Date: Sun, 21 May 2006 16:43:58 EDT
From: SANIBELBOYS@aol.com
Subject: North Country Chapter 1

Forward: This story, like many of our other stories, deals with the aspect
of slavery in the world. The main characters are all of legal age and in
some instances the slavery is non-consensual, where other times it is
consensual.  It takes place in current times, in America. This story is
fictional for all intent and purposes and should not be considered as if
the writer is condoning such actions. There are over thirty (30) chapters
to the story and we will post them in a timely manner, hopefully.


This story is Copyright 2006, by TM. All World Wide Rights Reserved.
This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior
written permission.


North Country Chapter One


The contract with the government was coming to its conclusion; which meant
that our company was going to have to 'down size' any day now. After three
years working here as a chemist, I had no earthly clue where I was going to
find another job that would pay me anywhere near to what I was making now.

Thanks, in part, to a relative, I landed this gig right out of college. Now
at twenty seven years old, I had to strike out on my own and find another
job.  But, like a lot of government contracts, I was at least paid a
handsome salary; which to tell the truth seemed at times exorbitant.  I had
already gotten myself a nice car, a great apartment in a nice part of
Georgetown and I was happy.

I sat at my desk, looking out the window at a splendid view of the Potomac
River; thinking about my family and friends. Well, not so much the friends'
part; as I'd never seemed to go out much, and when I did it was only to
eat. I didn't socialize with those at work, probably because they thought I
was a 'geek' in some ways. It isn't my fault that I like math, science and
biology. I didn't even join in with them when at lunch; because all they
wanted to talk about were politics, the ongoing wars around the globe and
who in the office/lab was screwing who.

When I did go out, it seemed like all I did was to select the wrong girl
for the date. I thought, and still do; that taking a girl to dinner and a
movie followed by a nice walk (weather permitting) was a good way to get to
know one another.  But, by the time the movie was over, the girl just
wanted to go to my place a have sex. Don't get me wrong... sex is good...
but, at the right time and place.  I found that resorting to masturbation
seemed to be the best way to practice 'safe sex'; and I could always make
the time for 'safe sex'.

My three brothers, know how I am about such things, and they always kid me
when the family gets together on special occasions or holidays. My younger
brother Ryan is twenty and out of all four boys in the family, he was the
least that I ever would have expected to be born gay. He never made mention
of it when the family was together, but alone with his brothers he felt
comfortable talking about it; and when we could, we'd try and give him
advice when it came to those 'partner' type questions. Well, I didn't have
much advice for him; considering the luck I was having in finding just the
right girl for myself.

I decided right then and there, as I watched several boats race down the
river; that I'd take a long vacation before looking for another
employment. As soon as I got home that night, I called all of my brothers
and asked if any of them would be able to take time from work and join
me. I told them of my plans of driving up to Maine just to get away from
the noise, pollution and traffic of the city. I had always wanted to go
hiking and camping; which in itself is a rather healthy thing to do. Maybe
when I got back, found a new job; my luck in the girl department might just
change for the better. However hard I tried none of my brother's wanted to
go; mainly, I feel, because it was a hiking and camping trip. If I had said
vacation and not used those words they probably would have joined me,
without question.

When the final day of work arrived, some of the employees had a party,
others simply went on their way but I was called into the office and given
a lengthy hand written letter of recommendation, not to mention a fantastic
bonus check; which I was told not to mention to anyone else.

Twenty four hours later, I had my whole itinerary printed out. I even
decided to 'splurge' on the camping gear, by using the money from the bonus
I had just received. I didn't think that spending the bonus money on my
vacation was to terribly wrong on my part. After all, I did have a sizeable
amount of money in my checking and savings accounts. I had to laugh,
because here I was, about to go on a vacation and I was actually going to
spend money without to much worry; which is by no means the normal thing I
would ever think about doing. Ryan always made fun of the fact that I even
used coupons at the grocery store, went to early movies to save two bucks,
and never, ever bought clothes for myself unless they were on sale for
fifty percent off of suggested retail. Now I ask, what's wrong with that!
At least I paid cash for everything I owned.

I spent the next two days cleaning the apartment, doing laundry, ironing
clothes and eating everything in the refrigerator that I would have had to
toss out before leaving. I left the names and numbers of my brothers with
the landlord, in case she needed to get in touch with them in an emergency,
filled my BMW full of fuel and went to sleep early.

When the alarm clock buzzed me awake, I was all ready and excited. I
dressed, grabbed my small duffle bag and took the elevator down to the
lobby. I couldn't wait to get on the road. I told the doorman to have a
great day and I'd see him in thirty days time.

Once I had gotten onto the George Washington Parkway, I felt exhilarated.
I exited the Parkway, after passing the headquarters of the Central
Intelligence Agency, on to the infamous 'beltway', heading east where I was
to pickup Interstate 95 north.  Something, however, came to mind. I had
forgotten to eat breakfast, and I always, always start the day with a good
meal. It's good for your health, ya know.

