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The Story of Arthur McAllen by Bob

Note: I started writing it months ago. This story is somewhat inspired by Bill by Seamus, but it developed into something different.

"Trevor, your dads are cool!" I said.
"Yeah, well." Trevor blushed.
"Thanks for having me over."

Trevor McAllen dropped me off at my mom’s apartment. My mom died when I was six, and my dad is busy supporting the two of us. I almost forgot to introduce myself. I'm Mason. I'm a sophomore in high school like my best friend Trevor. I'm only fifteen, so I can't drive; Trevor, on the other hand, can. Ever since he got his license, I've been riding along with him. I've been paying for his gas, so its not like I'm mooching off of him or anything. Trevor lives with his dads and biological brother, Tom. I think one of them is their biological dad, but it doesn't matter. I'll call them Mr. A and Mr. B to since they have the same last name.

Trevor is about average height, fairly skinny, and really handsome. All the girls would be crowded except that he is gay. I'm in the closet, but he is fully out. I guess growing up in a house like his helps out. His short, silky dark brown hair that glistens as if it is wet is spiked perfectly in front with a lot of hair gel. The sides of his head are always in a low buzz or shaved. His short hair makes his bright blue eyes pop out, but enough with my rambling.

Mr. A, Tom, and Mr. B have hair just like Trevor’s. Tom, Mr. B and Mr. A all have dark brown hair, blue eyes, and strong jaw lines. I did not look as cool as they do. I just looked average with my light brown hair touching my collar, ears, and eyebrows. I had a few inches on Trevor, but who's counting. Tom was only a few years younger than us.

One day, my dad left on a business trip that would take a few months, and since we didn't have any close relatives, he asked the McAllens if I could stay with them. They said yes, and I was excited to stay with those cool people.

On the way home, Mr. A said with his British accent (he was from London), "Ar- I mean Mason, we will be making a few changes. You will have to start following the rules of our house. Your dad gave us permission to treat you like one of our own. You'll be staying in a room with Trevor."

Trevor and I exchanged an excited look. I always had fun over Trevor's house. This would practically be like our sleepovers that we had as little kids!

When we arrived at the house, Mr. B said, "You may as well start calling this place home."
"Yes, sir, I'll do just that."
Tom walked in and his eyes lit up. "Oh man, I forgot that Arthur would be staying with us!!" He had a British accent like Mr. A. I never questioned why.

I thought he called me Arthur, but that was probably a mistake. Mr. A's name was Arthur, so Tom's tongue probably slipped. Tom, Trevor, and I ate dinner and played video games for the next few hours until Mr. A came up and said that we should go to sleep. We complied, and I was excited to see what the next few months would have in store for us. An alarm went off and I jumped.

"What's wrong?" Trevor asked confused.
"Why is the alarm going off at 8 A.M. during the weekend?"
"Why, it's family workouts! You're living with us, so you'll be apart of our routine."

We went downstairs and saw Mr. A and Mr. B waiting.
Tom and Trevor said in unison, "Good morning Dads."
I said, "Good morning Mr. McAllens"
Mr. A said, "Oh you're living with us now, so cut the formality. Call us Dad! Y'know since we'll be taking care of you and all."
Although I found it odd, I rolled with it. "Ok, Dad. What will we be doing today?"
"Good question, Arth- Mason,"Dad B said, "Today is core."

We spent the next two hours doing various planks, and other exercises that I could hardly keep up with. They made us brunch after that. After the meal they said, "Time for haircuts!"

I got slightly nervous. I wasn't ready for one yet, but Dad A said, "Don't worry about it. You can get the full haircut next week. We'll give you a similar, short haircut. No offense, but neither of us can stand your long hair. That is forbidden in our house. Barry will have you looking smart in no time."
Dad B winked, "No son of ours can have long hair."

"Tom, Trevor, and Arthur, go take a shower while I trim Mason's hair," Dad B said. "Mason, follow me to the barber room." Dad B was a barber, a surgeon, and a decorator, and Dad A was a carpenter, a dentist, and an architect, so it wasn't a surprise that they had a barber room with a chair and decorations of a mini-barbershop. I can't believe I had never seen it. I also couldn’t believe how they kept up with all of those jobs.

"I'll give you a haircut with the shaved back and sides and kind of the shell of a spike, but no hair gel, so you can get used to the haircut. It is a big transition after all. Your first gelling is a big deal too. That’ll come as a surprise along with some other things. Hey, would you mind if we called you Arthur?"
"Uh, sure, Dad, whatever you want."

