The Incredible Journey of Thomas Johnson


Copyright© 2017 – Nicholas Hall


Chapter Thirty-One


"I take my journey back to seek my kindred, old faunts dried up where rivers run afar through you and me."

(Edwin Muir)


Dawn was just breaking when I thought I heard someone call out, not loud, but just with enough volume to rouse me. It woke Benjie, Henri, and David as well, all three sitting bolt upright in bed.

"Poppa!" Benjie cried and hopped from the bed, racing toward Chapman's bedroom, with the three of us quickly following. There was enough light in the room for me to clearly see Chapman was in distress, yet he seemed relaxed, even though his breathing was shallow and his face had taken on a deathly pallor. I told David to quickly wake Momma Doucet and bring her to Mr. Chapman's room.

Chapman opened his eyes, smiled, and beckoned Benjie and Henri closer.

"My dear sweet sons," he said softly to the two young adults standing beside his bed as he reached for their hands, "I'm so proud of you! In a short while this will all be yours. Listen to Mr. Jeansonne; he knows more than he says, and to James and all will be well."

He sighed saying, "Kiss me goodbye!"

Benjie and Henri leaned over, still holding his hands, and gently kissed their father; with that he slowly, easily slipped away from this life onto the next. His sons decided on a private service with only family and members of our little community. Reverend Miller, now retired but living in Chapman Corners, performed the service rather than sending for a preacher from another town or a circuit rider. The service was held on the front lawn of our home, where we'd celebrated many Fourth of July's and other holidays. We were all surprised, save one, when Colin produced a beautiful wooden casket from somewhere in his shop. He explained Chapman had him construct it a couple of years before in anticipation of its future use.

As final as death can be, life for the living must go on. Benjie and Henri had been taking a more active role in the management of Chapman Enterprises since their graduation from the university, with Benjie handling accounting, and finance along with planning, and Henri in the operations aspect. As letters of condolences began to flood our mails, I became increasingly concerned if there were those who might perceive a weakness in our enterprise because of the loss of Chapman, a dominant figure in it, with the transfer of ownership and power to two younger family members!

I called together a meeting of whom I called the "inner circle" four days after the funeral. This group included the Doucet's, the Chapman's, myself, James, and Colin. I outlined my concerns and asked everyone to be alert and vigilant for anything which might be seen as unusual or threatening, especially vandalism to our property, physical or property threats, theft, or even low level violence. I especially asked all to be well armed and if needed, we would supply additional armament.

In addition to Jefferson and Antoine, who were already county deputies, although the current sheriff didn't really like having two black men on his staff but knew better than try to dismiss them, we added our own security patrol. They worked at night, patrolling on horseback the lands we owned near the home place and extended their reach to our immediate neighbors.

The first threat of action against Benjie and Henri came, not from masked riders or other acts of physical intimidation, but from a bank, in the personage of a well-dressed man in a carriage. The man, a junior clerk in one of the banks Chapman did business with, approached the house and me, standing on the front porch waiting to greet him.

"I'd like to talk to Mr. Benjamin Chapmen and Mr. Henri Doucet," he said, quite authoritatively.

"May I ask who is making this request?"

"Lloyd Thomas, from First Bank," he replied.

I nodded and led him to Benjie's office (Chapman's office) where Henri and he were in conference. We entered and I introduced him, offered him a seat, and sat down myself.

He looked at me, pulled his head back, and said, "This is a private conversation between me and Mr. Chapman and Mr. Doucet and doesn't concern you."

Not the right thing to say!

"Mr. Jeansonne," Benjie remarked quietly but strongly, "has the same relationship with us as he had with our father, so anything you say to us will be said to him!"

"I don't think you understand," he replied seemingly miffed his authority would be questioned, "I was instructed to deliver this message only to the two of you and not the hired help."

Benjie smiled, reached into his pocket, extracted the switchblade knife I'd given him years before, flipped it open revealing the sharp blade, and began trimming at a finger nail. His eyes never leaving the finger he apparently was so interested in, said menacingly, "I don't think you understand; you will deliver the message that fucking ball-less, chicken-shit boss of yours sent to all three of us, or you will leave either totally intact or as a capon- I don't really give a dusty fuck which way! Your choice!"

The clerk swallowed hard, looked at the knife, coughed, and sputtered, "Mr. Smith is highly concerned about the two notes you have with our bank and would like to discuss how and when you're going to pay them off."

"Is that all?"


"Congratulations," Benjie said with a smile, looking up, "you get to leave with your balls still attached below your cock. Now get the hell off of our property!"

