Date: Sat, 31 Aug 2013 14:30:59 -0400
From: Jamie Haze <jashaze@cfl.rr.com>
Subject: DOOBY rhymes with Scooby Part 31

DOOBY rhymes
with Scooby

Part 31

By

Jamie Haze



Wednesday morning, Coral Place was buzzing with activity; `Hobby' the sport
fisherman and `Dildo' the dive boat were scheduled to arrive. To make room,
`Fishin' Boy' was to be moved stern to dock, under Auggie's boarding ramp
and left there for the duration of the party so there was room for the two
new boats on that side of the dock. Then Friday, `Donder II', from Diving
Down Under and `Chief', Jim-Bob and Carter's sport fisherman would be
parked on the opposite side of the dock, their usual spaces when visiting
Coral Place.

Ollie was the first boy out of bed that morning, as soon as he heard the
distant screen door bang, which meant that one of the Chefs had arrived to
begin preparing breakfast and he wanted to help. He wanted to do everything
he could to earn his keep. He arrived in the kitchen freshly showered and
wearing his new blue neck kerchief, to find that Flynn was the Chef for the
day at Coral Place.

Auggie heard Ollie extract himself from the tangle of arms and legs that
shared his queen-size inflatable mattress closest to the regular king-size
bed on Auggie's side, so Auggie also heard most of the quiet conversation
between the boys after they were exhausted from their frantic lovemaking
and had finally turned off the lights. Ollie was becoming even more of an
enigma.

######

"Tomorrow, we'll teach you how to dive with scuba, just off the dock to
start with, but while we're under there, we'll hand feed the fish," Little
Zeek promised Ollie.

"I already know how to dive," Ollie assured, "Have you ever explored any
caves? Caves are a rush; you know, 100 feet down and 200 feet into a cave
with only a light line to find your way back out. Cave diving is more fun
than just plain spelunking, although you can go much farther without
worrying about running out of air," he giggled softly.

"What's spelunking?"

"Exploring caves," Ollie answered, "the problem with them is that most of
them have already been explored and mapped. The trick is to ask locals in
mountainous areas where there are caves to find one that they know of that
almost no one's been in, or abandoned mines, now those can be a trip; if
you don't watch where you're going and step off into a mine shaft 100 feet
deep, one of those could spoil your whole day," he giggled softly again. He
switched topics, "Do you guys sky dive? Now that's always a rush." Ollie
also explained the wonders of bungee jumping off bridges, hang gliding off
cliffs, white water rafting or better yet kayaking down the same rivers, or
parasailing behind a boat, something they could do locally.

Auggie cringed inwardly when he heard Trasker tell the others; "Tomorrow
we'll have to find a store that sells parachutes that can be towed behind a
boat. If the ski boat isn't powerful enough, we'll get a bigger one that
is. Since you've done all that stuff already, I suppose you've been out
fishin', like trollin' for big guys out in the Gulf Stream?" he asked
Ollie.

"Nope not yet, not in the Gulf Stream, but I've been down to Baja for
billfish and tuna.  I love to fish off a big ass fisherman like Fishin'
Boy. Maybe you could take me out sometime after I get settled in my new job
at the club. I hope I do well; I've never even had a part-time job before,
not even chores, like you guys although washing dishes is really fun." (He
ignored the groans of protest.) "I may need some pointers on stuff you guys
have done and I haven't," Ollie said before he and Little Zeek started
giggling together, "Not that kind of pointer," he protested, then changed
his mind, "Well okay; one more time."

#######

The boys, with Ollie and Flynn were just finishing breakfast when Auggie
and Zeek arrived at the table. As soon as Ollie saw the men coming, he
jumped to his feet and ran to the kitchen with Flynn following at a more
sedate pace while smiling and shaking his head. Flynn returned at once with
coffee and orange juice and Ollie followed a few minutes later carrying two
plates filled with eggs, fried potatoes, thick-cut bacon and of course,
grits, swimming in fresh creamery butter.

While Flynn resumed his seat, Ollie hovered too close to the men,
considering that he was naked and his height put his youthful package just
a short glance away. "Try the eggs first," he encouraged, "I fried them
myself; Flynn taught me how," he encouraged proudly.

Auggie chewed more than necessary, swallowed with some difficulty and
raised his eyes, "These here eggs is the best I ever had, Ollie boy," he
assured, "Yo' keep up this here kinda cookin' an yo' be puttin' poor Flynn
boy outta work in no time!"  After a venomous stare at Flynn, he looked
down the table and asked if Ollie also made toast.

Ollie smacked his forehead and ran to the kitchen, "Toast, I forgot the
dang toast.  I'll be right back," he shouted over his shoulder.

Auggie and Zeek watched until he was safely out of sight and hearing. Zeek
raised his napkin and tried to wipe away the egg shells that were stuck to
his tongue. He frowned at Auggie after a drink of juice, "Boss man, yo'
should'a asked dat boy to serve them shells in ah different bowl," he said
sourly.

That suggestion got all the boys laughing, particularly Flynn, the one
responsible for Ollie's crunchy eggs, "You ain't exactly pushin' the right
buttons at this end o' the table, Flynn boy," Auggie warned.

"I couldn't help it Auggie, the eggs you ate are the first that Ollie's
ever cracked in his whole life. I don't know what's wrong, not wrong
really, just strange; it's like he's lived in one of those bubbles," Flynn
attempted to explain in a low voice until everyone smelled the distinct
odor of burning bread. "Shit," he giggled as he jumped to his feet, "what
kind of jam do you want on your charcoal?" He had the good sense not to
wait for an answer. Then from the kitchen they heard him laughing; "No
Ollie, this is the toaster, this thing with the slots on the top; you
cannot put bread directly on the gas burner!"

"If yo' yahoos is done laughin' take that boy out an feed the fish, move
Fishin' Boy to my ramp, then stand by for the two new boats y'all
bought. After they get tied up, bring them new boys to the Club so they can
get settled in over there. What so ever yo' do, keep that Ollie boy out
from no trouble," Auggie ordered.

"No can do Unc, except move the boat and feed," Trasker countered, "we need
to get over to the Club pretty quick to receive some stuff we ordered
yesterday, those guys need to be paid off with cash money like we
promised. It seems like the sight of cash worked wonders in gettin' us some
great discounts since it doesn't need to be deposited into business
accounts like checks or credit. Can't Ollie standby to catch the lines?
Then you could bring everyone over to the club. It just might be time for
lunch by then." The last suggestion got Auggie's attention, he did not want
Ollie's innocent fingers in lunch or any food he was likely to eat in the
future, and there was plenty of help in the Club kitchen.

The boys had just left when the house phone buzzed. Flynn answered; it was
one of the security boats calling to say that two boats wanted to get into
the cove. They said they were expected. Auggie nodded and the message was
relayed so Auggie, Zeek and Ollie were out on the dock to greet them and
point out where they should tie up.

Cole was on Dildo's fly bridge and Pete, wearing just a thong, was
scurrying to put out bumpers and ready the dock lines. When Pete saw that
Ollie was naked, grinning and waving, he lost his thong somewhere between
the stern starboard bumper and the bow dock line that he was ready to throw
to Ollie. By the time Ollie cleated the line, properly, everyone noticed,
Pete had scampered to Dildo's stern and jumped to the dock with that line
as Dildo just touched the pilings.

Auggie and Zeek watched the two boys greet each other in typical teenage
fashion before Pete invited Ollie to help tie up Hobby that was idling
further out in the cove, waiting its turn. Surprisingly, Jonathon turned
Hobby's bow straight into the dock and when close enough, the two boys
jumped aboard before it backed away and with one maneuver, slid neatly and
slowly into its allotted space, where, by then, Cole stood on the dock to
catch and cleat Hobby's lines.

After the two boats were safely docked, Jonathon watched the two boys,
particularly Ollie, set the spring lines for both boats before he thought
about shutting down Hobby's engines', climbing down from the fly bridge and
stepping off his boat.  Pete introduced Cole and Jonathon to Ollie as if
the two boys had been bosom buddies all their lives. He left Jonathon and
Ollie standing together, just staring at each other and brazenly took Cole
to meet Auggie and Zeek for the first time.

"I think I just found Hobby a First Mate finally," Pete whispered to Cole
within Auggie and Zeek's hearing, "and maybe a mate," he added using finger
quotes. "Ollie said he's going to be working for the resort too, maybe
cooking, but he isn't sure yet."

Auggie sputtered to life when he heard that; obviously, cooking was the one
job that Ollie wasn't going to have. He promptly drove to where the young
man and boy stood, introduced himself and within a minute had Ollie
assigned to be Jonathon's First Mate and from the looks the two exchanged;
he assumed they would work out being mated on their own sometime
soon. Finding out more about Ollie, the `bubble boy' would have to wait.

