An Uncommonly good Man 23

The Journal of Julian Corsair,

An Uncommonly Good Man

Julian Corsair – Chapter Twenty-three – "And the night shall be filled with music and the cares that infect days shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, and as silently steal away."- (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Pauley and I planned our nuptials for early October, not in Minnesota, but Iowa, in the city where I received my PhD. It was a city with which I was familiar; a city filled with university students and traditions as old as time, but a city welcoming diversity, served so palatable, delectable, dining on it was a pleasure. In the meantime, Pauley had work to do and enlisted me as his helper since Ben was in school all day.

In the three days since my revelations to Pauley and Ben, the only changes I thought I could notice; Pauley seemed to become more loving, more attentive, more caring, if that were possible. Ben became more protective, warmer, and open with me; treating me as someone of kindred spirit who held no threat but love toward him instead. The realization of what can happen to gay kids who work the streets for whatever reason, impacted him, made him more aware, more compassionate not only toward me, but for those unseen brethren he knew were suffering somewhere in the world.

The fifteenth of September, after school while Pauley was showering after returning from a particularly messy day draining pipes and winterizing half-dozen cottages, Ben peered furtively at me, cocking his head through the interior door to the porch, where I sat waiting with a brandy for Pauley and me.

"Matt," he hissed conspiratorially, "tomorrow is Uncle Paul's birthday. What are we going to do?"

"Well, Ben," I responded seductively, "I know what I'm going to do."?

He blushed and snorted, "He's my uncle; I can't do that!"

"Then, why don't we go out for supper and have a nice relaxing evening at home?" I proposed.

"Great, but shouldn't we get him a present or something too?"

I nodded, saying quietly, "I'll think of something, okay?"

He grinned and disappeared back into the house.

I'd thought of that, in fact, we'd been so busy; his birthday slipped my mind and snuck up on me as silently and quickly as a thief in the night or a popcorn fart after a sneeze. He'd be twenty-five years of age on the morrow and, if I wasn't mistaken in my previous ponderings, it just might be a significant day. Of course, reaching twenty-five is a very significant day in some cultures and certainly was years ago when young people were often to have assumed to reached maturity by then and responsible for handling financial affairs.

It wasn't so with Julian and me however. When I turned twenty-five I'd already received my PhD and a teaching position at UW-La Crosse. It seemed so long ago, but really wasn't but three years past. So much had occurred since then; Julian passed away, I was laid off, and I moved north to live and met Pauley.

Julian and I went out for supper, had a few drinks, and that was it! Although it may not seem like much to many, it was a special night for me. For some reason, Julian seemed to take on a special air in his looks, his actions, and conversation with me. His body language, the way he moved around me, touching me, or smiling, seemed to bestow on me an almost familial recognition and acceptance, although we're not related by blood, but by friendship. I thought, that night, the father I dreamed of all my life was manifested in him; not biologically, but physically, spiritually, and emotionally. Julian treated me as a loving uncle would treat his nephew – much as Pauley treated Ben now – and that was good!

Fingering the silver necklace Julian gave me years before for Christmas, I realized a similar gift for Pauley would perfect and decided I'd sneak away in the morning to Lake View and a jewelry store to make the purchase. My reverie was interrupted by the laughing, teasing banter between Pauley and Ben as they emerged from the house onto the porch.

"You mean `genealogy' don't you, Ben?" Pauley teased, "Not gynecology, right?"

"Yeah," snorted Ben in response, "that's what I said."

"Not quite," Pauley shot back, "one looks up ancestors and the other looks up a woman's ..."

With that, I quickly interrupted, "Pauley, your brandy is ready and I have a soda for you Ben."

The both sat at the small table, grinning at each other, sharing the joke and Ben's misunderstanding.

"Okay, you two, what's up?" I questioned, wondering just what the hell was going on.

"Ben has a school project." Pauley answered quickly.

"Yeah," quipped Ben, "we have to do a family tree and sort out our ancestors. The only ones I know are Great-Grandma La Pont, Grandma and Grandpa La Pont and now, from the Dr. Corsair's journal, Great-grandfather Lester La Pont, but beyond that, not a clue. Well, I take that back, I do know Grandma Rosa's family in Upper Michigan and she can help me sort that out, but Grandpa's family, except for Great-grandmother Adele, are a mystery to me."

Pauley shrugged, "You know, I don't know much beyond that either! Dad never talked much about his family; nothing to be ashamed of I'm certain, but still never said much."

"Somebody better say something," Ben offered, "because if I don't have some information before next Monday written in the paper I'm supposed to have done, I'll get an incomplete and that'll piss everybody off, especially me."

