"We have to do it," Tessa said resolutely as she picked up laundry off
Richie's floor.
"It's time," Duncan agreed, stripping the bed.
"We can't live in the past."
"We have to accept what happened."
"He's not coming back."
"We can't pretend he is."
"He's." Tessa started. "He's." she tried again as tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't say it!" she finally sobbed. "I want him to come home!"
"I know, Tessa," Duncan soothed, putting his arms around her. "We aren't giving up hope. We're just moving on. Richie wouldn't want us to sit around like zombies."
"I miss him so much! How could someone do this?! He was just a child. A baby!"
"It's been three years. we have to move on. He's not coming back."
"I can't bury an empty coffin, Duncan," Tessa told him. "I can't!"
Two weeks later, Tessa, Duncan, Nikki, Angie, some of Richie's other friends, some foster parents, social workers, and even a few police officers stood around the coffin suspended above the ground by a pulley system. Duncan looked around, surprised by how many people had shown up for the missing boy's funeral.
"Richard Ryan, may you rest in peace," the priest finished.
The coffin filled with Richie's most prized possessions and some mementos from his friends and well wishers was lowered into the ground. Duncan had bought the plot next to Emily Ryan to bury Richie. It felt right to let his memory stay in Seacouver where he had grown up.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. MacLeod, Ms. Noel," Angie said when the service was over. "I really thought he was going to go places and you were going to be the ones to get him there. He really liked you guys."
"Thank you, Angie," Duncan said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I know you were a good friend of his."
"You guys were the best thing that ever happened to him," Nikki said before leaving abruptly.
Everyone gave their condolences after introducing themselves.
"There never was a dull moment in the house with Richie around," a foster father had said. "He was a great kid."
"The highlight of my day was dealing with that kid," Officer Manon said. "He may have had a temper but he was quick witted. He must of thought very highly of you because we didn't see him much after he moved. He may have been a trouble magnet, but he was a good kid."
After everyone had left, Tessa and Duncan took a minute to say good bye before they went home.
"Mon petit," Tessa whispered. "If you can, come home."
"I swear. if you show up on our doorstep." Duncan issued the empty threat. "Just behave yourself. wherever you are."
Richard Ryan
September 20, 1974
We Miss You
While Duncan and Tessa were trying their best to always remember; Richie was forcing himself to forget. Little by little his memory of living anywhere but at his master's manor faded away. Soon all he was left with were mysterious dreams he could barely remember when he woke up.
. . . . . .
Richie woke up to the smiling face of Mamma. "Good morning, Mamma."
"Good morning, boy. Time to get up."
"Yes, Mamma."
Richie sat up and let Mamma brush his hair. She smiled at him then went to wake the other children. Richie followed with a spring in his step. They went from bed to bed waking each child as they passed. Mamma would shake the child awake and Richie would brush their hair before they got up to go to breakfast. First they woke all the boys then woke all the girls.
When Richie got to the bed fifth from the door on the right wall, he grinned sheepishly as he moved to brush her hair. "Good morning, girl," he said quietly.
"Good morning, boy," she answered just as quietly.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes."
"Will you be rewarded today?"
"Yes, Master said I may play with whomever I choose after lunch."
"Who do you choose?" Richie asked, hoping it was him.
"A kitchen boy," she told him.
"Oh." Richie didn't work in the kitchen.
"Boy," Mamma called. "It is time to go to next girl."
Richie blushed, having been caught flirting, and moved to his task. Once the last girl had had her hair brushed, Richie and Mamma went to the children's dining room. Richie stood in his place at the head of the long table. Less than a minute later, the door opened and Master came in. The children all dropped to the floor and bowed.
"Good morning, children," he greeted them.
"Good morning, Master," they chorused.
"You may sit." The children stood up and took their seats. The table was higher than usual, about chest high when the children sat down. Master and Mamma set bowls of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, butter, and jelly on the table at strategic points. Master made breakfast for the children every morning. The children whom the bowls had been set in front of served themselves then passed it to their right. Once the bowls had made it all the way around the table, they all held hands and bowed their heads.
"Holy Master, thank you for the food. Bless my Master," they all recited. "Bless my brothers. Bless my sisters. Bless Mamma. And help me to be a good boy/girl. Amen."