That was kind of weird, but they were being so kind as to take care of me that I wanted to do whatever they wanted. He got out clippers and a razor and started buzzing away at the sides in back. BZZZZZZZZZ. The long blonde hair on my right fell onto the cape around me. ZHRRRRRRR There went the left. WHSHHH The hair in back fell to the cape. It was a sensation that I had never felt before. The vibration against my head was soothing like a brain massage.I was fully erect by the end of the buzzing. He lathered up the side and back of my head with some warm foam and used his razor to remove all of the stubble. He scissor cut the rest of the top to be a little shorter than his (about an inch). All around me was the blonde hair that had been on my head. Dad B handed me a mirror. It looked like a Caesar cut with pointing down towards the middle. I was almost unrecognizable to myself. I couldn’t even be recognized by family.

He grabbed the little spike and pulled it up. "This is what it will look like with the gel." It looked good.

We went to the other room, and saw Trevor, Tom, and Dad A who had just showered and didn’t have any gel in. It looked like mine. I had never seen them with their hair ungelled.
"WOAH!! I almost yelled ‘STRANGER’," Tom exclaimed. He reached up and felt it. Trevor and Dad A did the same.
"It looks good, Mason," Trevor said.
Dad B corrected him, "Call him Arthur now."

The next day at school, I definitely got some weird stares. Someone even called me new kid. I wasn’t really well known before, so people didn’t ask, "Where’s Mason?"

The next few weeks passed. We had our weekly haircuts, but I still hadn’t gotten gelled. Suddenly, I realized that I had not talked to my dad since he left. My phone had been lost since before my real dad went on the trip, so I went in the kitchen where Dad A was chopping carrots.
"Oh, what do you need, Arthur?"
"I was just wondering if I could borrow your phone or landline. I haven’t talked to my dad in forever."
"Silly, Arthur. We ARE your dads."
"No, I mean my real one."
"What do you mean? Are you not satisfied with us?" He started making tea.
"You guys have been great to me, and I appreciate it, but my dad should be returning soon, and I haven’t talked to him in forever."
"Ok, I’ll go get the phone. Here, have some tea." He smiled warmly.
"Thanks" I took a sip from the tea and waited.

Time seemed to pass slowly. A minute was an hour, and an hour was an eternity. My eyes grew heavy. I yawned. If it had been sixty seconds or sixty years, I could not tell. I grew tired. How many days had I been waiting? I needed to sleep. It had been an eternity since I had closed my eyes. I passed out on the table. It had been three minutes.

I heard voices.
"All done with the wisdom teeth, Barrbear. It’s a good thing we got them out now; they were really grown in for a fifteen year old, Barrbear."
"Don’t call me that, Arthur."
"Come on. Like barber, bear, and Barry?"
"I understand it, but it’s not funny."
That voice continued after a pause, "So how long until he’s ready for the procedure?"
"The Anastasia will wear off any minute, so we need to give him more for MY thing."
"It looks like he’s waking up."

I woke up tied down in a mysterious room with no windows. I was tied to a table. Dad A and Dad B were standing over me.

"Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Why couldn’t you just drop the other man who you call dad? WE’RE your fathers," Dad A said.

I tried to ask, "What are you doing to me?"
However, what came out of my mouth was, "Nyath ahh yuh doim timme?" My tongue felt as if it filled my whole mouth. I could hardly speak.

Dad B said, "Your father pulled out your wisdom teeth and numbed your mouth, so you can’t call for help. Don’t think about running away either. You have a tracking device implanted in two secret spots in your body that will last 10 years. You need to learn that we’re your fathers. I’m not just a surgeon, but a neurosurgeon researching memories, so I’ll use your brain to study the tweaking of certain memories and maybe some other part of my brain."

I tried to scream for help.

Dad A said, "No one can hear you, junior. We’re also going to try to make you look a little more like a McAllen although we won’t do much. Don’t worry you’ll get your gel in a few days."

A mask fell over my face. The sleepiness returned. I battled to stay awake but lost.

I woke up in my bed. My jaw and head hurt. It felt more chiseled than I remembered. It must be puberty. I felt my hair and remembered that I still hadn’t gotten my gel yet. I felt short.

My dear brothers Tom and Trevor were still asleep. I went to the bathroom and washed my face. I don’t recall ever doing that even though I had one memory with me washing my face. That’s weird. I thought my eyes were brown, but they were deep blue. I pulled my hair up to mimic them. Why hadn’t I gotten my gel? I had lived there all my life. I guess I must not have been ready. Stubble was appearing on the sides. I felt the back of my head and felt stitches.