#######

By Saturday afternoon, the Rainbow Resort Club was ready for its first ever
guests. While Auggie was not used to entertaining, he proved that he was a
master of organization and management. There was no detail too small or
problem too big that he failed to address, or solve, particularly those
nitty-gritty jobs such as checking larger glasses for leaks. Auggie was
literally a `terror on wheels'.

Zeek, in Auggie's bus, and a second slightly smaller bus, advertised as a
party bus waited on the airport tarmac to collect the boys and the other
guests to transport everyone to the Club where Auggie, Mattie and Jimmy
waited anxiously and/or nervously depending on which of them was
pregnant. The party bus would then remain available to shuttle visitors to
and from Coral Place, because of parking limitations on the island. Gus,
the driver of that bus, rented from Miami, thought he died and was in
heaven when he found that he was to be lodged in a suite that was exactly
like every other in the resort that included every amenity and service
available to paying guests, whether they were paying or not. When he wasn't
driving, he was a guest so when he was working, he planned to do whatever
his clients wanted done, including possible late night or early morning
trips, prearranged by a boy who carried a soft sided case stuffed with
cash. Lane needed to get back and forth to visit his lady love at odd times
without being too obvious and for those trips the bus driver would drive
one of 20 SUV's that had been rented for guests to use.

One of Auggie's first problems was finding the SUV's to rent anywhere in
south Florida.  Auggie liked to delegate, so the rentals became one of
Trasker's tasks and he wasn't happy with reporting his lack of success and
was surprised when his Uncle grinned, sat him down and whispered some
instructions. At the moment, Auggie was a firm believer in keeping fun jobs
for himself so he was checking brand names in the bar inventory.

Sometime later, Trasker found Auggie and Zeek in the lobby lounge testing
other double old fashion glasses for leaks using both seven and ten year
old branded bourbons as the test liquids and comparing them to popular
brands with no stated age.  Chefs Andrew and Neil were watching, listening
and testing more carefully.

"See this here bottle?" he asked, "It says right here in the little circle,
"Old Number 7, bold as brass, but that don't mean it's close to bein' seven
years old like it said at one time, these boys sell this brand name at an
inflated price an' that labels' got nothin' to do with the quality of the
contents. Consumers think they look smarter or have some better taste when
they order this, an' all they get is a leaner pocketbook." He looked up at
Trasker and grinned, "How'd that work out fo' us?"

"Well, I did just like you said Unc; the billboard division says they have
500 of our signs up in some real prime spaces, like around airports. Ryan
gave me the CEO's name and number. The dude tried to put me off when I said
they pick up and deliver free of charge. He said they do, but only
locally. I said I didn't recall that bein' mentioned in TV ads. They got
plenty of cars up north an' all they have to do is load up 20 on car
carriers and get `em down here by Saturday mornin' an' we'd be happy
campers. When he still declined to be of service, I mentioned that the
other reason I was callin' was that our computer screwed up and lost the
lease documents for all their billboards because we switched to paperless,
but hopefully they'd be found by Saturday mornin'. Of course if they
weren't found by then, all of their signs would have to come down until the
problem was resolved, hopefully before the winter season ended here in the
south and for sure by fall up north."

"Trasker boy, yo' is testin' my ear drums. Are we gettin' them trucks or
not?" Auggie demanded.

Trasker grinned, he was undeterred by his Uncle's impatience, "He
threatened to sue and I mentioned a counter-suit about false advertisin',
neither of which was likely to be settled until sometime next summer and
meanwhile we'd go buy the trucks outright from some dealer up in Miami and
he still wouldn't have any airport signage either by next summer or maybe
ever."

"TRASKER BOY!" Auggie warned.

"Damn Unc, you're spoilin' a good story." Trasker chided, "Anyway just
before I ended the call, I asked if he happened to have the corporate phone
numbers of his competition. We'll be gettin' the trucks by Friday
afternoon." Trasker concluded.

#######

Auggie's plane was the first to land on the single, very short runway and
since the pilot knew he was being followed, hurried his taxi to get out of
the way of the Orsini jet. Dom's pilot was relieved when he was finally
able to stop rolling and cut his engines as soon as he was lined up with
the big red jet. Margery's smaller plane soon nosed alongside its big
brothers that were followed by a fourth jet that was even smaller than
Margery's.

The crowd grew in size beside the busses, with everyone talking at once and
stopped briefly when the forth jet screamed by them on the nearby
runway. Dooby began laughing, apparently without reason, which for him was
not an unusual occurrence, when he saw the little Gulfstream G150. "Now I
get it Dom," he accused playfully. "Your son Anthony loves airplanes, he
came to America to get a little gift you bought him for getting such good
grades and I just remembered he was supposed to come down here with
us. That's the pot head's jet!" Carl, the previous temporary owner, nodded
and laughed while Dom's face reddened when he shrugged, just before a young
man jumped on his back and began to thank him for the extraordinary gift,
in a language that sounded like Italian.

"That must be Anthony," Dooby surmised to Cory.

"Duh, do ya think?"

Dom began introductions with Dooby and Cory, but got no further when
Anthony, `call me Tony', left his father behind and waded into the mob to
introduce himself with two handed handshakes for men and a delicate peck on
the back of a hand accompanied by a courtly bow, for every woman.

"I thought you said he was shy and retiring?" Dooby grumped to Dom, "You
know that he's making us look bad?" He giggled suddenly when Tony kissed
the back of Jennifer's hand and Lane's facial expression changed from
smiles to a killing frown, all accomplished while Jennifer simpered her
response and she looked like she was ready to drop her drawers in public to
make a baby with Tony.

"OKAY everyone; let's get the show on the road!" Dooby shouted. He directed
the adults to the party bus and the gang to Auggie's ride. There was a
short delay while the flight crews boarded SUV's for the brief ride to the
Rainbow Resort Club. Zeek announced that a cocktail party was planned and
then dinner he referred to as a lao-ooh on the beach. No one bothered to
correct Zeek's miss-pronunciation of luau but when Dooby and Cory found out
that the main course was a whole roast pig, they worried about Mattie doing
too much cooking in her delicate condition, Zeek and all the Rebel boys
laughed.

James and Little Zeek explained what had been going on. The old motel that
was originally intended as housing for straight Coral Place guests, snow
balled into a resort that would eventually cater to gay guests year-round
with Mattie and her new husband Jimmy as the owners with four trained chefs
as the resort's co-managers with an unknown number of staff. They told of
how the couple had just returned the previous evening from a buying trip to
Atlanta to furnish their house and when Mattie saw that all the work had
been done to her complete satisfaction; she and Jimmy had nothing to do
except move in and get ready to host their first ever guests.

Zeek slowed as they approached the resort driveway. "Just look at that
there sign Christian boy, de boss is some happy wid dat sign," he
announced.

"Yeah," Christian agreed, "that did turn out well. Does he like the name?"

"Yup, he figures straight guests lookin' fo' a room will drive on by, but
gays will understand an' pull right in. Fo' some reason we already gettin'
phone calls an' two drive ins. The Chef's asked if it was okay to rent out
extra rooms an' Jimmy an' Mattie allowed it was okay as long as dey
understood about the straight guests dat would arrive today, so we already
in business somewhat. Yo' think your folks `ill mind if the staff's in
uniform?"

"Why would they care?" Dooby questioned without being aware of what a staff
uniform dress code entailed.

"Yo' about to see fo' yo' own self," Zeek promised with a laugh.

"I think you're getting phone calls because of the web site," Christian
grinned at the Rebs collectively, "I hope you guys don't mind that I used
some of the video clips Ryan sent me. I fixed it so they can't be
downloaded and we plan to use outside actors or some staff to replace them
while we're here and the resort is fully equipped, staffed and in
operation."

"Damn Christian," Little Zeek protested, "I was gonna be a star."

The elder Zeek giggled while he pulled past the lobby entrance so the party
bus could stop right at the doors, "Yo' already a star boy, yo' the food
star!"

"Holy shit," Dooby exclaimed when he got a glimpse of what he thought might
be bellmen since they were all dressed identically – in blue neck
kerchiefs and matching boat shoes. There were ten in all.

It was Trasker's turn to giggle at seeing the damn Yankees get nose prints
all over Zeek's spotless window glass. "Zeek told y'all that they were in
uniform, but you don't listen."

"Is this where we will guest?" Tony asked enthusiastically although he'd
remained casual friends with his co-pilot/instructor and minder after some
other kinds of instruction, carried out in bed.