They let go of their hands and started shoving food into their mouths. Master smiled and went from child to child pouring juice or milk depending on what they wanted. He went down the two sides and saved Richie for last.
"How is my baby boy?" he asked squeezing Richie on the shoulder.
"Bwrygootatu," Richie answered around his toast and bacon.
Master laughed at him. "You are a child. Would you like to help me today?"
"Yes, Master," Richie said excitedly. It was always a treat to help Master. The work was light and he nearly always got to watch a movie or play with the dogs for most of the day.
"I have a present for you," he whispered in his ear. "Help the kitchen children clear the table and then wait for me in the nursery."
"Yes, Master."
The first time Master had promised Richie a present, he had gotten a new collar. Instead of plain black leather, his was now light blue with a gold tag hanging from it with his number engraved on it. He wondered what he would be getting next.
"Master has a present for me," he told Mamma as he piled dishes on a cart.
"Then boy must finish his chores to go see what it is."
Richie smiled and pushed his cart into the kitchen. He rinsed each dish before handing it to a girl who put them in soapy water.
"Master has a present for me," a boy said in a high squeaky voice, glaring at Richie.
"So?" Richie asked.
"It's not fair," the boy said. "You're nothing special."
"You're jealous."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Boys!" Mamma scolded from the doorway. "What are boys fighting about?"
"He's jealous," Richie said, pointing accusingly at the other boy. "'Cause Master likes me better!"
"Now, boy," Mamma told him gently. "You are being rude. Boy has not hurt you. Apologize."
Richie looked at the other boy. "I'm sorry."
"Boy, too," Mamma told the other boy.
"I'm sorry."
"Now make up."
The two boys hugged and gave each other a kiss on the cheek, then looked at Mamma for her approval. "Very good. Now boys must finish their chores."
Ten minutes later, Richie was sitting in his large bed in the nursery waiting for Master to come with his present. He got tired of waiting and stood up. He had been jumping on the bed for a couple minutes when Master came in.
"Boy," he tried to scold, but he was smiling. "Are you allowed to do that?"
Richie folded his legs under himself in midair and landed on his butt. "Do what?" he asked as if he had been sitting on the bed the entire time.
"Ahem," Master cleared his throat.
"Oh, yeah." Richie slid off the bed and crouched on the floor.
"You must remember yourself," Master told him. "I know you are young, but you will offend my guests. You don't want to do that, do you?"
"No, Master," Richie answered to the floor. "I'm sorry."
"That's better. But maybe you aren't ready for your present."
"I'll be good!" Richie insisted straitening up. "Please?"
Master pretended to debate it, then handed Richie the brightly wrapped box. With a big grin, Richie ripped the paper and opened the box. Inside was a new set of shackles. But instead of being made of iron like the other children's and the ones he wore now, they were shiny and gold. There was also a thin gold leash.
"Do you like them?"
"Yes, Master," Richie answered quickly. "They're beautiful."
"I knew you would like them."
"Yes, Master. You are very kind." Richie bowed again. "You are too generous; I am undeserving."
"You're my baby boy," Master told him petting his head, prompting him to look up. "You are very special to me. I want you to be happy."
"Thank you, Master," Richie smiled, throwing his arms around Master's neck.
Master kissed his cheek. "You are welcome. Would you like me to help you with them?"
"Yes, Master," Richie said eagerly, thrusting the box into Master's hands.
. . . . . .
Richie happily followed Master through the corridors smiling proudly every time a guest passed. He was very happy every time Master stopped to talk to someone so he could kneel and hold his head up high to show off his leash. A few people commented on his shackles. He had decided to wear the chains as well, even though he hadn't worn chains in months, to show off that he was special. That day he followed Master around the manner, carried his papers, and got to play in the office while he scheduled guests.
He was happily making one porcelain figurine attack another one when there was a knock on the door. Richie automatically got up to open it. A man walked in toting the boy Richie had been fighting with that morning behind him.
"This boy needs to be punished," the man said as he threw the boy to the floor.
Richie closed the door and knelt beside it, ready to spring up and open it when the man was ready to leave.
"What has he done?" Master asked, looking at the boy who had already assumed the submissive position that all the children used to show Master respect.
