Date: Sat, 30 Dec 2006 12:46:13 -0800 (PST) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Natures Fury! 02 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. % "Nature's Fury!" 02 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Early this morning, Berk was out mending Bernice Bridges' hole in the roof, the same one Steve Clark fell through, clutching a tree, being hurled right into Chad and Matty's love-nest. To do anything for Bernice Bridges, one came away with more than they bargined for, in a nice way. Breaks every hour, free mid-morning breakfast, lunch and a dinner invitation, plus a salary for a day's work, would woo any worker. However, from the expert job done on the Clark-Barr family's barn, was enough of a composite sketch of a fine job offering. As a temporary measure, it would be housing Alonzo, Callan and the ten year olds, Diego and Seth. "All the comforts of home!" Diego said, lying back in the lounge chair. Inside the newly renovated barn, midway between the Clark-Barr and Romano-O'Meara households, the Squirts took refuge, along with a coupla teen chaperones. Poolside, eleven year old Philip lay out, his twelve year old brother next to him. "You guys are soooo, soooo lucky." "Ain't we?" Seth, on Aidan's far side commented. Aidan corrected him, "Not `ain't'... Aren't we." "That's what I meant to say!" Laughing his ass off, not to mock, but enjoy something sounding hilarious, spread the laughter like wildfire. It set Seth off, running and jumping into the heated pool. When Aidan caught up, he asked, "You're not mad at me, are you?" "Nope," Seth came out with, adding, "I got used to people making fun of me." It then occured to poor Aidan, exactly what he did. But Seth wasn't taking it that way, rather the other way, not to the heart. "Forget about it," Seth later said. Hopping out of the pool, he clamored, "Race ya!" Off and running, the nine and twelve year olds swam like crazy. Seth figured it a fair race, Aidan's leg still bugging him. "Wait! I can't go no more." Only problem this time, Aidan couldn't find the bottom of the pool. "Help! I'm drowning!" Hardly, but enough of a plea for help, it set off Denis and Mark, their lifeguards, jumping in. "I'm okay now!" "You weren't drowning!" Denis accused his brother. Eighteen year old Mark Barr, said, "It's bad to call for help when you don't need it." "But my leg `did' hurt and I couldn't touch bottom," the twelve year old pleaded. "Okay. That's a different story." "I wasn't drowning," he explained, "but I could have been." Seth reckoned, "Yeah, you guys should be grapeful." "Grapeful?" Denis asks. "How do you see it that way?" Mark questions. "Well, if he was drowning, you would have to kiss him and wake him up." The older boys laughed their asses off. "You mean CPR," Denis states. "See what?" "PR. The letters. C-P and R." Right now, Denis didn't know what it meant, but knew what it meant to do. "It's not kissing," Mark sets them straight. "A guy puts his mouth over the other guy's mouth and breathes in and out." Then, as a pun, seeing if the two would actually do it, they leave, Denis saying over his shoulder, "You two should practice it, so you know how to do it." Mark adds to the prank, "For the next time somebody's drowning." Going back to their I-pods, the two teens kept a sharp look out of the corners of their eyes. % "So, Steve you took a ride on a different stalk, eh?" The two laughed at Barry's insinuation. "Wish it was yours!" "Mine? Yeah, I can't wait til they give me the go ahead. Here, there's nothing wrong with me and Aidan gets to go home with a bum leg," Barry complains. "Yeah. Go figure," Steve chocks it up to. "If Steve would get his arse outta the bed maybe you could get up and get the hell outta here!" Doctor Maria Scalia was back to being herself, now the sun was out. "Don't you ever give it a rest?" Barry asks, concerned. "What's it going on? Forty-eight hour shift?" Steve questions her non-stop performance. "I go by the rising and setting of the sun. It's been one moon." "Hmm," Steve says. "So, you say when I get up," he had been lying in the small amount of room next to his lover, "'he' can be discharged?" "You