"Nope, we're staying at Coral Place, a little private island," Dooby
informed, "This is a gay resort where our `rents are staying." He realized
the situation and started laughing. "Well, this takes care of everyone's
concern over seeing us in the nude. By the time the old folks get to Coral
Place, it won't matter."

Margery and Bernice found Dooby in the lounge during the babble of
introductions. The ladies appeared to be working on their second drinks
already (on the ground), "Dooby dear, this is the first time, ever, that I
regret not having luggage for these studs to carry to my room," Margery
confided with a snicker. Dooby's Aunt Bernie agreed while using Margery's
arm to stand up straight.

Dooby found Trasker and whispered a few words. A short while later two
young men approached the ladies and introduced themselves as their room
stewards and asked if they could show the ladies to their accommodations
after a tour of the resort's facilities. They capped their offer by also
offering their arms to the two slightly befuddled matrons. Dooby frowned
when he heard Margery counter offering her escort a jet airplane ride to
nowhere whenever he was off duty.

"Son of a bitch," Dooby complained to Cory, "all I wanted to do was buzz
the school a couple of times, but oh no; that was too expensive, they
couldn't deviate from the flight plan or someone would shoot us out of the
sky. Now Granny's giving out plane rides to nowhere to a stranger."

"Never mind about them," Cory hissed, "we need to quit stalling and go talk
to Mattie."

"Does James' dad look like he's packing? He doesn't look mad, but he's a
banker and you can't tell about any of them. I think they're kind of like
postal workers."

Mattie saw them hesitate and waved them over with a warm smile and
introduced Jimmy, her husband to be. Dooby as a change of pace was at a
loss for words but he didn't need any. Mattie told them that everything was
wonderful and that she was fine and that they would talk later at some
quiet time. She suggested that they go try out a couple of the new
Sea-Doo's or as Auggie called them, `water beetle boats'.

The boys saw that there were a dozen of the jet water craft lined up on the
beach and two nude 30's something strangers being instructed by two blue
kerchiefs, assumed to be in charge of the boats. The boys looked at each
other and grinned while they pulled off their shirts as they ran at the
sliding doors. By the time they reached the boats their shirts, shorts and
shoes were left on a chair. The strangers greeted the two, pleased to have
another couple as company for their first ever rides. When Dooby saw that
they planned to take out a two-seater for the first time, he offered some
advice based on his and Cory's experience on one of the boats from Coral
Place. Even the blue kerchiefs bent closer to listen intently. Of course
Cory stood by, just listening, laughing and shaking his head.

"Anyway," Dooby concluded happily, "that's how we do it riding together and
we had a blast; check that, we had four blasts before we got back in,
didn't we Cory?"

The guests really checked out Cory and were surprised by the size of
pleasure seeking Dooby's commitment. "Yup, any kind of oil except suntan
stuff, that tastes like shit. And remember beach booties, the bottom is
mucky but it hides some rude surprises if you decide to try things off the
boat."

"How far should we go out?" One man asked.

Dooby looked out into the placid Gulf and pointed generally to clumps of
bushes, small or really extensive, that dotted the shallows on the Gulf
side. "Anywhere, as long as you get on the other side of one of those
little islands so you can't be seen from here or from any other beach."

The same guest looked at the beach boys hopefully to ask if they would hold
the two-seater for them; they would have to get ready. Dooby and Cory
waited until the couple returned from their room. Both men were well
slathered with glistening oil. The two straddled the seats and the man in
the back leaned forward to paste his body to the driver's back and wrapped
his arms around the driver's body where he found the most convenient place
to put his hands just before the boat accelerated to splash the beach with
its rooster tail as it jetted away from the shore.

One of the beach boys offered Dooby a folded 50 dollar bill, "The guy
driving slipped me this for the advice you gave them so this is yours."

"You keep it, you'll earn it cleaning all the oil off that machine," Dooby
declined, but added; "When they get back in you might suggest that they
take out one of those skiffs for the day tomorrow. You could offer to pack
them some lunch and whatever they want to drink and maybe in the future
keep a few small bottles of edible oil on hand, to hand out to adventurous
couples like them. It would be a good way to pick up some extra income."

"Gottcha, do you guys want to take out one of the two-seaters too, after
those `how to get it on' instructions?" he offered with a knowing leer.

"We can't, our parents are staying here and we're just visiting so we have
to behave since we're probably being watched," Cory explained, "and we're
just getting them used to seeing us naked again after we started taking our
own showers."

"Or wiping our own asses," Dooby added.

Jennifer and Lane interrupted by running up to them, she was dressed in the
most minimal bikini that she could find, chosen in part because it fit in
her small purse perfectly without supplanting her small supply of beauty
aids and could be put into use in emergencies. "It's just not fair,"
Jennifer began what would be her often heard daily lament for as long as
they were in the Keys, "you get to stroll around naked and I can't." Lane
was also naked but was carefully carrying a towel to hide his attributes,
which tended to wax and wane; depending on how often Jennifer looked or
pointed down there.

Dooby laughed at his poor down trodden sister, before he looked at the two
beach boys, "Now here's another couple you can help out with a two-seater,
after one of them with their bottle of oil goes to get it."

Lane reddened but grinned down at his lady love, "Don't look at me,
Jennifer's in charge of our supplies."

"Lane Fulton!"  Jennifer raged, "I do not believe that you just stood there
and told the whole world that!"

"Cut the shit Jennifer," Dooby ordered, "just go get the oil. While you're
gone we'll tell Lane what to do with it."

By the time Jennifer returned with the oil, the boys had a two-seater
Sea-Doo idling in the shallows with Lane already seated at the controls and
panting, "What..." she started to say.

Lane wasn't in the mood or the condition to argue or explain, "Just shut up
Jennifer, get onboard as fast as you can, we have to get out of here now!"
he demanded.

When Lane felt the boat move slightly, he assumed Jennifer was on board,
and he accelerated. She was on board but still standing, straddling the
rear seat. The two beach boys were holding the boat, fortunately, and were
just able to push her so she fell forward, draped on Lane's back, rather
than falling backward off the boat entirely. At first she clutched his body
desperately with the hand holding the quart-size pump bottle around his
neck so the pump top nearly took off his nose, while her unencumbered hand
snaked around his torso. As she calmed down, she gradually slid down Lane's
sloping back until her free hand encountered his pulsing erection. It was
only then, that she realized the reason for her lover's unseemly haste; he
was always so `hot to trot' he could be `talked off' by her dirty minded
brother, Dooby. But she finally understood the need for edible oil on the
little boat when Lane steered to behind a clump of conveniently placed
bushes out in the middle of nowhere and shut off the engine.

"Jennifer," Lane managed to gasp, "Dooby told me about so many positions he
and Cory tried on one of these little boats without getting wet. Then
there's a bunch more in the shallow water, that we can try out tomorrow,"
he added.

#######

The luau or lao-ooh was a smashing success with the gang segregated from
the adults by where everyone wanted to sit, that, and who was or wasn't
wearing clothes. The gang, with three paying guest couples opted to dine
sitting on reed mats at a banana leaf `table' on the beach while the more
conservative adults chose to sit with Auggie at one long table on the
terrace.

Jennifer and Lane returned from their first ever Sea-Doo boat trip about 45
minutes before dinner and went straight to Jennifer's suite to shower and
dress, yes, both had to dress because Dom's world acclaimed, high fashion
and higher priced photographer wouldn't be put off any longer. He wanted
them photographed sitting at the luau `table' one of Christian's `classic'
scenes, before the flower arrangements and baskets of tropical fruit were
disturbed in one area that had been surrounded by lights and umbrella
reflectors; an area where the rest of the gang were temporarily forbidden
to sit.

When the young couple finally appeared on the terrace, a hush fell. Lane
was wearing white shorts that had been pushed down as low as they could
possibly go and a matching cloth head band. He also wore a simple fresh lei
and turquoise and silver wrist cuffs but the hush was because of
Jennifer. She was wearing a floor length turquoise silk sheath that left
one shoulder bare, a white lei and a white hibiscus flower in her hair over
one ear.

John DuBois, Jennifer's father breathed a sigh of relief at seeing his
daughter so completely covered in cloth, that is until she walked by on
Lane's arm and he saw that the dress had been split up one side, all the
way to her tiny waist; he couldn't see panties or even pantyhose; just
bronzed bare skin! Of course that was the side and below the waist that the
photographer was most interested in as the couple walked by toward the
banana leaf table accompanied by wolf whistles from the rest of the gang.

John sputtered to his wife; "But she can't sit down wearing that,
everyone's going to see her, her what-you-might-call-it."

Betty laughed, "No they won't darling, she's going to kneel and sit on her
heels.  She's been coached," Betty assured but she didn't know that sitting
in that manner for any length of time became painful unless the woman was
raised in a culture where sitting on one's heels was proper and was
practiced from infancy.  It turned out that foot pain wouldn't be
Jennifer's concern.

