Date: Sun, 9 Jun 2013 17:06:43 -0700 (PDT) From: Jerlar Subject: Porterville 10 This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law. This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author. All of us enjoy the stories here, so please, support Nifty. Like any other Business, it takes resources to keep it running. I appreciate you, and I know Nifty appreciates your support! Readers, I apologize for the time between chapters. I am on vacation for two weeks. However, I will take the time to slow down at this point and send you another chapter of Porterville. Again, please accept my apology. Mark Stevens CHAPTER TEN Devon went into Britt's arms, and they held each other tightly. Then he pulled back and said, "I need to get up there." "Did your mother say what happened?" Britt asked, tears forming in his eyes. Devon shook his head. "Her words were, `Your father has died, please come', was all she said." "Devon, I feel like I should go with you, but I know it would up upset your mother. What would you like me to do?" "God, I would love for you to come with me, but I understand what you are saying." Devon was thoughtful for a moment. "Why don't you go on home? I'll call you on your cell phone when I know something. It might be a while before you hear from me," he warned. "If that's what you want, then that is what I'll do. I'll go on home and wait for your call. Whatever you need for me to do, I'm here for you." Devon and Britt left in separate cars. Devon drove to his mother's, and Britt went home to wait. He pulled in the drive at his mother's a short time later and walked slowly inside the house. His mother had left a lamp on in the living room, and he turned it off and walked quietly down the hall to his room. He closed the door softly behind him and turned the light on. The clock beside his bed displayed one-thirty on its screen. He lay on the bed, and even though the hour was late, Britt wasn't sleepy. So much was on his mind causing his head to spin. He got up and turned his laptop on. He pulled up a file he had downloaded from one of the disks he had brought from the Beacon. It was one complete set of records for the entire year of 1971. As he scrolled through each page, each day, each month, it appeared to Britt to be just like any other year in the life of Porterville, only exciting to the people's lives it pertained to. He went through January, through February, and finally March. Nothing caught his interest. Britt suddenly set up straighter at his desk. His eyes were tired from his long day and studying the computer screen so intently caused them to water. He took a deep breath and willed himself to study the screen closer. He was reading the section under the heading, "Public Records". It said: MARCH 30TH, 1971, TWINS BORN TO THOMAS AND MARGARET COOPER. NAMES CHOSEN ARE THOMAS JUNIOR AND MARGARET ALICE. So Alice had a twin? Britt could hardly comprehend the words before him. Why had he never heard about her brother before? He would have been seven years old when these babies had been born. He thought back to when he was still at home. Even though he had been very young at the time, surely he would have remembered something like this. All though he had not known Alice well back then, he had known of her. Everyone knew everyone else in a town the size of Porterville. He couldn't explain why, but for some reason this birth announcement of the twins could possibly make for a good mystery plot. Until this moment he had begun to believe there would be no story to come out of Porterville. He read on for quite some time, but nothing else of importance jumped out at him. He was now in the month of July when he read: JULY 21ST, 1971, DONALD DEVON MCKENZIE, BABY BOY BORN TO JOHN AND ELAINE PORTER MCKENZIE. As Britt read the words he felt his heart speed up inside his chest. So this is when Devon came on the scene, he thought to himself. He reread the words once more, thinking of Devon and how important the man had become to him. He leaned back in his chair and thought, Yes, Devon was a very important part of his life, and had been ever since Britt's return to his home town.. He began thinking about the two of them and where their lives might lead. He had not a clue what might take place between them, but he felt that whatever it was, it was going to be good thing. His cell phone rang suddenly and interrupted his thoughts. He quickly answered it. "Hey, Dev, how are you? Are you all right?" "I know it's late, Britt, but can you meet me back at my apartment. I'd like to see you." Britt looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was almost four in the morning. "I'll be right over, Dev." He shut his computer down and found something to write on. He quickly wrote a note to his mother, explaining simply that John McKenzie had passed away quite suddenly, and that he was going to be with Devon. He turned the lamp back on in the living room and placed the note beside it. He knew she would discover it when she went to the