don�t be a client. Don�t act like a client. Ask her questions out of real interest. Be different. Take the time to make her feel comfortable. See if you can gain her trust. What does she do on her days off? Where does she go? And don�t get so distracted this time that you almost forget her phone number."

Mike thought originally that this guy was just a sick old bloke. Though now, his opinion was changing rapidly. This guy didn�t want perverted information. He wanted facts, things that a regular client wouldn�t normally be able to find out. Things the old man probably couldn�t get from her. Who knows, maybe he had tried. But whatever the guys� motivations where, he seemed thorough and he definitely had a purpose for the information He wondered if this guy was from a government body. He certainly fit a profile, with his greying hair, distinguished look and, always well dressed in business attire. Yet the physche he demonstrated made this unlikely. He was professional but no matter how much the man tried to mask his real self, Mike knew he was looking at a sick man. " Is that all you want?" He asked, trying to suppress the sarcasm he felt.

"For the moment." The man replied. He arranged a time to meet the next day and the location, then left. Twenty minutes later, he disappeared on a ferry to the city.

Mike hurried back to his car, and put the wallet in his boot. He grabbed his surfboard, put his keys in a slit in his leg rope and ran onto the beach. He hit the surf. It was cooling, fresh and satisfying. Strong arms dug into the water, and he managed in a short time to paddle out the back. With a stomach full of food and great waves to fill his exercise appetite, Mike figured he had the perfect fore runner for an enjoyable night�s work.

 

*******

 

A knock came to a door in one of the back streets of the Cross. Green paint flaked off the wooden door, showing another coat of green underneath. It hung loosely, the hinges rusted and one of them half unscrewed. A fly screen lay against a cluttered shed a couple of meters away, ripped and broken.

A grubby faced man, unshaven, wiping the sleep from his eyes opened the door. As his eyes focused he growled " Come in. What time is it?"

"One thirty. "Came the reply from the loudest and eldest of the three young men, as they stepped carefully through debris lying on the floor of the hall that lead to what resembled, a dining room. Moving a sleeping cat, a pile of dirty, child porn magazines and a briefcase, they sat down in three chairs. All sat patiently, their gaze blank, awaiting the man they knew as Cyril to start speaking.

"Not very much of a haul today kiddies. Are you holding out on me?"

"How could we hold out on you? Why would we?" One of the new boys asked.

"Well, " the fat man said, wiping his mouth, saliva going onto his hand. "I think that was a pretty poor effort. One of the worst I�ve seen for a day�s work." Ignoring the younger boy�s question, he went on. "So what have you been up to? What�s your reason for this gross incompetence? Hey, What do you think this is?" His tone raised in pitch. His face reddened. Saliva flew from his mouth and a chubby finger pointed in accusation. "Well, I�m waiting!"

The guys looked at each other. Each boy froze, daring another to speak up. They were always scared of this beast; he wasn�t a nice person to know when he was happy, worse when he was like this.

"We had quite a few houses we�d been watching for some days. The people stayed home all day. I dunno, maybe they changed their routine."

"How come Slater comes in here with almost as much as all of you hey? What do you want, more lessons? More help? What?" Veins started popping grotesquely out of his throat, under the rolls of fat. He was good at scaring them. Full of vindication. Little praise, just enough to keep the kids going.

"How do ya expect me to live in the comfort I am used to?" He said, getting up and re-heating a piece of pizza he�d taken from the refrigerator. "I can�t even afford a little boy to sleep with me tonight. Whatcha gunna do for me in that area?" He asked, his eyes looking enthusiastically over the smallest boy, Colin.

The older guy, concerned for the younger, stepped forward. " You know we�re here to please you. We�re doing our best. Look, we made friends with a young guy today. He is fresh to the Cross. Pretty shaken up and naive in a lot of ways. We could point him out if you want. He trusts us. Thinks we are going to look after him. Maybe you can pick him up. We�ll see he�s at the park around eight o�clock. Feed him some bullshit like you�re treating the new kids to the block. Invite him to become a worker for you.