Jennifer sat, as Betty predicted, on her heels while Lane simply flopped
beside her, also predictably on the side on which the dress was split. The
young `beautiful, mysterious couple' was promptly served matching blue
drinks in tall flaring glasses that were adorned with a pineapple wedge and
a straw. They tasted, they liked, so they sucked until the liquid level
fell to below half. The photographer didn't like that so he ordered the
drinks replaced.

"Is there booze in those drinks?" Dooby asked a passing server. The gang
was standing around at a respectful distance, sucking longnecks and not
making comments since their turns to pose would come during the coming
days.

"There sure is, those are Blue Hawaiians. They're too sweet for me, too
easy to drink; they sneak up on you."

Dooby grinned at Cory. Cory grinned back. Then Lane ate the pineapple and
Jennifer nibbled a chunk from hers and it sank so she drank the level down
in an attempt to capture it. The lack of continuity spoiled the shots, so
they were served a third drink. However, Lane wouldn't relinquish his
second drink before he finished most of the contents.

"Better and better," Dooby whispered. He noticed something strange about
Lane and Jennifer, who by then were becoming giggly, "Hey Dom, I just
noticed that my sister and Lane have really nice tans; how'd that happen?
They haven't been in the sun long enough."

Dom explained that they were wearing a new spray-on tanning product that
provided the coloring, and it would stay on until it was removed with soap
and water.  The product was the reason the photographer was so interested
in Jennifer's leg, it temporarily removed tan lines if a woman wore a dress
like the one Jennifer was wearing.

Just about then, Jennifer yawned, handed her unfinished drink to Lane, and
tipped over sideways, straight into Lane's lap. She adjusted her position
until only her head remained, and cushioned that by repositioning her
lover's cock through his shorts. Apparently she preferred her `pillow'
reasonably firm since she massaged it to her satisfaction before she sighed
and fell asleep. Fortunately John was talking and didn't see her pillow
preparations.

Lane, being the gentleman that he was, finished Jennifer's drink
first. Then he got half of his drink down before Dooby was able to snatch
it away. Lane just lay back and rested his head on the base of a palm tree
and put his hands on Jennifer's head so her head wouldn't slip from his
`pillow' , closed his eyes and joined her in blissful sleep to become the
second casualty of the evening. "Hey Dad, can we put them to bed in
Jennifer's room?" Dooby questioned, "Nothing can possibly happen; they're
both smashed," he added.

"Sure," John agreed since they'd just showered together. He looked to Chuck
Fulton, Lane's father, "That is if it's alright with you? They've been good
all afternoon; all they did was take a boat ride."

Dooby decided it was time to marshal some litter bearers to carry the
innocent young couple away before the fathers got too carried away
comparing notes or defining `good' relative to their respective
children. Of course in Jennifer's room, he and Cory set about making the
couple comfortable by removing their few articles of clothing before
snuggling them together on the bed and stepping back to see how they would
rearrange their bodies in sleep.

Lane seemed to sense Jennifer's presence at his side and without waking,
turned her and his body until they were spooned together tightly with
Lane's arm under her so his hands cupped her breasts. Jennifer responded by
lifting her leg briefly to reach down expertly between them and pull Lane
into place before clamping her legs closed and holding him there with a
hand on his knob. After two involuntary thrusts, it appeared that they were
in for the night.

"They sleep just like we do," Little Zeek observed. He was talking to
Rodger.

Little Zeek and Rodger had been almost inseparable after Roger discovered
that Little Zeek and James would join them at school. Rodger was roommate
hunting; the most agreeable kind, starting next semester, and Little Zeek
discovered that Rodger already boarded there, while Dooby and Cory did not
and he needed a room with benefits while James and Steve seemed to be
getting along just fine. There were innumerable questions back and forth
because for Rodger's part, he'd never met any other guy who had tutors
before. There was school to discuss, and then there was mutual physical
attraction, which didn't need to be discussed, both boys felt it as if it
was a magnet.

"No we don't," Rodger answered Little Zeek's observation, "not yet, but it
looks very comfortable." Rodger had to look up at Little Zeek to gauge his
reaction to his first ever indecent proposal. Little Zeek was already as
tall as Steve, so he wasn't little – anywhere, and `that' was attached
to a beautiful body.

Little Zeek grinned before he frowned, "It is very comfortable," he assured
Rodger, "but if we roomed together, we'd most likely have to always sleep
like that, what with twin beds and all, we couldn't switch up to one big
bed. I already feel like a raisin floatin' in a sea of cream just from
looking at the brochure pictures and I haven't set foot on campus yet. I
want to go out for every sport I can if the seasons don't overlap or
conflict with academics, so I can't come out and have being gay hanging
over my head too."

"Well, I think we might be in luck there, I have a horrible fear of
falling," Rodger revealed with a grin, "even out of bed, especially a twin
bed and since I never sleep very well because of my unreasonable fear of
heights, I've had to resort to, um, some, actually a lot of self-abuse
every day just to tire myself out.  Plus, did I mention that our door has
not one, but two locks?"

"I imagine I could hold you tight so you wouldn't fall out of bed and maybe
even mentor you about how things are done between two guys so no self-abuse
would be necessary unless I was there to supervise and clean up any mess,"
Little Zeek proposed while he licked his lips provocatively before
continuing roommate negotiations.  "If we're going to room together, you
should know that I have a problem too.  Sometimes when I lay down I get
dizzy and feel just like I was going to float away unless I'm properly
anchored."

"Oh?"

"Yup, I think it's some kind of communicable disease, James had it and
passed it on to me and then I gave it back to him, and now all the guys
have it so I guess it's kind of contagious too; there's no cure but it's
treatable as long as I get dosed regularly by getting anchored properly."

Rodger giggled, "Imagine that, it just so happens that I've been taking
anchoring lessons and training with all the guys, although I'm still far
from expert, working out is very important. If you don't mind my asking;
are there any vacant suites we could check out?"

"Oh sure, but later, the chefs are getting antsy about serving dinner, the
pigs are done and being carved, and we're having grilled prawns as an
appetizer. We can't miss dinner," Little Zeek stated, "that would be
impolite."

When Chef Brian worried out loud to Auggie about having enough pork to
serve everyone, one pig became two, and since digging a fire pit on the
beach was impossible because the Keys were more coral rock than sand; a
concrete block fire pit and grill was built for the first and future
lau-oohs. And after the boys heard Zeek's pronunciation, the lau-ooh became
the Rainbow Club's version of the Hawaiian luau ever after.

Rodger and Little Zeek had discussed many things about school including the
quality and variety of the food served, but neither realized that the other
was an `eating machine' and wouldn't miss a meal, even for sex. After
Rodger agreed that food came first, Little Zeek helpfully steered Rodger to
the most distant end of the `table' where the food was being prepared and
where the platoon of blue kerchiefs who weren't working at the moment sat,
although the faces kept disappearing and reappearing to resume eating their
dinners as necessary. The two boys even discovered that the three guest
couples found that end of the table most inviting as well; the service
bordered on overwhelming and then there were over forty ever changing
younger bodies as a floor show.

One guest couple had been exploring the Keys by car, and saw the discrete
rainbows­­ on the Club sign. Another couple flew into Key West for
the Thanksgiving Holiday with hard to get hotel reservations, had lunch at
the Dead Lobster and overheard the servers discussing the Club while they
trained replacements.  After a phone call, they moved, and the third couple
had docked their cruising sailboat at the marina where Hobby and Dildo
would eventually be docked and where the boys refueled Fishin' Boy often,
since they used it as a floating sports car. That couple wanted to spend
some time on land, so they were referred and even picked up by a boy
driving a near priceless, classic Rolls Royce limousine. It should be noted
that they found shirtless Stevie, their driver, as classic as the car.

When Dooby, Cory and the litter bearers returned to the party, they found
Christian arguing with the photographer while they reviewed the newly
captured digital images of Jennifer and Lane on a monitor while Dom hovered
nearby. It had been Dom's experience that no one ever argued with the man;
he thought of his images as works of art, not created for commercial use or
someone's financial gain, although Dom noticed in other instances, the man
was not hesitant about charging for his images whether they were usable or
not.

"I'm sorry," Christian was saying, "but most of these are a waste of
time. The only ones that might have been usable were taken before you got
them smashed on those fucking cocktails, and that group sucks the big one
because the girl is wearing too much makeup. I told you they are teenagers!
Use the makeup made for teens that Orsini provided; selling that is the
whole point. If I put Jennifer in halter top, short shorts and knee high
boots and put her out on the street she'd make a thousand dollars a trick."