"He can't perform the duties I paid for him to do! He's limp!"
"He is, is he? Has he offered to find a solution to your problem?"
"No, he just sat there and stared at himself!"
"Then he will be punished. Would you like to do it, or would you rather I deal with him?"
"You do it, and I want a new boy!"
"Very well," Master said calmly. "Would that boy be satisfactory?" He gestured to Richie, who was kneeling by the door.
Then man turned around. "Stand up, boy," he ordered. Richie stood and kept his head bowed. "He looks expensive," he commented, fingering Richie's shackles.
"I assure you that you will not be paying the higher rate."
"Then I'll take him."
"Very well." Master helped the other boy up off the floor and told Richie to take him to the boys' room and then meet the man in his chambers. Richie nodded, took the other boy's leash and left the room.
"Thanks a lot," He mumbled over his shoulder as he led the boy down the hall.
"For what, making you do what everyone else does?"
"I was serving Master," Richie said turning around to face the boy. "I don't like serving guests."
"But Master told you to, so you have to," the other boy pointed out as they entered the serving boys' room.
"I'm going to tell Mamma," Richie told him with a smug smile. "She won't make me."
"I bet she does."
"Not if I tell her I don't want to."
"You're such a baby. You always think you can get what you want," the other boy pouted.
"I can. See this?" Richie asked him, holding up his leash to the one still grasped in his hand. "He gave me this. It's better than yours is. Yours should be on a dog!"
"Take that back."
"Or what?" Richie challenged. In response, the boy hit Richie hard across the jaw, sending him stumbling back a few paces. Since he still had the other boy's leash in his hand the boy was forced to follow. Richie swung hard and hit the boy so hard he fell. He knelt over him and started swinging. Mamma found them rolling on the floor, yelling, and hitting.
"Boys!" she yelled kicking at the two to get their attention. They ignored her and kept fighting. "Go get Master," Mamma told the girl that had come in with her to change the sheets.
"What is this!?" Master yelled angrily pulling Richie off of the boy. "Why are you fighting?"
"He started it!" the boys accused at the same time.
Master looked at Richie and his split lip. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly putting a hand on Richie's cheek. Richie nodded. "Why is he bleeding?" Master asked the other boy. The boy didn't answer. "You know better than to hit him. He's a baby. You can easily hurt him and you have."
"He hit me, too," the boy defended.
"You hit me first!" Richie countered.
"Mamma, please clean them up and then bring them to my office."
Ten minutes later, Richie and the boy were kneeling on the floor while Master paced in front of him. "How dare you two be so immature!? You know better than to fight with your brothers. much less hit one. And you," he pointed at the boy next to Richie. "You know better than to hit a baby."
"Yes, Master," the boy mumbled.
"It is only fit that you be punished. You will spend two days in Time Out starting tomorrow morning. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"And you," he turned to Richie. "You will serve boy his meals. Starting tomorrow at breakfast."
"Yes, Master," Richie said.
"And when you are not serving, boy, you will stand in the corner and not speak for one day."
"Yes, Master."
"And you will serve your guest. And he may punish you for being late."
"I don't want to," Richie protested.
"I was going to find someone to take your place," Master told him squatting so they were eye to eye. "Because I know you don't like to serve guests you don't know in chambers. but I think that will a good reminder that you are not to fight, do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
The other boy tried not to hide his anger. He would have been beaten for questioning what he was told. But Master didn't so much as scold Richie. It wasn't fair.
"Now you may both go."
Richie's guest beat him pretty badly for being late. But once that was over, he was ready to get down to business.
That night Richie ate his dinner quietly while glaring at the boy down the table from him. He hated being in trouble. Master rarely punished him and when he did it was all Richie could do to keep from throwing a fit. He had done that the first time and had been spanked for doing it and his punishment still stood.
He and the boy were taken to the Quiet room right after dinner. They were being punished and were not allowed to hear the bedtime story Master was going to read to the other children. After saying their prayers, they were put in the same bed. Richie didn't like sharing a room with the other boys so he usually got to sleep in the nursery. But Mamma stood firm that he was to share a bed with the other boy that night. He was sure he could find some way of getting Master to change or shorten his punishment, he just had to think for a while and it would come to him. 'Well, maybe in the morning.' Richie continued to pout silently until he finally fell asleep.