kitchen for her morning coffee. Then he quietly left the house and drove to Devon's apartment. Devon met him at the door and pulled him inside. "Thanks for coming, Britt," he greeted. "I really needed to see you." Britt gave him a hug. Then he pulled back and led Devon to the couch. "Tell me what happened." "According to my mother, there's not much to tell. She said he had complained of not feeling well and around eleven o'clock he went to bed. She stayed up to read for a couple of hours, and when she came to bed, she found him. I guess he was alive at the time. She called 911, but by the time they arrived at the house Dad was gone." "I'm assuming it was his heart?" Britt asked quietly. Devon nodded. "I wasn't even aware he had any problems, but according to Doctor Taylor, he had been treating my dad for chest pains." "How is your mother doing?" "She was her usual calm and collected self," Devon answered. "By the time I left, the doctor had given her something to help her sleep. I told her I would be with her today when the final arrangements are made. There won't be much to do because they took care of the details years ago." "Devon, I am so sorry," Britt said. He took Devon's hand and placed it inside his own. "If there is anything at all I can do, you only have to ask. I hope you realize that." "I know," Devon answered quietly. "There is one thing I would like for you to do." "What's that, Babe?" "Would you take me to bed and just hold me? I need to be close to you right now." Britt stood to his feet. "I can do that," he said. He took Devon by the hand and pulled him off the couch. When they were in bed Britt wrapped his arms around Devon. "Let me hold you," he said. They remained in the same position the rest of the night, and just as the sun was beginning to peek inside the bedroom window and fill the room with sunshine, Devon finally fell asleep in Britt's arms. They both were sleeping when the telephone beside the bed interrupted their dreams. Devon turned and reached for it. His mother greeted him on the other end. "Good morning, Devon," she said. "I realize it was a late night and you didn't get much sleep. Neither of us did," she added. "However, there is some business we need to attend down at the bank. Can you meet me there in one hour?" Devon looked at clock beside his bed. It was almost ten o'clock. "I can be there," he answered and ended the call. "Your mother?" Britt asked as he sat up in bed. Devon nodded. "There's some sort of business at the bank. She asked that I meet her there so we could take care of it." They talked a bit longer, and then Britt drove to his mother's house. He knew she would be gone, so he decided to take a quick shower and stop by to see her at the center. After he had showered and dressed, Britt downed a quick cup of coffee and a piece of toast and drove out to the place where his mother was. Catherine Williams saw him walk through the door and got up from her place at the quilting table. She hurried over to meet her son. "Is everything all right, Britt?" she asked. "How is Devon?" "Morning, Mom," he greeted. They found a seat, and Britt told his mother what little he knew about the situation. "Do the ladies here know about it?" he asked. "The news is out," she answered. "I haven't mentioned a word to anyone, but two of the ladies I'm quilting with this morning had already heard the news, and they mentioned it to me. I tried to act surprised and not let on that I already knew about it." "That's good, Mom. You asked about Devon. He's doing fairly well, all things considering. I just hope when things settle down he won't blame himself for his father's death." "Why would he do that?" Catherine asked, her eyes startled. "I'm sure Elaine McKenzie is going to play it up big time and try to place all the guilt she can on her son for moving out. She's going to claim all the extra stress brought this on." "Well, I'm sure it didn't, so you will just have to convince Devon he had absolutely nothing to do with his father's death." "Mom, I found out something I wasn't aware of. I didn't know Alice Cooper had a twin brother. She told me she didn't have any other relatives except the two aunts that were at Margaret's funeral." For a moment Catherine seemed hesitant to speak. Finally she said, "Yes, there was a boy. Named after his father, I believe." "Thomas Cooper Jr. is what the birth announcement read," Britt replied. "That's right," she agreed. "You saw the birth announcement in the old records, did you?" Britt nodded. "I did. Where is this brother now?" Another distant look came into Catherine's eyes once more. "When he was around two years old, he died quite suddenly. Some sort of childhood thing I believe. It's been so long, Britt, I can't really remember what happened." Britt stood to his feet. He smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I know how busy you are, Mom. I won't keep you. I'll see you later this afternoon. I should be home by five unless something comes up." "Is something