While Christian argued, the photographer's anger grew until he lapsed from
heavily accented Italian, to his native tongue completely. Dooby edged
closer to the forgotten monitor and began playing with the mouse to review
the images himself. His sister looked stunning from a distance in the muted
night lighting provided by the buildings' outside lights and the gas
torches, but close ups of her face in the brighter studio lighting revealed
eye makeup that could have been applied with a spatula. The eye shadow was
intense blue, the dark eye liner accented dark eyelashes that had
miraculously grown to triple their natural length and her blond eyebrows
were darker and somehow miss-shaped.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'd never pay to bang that girl," Dooby
dipped his oar into the already troubled waters, "she looks like one of
those three Hollywood sisters on their reality show. I recorded it once by
accident," Cory rolled his eyes. He was glad that he was a sound sleeper
that only Judge Judy could rouse intermittently, "I watched it for a while,
waiting for them to dance or sing, but all they did was bicker and bitch,
jammed into clothes that would fit Jennifer. They were made up like clowns
just like this," he pointed at the screen. Somehow the close up of Jennifer
had been replaced by Lane. Dooby looked closer and began to laugh and
really point, "Hey, look at Lane; he's wearing makeup too!" He looked
closer, to near nose print distance, "Now this hustler I would bang!"

"DOOBY!"  John warned from very close by.

"OOPS, hi Dad, I didn't know you were standing so close. Have you been
taking sneaking lessons from Gramps?" Dooby didn't wait for an answer; he
pointed to Lane's happy, grinning, inebriated face and magnified it to his
squinting eyes, "See?"  Lane's father Chuck's growl of displeasure
confirmed that Lane was wearing eyeliner.

Meanwhile, the photographer had turned his ire to his makeup artist, by
shouting Italian at her and shaking his finger under her nose. She fought
back verbally in New York City, accented English, "Don't give me that shit
Vito, you've been a slimy prick ever since we went to high school together
in Flatbush! You're third generation just like me, so start speakin'
English. I told you that look wouldn't work on that girl but you wouldn't
listen."

"Excuse me," Dom interrupted, "where is Flatbush?"

"Brooklyn, where else?" the woman, Josie, short for Josephine, helpfully
supplied, before switching to Italian herself, which she accompanied by
several traditional hand, finger and arm motions that showed just how angry
an Italian-American woman could get and left little doubt in anyone's mind
that she was resigning from Vito, aka, Vittorio's employ.

"Brooklyn," Dom repeated weakly, "Brooklyn, New York, not Salerno?"

"No Pops," Dom's son Tony answered, "Didn't you recognize the dude's
American accent?"

Josie laughed as she reinforced Tony's negative, "The closest Vito's been
to Salerno was when he was a twinkle in his grandfather's eye when he
climbed on the boat in Sicily, not Salerno, and the best part of Vito ran
down his father's leg in Flatbush."

"I am now, `Pops', and Vittorio is a `dude'?" Dom looked to John and Chuck
for an answer to a question not clearly voiced.

John shrugged, "What can I say? Your son has been hanging out with this
bunch since this afternoon. By the time he starts Embry-Riddle, he'll be
completely Americanized."

"If this work," Christian's raised voice cut in, "is the best you can do
Vito, I'm afraid we'll have to find another photographer who's more capable
of listening to instructions."

Vito forgot he was supposed to be Italian born, "Well I ain't leavin' here
without my fee, plus expenses!" he countered, "This dump costs a grand a
day, EACH, for me and my crew and we been here two days already!"

"DUMP," Mattie raged to life suddenly, "Someone find me Auggie's cane now!"
she ordered. "I'm not wasting a corn broom on you!"

"Settle down Mattie girl, yo' wasn't here," Auggie soothed, "I'll just
handle this my own self."

"Y'all got here two days early," Auggie countered, "cause yo' said yo' was
needin' to pad the bill. Well there ain't no bill an' never was; all yo'
padded was your ass with good food, booze and service. Christian boy here
will cover your fee, then yo' off to the airport." Auggie motioned Trasker
to his side for a quick whispered conference.

Tommy looked on as Christian wrote a check, after he looked at his
watch. When Vito read the amount, he lapsed back into Italian to
protest. When he received blank stares of incomprehension, he switched back
to Brooklyn, American. "I got a contract!  This ain't enough!"

"If you recall," Christian countered, "we didn't know how long this shoot
would take so you wanted to work per-day, which I assume was why you got
here early. You actually started working two hours ago, so that's payment
for one twelfth of a day. If you want to, sue us for the rest of the day,
but I warn you, I'm very good at publicity, so if you sue, I guarantee the
whole international fashion world will have your biography in a heartbeat."

Christian turned to Josie and offered her and the rest of Vito's crew
permanent positions with Dunn and Paterson. That was an impulsive offer,
but since the business was growing by leaps and bounds and it suddenly
appeared that it would include in-house still photography; the crew would
be utilized. Vito's last gasping complaint was about all of his
equipment. Josie stifled that by explaining that everything was rented,
including the camera Vito still had hanging from his neck. It seemed that
Josie was Vito's business manager as well as a makeup artist and was
absolutely the last person he should have antagonized.

By the time Gus escorted Vito into the back of an SUV, a squad of blue
kerchiefs had his luggage packed and loaded as well. When Gus returned a
very short time later, he, Trasker and Auggie had a good laugh about
something. By then Gus felt like he was part of the extended family, so he
explained that he dropped Vito off at the airport as directed with a small
mountain of luggage left at the curb. When he pulled away Vito had just
discovered that the Marathon airport terminal was closed for the night, the
doors were locked and a security guard was trying to explain that the next
flight in would arrive at six A.M. the next morning unless he'd arranged a
charter. The guard had no clue about outbound flights the next day but
doubted that any included New York City as a destination.

"Oh, Scotty," Christian sang while holding out the heavy looking, expensive
digital camera Vito left behind.

"Don't `oh Scotty' me, I'm too busy and I don't know anything about high
fashion photography," Scott claimed as he folded his arms to refuse the
proffered camera.

When dinner finally got underway, Stevie noticed that there were five empty
chairs at Auggie's table plus Zeek had disappeared somewhere just about the
time that Gus took Vito to the Marathon airport instead of down to Key
West. Stevie and Logan asked Trasker if he knew who else was expected but
Trasker just grinned through clamped jaws just like his Uncle Auggie was
fond of doing on occasion when he didn't wish to divulge information. The
boys sitting at the banana leaf table were served before the adults and of
course they lost interest in who the additional guests were, in favor of
the platters and bowls of exotic Hawaiian foods. They judged everything
delicious, except poi; that it seemed, was something of an acquired taste
made at the expense of a taro plant patch growing rampant on the edge of
the property.

Stevie and Logan were attuned to Auggie's voice since they were actually
very highly paid servants, no matter their official titles; Stevie was
Auggie's `Button Pushin' Geek' and Logan his official `Step An' Fetch It
Boy' so they were the first to notice what might be described as Auggie's
more formal tone of voice he used in dealing with strangers. Both boys
stretched their necks to look toward the terrace and both ducked by folding
their bodies down over their crossed legs until their noses nearly touched
their dinners.

"Our parents, Auggie invited our parents!" Logan sort of whisper-shouted
over the hubbub of the boys' table conversation and laughter.

"Never mind them," was Stevie's swift reply, "there's my prim an' proper
Granny Agatha; she'll go ballistic at seein' naked waiters servin' her
dinner!"

"You may as well get your noses out of your poi bowels guys," Dooby advised
just moments later after she was introduced to Margery and Bernie, "she may
be prim and proper in Atlanta, but right now she's checking out Granny
Margery and Aunt Bernie's so called room stewards and those guys just
called over another guy that your granny pointed out, so I guess she gets
to have one of her own." He laughed harder when he reported; "I think she
likes the new guy but he must be a messy eater because your granny is busy
brushing really sticky crumbs off his pecks right in front of everyone. We
need to stand up, because here they come."

The boys didn't need to worry about awkward moments during introductions;
Grannies Margery and Agatha Rippy, with Dooby's Aunt Bernie, brought
everyone up to speed on who was who among the boys so that mob had little
to say and that was just as well. Where anyone was from was less important
to Agatha Rippy than who their fathers were and what they did to earn a
living and how well they did that, so later at dinner, she could match
parents to boys or in some cases like Carl Bradley, she dismissed Zach and
Billy's absent parents from mind as near-do-wells who would never inherit,
while she thought Kurt, Carl (the younger), David and Allan; foundlings,
would, with Bradley support, do very well in the future.

"Damn," Dooby grumped, "I don't know about you guys, but I feel like I was
just discussed by a committee, to see if I qualified for preschool."