The clerk scrambled to the door and just as he exited, he shouted, "It won't be yours long, you little prick!" and raced to his buggy!

"T.J." Benjie instructed, "send a telegram to Jubal, let him know what happened, and that we will meet with him in Keokuk as soon as we can get our shit together!"

Turning to Henri, "Find out how many notes of our neighbors that fucker holds," and back to me, added, "if I calculated correctly, we have substantial funds in that bank; enough to pay off our notes and plenty to spare, but we're not going to use our deposits to do that, okay?"

Benjie was one sharp man and it didn't take me very long to see where he was going with this and it didn't take Henri long either. This was going to be an interesting meeting with the bank!

Benjie, Henri, James, and I met with Jubal two days later in his office in Keokuk before heading toward the bank. Jubal knew what type of promissory note I wanted drawn up (a land contract) for the owners of the property we visited with before coming to town. When we entered the bank, a secretary seated us in the lobby and said she would inform Mr. Smith we were here. When she returned, she indicated only Benjie and Henri would be allowed in the meeting.

I stood, smiled, and said, "I think you misunderstood his instructions, Ma'am," and led the way into Smith's office.

He was flabbergasted and angry at the same time when the four of us entered. Before he could speak, I said simply, "We're here to pay off the two notes we owe.

Benjie took over at this point, adding quickly, "and also to pay these six in full the bank holds," and submitted the list of names to him.

Smith looked at the list, raised his eyebrows, and stated, "This is highly irregular!"

"It may be to you," Benjie smiled, "but our attorney informs us it is very legal and we have the signed documents from the mortgagees giving us the authority to do it and assume their notes with the accompanying debts, but first, let me pay off the two notes we owe," and motioned James forward with the canvas bag he carried.

"Would you be paying this with your deposits?" Smith asked, "They're more than adequate to do so."

"I think not," Benjie replied thoughtfully, "we'll pay in cash," and counted out two stacks of greenbacks in the amount of the two notes. "If you'll have one of your cashiers count this and if correct, I'll take the two paid notes!"

Smith swallowed hard, stepped to the door, and soon two cashiers walked in and began counting. When finished, they indicated the right amount of money was there, and Smith gave Benjie the cancelled notes, marked "Paid in Full."

"Before they leave," Benjie advised, "James will count out, in six separate stacks, the amount owed on each of these other notes, and I will expect to receive cancelled notes in return."

Mr. Smith was getting quite nervous at this point, wondering what Benjie was up to.

The money was declared in the amount of the six notes, the cancelled notes were delivered into Benjie's hands, and we left Smith's office. Benjie walked over to the first teller window he came to and announced in a voice loud enough for the several customers in there, "I wish to close all of our accounts in this bank and will take it in cash only."

He was going to take back all of the cash we'd paid into the bank just a short time before in order to cover our accounts, and some more besides. The teller, after consulting with Smith, did as he was bid, James placed all of the money in the canvas bag, and as we left, Benjie commented, almost off-handedly it might seem to the unaware, "I'm glad to close our accounts; I worry about the stability of this place." Walking out the door, I could hear others in the bank wanting to close their accounts as well, in cash only." Within two weeks, the bank had failed.

"Serves the fuckers right," Benjie declared after we'd enjoyed a very long and pleasantly orgasmic fuck over the desk in my office.

In the midst of our tussle with the bank, other vultures decided to circle the "kill" and take their share as well! We were receiving reports of "masked night riders" terrorizing our black neighbors and tenets with shouting, gunfire, some cattle stealing, and a couple of times, crosses burning in yards, clearly a threat of death should they stick around!

Benjie wondered how we'd discover who these miscreants were and I informed him, the same way his father and I did, scatter some money around and someone will toss them to the wolves for more cash, and someone did!

The riders were a group of men from south of the state line and were in the employment of a couple of larger landowners west of us. Once I found that out, it wasn't too difficult to send a message or two in their direction. James and I located the "boss" of the nightriders, waylaid him one dark night on the way to a gathering of his gang, stripped him naked, and turpentined his balls, cock, and asshole! It burned to beat hell! We rode from our encounter with him, to each of the landowners he was employed by and paid them a little visit as well; well, it really wasn't so little! I tacked a warning on their front doors while James fired their barns, after driving the livestock well away from the conflagration. We had no more trouble in the neighborhood after that!