"Maybe you'll get some more information from Dr. Corsair's journal," I suggested, as the three of us snuggled up on the couch after supper for Pauley to read to us. You know, I think people who choose elementary education must love to read aloud to others; at least, Pauley does. The difference between here and a classroom is I don't have a desk to lay my head down on, but with Ben scooched up close to my hip, where I want to lay my head I don't think would be wise. Besides, it might interrupt Pauley's reading and just end up a series of "gasps" and a "here it comes!"

Life with John was all I dreamed of. He was witty, intelligent, spoiled me rotten, cultured, and the consummate lover. I moved in with him two days after we became re-united at the pub downtown and really came together at his house after our visit to the Bluff. It was so fun to come home to each other, share our days, our joys, our disappointments, and at night, lying naked, fucking our worries away! No longer were we two singles, but a couple- comfortable with each other and allowing our pasts to slip away and live in the present and future for each other.

My skills and knowledge of economics, investments, and financial management was soon put to good use in our relationship. John insisted I take over his investments, property and portfolio managements, and general accounting. We were able to parlay his already extensive wealth into a stronger growth pattern, diversifying his investments, and spreading the risk to include less high risk, high returns to more moderate risk, moderate returns, and low risk, low returns. The age of the investor often suggested the levels of risk one might take. However, in my case, I was fairly risk adverse, so we kept about sixty percent of his stock and bond portfolio in low risk investments. The property portfolio appreciated in value each time we found a piece of property we thought offered opportunity for growth in value or income production as a rent annuity and as property valuations and prices increased and purchased it.

As I was sorting through his property portfolio, I came across the deed and description for Island View Resort and Lodge in northern Wisconsin, near Fox Creek, his parents purchased many years before, while John was still very young, for a summer place. The parcel holding the resort was part of a larger forested tract purchase made for lumbering revenue. At the time of the purchase, demand for pulp wood and saw logs were in high demand. They didn't log the three hundred and sixty acre parcel surrounding the resort.

John admitted he hadn't been there for over a year, although he did have a caretaker who lived in one of the cottages and maintained the entire facility for him. John really enjoyed the place, but for some reason, this past year he'd neglected to go up. "The house is quite nice," he explained, "my folks put a great deal of money in it. It has three bedrooms, a full screened-in porch, and all the necessary appliances and equipment needed. I have updated and modernized the place as time went along, so everything is relatively new, although I can't attest to what shape it is in at the moment." "

"The lake, oh you'd love the lake, Julian," he sighed, "it's crystal clear, dotted with islands that make perfect hideaways for little love fests, and quite large; over five thousand acres I think. The beach front alone, at Island View, is over five hundred feet of almost white sand and gently slopes to the water's edge. It's a perfect place to swim and relax."

I made up my mind, the next summer would be our summer to go to the lake and reclaim Island View as our summer home! As luck would have it, toward the end of winter, the custodian notified us he was retiring to warmer climes and was leaving for his daughter's home in Florida.

Our first winter together was the real beginning of my happiness. Coming home to John, cuddling up with him on the couch in the evening as he read to me either from a selection from his extensive personal library, a particular selection of literature or prose he's secured from the university library, or from his personal memoirs, shivered a warmth and soul-satisfying emotions rocketing through my body and settling in my heart. Nights, naked together, his larger frame covering my smaller, thinner body after enjoying each other's pleasures, his soft, sleeping breath wisping delicately in my ears, his softening, thick penis still lodged deeply inside me, while being held securely to his chest, was more than I'd ever dreamed of.

It wasn't all that simple, however. We still had to work, teaching our respective class loads, grading papers and tests, paying our bills, and attending faculty meetings and functions. Staff, except those who were right of center or believed their religion frowned on unions such as ours, accepted or at least tolerated us as a couple.

Christmas was in our own house, with our own tree, decorated in baubles and lights, presents for both John and me festooned underneath, was perfected by the large number of presents I'd purchased to give to those children from the local schools the counselors identified as those in need of a little something at Christmas. I also visited the Salvation Army, one of my favorite charities since they did much for me, and we donated fifty turkeys for families. John didn't object; we could well afford it, there were many who couldn't. I knew- been there, done that! On Christmas Day we did much the same as we did on Thanksgiving; trotted down to the Salvation Army building and helped served lunch to those who arrived. It made the holidays much more meaningful for me and John admitted it did the same for him. He never objected when I gave to those in need. Over the years, I also made it a point to give away a new girls and boys bicycle to each elementary school and junior high (private and public) each spring. Again, the counselors would recommend what boy and girl couldn't afford one and then the names were drawn to see who received the bikes.

In the spring, as the Spring Term began winding down, I grew more excited and enthusiastic concerning our trip north and summer at the lake. John continued to caution me not to expect too much since we no longer had a caretaker in residence and he didn't know what shape the place was in. Evidently, the caretaker hadn't been the most meticulous or prompt in doing repairs or general maintenance. I cogitated on the problem before us before presenting my idea to John.