Both Stevie and Logan laughed at Dooby's analogy. Stevie brought Dooby up
to speed, "You're almost right, my granny was checking you out to be sure
you qualified to be friends and future business associates of me and
Logan. In just a few words, she knows that your father builds big expensive
houses very slowly and well for people who can afford them."

"You've got that right," Dooby interrupted, "we only build for people with
the bucks in the bank or guaranteed financing before breaking ground. Dad
can talk to someone like Rodger's pot head for a few minutes before he can
tell that the guy lives on air; you know, like, `you build it now and I'll
pay you in the future, as soon as I get financing', types. If you want on
our short list; come in waving cash!"

"To continue," Stevie resumed, "Granny now knows that you plan to be an
architect and partner with your dad, so I think you made the cut. There's
that, plus she knows that you're already earning some big bucks on your
own. Hell, we all are thanks to your dad, Tony," he added to bring Tony
into the conversation.

Tony had been sitting and eating quietly with a sort of faraway, distracted
look in his eyes. "What, oh, I am sorry, I was thinking of University and
the many things I must do there before I begin. I wonder if I might impose
on you four American friends to help me since I am an alien."

"Alien," Dooby was quick to ask, "where is your home world Anthony?"

"You might laugh, but if you were to attend school in Italy, you would be
the alien. I attended school in England but your ways and theirs are quite
different. In the City of Daytona Beach I need to find a secure place for
my plane with qualified maintenance staff, I must find adequate lodgings
and I think I should find an additional automobile, perhaps an SUV, so I
can invite new student friends to ride with me.

Cory looked surprised and hopeful, "You plan to do all of that from here in
the Keys?"

"Oh no, of course that would be impossible. Pops told me that tomorrow will
be a holiday; he called, for settling in, so tomorrow if you are free, I
propose that we should go there to Daytona Beach to scope out the lay of
the land. Is scope the right word?"

It suddenly dawned on Dooby why Cory looked so hopeful. "And just how would
we get to Daytona Beach?" he asked and held his breath.

"Why we would fly of course; the airport is very nice with a manned tower
and it is very close to the University. Is scope the wrong word?"

"Scope is the right word," Logan assured Tony.

"When do we leave?" Dooby asked, followed quickly with; "Can I drive after
we take off?" And then, "That's where the Speedway is. Can we buzz the
track, just once?" He was distracted by a series of flashes, "Scotty,
godamn it!" he switched his ire to a grinning Christian, "Christian,
goddamn it, we just about had him trained to keep the video cameras out of
our faces! You know you created a monster?"  Christian's grin was erased by
additional flashes directed at him.

Tony giggled, "No and no," he said to answer Dooby with a shake of his
head. "If I allowed either of those things I would quickly become a
resident alien prisoner of your government."

Dooby had an alternate plan. He looked at Cory with a lecherous leer, "Well
then we'll have time to join the Mile High Club!"

Tony vetoed that idea as well. "Not unless you wish to be known as what is
called a premature ejaculator, there won't be enough time. The distance is
very short, we will go very fast and we will just reach altitude before we
must descend."  When he saw Dooby's dejected look he offered an
alternative, "But if you accompany me when we return to New Jersey, then
you will have time to join the Five or Six Mile High Club and I will
demonstrate how efficient the autopilot is on my new airplane."

Dooby pulled Tony's head closer when he bent their bodies toward Logan and
Stevie so the others couldn't overhear, "Gentlemen of the Cause, as a
member in good standing, I hereby nominate Anthony Orsini, alien resident,
for membership."

"I second that motion," Cory managed.

"All in favor say aye, quietly please, we don't want the rest of these
hounds to know that we plan to inject him into the Cause tonight; after
all, this is his first day here and we don't want to scare him off."

"I must protest Dooby; here I am a resident alien, not an alien resident. I
am a citizen of Italy; I am not from some other planet." Tony corrected
Dooby.

Dooby arched an eyebrow in Tony's direction and countered, "So you claim,
but Italians have dark hair and eyes with olive complexions and pelts, I
forgot the pelt. Just look at Rob sitting down there. He's so Italian he
tans in half an hour flat on a cloudy day right through his pelt. Just look
at you and your father; you both have light brown hair and blue eyes. How'd
that happen? Did your identity machine break down?  Or did someone get the
settings wrong?"

Tony was almost in tears from laughing, "Rob's family might be from the
south or perhaps Sicily; we tend to be darker there. My family lives north
of Rome where many Romans are lighter."

Dooby chose to ignore Tony's explanation, "Don't worry, we'll keep your
secret; Planet Rome has a nice ring to it. Now quit stalling; you've been
approved unanimously for membership in the Cause, so I think if everyone's
finished eating, we should sneak off to Coral Place and get you properly
injected."

"Don't you mean inducted?" Tony wondered.

"Nope, injected; but don't worry, you get to inject any of us too, as many
times as you can." Dooby promised.

"Where you boys off to?" Auggie asked just before the five disappeared into
the building.  Four out of five faked atrocious yawns covered by
hands. Tony was a few seconds late, but he appeared to be the best
actor. "Okay, I know, long day an' all.  Just don't forget to get yo' some
sleep!" he called to their backs with a knowing chuckle, before the door
whooshed closed.

Stevie was about to climb into the driver's side of the closest SUV when
Cory pointed and asked, "Hey look, what's that?" He was pointing at a
gleaming silver dual axel, enclosed trailer that was shaped like half of a
bullet that had been backed into a space on the opposite side of the
parking lot.

Tony shrugged indifferently. He was more interested in the promised
injection process. "Father asked to borrow my wheels for this photographic
shoot. It needed to be delivered here anyway, although I thought it was to
be delivered tomorrow." He was about to get into the SUV, when Stevie
pulled him back.

"Not so fast, alien dude, what kind of car comes with its own suitcase on
wheels?"  Dooby demanded of Tony.

Tony shrugged again, "The trailer was custom made for travel to prevent
damage. Some air freight handlers are so careless."

Dooby and the others were not about to be put off; Tony found that he was
surrounded, "And the answer to my original question is?" Dooby insisted.

Tony sighed pitifully and pushed through the guys to cross the parking lot
to the side of the long, low slung trailer instead of the back as expected
of conventional enclosed trailers. He slid up a tiny door that exposed a
key pad where he pushed nine numbers too quickly to see the code. Locks
clicked and several servo motors began to whine. The top or protective half
shell was hinged on the opposite side and it opened slowly. While that was
happening, two hydraulic jacks swung down from the hitch end and began to
tilt the whole trailer back.  When the deck touched the parking lot, the
clam shell top was fully open to reveal the car that was ready to be
unchained before it could be backed off its travel trailer.

"Holy shit," the boys almost chorused together.

"What the fuck is that?"

Tony had the nerve to shrug one last time before he answered, "That is a
Maserati Grand Turismo and my ride here in America while I attend
University. This is why I need a second vehicle, one with more seating," he
disclosed.

Dooby frowned at the Maserati as it disappeared back into its protective
cocoon, "Hey, I just thought of something; Lane has been bragging about
driving an exotic car. Are you going to let him drive this? Son-of-a-bitch,
what a lucky fucker," he moaned, "on the open road too," he added. "A word
of warning, before he sits in that seat, you better have it covered with
plastic."

"Lane is a very handsome man," Tony observed, "it is unfortunate that he
prefers girls."

"He likes just one girl, Jennifer, but when he isn't with her, you'll find
that he also likes guys, and there are a whole bunch of Rebs here that he
hasn't really `met'," Dooby used finger quotes, "yet and wants to. He won't
sneak over here every night, so you'll have plenty of time to really meet
him too," he assured Tony with a leer.

#######

By daylight the next morning, Anthony Orsini had been firmly established as
the newest member of the Cause, and since he was anxious to fly, he was
able to rouse Stevie and Logan since they were closest, without disturbing
the other sleeping boys, but he couldn't find Dooby and Cory in the mass of
bodies. Since Stevie and Logan, were used to Dooby and his sleeping habits,
they giggled softly and pointed to the bedroom door. On the way to another
bathroom to shower, they detoured out on to the terrace and pointed
again. Tony could see an intense spotlight beam coming sporadically from
the stern of one of the sport fishermen out toward the end of the dock.

"Dooby has a bunch of pet fish that live under the dock. He's out there
feeding them," Stevie explained to Tony.

"Good thing we remembered to defrost the bait," Logan added.

"But where is Cory?" Tony asked.

Stevie and Logan inhaled deeply, "He's gettin' breakfast, smell the bacon?"
Logan informed with the rub of his gut. "Auggie's official residence is
Redlands Plantation up in Georgia; the farm is so big it's almost
self-sufficient, meaning that the bacon is home cured. That and almost
everything we eat down here comes from Redlands."