"It's time," Duncan agreed, stripping the bed.
"We can't live in the past."
"We have to accept what happened."
"He's not coming back."
"We can't pretend he is."
"He's." Tessa started. "He's." she tried again as tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't say it!" she finally sobbed. "I want him to come home!"
"I know, Tessa," Duncan soothed, putting his arms around her. "We aren't giving up hope. We're just moving on. Richie wouldn't want us to sit around like zombies."
"I miss him so much! How could someone do this?! He was just a child. A baby!"
"It's been three years. we have to move on. He's not coming back."
"I can't bury an empty coffin, Duncan," Tessa told him. "I can't!"
Two weeks later, Tessa, Duncan, Nikki, Angie, some of Richie's other friends, some foster parents, social workers, and even a few police officers stood around the coffin suspended above the ground by a pulley system. Duncan looked around, surprised by how many people had shown up for the missing boy's funeral.
"Richard Ryan, may you rest in peace," the priest finished.
The coffin filled with Richie's most prized possessions and some mementos from his friends and well wishers was lowered into the ground. Duncan had bought the plot next to Emily Ryan to bury Richie. It felt right to let his memory stay in Seacouver where he had grown up.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. MacLeod, Ms. Noel," Angie said when the service was over. "I really thought he was going to go places and you were going to be the ones to get him there. He really liked you guys."
"Thank you, Angie," Duncan said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I know you were a good friend of his."
"You guys were the best thing that ever happened to him," Nikki said before leaving abruptly.
Everyone gave their condolences after introducing themselves.
"There never was a dull moment in the house with Richie around," a foster father had said. "He was a great kid."
"The highlight of my day was dealing with that kid," Officer Manon said. "He may have had a temper but he was quick witted. He must of thought very highly of you because we didn't see him much after he moved. He may have been a trouble magnet, but he was a good kid."
After everyone had left, Tessa and Duncan took a minute to say good bye before they went home.
"Mon petit," Tessa whispered. "If you can, come home."
"I swear. if you show up on our doorstep." Duncan issued the empty threat. "Just behave yourself. wherever you are."
Richard Ryan
September 20, 1974
We Miss You
While Duncan and Tessa were trying their best to always remember; Richie was forcing himself to forget. Little by little his memory of living anywhere but at his master's manor faded away. Soon all he was left with were mysterious dreams he could barely remember when he woke up.
. . . . . .
Richie woke up to the smiling face of Mamma. "Good morning, Mamma."
"Good morning, boy. Time to get up."
"Yes, Mamma."
Richie sat up and let Mamma brush his hair. She smiled at him then went to wake the other children. Richie followed with a spring in his step. They went from bed to bed waking each child as they passed. Mamma would shake the child awake and Richie would brush their hair before they got up to go to breakfast. First they woke all the boys then woke all the girls.
When Richie got to the bed fifth from the door on the right wall, he grinned sheepishly as he moved to brush her hair. "Good morning, girl," he said quietly.
"Good morning, boy," she answered just as quietly.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes."
"Will you be rewarded today?"
"Yes, Master said I may play with whomever I choose after lunch."
"Who do you choose?" Richie asked, hoping it was him.
"A kitchen boy," she told him.
"Oh." Richie didn't work in the kitchen.
"Boy," Mamma called. "It is time to go to next girl."
Richie blushed, having been caught flirting, and moved to his task. Once the last girl had had her hair brushed, Richie and Mamma went to the children's dining room. Richie stood in his place at the head of the long table. Less than a minute later, the door opened and Master came in. The children all dropped to the floor and bowed.
"Good morning, children," he greeted them.
"Good morning, Master," they chorused.
"You may sit." The children stood up and took their seats. The table was higher than usual, about chest high when the children sat down. Master and Mamma set bowls of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, butter, and jelly on the table at strategic points. Master made breakfast for the children every morning. The children whom the bowls had been set in front of served themselves then passed it to their right. Once the bowls had made it all the way around the table, they all held hands and bowed their heads.
"Holy Master, thank you for the food. Bless my Master," they all recited. "Bless my brothers. Bless my sisters. Bless Mamma. And help me to be a good boy/girl. Amen."