At 3:30 in the morning you don't find any good places, anywhere, to eat. So,
once I'd driven onto the Interstate, heading north, I looked for signs which
would tell me what places were available to me. Well, as luck would have it;
I  was stuck in a dilemma; a twenty four hour McDonalds or a Waffle House. I
didn't  honestly want to waste time; as I had figured for and planed on being
north of  New York City before their morning commuters clogged the  road.

I suppose by now, you think I'm some weirdo or 'geek'; by the way I always
plan things out and think things through. Well, think what you want, as
others do as well; but, hey, I'm on vacation and you're stuck at home.

So I stop at the McDonalds and ease into the 'drive-thru' lane. I hope this
is the first and last time I ever do this! After three times, the voice on
the other end of this conversation got my order right. Not that it was
difficult, but perhaps the lad had had a tough shift. While I waited in
line for my food, I reached into my bag and pulled out one of my hand
towels; which I was going to use to cover my lap just in case the McGriddle
meal fell apart or something. A word to the wise... don't drink their
coffee...

Never in my life, have I found such a disgusting place as the 'rest stop'
just south of Baltimore. I needed to use the facilities there; but I had to
actually retrieve some cleaning supplies from my car and clean the toilet
seat before I dare sit on it.  I wasn't so worried about the men in there,
most of them being truckers but there were a few 'strange' men there also;
who kept staring at me and one of them even ran his tongue over his bottom
lip.  Not that I'm the nervous type of guy, but please don't think I'm up
for a quickie in a public restroom; and not from a gay guy either; sorry
Ryan. Well, I think he was gay, or maybe he thought I was the gay one; who
knows. But, anyway I was glad to get out of their and back on the road.

Whew, I made it through New York City just as planned.  Since I like to
drive, I had planned on making it all the way to Freeport, Maine before
stopping for the night. Plus, Freeport is where I'd spend my money on
camping gear.  Yep, that's the hometown of L.L. Bean and Company.

Only having to stop once for fuel, I was making good time and decided to
stop, get out and have a relaxing late lunch. There are a number of good
places to eat in Connecticut, just off of Interstate 95. And, not to forget
mentioning here that the restrooms are clean, bright and without the
fanfare of somebody licking his lips.

One more fuel stop and look out Freeport, here I come. Well, the sun went
down as my stomach began to inform me that I needed to eat something. I
sure as hell didn't want to stop before getting to the motel. Yes, I said
'motel', as they are less expensive than a 'hotel'.  Now I was tired. I had
kept to my schedule, but found that it was a bit much for one day of
driving.  It was late and after dropping my duffle bag in the room, I
struck out in search of a place to eat.

These folks in Maine are so great. You are treated like friend or family;
no matter where you go. I had a great seafood dinner, including lobster,
and made my way back to the motel; where I showered and went straight to
the bed.

After another great meal for breakfast, I headed straight for L.L. Bean;
and I won't bore you with all of the details, but that place is
fantastic. I bought everything that I had on my list, plus a few small
extra neat things, and I still had money left over. Don't get me wrong;
even though I'll admit to thinking about saving the extra money, I decided
that I would spend every last dime over the next thirty days.

The countryside was so beautiful and majestic that at times it was breath
taking. I'd never driven on a road that was cut out right next to or
through rock walls. The air just seemed to be so pure and unspoiled, and
the water ways I saw weren't polluted.

Once I was north of Bangor Maine, I knew I was in the 'home stretch' so to
speak. And, since it was the month of May, there weren't any tourist
driving around looking at the trees. I knew, from doing my research, that
May was a nice month, with cool days and even colder nights; but at least
it wasn't yet June when the dreaded 'black fly' season befalls the
residents of this beautiful state. If I had any luck at all; my last week
here would be free and clear of the biting little blood sucking creatures.
Any way, I digress.

I got to Moosehead Lake in plenty of time to enjoy the scenery and take in
some  of the ambiance of the town, and its residents. Gosh, these folks sure
know how  to cook, as I had a fantastic  dinner.

I had made arrangements to leave my car at the lodge where I stayed the one
night. At least my car wasn't the only one in the visitors lot that was
completely covered up by waterproof  canvas.

Morning came and I felt rested and ready to go. I inquired at the front desk
as  to whom I might speak to about hiking and was dutifully informed of the
'Campers  Korner' on the outskirts of town.

I lifted up the new, larger yet lighter, back pack and slung it over onto
my back; making sure the straps were tight. Folks driving down the street
waved me to as if I was their friend and neighbor.  The one thing I had
forgotten all about, and a most important thing, was the fact that I was
wearing new boots. I should have purchased them a month ago and walked
around the block each day until they were comfortable.  No big deal, I
thought; I'd just hike less each day for a few days until they felt more
relaxed.

The 'Campers Korner' place seemed to be open for business, as there were
several  pickup trucks, rusty as they were, parked out front.