They found Auggie and Zeek already sitting at the table when they arrived
in the dining room although it was too early for a chef; there was nothing
wrong with his nose and he smelled bacon. Auggie was cautioning Cory to
hurry the eggs before the new guy, Ollie boy, assumed to be sleeping on
Hobby, the new sport fisherman, woke up smelling bacon too and came to help
fix breakfast, again.

Zeek agreed, sort of, "I likes my calcium in tablet form."

"Where's Thirsty and Argyle this morning?" Logan wondered.

"They stayed up in Key Largo overnight," Auggie explained, "They set their
sights on one o' them light industrial parks up there that's about to go
under cause o' too many spec buildin's' an' no buyers." He elaborated for
Tony, "Fo' the new booze business so as to keep the warehouses an' still
all close together; they packin' a blank check to close the deal this
mornin'."

"You trust them to do that on their own?" Logan asked.

Auggie sighed, "Them boys did a complete turnaround since I put `em in
charge. I expect they'll go to that bank meetin' wearin' shirts under their
cutoff bib overalls," he chuckled and added, "although the shirts might not
have sleeves; it's a start. I told `em not to be too refined when it came
down to negotiations with them bankers, an' they needed to keep their
finger nails really extra clean befo' they counter-offered. I expect them
big long toad stickers they use ought to be somewhat intimidatin' to them
white collar banker boys."

While Auggie and Zeek talked, Tony developed a rather puzzled look, so
Stevie began to explain recent history and interpret their conversation
until Tony burst out laughing, "Excuse my laughter Mr. Bligh. I can just
picture two casually dressed gentlemen that you describe, intimidating the
bankers by cleaning their nails with knives."

"Call me Auggie, Tony boy," Auggie said with a grin, "Casually dressed is
some good description; the missin' sleeves off their shirts was chopped out
with the same knives and they still sharp enough to shave with, although
them boys only shave even months, an' this is November."

Dooby arrived freshly showered and dripping wet although he was toweling
off or trying to, while carrying a shirt, a pair of shorts, a cap and
sunglasses to dress for the day's adventure. "I saw Brenda!" he exclaimed
while looking at a dining room wall. "It must be a girl because she's so
bossy; she doesn't wait her turn, she just jets ahead of Barry. You know
Auggie, I was just thinking; when she has her babies, we can catch them and
bring them inside so they'll be safe in a saltwater aquarium right over
there."

Auggie rolled his eyes, "Not by a damn sight Dooby boy, natural born fish
stay out in the cove," he declared and continued, "That there pitcher
hangin' on that wall is one o' them Picasso paintin's' an' it's stayin'
right there; although Zeek an' me think it's upside down, an' Ryan boy says
it ain't. If you want live-in fish, I'm certain sure your Gramps Charlie
would just love to have `em," he assured Dooby with an evil grin.

"I could use some help here guys, before breakfast gets cold," Cory called
for servers.  There was no need to ask a second time.

While everyone ate, Dooby began selling Cory his idea of getting a
saltwater aquarium built in the house between mouthfuls. Cory agreed
without hesitation but he also agreed with Auggie, that baby barracuda
should not be included as residents.  They compromised by adding one or
more moray eels and a whole family of clown fish who would all be named
Nemo, for ease of identification, along with other colorful reef fish, as
long as all inhabitants were farm bred and raised.

The next questions were how to get Charlie to agree and where to put the
saltwater tank.  They both liked the idea of having a tank in their
bedroom. Dooby questioned; "Gramps couldn't say no if we gave him and Laura
a tank of their own as a gift could he?"

Cory matched Dooby's grin, "Hey yeah, we could put a real big one in the
drawing room, on the wall opposite the fireplace. If we put it in there we
might use the room more and it wouldn't look so much like a used furniture
store."

Dooby added, "Yup, plus there's plenty of natural light and the fish would
have a real nice view of the countryside." With that decided, Dooby
switched gears, "If we're all done, let's clean up the dishes and get in
the air."

"Hold up there boys. Why yo' up so early an' where yo' off to?"

As Dooby was about to conclude his explanation, he winked at Auggie so Tony
couldn't see it, "Since Tony's an alien resident, fresh off his very own
aircraft from Planet Rome, we're going to keep him out of the clutches of
the government agents. If we don't, they'll haul him out to Area 51 and
carve him up to see what makes Romans tick just like they did with all the
other aliens they caught. We can't let that happen to the newest member of
the Cause."

Auggie rolled his eyes once again, "I just knew I shouldn't have asked," he
mumbled to Zeek and called out a warning to Tony before the screen door
banged a final time, "Don't y'all let Dooby boy drive!"

#######

The flight north from Marathon to Daytona Beach was short and uneventful
and since they flew out over the Atlantic, there was very little to see
below them but that didn't keep Dooby from looking down from any window
looking for boats. Joseph or Joe, Tony's co-pilot and former jet flight
instructor also served Dom as Tony's minder so there would be no teenage
fun such as buzzing anything although Joe invited the boys to peer into the
cockpit and see where they were going while he explained more about the
instrumentation than the boys wanted to know, all while a constantly
smiling Tony, happily piloted the little jet northward without Joe's
prompting.

Tony did call Dooby forward as they approached the Daytona Beach airport
from the east, over the ocean because he could see that the Speedway was
located right next to the runway and landing was as close as they would get
to actually buzzing the track. "Holy shit, just look at the size of that
place!" Dooby enthused with a giggle and a glance back at Stevie and Logan,
"Can you just imagine how many thousands of redneck NASCAR fans it takes to
fill that place? Maybe we should get tickets for the next race so you guys
don't feel left out."

"Very fucking funny Doob," Stevie answered. "It just so happens that we
already checked and the best seats, way up high, are sold out from one year
to the next. If you can't get high enough in the grandstand, you may as
well stay home and watch on TV because you can't see much of the race and
all of the track from anywhere else," he informed one ignorant Yankee boy;
Cause member or not.

It was Tony's turn to giggle as they whizzed across the beach and reached
land. "I already secured season tickets through the company as a part of
our suite package so you are all invited," he had time to say before he got
too busy landing.

Instead of taxiing to the terminal as the boys expected they backtracked to
hangers on the opposite side of the runway and were directed to near the
open doors of the biggest building. Two young guys wearing jumpsuits
surrounded the plane as soon as Tony silenced the engines. After they put
out wheel chocks, they stood by waiting for the hatch to be opened while
they gazed wistfully at the sleek little jet aircraft.

"Does anyone want to bet that those guys are two of your fellow students?"
Dooby asked Tony.  Then without waiting for an answer, he continued. "They
look like they're all about to come in their drawers Tony. You do your meet
and greet thing while we find the rental car you reserved." He gigged Tony
in the side and added, "And don't be kissing their hands, unless you want
to date one."

Joe deplaned carrying a briefcase and headed to the hanger office with a
grin and the shake of his head while his charge, Tony, began doing his meet
and greet thing and the boys headed toward the parking lot to find the
rental car that was supposed to be waiting their arrival. It didn't take
long before the boys returned to the plane and they were all laughing. They
weren't surprised to find that Tony had invited the eager, soon to be
fellow students into the jet and they were discussing piloting of course.

"Tony," Stevie called, "what kind of rental car did y'all hire?"

Tony stuck his head outside the hatch to answer, "Joe reserved a large car
with a driver.  Is something wrong?"

Dooby was quick to answer, "Earth to Roman," he began, "there's a big
difference between a rental car and what must be a forty foot long
stretched out limo with a driver; that's what you got."

"But that is too ostentatious," Tony protested, "I thought an SUV would be
adequate in size, with a driver so that we would not get lost. Perhaps we
should use this car to visit a car sales place right away and perhaps
getting lost will be fun?"

Dooby nearly fell over laughing at Tony. "Ostentatious, right," he quipped,
"there's nothing ostentatious about owning a car that comes in a cocoon on
wheels or arriving at your new school, flying your own little jet. Come on
Roman, we'll go find you a suitable truck, but we may not be able to drive
it away today, there's a little matter of paying for it first."

Tony shrugged off the payment problem, "I have been in touch with our
bankers and they are ready to wire necessary funds instantly as soon as I
notify them, if letters of credit are insufficient." The boys noticed that
Tony was holding a slim leather briefcase of his own when he patted it to
give further assurance.

"Bankers?  "Dooby questioned, "How many do you have or need?" It was
obvious that Dooby was unaware of European banking practices. Some
country's banking systems were less secure than others and their
regulations were subject to rapid change, usually to the detriment of local
depositors.

Tony answered honestly, "Our family use banks in Switzerland and
Luxembourg; there should be no problem."