got it. So, it's you holding him here. Not me, by golly. So, don't go putting the blame on anybody but yourselves!" How did Steve come out being the bad guy? Hopping off the bed, he stripped the cover down. "Whatsamatter? Couldn't hold it?" "Wet dream," Barry drew reference to. "Yeah sure. I guess I should take it as `how much you really missed me'." Swinging his feet over the side, Barry steps on the floor, first time in many hours. "Ooooh you don't know how good it feels." "Sure it did, but I can make it feel better!" "I didn't mean masturbation, idiot!" "Still, I...." "I know you could. It's the first thing I'm looking forward to." "What about seeing the kids." "Let me rephrase that. It's the first thing I'm looking forward...." "I know what you mean. Me too! Tonight in our little bed with my Beary!" "Quit it before ya make me cry!" They teased each other right through getting Barry dressed and into the wheelchair, even though he could walk it on out of the hospital. "You were a good patient, Mr. Barr." "Thanks, Hans, but don't expect any return visits." "No?" "Not unless I'm wearing a visitor's badge!" In the car, millions of subjects could have filled the talk home, but one in particular surfaced. "At least he was friendly to you." "Who?" "Hans Wenzl, the bitch!" "Why do you say that? He was always friendly and cheerful to me." "Did he know you are a top?" "Top?" Barry roared til it hurt. "Sorry, Steve, but it just struck me as funny. Go ahead." "Never mind." "Ohhh, I hurt your feelings, did I?" "A little. Forget it." "Oh no you don't. Nope! I'm gonna make it up to you tonight." A silence took up some space in the alternate SUV. "How?" Barry chuckled. "Oh, maybe I'll get out the belt and punish your ass for being so sassy to me!" Steve broke out in a toothy grin, as he drove down the avenue. % "Keep watching, Mark. Now." "Shit! They just kissed," Mark reported back to Denis. He didn't need the birds-eye report, seeing the action himself. "Keep watching." "Oh man, Den, will you look at Philip's and Diego's looks?" As Denis and Mark settled back with their blasting I-pods and strumming their air guitars, a different sort of mayhem takes place across the room. "I `saw' you kissed him." "We weren't kissing." Standing over Aidan's chair, Philip is piping hot. "I saw you put your lips on Aidan and kiss him!" "He was not. He was doing what Denis told us to do." "Do you do everything your brother tells you to do?" Seth looks to Diego, asking, "Do I do everything ya tell me?" Diego looks back, shrugging shoulders. "All I can say, no wonder so many people drown, if they're getting kissed!" After pouring his heart out, Philip lays back down. Stretched out in four chairs, the barechested youths are silent. "Hey, Philip, maybe we should try it?" "Kissing?" Seeing Diego and Philip back in conversation, Seth and Aidan carry on, but without `touching'. "If it saves lives." Next thing out of Denis' mouth, pulling the earjack out of Mark's ear, "Watch!" "What?" "Calm down doofus!" "I thought somebody was drowning. "The squirts, stoopid." Sure enough, Mark and Denis see Philip and Diego lean in, the ten and eleven year olds kissing. "Aha!" Aidan says. Standing over the two, arms folded across his bare, foot and a half wide chest, under his perky nips, he boasts out nearly the same infraction. "Caught you two kissing!" Seth spells it out. "We're practicing seepie-are," Diego calls out. % Most people around West Richlan stayed in bed Sunday morning, plum tuckered out from the clean up, or to finish repairs, some still working on cleaning mud out of homes. But not Justin Beanhacker's choir. Every one of them showed up. Antonio has been a regular fixture at Justin's place since choir practice, except returning to his apartment, the third floor of an old house in town. "I don't know why you're paying rent," Justin kidded, on the way to church. Was it a joke or slinging an idea at his lover? "Um, where else would I put my feet up?" the twenty-one year old reckoned. Revealing something new to bother, Justin says, "Y'know, there's a third bedroom?" "Third? Now isn't that interesting?" Christian says, in a mishchevious voice. "How