I said to myself, "What are these doing here?"
I was shocked and asked myself if I had always had a British accent. I guess I did.

I almost forgot to introduce myself. My name is Arthur McAllen Jr. I’m 13 and in eight grade. I’m nine months younger than Tom but still in the same grade. Today is my first day transferred over to the middle school My dads, brothers, and I lived in a house together always, and it was a key rite of passage to get your hair spiked with gel. I had a blond short haircut just like theirs, but ungelled. I’ll call my dads Dad A and Dad B to be less confusing.

I went downstairs to see if anyone was there.

Dad A was there, "Good morning, junior. How did you sleep? Glad to see that you’re finally awake!"
"What do you mean? I always wake up early!"
"You’ve been asleep for a few days! You had your head surgery, silly!"
"Oh yeah! I forgot."
"We’re going to Trevor’s friend Mason’s funeral."
I couldn’t remember Mason, but I said, "That’s so sad! What happened?"
"He got sick. It was out of anyone’s control. His dad wasn’t there to say goodbye to him."

Everyone slowly woke up and we did workouts. Today was arms, but a surprise happened after.

Dad B said, "Hey Arthur, sit down in that chair. We have a surprise."
He told me to put on a blind fold. Everyone was whispering excitedly and then I felt it. A hand on my head. It was cool and sticky. Three hands joined in and rubbed around. My hair was swirled around and my middle hairs were pulled up. More and more goop was mixed in my hair. It felt almost magical. I tried to hide my boner. Afterward, my head was sticky and stiff.
"Since you slept through your fourteenth birthday, we postponed the gelling to now. We’re proud of you!" Dad A said.
"You look great! I can’t wait to teach you how to spike your hair later," Tom said with a gleam in his eye.
"No. I’m going to teach him!" Trevor didn’t normally argue so this must be important to him.
"Thanks guys, but you both can teach me after the funeral."

We went to Mason’s funeral and it was sad especially since I couldn’t remember him. Everyone there was eerily familiar, especially his father. The body was contagious, so it was a closed casket. It was a touching ceremony.

The father was broken. He was pale and his eyes were red from tears. My dads had gone to the car already
I went up to him and said, "I’m so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you… You sound so much like him… You even vaguely look like him. Your a little shorter than him, and he would never get his hair cut. That was always an argument," he smiled lost in memory. "Can you do me a favor, uhh what’s your name?"
"Arthur McAllen Jr, and of course I’ll do you a favor, sir."
"Can you give me a hug and whisper in my ear ‘Goodbye dad, I love you.’? You sound so much like him and I need closure. I never got to say a full farewell."
I embraced him tightly. Something inside made me do that. It also made me cry when I told him, "I love you dad, this wasn’t your fault. I love you so much. Goodbye." We both were in tears in front of the grave.That extra part wasn’t me.
Sobbing, he said, "Thank you, Arthur. You don’t know how much this means to me."

His voice still quivering, he smiled and asked me, "Are you Arthur and Barry’s son?"
"Yes, sir."
"I never knew they had a third. Tell your fathers that I said thanks for looking out for him; this wasn’t their fault and I don’t blame them."

I went home with my dads and brother. They taught me to gel my hair and I got through middle school and high school. I joined the air force and became a teacher. I developed the hair gel on the side and gave it the effect to make one like his hairstyle if he uses it as long as it isn’t long. Actually, one of my students (who’s hair I cut) became a barber and turned my family’s hair gel into a brand: Manly Man Hair Gel. Of course, I got some of the ownership.

One day long after my fathers had passed away, I had a strange dream. In it, I was Mason, and my father’s transformed me into Arthur. Crazy, huh? How can a memory suppressed for decades rise through one’s brain and announce itself. It’s like someone who crashes a party that’s almost over. Of course, I was mad at first, but my life turned out so well. I have a loving husband and a few kids, one of which is biological. Anyway, how would my life have played out without a British accent? Thanks for listening to me. I'm sure I sound like a crazy old man, but it's up to you whether or not you believe me.

Author's Note: This obviously wasn't true, so it's up to you not to believe. Experiment 1284 part 2 will come eventually, but I'll be gone for about a month, so the few people who are waiting will wait a little longer. If anyone was wondering, Arthur McAllen Jr. is indeed Mr. McAllen from Whitewalled and Spiky, the first story that I wrote.

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