They let go of their hands and started shoving food into their mouths. Master smiled and went from child to child pouring juice or milk depending on what they wanted. He went down the two sides and saved Richie for last.
"How is my baby boy?" he asked squeezing Richie on the shoulder.
"Bwrygootatu," Richie answered around his toast and bacon.
Master laughed at him. "You are a child. Would you like to help me today?"
"Yes, Master," Richie said excitedly. It was always a treat to help Master. The work was light and he nearly always got to watch a movie or play with the dogs for most of the day.
"I have a present for you," he whispered in his ear. "Help the kitchen children clear the table and then wait for me in the nursery."
"Yes, Master."
The first time Master had promised Richie a present, he had gotten a new collar. Instead of plain black leather, his was now light blue with a gold tag hanging from it with his number engraved on it. He wondered what he would be getting next.
"Master has a present for me," he told Mamma as he piled dishes on a cart.
"Then boy must finish his chores to go see what it is."
Richie smiled and pushed his cart into the kitchen. He rinsed each dish before handing it to a girl who put them in soapy water.
"Master has a present for me," a boy said in a high squeaky voice, glaring at Richie.
"So?" Richie asked.
"It's not fair," the boy said. "You're nothing special."
"You're jealous."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Boys!" Mamma scolded from the doorway. "What are boys fighting about?"
"He's jealous," Richie said, pointing accusingly at the other boy. "'Cause Master likes me better!"
"Now, boy," Mamma told him gently. "You are being rude. Boy has not hurt you. Apologize."
Richie looked at the other boy. "I'm sorry."
"Boy, too," Mamma told the other boy.
"I'm sorry."
"Now make up."
The two boys hugged and gave each other a kiss on the cheek, then looked at Mamma for her approval. "Very good. Now boys must finish their chores."
Ten minutes later, Richie was sitting in his large bed in the nursery waiting for Master to come with his present. He got tired of waiting and stood up. He had been jumping on the bed for a couple minutes when Master came in.
"Boy," he tried to scold, but he was smiling. "Are you allowed to do that?"
Richie folded his legs under himself in midair and landed on his butt. "Do what?" he asked as if he had been sitting on the bed the entire time.
"Ahem," Master cleared his throat.
"Oh, yeah." Richie slid off the bed and crouched on the floor.
"You must remember yourself," Master told him. "I know you are young, but you will offend my guests. You don't want to do that, do you?"
"No, Master," Richie answered to the floor. "I'm sorry."
"That's better. But maybe you aren't ready for your present."
"I'll be good!" Richie insisted straitening up. "Please?"
Master pretended to debate it, then handed Richie the brightly wrapped box. With a big grin, Richie ripped the paper and opened the box. Inside was a new set of shackles. But instead of being made of iron like the other children's and the ones he wore now, they were shiny and gold. There was also a thin gold leash.
"Do you like them?"
"Yes, Master," Richie answered quickly. "They're beautiful."
"I knew you would like them."
"Yes, Master. You are very kind." Richie bowed again. "You are too generous; I am undeserving."
"You're my baby boy," Master told him petting his head, prompting him to look up. "You are very special to me. I want you to be happy."
"Thank you, Master," Richie smiled, throwing his arms around Master's neck.
Master kissed his cheek. "You are welcome. Would you like me to help you with them?"
"Yes, Master," Richie said eagerly, thrusting the box into Master's hands.
. . . . . .
Richie happily followed Master through the corridors smiling proudly every time a guest passed. He was very happy every time Master stopped to talk to someone so he could kneel and hold his head up high to show off his leash. A few people commented on his shackles. He had decided to wear the chains as well, even though he hadn't worn chains in months, to show off that he was special. That day he followed Master around the manner, carried his papers, and got to play in the office while he scheduled guests.
He was happily making one porcelain figurine attack another one when there was a knock on the door. Richie automatically got up to open it. A man walked in toting the boy Richie had been fighting with that morning behind him.
"This boy needs to be punished," the man said as he threw the boy to the floor.
Richie closed the door and knelt beside it, ready to spring up and open it when the man was ready to leave.
"What has he done?" Master asked, looking at the boy who had already assumed the submissive position that all the children used to show Master respect.
"He can't perform the duties I paid for him to do! He's limp!"