"Couldn't we just hire two or three college boys for the summer to take care of the place, fix up what needs to be repaired, and help us get it ready for habitation? Certainly there are young men on campus who need a job, are handy, and willing to work. We could pay them by the week or month, provide a place to live and food, and time off, if needed. If it were me, I'd jump at such a chance!"

He thought it was a great idea and put an ad in the La Crosse Tribune and the university newspaper. We had over sixty young men respond to our solicitation for summer help. Winnowing them down to the most qualified or desirable was a difficult process. All were very well qualified and seemed eager to work. The young men we'd finally choose had to have certain other qualifications as well as excellent academic records, a strong work ethic, some skills in carpentry or general repair work, and limited financial resources. We had to be certain they wouldn't feel uncomfortable or antagonistic around two homosexual lovers who'd also be their bosses. John and I agreed whatever happened at the lake would have to stay there so the lads we hired would have to be able to maintain confidences.

We finally decided on four, two freshmen (Bruce and Ronnie), one sophomore (Ryan), and one graduating from high school entering the University in the fall (Chad). Chad was my choice; a local lad who, if everything was correct on his application and recommendations he submitted, didn't have pot to piss in or window to throw it out of but was a happy, self-confident young man. His parents were hard workers but didn't have high school educations and wanted something better for their children

John and I both quizzed them on how they felt about homosexuals (queers in those days) and if they had any problems with it. If so, we asked them if they wanted to withdraw their applications. Fortunately, all four had absolutely no problem with our sexual orientation, in fact, if I read the cards right, they batted on the same team John and I did!

The day after Spring Term ended, our grades turned in to the offices, the four lads appeared at our door, packed bags in hand, ready to leave. None of them had a vehicle and either their parents or friends dropped them off. After the appropriate goodbyes to friends and families, we loaded their gear and ours, along with an ice chest, canned foods, and other items in the back of my pickup truck; packed the trunk of John's sedan with clothes, dry food products, plus some books and other essentials, settled the four lads in the car with Ryan behind the wheel, and with instructions to "follow us," took off for the northern forests and Fox Creek.

We stopped for lunch and gas and it was mid-afternoon when we arrived at Island View. The front gate near the county blacktop was open, but lay skewed on its hinges and was in definite need of repair or removal. John twisted it to the side so it wouldn't hinder our access down the lane toward the house and cottages. The sight of the gate in such disrepair gave forebodings of what might lie ahead. Island View, as John explained, was located on nine sections of land with five hundred feet of lake frontage. The lake teamed with fish and nurtured other wildlife such as ducks, shorebirds, and the forest critters who sought sustenance from it. He cautioned me there were bears in the woods so we had to be tidy and keep a clean camp, so to speak.

First impressions often speak volumes so, as we approached the house, noting it was in need of some repair and paint, along with the cottages, and the grounds needed to be mowed, trash hauled away, and general housekeeping all around, John expected me to be crestfallen such as he was, but I wasn't. Even with all of the work it needed, I fell in love with the place and leaned over to him, saying, "It won't take us long to get the place shipshape," and with a smile on my face climbed out of the truck when we stopped in front of the house, and waved the lads forward.

The four of them unloaded from the car, looked around skeptically, then at each other, and surprisingly, it was Chad, the youngest who took the lead.

"Dr. Andrews, while you get the place unlocked and opened up, the four of us will take a quick look around to see what has to be done before night so we have a place to sleep. Anybody got a pencil and pad of paper?"

All four of them began unloading the car and truck and placing everything on the porch. All of that could be put away later. John tossed Chad a ring of keys and they then began a quick inspection of the grounds, the beach, the boat house, the cottages, the garage, and the storage shed. John unlocked the house and we stepped in. He flicked on a light switch and a light came on.

"At least the electricity wasn't shut off," he muttered.

A quick look around convinced me things weren't so bad that a good dusting and cleaning would remedy. I turned on a water tap to see if there was any water – there wasn't! Bruce said confidently from behind me, "I'll bet the pump is either shut off at the main distribution box or in the well house, at least that's what I'd check on back home." I'd have to be more alert while here; I never heard the boys enter the house. I didn't take them long to do a quick check of the property.

"I'll help," offered Ronnie, "bet the main is in the basement, if there is one. If the power is on there, then the problem is at the well house."

"It's out to the east of the house," volunteered John, overhearing the conversation.

Once they started on that project, Ryan and Chad hustled in the door, with Chad telling Ryan to check on cleaning supplies since the cottages and "by the looks of the house" need a thorough going over, adding, "I hope to hell there aren't any rats around. I hate a fucking rat! Had them all over the place in the spring when the river flooded at home."