so?" "Well, the reason I stayed in your bed, the first night is become you said... your exact words were, `no place else to crash'!" "No. That's not how it went." "Oh? Then refresh my memory again, please?" Antonio got a kick out of watching the two quibble so innocently. "You were so drunk outta your gourd, you didn't care where you slept. So there!" In retort to Justin's recollection, Christian adds, "I wasn't the only one drunk `out of my gourd'." "How did all this come about?" Antonio asked. For the next few minutes, the time it took to take two detours, roundabout ways to church, Justin and Christian hackled their way through the explanation, both winding up in Justin's room at home. Christmas Eve morning service went off like rehearsal, everyone giving the two anthems all they could muster up, even though some showed signs of being weary. On the way home, Christian confessed, "Hee hee.... I couldn't get the tune, so I mouthed some of the words!" "That's okay," Antonio said. "I was singing loud enough for both of us." "Aren't you a doll?" All Justin could do is smile, when Christian gave Antonio a peck on the check as he leaned in between the seats. "Thanks," Christian added to his comment. "No problem. Keep mouthing the words. The kiss was nice." "Never mind you two!" Justin scolded them. "I'll let you get even, later!" Antonio kidded. "Remember," Christian says, "Uncle Seb said to pick up some milk?" "Oh right," Justin, his mind elsewhere, takes the hint. Making the sound of squeeling wheels, Justin takes a sharp right. It sends Antonio casting to the left. "Heeey... no fair!" "How so?" "I don't have anybody to crash against." Christian, smartly says, "I'll let you get even later!" Nearing Barr's & Bridges, yet another detour faced them. "Cut over to Birdy's," Christian suggests. "Sure. Michael should have a half gallon on hand to `borrow'," Justin seconds. "Hey, do you think your boss needs an extra hand?" Joking, Christian says, "Hmm!" "I meant a helping hand, like in a job." "Ask." With the single word proposition, Antonio steps out of the Beetle. "Is he easy going?" The quest for knowledge opened a can of worms, Justin and Christian laying out all they knew about Michael and then some speculation. "Oh yeah, he's definitely hooked on Kevin Spangler." "How old is Kevin?" Antonio inquires. Christian takes the answers as Justin runs ahead, leading the trio. "Kevin's like, twenty-six. Michael's something like five or six years older." "Like you and me, huh Chris?" Wanting Justin inclusive, Christian states, "You two and me. I mean, I'm twenty-seven and you're what? Twenty?" "Twenty-one, to be exact," Antonio lays out. "I think Justin is twenty." "Right. `The baby'," Christian infers. Antonio spews forth an innocent hint, "Y'know, you two guys are fun to be around." "Likewise," Christian said. Later he would run the comment by Justin, since it tended to irk him, stay on his mind. % With Matty's old bedroom fixed up, as good as new, Berk `tested the roof', by lying in the bed. He figured if it didn't give way, it was sturdy. He slept for a good hour before he heard the hog-caller. "Oooooooh-Berrrrrrrrrrrrrrk! Somebody here to see ya, darlin'!" Max was halfway up the stairs, right in front of the door, for Berk to open it. Standing there in only his workpants and socks, Berk was greeted with a sweet kiss. "I hear from reliable sources, you were a busy guy today?" Keeping Berk from answering right away, Max sealed his lips, running his hands up and down his bare back. "Mmmmmm that feels so, so good!" "Great. After church maybe we can make it an official rub...." Not finishing his sentence, the twenty-one year old looked over Berk's shoulder, obviously eyeing up the completed job. "You did a nice job!" He added, sarcastically, "Except for the computer." "Totaled, I'm afraid." "Prolly Matty erased his cookies, anyway!" "Cookies?" "Um, do you know much about computers, Berk?" Max had an idea, from his answer, he would be spending some time giving computerized instructions. "Hey, you know, this is a nice big room." He bounced his whole body on the bed, which was a mistake. The box springs gave way, plunging