"What�s his name?" Cyril asked, shoving a piece of pizza down his throat, his beady eyes looking down at them.

"Tony. "The older boy said. "We�ve told him a little of what we do, he seems quite interested. He�ll trust us."

*******

 

Mike came in from the beach, surfed out and tired. He trudged up the beach carrying his surfboard. "Mike!" He turned to locate the person who�d called him. He watched a full-busted female running up to him. Her breasts swayed from side to side and she was smiling. Surfing was fun in more ways then one.

"Hi Loran!" He said warmly. She bent over, almost double, hands on her hips. Watching her catch her breath, he waited and saw her throw her hair over her head. With her head bowed over and holding her slim tanned waist, Loran was certainly a stunner. She was an ex girlfriend�s best mate. At times he had wished she were his girlfriend instead of the mate. She always understood him, and trusted him when his ex girlfriend hadn�t. She�d even suggested to him, that he should give his girlfriend something to be jealous about, at one stage, putting the word on him. He�d declined, but it hadn�t been without some regret.

"Sorry." She said, straightening up and looking into those blue eyes she knew so well. Looking him up and down, she nodded her head in approval. Tiny droplets of water had formed, glistening in the refracted sunlight, giving his well-defined muscular body an oiled look. "You are certainly looking after yourself. Any secrets you can share?"

"You don�t need secrets. You look remarkable! You just need someone to appreciate you." He said, playfully patting her bottom, barely covered by a mesh bikini. He walked around her like a man at an auction. "You have no need of secrets girl," he repeated. "How have you been Loran?" He asked with keen interest in his manner.

"Pretty good Mike. Could be better, you know, like everyone." Her hair began to blow across her face, and she brushed it away with her hand. "I must say it is good to see you and you�re looking great!" Her smile was infectious. Her manner easily put one at ease. She had no front, no masks. What you saw is what you got. "I�ve changed jobs. I�m working in the city now, for a law firm. It�s a great job. We do a lot of contract work for the government. Some of the stuff I read is amazing."

Mike�s gut rumbled. The thought of what he had got himself mixed up with, worried him. The mere mention of lawyers seems to make his blood run faster. He wasn�t sure; if what he was doing was a crime. Being party to what Peter had him doing was annoying him. He didn�t even know what possessed him to agree to the stranger�s requests. His silence was audible.

"What�s up Mike?"

"Oh, I�m just caught up in someone that is worrying me. Don�t worry I�ve made my decision. I�m going to fix it up." It had been a year since he�d seen Loran and trying to place the time, he remembered someone else. Hey I haven�t seen you since Dave stopped surfing around here. Have you seen him?"

"No. I haven�t seen him for over a year. I heard he�s a Christian now. He goes to some church. Did you know he was Gay?"

"I had my suspicions, I must confess. He never put the word on me though, never let on at all. It�s remarkable to hear. How did you find out?" Mike asked concerned.

"Oh I forget. She ran her hands through her long hair as she put her face to one side. "I think a friend of mine went to a concert at the Brookvale church and saw him there. That�s right. I remember. She said she saw him go up on stage and become a Christian. After the band finished, they had coffee and stuff and she met him. Apparently he said he was gay and was looking for some answers."

"I wonder if he found them?" Mike�s asked as his voice trailed off, deep in thought.

"Found what? "Loran asked, with a puzzled look on her face.

The answers. I wonder if Dave found the answers he was looking for?"

"I wonder!" Loran sighed.

Mike started to dig some sand up with his toe, and was looking down.

"What are you doing tonight?" Loran began again. "I�m going to a party in the Cross at the Bourbon and Beefsteak."

He met her gaze. He stopped thinking about Dave and answered. "I�ll be busy �til about ten or eleven, I may pop in after that." He noticed her eyes light up at that.

"I�ll see you tonight then, Mike." She smiled pleasantly. �I best be off. It�ll be good to catch up." He watched her continue down the beach.

Mike smiled to himself, what a night; one in a million awaited him.