The closer I got to the store; I could see that one of the pickup trucks
had someone sitting (?) in the back. Each step I took, the person in the
back became clearer. You'd have thought the poor kid had gotten the tar
beat out of him. His face was a mass of black and blue bumps and there was
a cut above his left eye.  He was wrapped in an old army blanket, so old
that I was positive that it was made from one hundred percent wool.  Even
though it wasn't extremely cool this morning, the guy was shaking and
shivering like he was freezing to death. It wasn't until I stopped to see
if he was alright, that I came to realize that he was bald. I guess the sun
had tanned his scalp enough, so that from a distance you couldn't really
tell.

"You okay?' I asked in a much caring  voice.

"Sir, yes Sir," the boy  replied

"Are you sure? Do you need another blanket or something to keep you warm
enough?  Would you like me to get you something hot to  drink?"

"Sir, no Sir," the boy  replied

Well, I'd done my civic duty and left the boy to sit in his misery. I went
inside the store and was greeted warmly; as everybody up here greets you;
stranger or  not.

I bought a map, which was the first thing on my mind. Then I took some time
to  just peruse around the place; seeing all of the things which they had for
sale.

The owner of the store inquired of me, where I was hiking to; and I just
told him that I hadn't any specific plans but just wanted to go hiking and
camping. I even felt comfortable telling this complete stranger that it was
my first time at hiking and camping.

He began asking if I had this, and that; when I just decided to pull out the
list of things that I'd brought or purchased for my vacation. Thankfully, I'd
 kept the list in my wallet; not knowing if anything I'd bought would be tax
deductible.

"Well unless you're planning to grow a beard, I'd say that you might need a
razor and some soap young man. You going to rub two sticks together for fire,
I  see, cause you ain't got no matches  neither."

I heard what appeared to be several voices giggling and making light of my
ignorance. I looked over in the direction of the voices and discovered that
there were five or six, rather raunchy looking men huddled around an old wood
burning potbelly stove; sipping coffee from metal  cups.

"Don't mind them there fellas," the shop keeper said to me with a grin. "They
 come down from the mountain every morning or so, and get a cup of coffee and
 pick up a few supplies. They don't have much sense, let alone money, as why
some  of us store owners let them work for a few dollars now and  then."

I was deeply appreciative of the store owner spending so much time with me;
as I  felt as if I'd learned something. A person should always learn something
new  every day of his life, or else the day isn't worth much; that's the way I
see it  anyway.

I ended up with the map, matches, shaving cream, razor, several packs of
ready to eat meals, a couple of candles, extra rope, plastic ground cover
to go underneath my sleeping bag and a few more things which might seem
silly to you.  Since I didn't bring many clothes I had to buy a small
package of laundry soap and a package of clothespins.

I'd never washed clothes by hand before, so this in itself was going to be
an adventure. Now I see why he had me get the extra rope; so I could hang
my clothes out to dry.

With all my purchases placed in a bag, I mentioned to the owner that I'd
like two coffees to go. He gave me a weird look, but after mussing the men
out of the way he returned with to Styrofoam's to go.

Once outside, I slid my backpack off; as I needed to find space for all of
my new purchases. It wasn't as easy as I thought I should have been, as I
found myself doing something really stupid; not to mention that all six
pairs of eyes were glaring at me through the store window.

What I should have done first was to set the coffee down, but I wriggled
and twisted; changing the coffee from one hand to the other while I got the
backpack off. I must have looked like an idiot, and I sure as heck know
that I felt like one.

I just stopped doing what I was doing, and approached the teeth chattering
kid in the back of the truck; extending my hand with the hot coffee. I
instantly thought that I'd offended him, as he didn't pull his hand out
from under the blanket. Finally, after a few coaxing words from me, he
brought out his arm and extended his hand, taking a firm grip on the cup;
thanking me for being so kind towards him.  His arm was bruised as much, if
not more than his head and I was beginning to feel sorry for him.

As I packed away my current purchases, I could feel the kid's eyes staring
at me. I kept the map in my hand, as I hefted up the backpack and slid the
straps over my shoulders.

I stepped off the sidewalk, thinking only about the beauty of the day, the
sounds of birds, the soft breeze of fresh air; when all of a sudden I heard
the kid mumble, "don't go over the tracks, don't go over the tracks, cause
you'll never come back."

I thought to myself that he was singing some song that he had learned or
something to that affair; as I walked towards the first path leading up
into the hills and mountains.

I stopped long enough to give my feet a break from the new boots and to
drink my coffee. I pulled open the map, taking a reading as to where I was,
and where I wanted to stop for the day. It was an easy map to read, all be
it a map, and everything seemed plain and clear to understand. I decided
that I'd remain on this path for awhile, changing after lunch and head up
to a town, or what once was a town called Brownsville, on the western side
of the lake.  Surely to see an old logging town, now deserted would make
the first few days an adventure.

I began folding the map, now that I was done assessing the day's hike; when
my eye caught something on the map which peaked my interest.

Right there, on the crease and fold of the map, running next to Brownsville
was a long drawn out section of tracks, railroad tracks.


TO BE CONTINUED...


if you would like to read more of this story and  other stories by the
SanibelBoys go  to
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thanks,
marcus, trey and  billy