It was fairly quiet the rest of the summer, until August, when we started noticing a small group, usually between five and eight, of young men, probably in their early twenties hanging around watching our naked youngsters swim at Rock Creek. The second or third time I saw them, I rode up to check them out and get a better look at them. When I approached I saw three or four of them quickly tuck their hard cocks back in their pants, but said nothing to them about it. Instead, I made small talk, got a good look at them, recognized them, one as a district Judges' adult son and another as a mine owner's son, and they recognized me. When I rode away, I casually said, "Keep your cocks in your pants and away from our youngsters if you know what's good for you."

"Who the fuck does he think he is?" one of the five asked as I started to slowly ride away.

"He's that government man who works for Chapman. My old man says his not out of it completely and fucking dangerous," commented Roger, the district judges' son. "He also says the son-of-a-bitch carries a knife as big as Lee's dick."

"Must be a big one then," someone else snickered.

"Yeah," replied another one, "according to my old man, mess with that bastard and you could end up with your throat slit from ear to ear."

"How do you know that?" came a question from one of the five, now some distance from me.

"Something happened in Missouri ten or twelve years ago," came a muffled reply.

I turned to see who made the remark, but their backs were to me so I was unable to ascertain who it was.

I doubled the watch on the youngsters, but we had no further incidents or confrontations. Although there were scattered reports throughout the rest of the fall of three riders in the area, especially when school was opening in the mornings. Jefferson and Antoine made certain the children made it to school alright, although those coming from places other than the main house, were advised to travel in groups or the horse-drawn wagon we started providing where students could gather at someone's house and we'd pick them up and take them to school.

All of the farms, including Chapman's Farms, had an abundant harvest. At year's end, when Benjie, Henri, James, and I tallied up revenues and expenditures, it was evident Benjie and Henri, now managing Chapman Enterprises, experienced a very profitable year. They, as had their father, shared some of those profits with not only the employees and family, but with the share-croppers on their land as well.

The winter was no more severe, or less for that matter, but spring seemed to come early; we were blessed with an uncommon warm March in 1880. I should have cautioned everyone to be more watchful now warm weather was upon us and keep a closer eye on our youngsters, especially P.J. and Menou; but I didn't and I blame myself for what happened!

P.J. and Menou, on a very warm and beautifully sunny March 31, 1880, decided to hitch up the donkey cart and go for a ride, a ride far enough away to some green, grassy spot for him to mount Menou and steer his rampant pony into her sweet, warm, moist stable. An hour or so after they'd departed the home place, someone noticed they were gone and raised the alarm. Jefferson and Antoine headed to the east in order to check to see if they were visiting friends they had a couple of farms over while Henri, Benjie, James, and I headed toward Rock Creek, one of P.J.'s favorite places to fuck outdoors. We found their clothes strewn on the grass near the swimming hole. The donkey, with cart still hitched up, was tethered nearby.

James spotted three sets of horse tracks leading to and away from the spot as well as a place there appeared to be a scuffle, where the dirt was scuffed about. I was reminded of the problem we had several years before in Missouri when Jubal and Rachael were kidnapped and taken for a fuck-fest hosted by "Mr. Sam!" I remembered also, the district judge's name was in the book of accounts I'd taken from Mr. Sam's safe just before I killed him. The judge had a small cabin a few miles upriver from Rock Creek where he "entertained" friends, discreetly of course!

I was almost sick to my stomach; I knew what happened now and what P.J. and Menou were about to experience unless I got there damned quick. I told Benjie, Henri, and James to return to the home place, make themselves very visible, send for Jefferson and Antoine instructing them to go to the county seat to fetch the sheriff, and wait for me to make contact with them.

"Where are you going?" Benjie asked softly and concerned.

"Don't ask any more," I advised, "just wait and trust me."

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the cabin. Evidently the kidnappers, three in number if the number of horses was any indication, arrived shortly before me. Quickly tethering my horse and approaching the door on foot, I heard one of the men shout, "Make sure that little shit is tied down tight with his bare ass hanging over the table. I've been wanting to fuck that tight, little brown ass ever since I saw him fucking the girl last summer!"

I know knew who at least one of the three were and had a good idea who the other two were as well.

"Yeah," someone else said, again I recognized the voice, "I can't wait to fuck her as well!"

I slipped in the door, undetected, and saw a naked P.J. tied stomach down to a table top, his legs spread, arms secured, and ass available; Menou, naked as well, flat on her back, was tied to the bed, her legs and arms secured, legs spread leaving her hairless little girl pussy in plain sight and open for penetrating! The three provocateurs, the judges' son, a mine owner's son, and one other I didn't know, were buck naked, their stiff cocks bouncing up and down in anticipation of what awaited them!