going to `come up' as you put it, Britt?" she asked a worried look on her face. "I'm not sure, Mom. I was beginning to think I was heading for a dead end here, story wise, but now I feel I might be getting some good possibilities for a mystery plot." "Britt, please promise me something." As Catherine Williams spoke the words, Britt thought his mother had a look somewhat kin to fear on her face. "Please promise to be very careful. Remember these are people's lives you're dealing with, that you're probing into. Privacy is very important to most people, where their personal lives are concerned." "Mom, you have to realize this is only a story and nothing more," Britt reminded his mother. "Britt Williams, how can you say such a thing?" She actually raised her voice as she said the words. "It is their life, and it is their right to keep it their life." Seeing that she was becoming upset, Britt hugged her once more and told her bye. "I'll see you this afternoon," he said and left. Britt's next stop was the Tribune. There he was both surprised and glad to see Alice Cooper sitting at her desk. He greeted her and said, "Alice, you're back at work already?" "Hi, Britt," she answered. "Yes, I came back today. I didn't see much use in staying around the house. My aunts left and I didn't particularly want to stay home alone. I thought it would do me good to come back to work." "You are probably right," Britt agreed. "I know I would feel the same way." He walked around and gave her a hug. "You realize, Alice, that if there is anything at all I can do, you only have to ask?" She returned his hug. "I know that," she said. "You have done so much already. Just being with me has been a comfort." "It doesn't seem like I've done much at all, but if you think I have, I'm glad." Britt took the chair in front of her desk. Looking across at her, he said, "Alice, I didn't realize you had a twin brother." Alice's face had a surprised look for a brief second. Then she said, "Yes, I do. Or rather, I did. When I was two, he came down with some sort of childhood thing and died. I really don't know much about it. Just what little my mother told me," she added. "I'm sorry." Britt didn't know what else to say. "Thank you. You know, I don't really remember him at all, and until now, I never thought about him much. With both my parents gone, it would have been nice to have someone to be with, sort of lean on." "I can understand that, Alice," Britt said. "I am in the same boat you are. When my mother is gone, I will have no one myself, other than a small handful of cousins far away in another state." "My brother is buried in our back yard," Alice said quietly. She suddenly had Britt's full attention. "He is?" She nodded. "There is a little grave marker back there. However my mother would never go about it. When I would mention it to her she would say he wasn't really there." "I guess she was thinking he had gone to heaven so there wasn't any use to visit his grave," Britt remarked. "I know when my father died my mother went regularly to visit his grave. However, as the years have passed, I don't think she goes quite as often." "I guess people react in different ways," Alice decided. "Alice, would you mind if I took a look at your brother's grave? I don't know why I'm curious to see it, maybe because until last night I had always thought of you as an only child like me. Now that I discover you had a brother, well like I said, I'm just curious." "I don't mind at all." She told Britt where the small grave was located in her mother's back yard. "You will see it easy enough. It's all the way to the back fence." Britt soon left the newspaper office and drove to the home where until recently, Alice and her mother had shared with each other. He left his car parked in the drive and hurried through the gate at the side of the house, walking all the way to the back of the yard. Alice had been right; he had no trouble finding the little marker. He read the inscription on the stone: THOMAS COOPER JR. BORN MARCH 30TH, 1971 DIED JUNE 5TH, 1973 Alice's twin brother had died just shortly after their second birthday. Some sort of childhood thing, his mother had said. As Britt thought about those words, he had a hard time believing them. If this had taken place fifty or hundred years before, it might have been easier to accept. However, by 1973, medical knowledge was much more advanced than to just say "death caused by some sort of childhood thing." Britt soon left the Cooper yard and returned to the newspaper office. As he came inside, Alice greeted him with a smile. "Did you find the marker?" she asked. He nodded. "I did, and thank you for allowing me to see it. Like I told you earlier, after I found out you had a brother, I was curious to see where he was." He talked for a moment or two longer and then walked inside the file room. From then until lunch time Britt was lost in the files he brought up on the screen before him. He read each one slowly and carefully, not wanting to miss anything