"He is, is he? Has he offered to find a solution to your problem?"
"No, he just sat there and stared at himself!"
"Then he will be punished. Would you like to do it, or would you rather I deal with him?"
"You do it, and I want a new boy!"
"Very well," Master said calmly. "Would that boy be satisfactory?" He gestured to Richie, who was kneeling by the door.
Then man turned around. "Stand up, boy," he ordered. Richie stood and kept his head bowed. "He looks expensive," he commented, fingering Richie's shackles.
"I assure you that you will not be paying the higher rate."
"Then I'll take him."
"Very well." Master helped the other boy up off the floor and told Richie to take him to the boys' room and then meet the man in his chambers. Richie nodded, took the other boy's leash and left the room.
"Thanks a lot," He mumbled over his shoulder as he led the boy down the hall.
"For what, making you do what everyone else does?"
"I was serving Master," Richie said turning around to face the boy. "I don't like serving guests."
"But Master told you to, so you have to," the other boy pointed out as they entered the serving boys' room.
"I'm going to tell Mamma," Richie told him with a smug smile. "She won't make me."
"I bet she does."
"Not if I tell her I don't want to."
"You're such a baby. You always think you can get what you want," the other boy pouted.
"I can. See this?" Richie asked him, holding up his leash to the one still grasped in his hand. "He gave me this. It's better than yours is. Yours should be on a dog!"
"Take that back."
"Or what?" Richie challenged. In response, the boy hit Richie hard across the jaw, sending him stumbling back a few paces. Since he still had the other boy's leash in his hand the boy was forced to follow. Richie swung hard and hit the boy so hard he fell. He knelt over him and started swinging. Mamma found them rolling on the floor, yelling, and hitting.
"Boys!" she yelled kicking at the two to get their attention. They ignored her and kept fighting. "Go get Master," Mamma told the girl that had come in with her to change the sheets.
"What is this!?" Master yelled angrily pulling Richie off of the boy. "Why are you fighting?"
"He started it!" the boys accused at the same time.
Master looked at Richie and his split lip. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly putting a hand on Richie's cheek. Richie nodded. "Why is he bleeding?" Master asked the other boy. The boy didn't answer. "You know better than to hit him. He's a baby. You can easily hurt him and you have."
"He hit me, too," the boy defended.
"You hit me first!" Richie countered.
"Mamma, please clean them up and then bring them to my office."
Ten minutes later, Richie and the boy were kneeling on the floor while Master paced in front of him. "How dare you two be so immature!? You know better than to fight with your brothers. much less hit one. And you," he pointed at the boy next to Richie. "You know better than to hit a baby."
"Yes, Master," the boy mumbled.
"It is only fit that you be punished. You will spend two days in Time Out starting tomorrow morning. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"And you," he turned to Richie. "You will serve boy his meals. Starting tomorrow at breakfast."
"Yes, Master," Richie said.
"And when you are not serving, boy, you will stand in the corner and not speak for one day."
"Yes, Master."
"And you will serve your guest. And he may punish you for being late."
"I don't want to," Richie protested.
"I was going to find someone to take your place," Master told him squatting so they were eye to eye. "Because I know you don't like to serve guests you don't know in chambers. but I think that will a good reminder that you are not to fight, do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
The other boy tried not to hide his anger. He would have been beaten for questioning what he was told. But Master didn't so much as scold Richie. It wasn't fair.
"Now you may both go."
Richie's guest beat him pretty badly for being late. But once that was over, he was ready to get down to business.
That night Richie ate his dinner quietly while glaring at the boy down the table from him. He hated being in trouble. Master rarely punished him and when he did it was all Richie could do to keep from throwing a fit. He had done that the first time and had been spanked for doing it and his punishment still stood.
He and the boy were taken to the Quiet room right after dinner. They were being punished and were not allowed to hear the bedtime story Master was going to read to the other children. After saying their prayers, they were put in the same bed. Richie didn't like sharing a room with the other boys so he usually got to sleep in the nursery. But Mamma stood firm that he was to share a bed with the other boy that night. He was sure he could find some way of getting Master to change or shorten his punishment, he just had to think for a while and it would come to him. 'Well, maybe in the morning.' Richie continued to pout silently until he finally fell asleep.