The judges' son was bent over P.J. with his cock at the ready just nudging P.J.'s asshole ready to plunge in, when he said the mine owner's son, "As soon as I stick my cock into him, you fuck me too!" and with that shoved it home.

P.J. let out a howl, "That hurt you ugly, fucking asshole!" but it didn't stop the other from shoving his cock up the poop chute of his fucker and they both began to pump away!

Meanwhile, the third man, big (and I mean big) cock, throbbing and wobbling as he climbed on the bed, positioned himself, touched the front of Menou's slit with it, grinning said, loudly, "I just love to hear them scream when a girl this young and small takes my cock in their cunt!"

I quickly stepped behind him, covered his mouth with one hand, saying softly in his ear, "Then you'll really love this!" and slit his throat!

When his two companions heard the body hit the floor, they stopped in mid-fuck, turned to look at me, eyes wide open in surprise, when I quickly pulled my pistol and shot them both in the head!

I cut P.J. and Menou free of their bonds and after determining they were no worse for wear (let's face it, P.J. had been fucked before so the cock the guy had was not the biggest one he'd ever had up his ass and Menou hadn't been penetrated by the asshole whose throat I slit), I located two blankets, wrapped one around each one, and led them out to the horses, placing them on the horse belonging to the judge's son. They were both mad, damned mad from the rape, and so was I! I just couldn't leave without exacting some further retribution for the dastardly deed. I went back inside to attend to some unfinished business before rejoining them. As we rode away, P.J. looked back, looked at me, and grinned at the sight of three sets of human balls, still in their sacks, tacked to the cabin door!


"So," Tony asked, his soft, warm butt cheeks resting comfortably up against my pubes, my stiff shaft, still twitching and pulsing into him, impaled him tight, securing him for another round if I so desired, "how did all of this lead to you ending up back here, in our time?"

"It was a foregone conclusion the minute I killed the three assholes; the district judge, the mine owner, and the sheriff were all good friends. There was no doubt in my mind the judge had allowed the other two to join him in his miscreant activities at the cabin. I'd be disposed of and if anyone were apprehended for my demise, the individual would be set free post haste. I knew I had to disappear for some time in order for things to quiet down!"

On the journey back to the farm, I swore P.J. and Menou to secrecy, telling them only to say a man with a bandana covering his face set them free and they grabbed the nearest horse and rode home. At home, I had a quick conversation with Benjie, Henri, and James, getting a story straight on why I wasn't to be found. I'm certain James would tell anyone asking I'd been called back to duty of some sort!

Benjie helped me pack my duffle bag, with the geode safely inside, and rode with me to the rock outcropping where he'd first found me. We made love one last time, dug up the metal box holding the jewelry, gem stones, greenbacks, and gold coins I'd liberated from Mr. Sam's safe years before, and after I promised to return to him, if possible, the first of April after the death of the judge, kissed him goodbye, and stepped into the rocks, disappearing from him and ending up in this time!

"When did the judge die?"

"August 12, 1889."

Tony and I spent the rest of the days preparing for our trip back into time. I gathered the necessary medical supplies, packed them into two backpacks, one for him and one for me, collected the jewelry, gemstones, and gold coins I had remaining after redeeming some to live this past ten years, and the greenbacks. The greenbacks would come in handy as quick spending in 1890 and were worth little now, except for collectors.

March 31, 2008 we journeyed to Southeast Iowa, spent the night in connubial bliss, and early on the morning of April 1, 2008 drove to the rock outcropping along Rock Creek. I gave one backpack to Tony, several of the gem stones, and gold coins, strapped the other backpack on, wrapped my arms around him, and we stepped together through the rocks and into the cave. As we entered it, both bending low to gain entrance, I heard the familiar humming sound; the hair on the back of my neck began to stand up as the air, as it had twice before, around me whirled with electrical charges, the wind seemed to gather us in a twisting, tumbling vortex, whooshing into the cave, and my body felt as though it was being ripped asunder, but I held tight to Tony and he to me! Suddenly there was a loud "SNAP" followed by an extremely loud "CLAP" of thunder, and I knew we existed no longer and slipped into a black, cavernous, abyss!

In my half-consciousness, I heard a male voice speaking my name; "Thomas, Thomas!" The voice was somewhat familiar, so I answered with a question, "Where am I?" and before it could be answered, I asked a more important questions, "What happened and what day and year is this?"

The voice, answered in a calm, soothing voice, "You apparently had some sort of seizure! It's April 1, All Fool's Day."

The End


Thank you for reading "The Incredible Journey of Thomas Johnson" – Chapter Thirty-one and the entire story.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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