at all. He was convinced now that he could definitely find a story line here in Porterville, and already the writer in him had begun to allow his imagination to run wildly as it thought of all the possibilities that could be out there. He read in the June edition of the Tribune about the death of Alice's twin brother. He had just reached January, 1978 when his cell phone rang. He reached for it and greeted Devon. "Hey, everything all right?" he asked. "God, it's good to hear your voice," Devon greeted. His words sounded strained as they traveled over the air waves. "Where are you?" "Just left the bank," Devon answered. "Mother was right, there was a hell of a lot of business to do. And we've only just begun. We have to meet with the company lawyers this afternoon." "So soon?" Britt was surprised. "Yes. I was a little surprised myself. Do you have time for lunch? I don't have to meet with the lawyers until two this afternoon." Britt looked at his watch. He hadn't realized it was lunch time. "Can you meet me at the Tribune in ten minutes? I should be at a stopping place by then." "Will do, see you soon." Britt laid his phone down on the desk and went back to the files before him. In no time at all he was lost in the town's history. He scrolled to the next page and felt his heart speed up when he read the article. It said: MAN KILLED IN AUTO ACCIDENT- LOCAL MAN, THOMAS COOPER WAS KILLED TODAY WHEN HE LOST CONTROL OF HIS AUTOMOBILE JUST OUTSIDE PORTERVILLE. IT APPEARED THAT COOPER, A LIFE LONG RESIDENT OF THE TOWN WAS DRIVING SOUTH OUT OF PORTERVILLE WHEN HE SUDDENLY LOST CONTROL OF HIS VEHICLE. AFTER MUCH SWERVING AND TRYING TO REGAIN CONTROL OF THE CAR, IT SEEMS HE OVER COMPENSATED AND DROVE OFF PORTER BRIDGE ABOUT ONE MILE SOUTH OF TOWN. HE WAS PRONOUNCED DEAD AT THE SCENE. Britt read the article through twice, hardly believing the words before him. Tom Cooper evidently died of an accident, same as his wife did some twenty-eight years later. How ironic was that, he wondered? Britt was suddenly aware of the time, and he shut the computer down. As he came into the front office, he discovered Alice getting ready to leave for lunch. "Alice?" She turned and said, "Yes?" "Alice, I had no idea your father died in an accident. Not sure what I thought about how he died, but guess I never thought of it being in an accident." She nodded. "He did. He was heading out of town one cold February morning, and lost control of the car. There was ice all over the road. He should not have been out, but my mother said he was determined to run a particular errand. The funny thing is that after all these years, I never knew what that errand was. Mother would never tell me. All she would say was if he hadn't been so determined to go, the accident would never have happened, and we would have had him all these years instead of learning to do without him. She was quite bitter about it for years." "I wonder just where he was headed." Britt asked. "I haven't a clue. Now, with Mother gone, I guess I'll never know." Britt headed for the door. "I'm going to lunch," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit." He saw Devon parked at the curb and hurried down the sidewalk. "Hey," he greeted. "Have you been waiting long?" he asked sliding in the front seat of Devon's car. "Nope," Devon shook his head. "Just pulled up." "This town is full of surprises." Devon backed the car out. "Oh and how so?" "Well, I found out that Alice Cooper has a twin brother. Rather, she did have one. He died in 1973. Just now I found out that Tom Cooper died in an auto accident. I'm finding that pretty peculiar, both he and Margaret dying from the result of an accident." "I guess I didn't know that either. I don't know Alice very well, but I thought she was like me, an only child." "I did, too," Britt said. "Her brother is buried in the Cooper's back yard. I went and saw the stone earlier. He died shortly after their second birthday." "Wow, you are turning things up, aren't you?" Devon pulled into a parking space, and they hurried inside one of the restaurants on the square to order a quick lunch. Over their food Britt said, "So you have another meeting this afternoon?" Devon nodded and said, "Yep, with the law firm of the company. No telling what will be uncovered in that meeting." "You think something crazy is going to happen?" Devon shrugged and said, "Who the hell knows? You never know what's going to take place when the Porters and the McKenzies are involved." They talked over their food, and an hour later Britt was back in the file room at the newspaper office; Devon was off to his meeting. What a day it's been, Britt thought to himself. The town of Porterville definitely had his interest now, and he felt sure by the time he was finished, not only was he going to have a good story, but a lot of other shit was going to be brought to light as well. And somehow, some way, he felt Elaine McKenzie was going to be in the middle of it. For Devon's sake, he hoped like hell he was wrong.