the bed onto the floor. Bernice came barreling up the stairs, in concern, yelling, "What the hell's happened up here?" "Nothing too serious," Berk relayed to her. They together giggled, watching Max being a `character'. Crawling off the bed, he mad it seem like the whole thing fell into a big hole. "I think," Berk assessed the situation, "it was the tree." "Matty will be heart-broken. He spent his whole life in that bed!" Bernice then scrolled back in her mind, pouring out instances, placing Matty in this very room. "When he fell off the chair, reaching the shelf. You notice the little scar over his right eye?" Both reported they hadn't noticed. "Airplane up there," She pointed to the small wooden one on the top shelf. "At least the tree didn't take his models." Handling the plane with her fingertips, she says, "Yep. This one put the little scar over his right eye!" Feeling Bernice on the verge of plunging into a teary escapade, Max decides to surprise everyone. "Y'know, Bernice, this would make a fine home to a couple of borders?" "Borders? You mean like in rental?" Leave it to Bernice to make the choice word, being in real estate since her early years. "Sure. All we need to do is replace this bed," he referred to Matty's broken one, "with ours!" "Ours?" Berk asks. "Yours?" Bernice follows. "Sure. It's a whole lot bigger than at Steve and Barry's place. What do you think, Berk?" Max would not want to leave the decision entirely on his own. But for now it seemed practical. "If your partner here is willing, I'm up for it," Bernice went along. "Maybe I spoke too soon," Max says, seeing Berk still in the indecisive state. "No. I mean yes. It is good," Berk finally got it out. "How much?" Bernice, knowing her purchase and rentals forwards and backwards, comes up with, "How does a hundred a month sound?" "A hundred?" both answer. Thinking they think it's too much, she throws in, "with meals?" Max knows he can't offer to cook any, being Alberto is the handyman in the kitchen, but suggests an alternative. "How about I cook meals on Sunday's?" That day a great deal was struck up, Bernice later offering Alberto a computer-generated gift certificate; `Free day off from cooking, every Sunday for a year!' She figured it would take them a year before their rental was due for review. Of course, what Max didn't realize a few things. "What about cooking Sundays at home? I mean for Steve and Barry?" "Oops!" Max and Berk then brainstormed, coming up with an alternating schedule of homes, gathering up Alberto and Bernice with the Clark-Barr households. Their moving out would suit Barry, as he complained about them needing a workshop space. Since the old barn had been converted into a swimming pool/spa, there was no place to house tools. % "Home `sweet' home!" Barry choked a little, but none the less had been glad to be at home. First two people he greeted were Tom and Eric, followed by the Squirts, returning from the backyard spa. "Daaaaaaaad!" Philip greeted him with open arms. The eleven year old literally hugged the handicapped chair, moving it back and forth. "Easy now, son." "I didn't hurt you, did I?" "It would take a lot more than a hug, I assure you," his dad answered. Next in line was Aidan. Right away, Barry recalled the late afternoon wreck with the van. "I'm so sorry, son." Aidan perked up. Instead of thinking about the accident, he caught onto his step-dad calling him `son'. The namesake set him in motion, propelling him over, hugging him much like Philip's hug. "It wasn't your fault, dad. Look," he backed off, "I don't even limp anymore." He did his best to hide the slight misstep, but it showed nonetheless. "Doctor Scal-ya," Philip adds, "says it's only temp-prer-rerry." Last to greet Barry are the eighteen year olds, Denis and Mark. A handshake does it for both, I-pods still hung around their necks, slapping their bare chests. "Thanks guys, but next time wear shirts when coming back from the spa?" The gang laughed when Denis used dad-Barry's warning as officially welcoming him home! Steve reminded them he was still boss, saying, "Time to get ready for church?" % Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.