Great, I thought hearing his comments; all I need is some carnivorous long-tailed rodent nibbling on my pieces parts while I slept. In order to take my mind and the ache in my balls over the thought of losing them to a critter, I decided to inventory the kitchen utensils, dishware, flatware, and other items, while John took stock of the bedrooms and our linen and towel situation. According to him, all, except beds, mattresses and other furniture should be in storage closets in sealed boxes. The furniture in the house was all covered with large white drop cloths or sheets and needed to be removed and shaken out. I looked carefully through the cupboards but could find no evidence of the presence of mice or rats.

In a little over two hours, we had the furniture uncovered, the water was functioning again and running clear, and Ronnie and Bruce had made a quick inspection of the septic tank and pronounced it good.

"It better be," John said confidently, "I just had the whole system replaced about five years ago."

Ryan finished a second inspection of the cottages and declared they needed more than just a "cleaning" before becoming habitable; especially the caretakers' abode. Apparently, he wasn't the tidiest chap on the planet. Chad had cleaning supplies out and the kitchen floor scrubbed and the bathroom cleaned and ready for use. The gas hot water heater worked fine, once the water was turned on and Ryan relit it.

While I fixed supper I also had a load of linens in the washing machine and another in the dryer. Chad brought the linens out to be washed since they did smell a bit musty. The blankets were fine; they'd been packed away with cedar blocks in the boxes to ward off insects. Thank God they hadn't been mothballed; moth balls stink, I think! John was fearful, with all of the work which lay ahead for the boys, they'd want to go home, but they didn't. In fact, they were more enthusiastic than we were. Such is the exuberance of youth!

When bedtime rolled around, John and I took the master bedroom while the boys rolled out sleeping bags on the living room floor. The next morning, after breakfast, our work began in earnest. All six of us tackled the main house first, cleaning, scrubbing, hauling trash from the basement, and elsewhere, noting the little repairs that needed to be made, and doing them, unless something had to be purchased to complete it. Chad, as young as he was, appeared to be a jack-of-all-trades and pretty handy at repairs. He also assumed the leadership role of the troops.

At lunch, I jibed him about it and he just grinned shyly. "I'm the youngest of six boys and we had very little at home. Dad's a river man; fishes commercially for a living; traps muskrats and other furbearers in the fall and winter, and works odd jobs."

His family lived in a small plot of high ground on the banks of the Mississippi River south of La Crosse so Chad grew up hunting and fishing the big river. What they couldn't grow, shoot, catch, build, or buy with their limited funds, they did without! His other older siblings were all moved out, either married or working somewhere and helped his folks as best they could. Chad was the brightest, so when he decided he wanted to go to college, no one objected, and offered to help the best they could.

"This job was a god-send," he said, "What I earn, along with scholarships and work-study, means I'll be just fine this coming school year."

Ryan was the third child of a divorced mother and he couldn't remember his father. No child support money was forth-coming and his mom waited tables to support them. His two older brothers went in the service and sent money home, but the service wasn't for him, he declared, so he'd been struggling, financially, through college.

Bruce and Ronnie were both rural lads; of the two, only Bruce lived on a small farm where his folks tried to eke out a living, while Ronnie's folks rented a house in the country. His dad worked as the school custodian in the small district where they lived. The pay wasn't that great, but they survived.

All four of the boys seemed determined to get a college degree and were all awarded academic and financial need scholarships. By the end of the day, we were all dirty, tired, and ready for a break. I had beer cooling in the fridge and really didn't give a good rat's ass who cared, so when we finally stopped, before supper, I brought out the beer for everyone!

We sat, slowly sipping the cold brew, when suddenly John stood up and announced, "I'm heading to the lake to rinse off before supper. Anybody care to join me?"

Peeling off his shorts and dropping his boxers, revealing his yet flaccid, amply-endowed penis drooping over his large, sagging balls, and while the boys gawked at such a sight, I quickly followed suit and stripped naked as well. Chad took the lead, stripped his clothes off, bringing to light an uncut, smaller cock quickly growing to a nicely shaped and size of about five inches of hardness pointing straight up, and was joined by the other boys, now naked, with average-sized cocks pointing in all directions.

He reached over, encased John's fat and rapidly expanding protuberance in his smaller hand, fondled it and said, "Nice cock, Doc!" and jacked it a couple of times, adding, "much nicer now though," as he gave it a couple of squeezes and tugs, bringing its full eight plus inches of delightful man-meat to full strength.

That one action, encasing that masterpiece of delight in his warm hand, pretty well set the menu for our summer buffet. The head chef, with that stiff spatula of his pointing straight out in front of him, striding confidently toward the lake, his rock-hard appendage wobbling back and forth like a baseball bat ready for the pitch, and his sperm-producers bouncing and jiggling like two oranges in a cloth bag, was followed by the main entrée and delicious desserts, all hot, primed, and willing to be served and dined upon!

To be continued:

***

Thank you for reading Julian Corsair– Chapter Twenty-three–"And the night shall be filled with music and the cares that infect days shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, and as silently steal away."- (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

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