"You know that it's Saturday here in America? Most banks here close on
weekends and every day that someone waves our flag at them." Dooby
informed.

"A bank does not need to be open for business to transact business. A wire
transfer will appear in the designated account and the business can confirm
the deposit by accessing their account by computer."

One of the flight line attendants whispered to Cory; "What kind of car does
Tony drive if he needs another one?" Cory whispered the answer and the guy
nearly exploded, "A MASURATI GRAND TOURISMO, HOLY SHIT!"

Dooby cracked up again, "That's exactly what I said too, but it sure is a
sweet machine."

The guy corrected Dooby, "No dude," he pointed at the G150, "THAT is a
SWEET machine."

"Is that a flashlight in your pocket?" Dooby asked with a glance down the
guy's jumpsuit.  The innocent question caused the flight line guys to check
themselves out and laugh hysterically.

Joe rejoined the boys at the car and agreed that they should find an
alternate as soon as possible, especially after they climbed into the back
of the monster car. The interior looked like the interior of the party bus
except the facing seats were closer, there wasn't even enough headroom for
Logan or Cory to stand upright and it smelled as if it had been used as a
party bus repeatedly without being cleaned adequately.

The driver delivered them to the local Cadillac dealer where all the
salesmen looked hopeful briefly until the boys and Joe piled out of the
car, impatient to be rid of the stale party odor. It was apparent that the
sales force used some sort of a rotation system in meeting potential
customers so one man was left behind while the others not already engaged
with customers tried to look busy and keep an eye on the entrance driveway.

Tony lagged behind because he had to pay off and dismiss the limo. The
driver looked depressed until he saw the size of the gratuity that Tony
added to the bill. By the time Tony entered the showroom; the boys had all
four doors open and were sitting in the back of a maroon Escalade that was
parked in the middle of the floor. The front seats remained vacant and
waiting for Tony and Joe.

While they waited for Tony, Dobby asked the sales consultant if they had a
silver Escalade in stock since he felt Tony's cars should be color
matched. Tony's stature as a potential customer rose when he inevitably
asked the brand name of Tony's other car. Dooby told him and then lurched
off into a detailed description of the custom built car carrier, necessary
because, he explained, that Tony thought air freight handles were too rough
since the Maserati began its journey to America, in Italy, traveled to
somewhere in England where Tony went to school, before it was delivered to
Miami and towed to Marathon for the sole purpose of being used as a prop in
a short advertising video. Short if they could catch the car after the
shoot with Lane in the driver's seat.

Tony sat in the driver's seat and looked around the interior briefly before
he looked at Joe, seeking his opinion. After Joe nodded, Tony informed the
consultant; "We will take the silver car as my friend Dooby suggested."

"The silver Escalade just came in and still needs to be prepped," the sales
guy advised, "You can have it the first thing Monday morning, or we can
deliver it to wherever you want," he offered and held his breath; the price
of the truck hadn't been mentioned.

Tony grinned instead of looking depressed, "Then I shall purchase both
trucks," he looked over at Joe, "You will need transportation, if you find
this color satisfactory. This way we can drive this one today and the other
one can be delivered to wherever we find suitable lodging this afternoon."
Joe countered that proposal by suggesting that both trucks could be parked
temporarily in the same private hanger he'd just leased for the G150. Then
both trucks would be safe and would be available whenever they returned to
Daytona Beach.

Dooby pulled Tony back briefly as one very happy sales consultant tried to
lead him and Joe to the dealership's financial advisor, the man who would
actually close the deal. "Be sure to ask for all the factory and dealer
incentives and get the advertised rebates before you sign on the dotted
line," he advised, "Oh, and tell the financial dude that you'll pay a
hundred bucks over tissue after he deducts the incentives and rebates."

"What is this tissue?"

"I'm not sure exactly, but I was with my dad when he bought his last
truck. He said tissue and the finance guy looked pained, as in constipated,
also get something off for buying two trucks and paying cash."

"Thank you Dooby my friend, I will do as you suggest."

The boys watched the deal close through the glass office wall and while
they couldn't hear the negotiations, they could see the finance guy's smile
disappear to neutral and regress into a frown while his fingers worked over
the ten key portion of his keyboard, all while Tony ticked off unknown
points on his fingers and his smile grew proportionately. Finally, the
printer belched the contracts, which both Tony and Joe read together and
apparently found satisfactory when Joe offered the Orsini laptop to Tony,
the boys assumed for the purpose of transferring or wiring the payment into
the dealer's account after Tony signed on the two dotted lines.

While Tony tortured the financial advisor with his Dooby inspired demands,
the sales consultant had a portion of the showroom's back wall opened and
the maroon Escalade was carefully backed into the garage area to get its
final check, fill the gas tank and have temporary Florida tags
attached. Fortunately, Tony had the foresight to get a New York driver's
license since the dealer didn't seem interested in either his British or
Italian licenses that he proffered first.

Tony boiled from the glass cubical ten minutes later after the finance
guy's frown changed back into a radiant smile to denote that the transfer
was complete and happily jumped Dooby to plant a kiss on his cheek in
thanks for his excellent advice.  Minutes later they were on the road and
heading east generally toward the ocean where they hoped to find a
restaurant with a view of the ocean or the Halifax River.

Along the way Tony revealed that he wanted to find a comfortable house on
the river that was hopefully located on a bluff on the barrier island side
of the river that they saw as they approached the airport. "Shouldn't we
find a realtor?" Stevie wondered.

"Yeah," Dooby agreed, "what if there aren't any homes for sale on the
riverfront?"

Tony giggled, "In buying real estate you must trust me. I have watched my
father buy a home he particularly liked on the French Riviera that was not
for sale. He merely made the owner an offer he could not refuse, to quote
the Godfather movie."

"But what if the owner doesn't have a horse?" Cory asked, "Did your dad
have to give the owner a horse?"

Tony caught Dooby's eyes in the rear view mirror, "No, no horse heads were
involved, my father's offer was in cash, much more than the owner thought
his home was worth. That is how we buy real estate on Planet Rome," he
concluded and laughed when he saw Dooby looked relieved. He was not about
to be involved in killing any animal just to buy some real estate.

They had lunch at a bustling restaurant that was located on the mainland
side of the river that also was nestled against a new high fixed
bridge. Their view of the barrier island from there was flat, interrupted
by plain looking high-rise condo buildings that seemed to march south. They
agreed that they would cross the river and then travel north hugging the
river using every road that was closest to the water and driving toward
where the eastern airport approach pattern crossed the river and where Tony
thought he saw larger riverfront homes from above. Tony was right, there
was a low bluff and they began to see larger older homes and glimpses of
the river through very old trees that Dooby identified as live oaks, which
he explained, indicated that the land was not subject to flooding since
saltwater hadn't stunted their growth.

Dooby got really excited when they discovered a large new house that was
still under construction and the building's foot print seemed to crowd the
neighboring property lines although it was well set back from the road and
the river. "I'll bet that lot was split away, subdivided, from the next
property, slow down Tony," he instructed, "this next one may be one we want
to look at."

Tony not only slowed down, he stopped, "That home looks much like a villa
one might see from home!" he exclaimed. "I very much like it and it appears
to be well maintained; even the grounds, although somewhat overgrown." He
looked in the mirror again, "What is your opinion Dooby?"

"I think it's beautiful," Dooby replied while hanging out of the open rear
window. "It looks like it was built back in the 20's or 30's and it doesn't
look like anything was added since then. I count four chimneys, what I can
see of the tile roof looks sound and the walls must be two feet thick; see
how far the casement windows are set back?" Dooby didn't wait for an
answer; he began laughing and pointing at something close to the road, "And
best of all there's a little homemade sign that's fallen over that says;
`FOR SALE BY OWNER'."

Dooby nearly fell out of the truck when Tony slapped the big truck in
reverse and backed up suddenly to the driveway entrance. Cory saved him by
pulling on the seat of his shorts, which nearly depantsed him. "Get your
silly ass in here," he warned.  "Do you want to get Tony a ticket for not
buckling up?"

"Yes Daddy, sorry, it won't happen again." Dooby's grin said otherwise.

Cory agreed, "It won't happen again until the next time. Pull up your
shorts and put on your shirt before we get to the door," he ordered. He had
to throw Dooby his shirt since he was the first to exit the truck.

"Fight nice guys," Stevie cautioned from the third row of seats.

Dooby finished pulling down his shirt while he inspected the heavy paneled
front door from six inches away, "Teak, nice joinery," he pronounced and
then nearly fell inside the house when the door opened suddenly, straight
into the arms of an elderly black lady who not only kept him from falling,
she kept him from escaping her clutches.

"Quick Ms.  Bess, call the law!" the lady instructed from over her
shoulder. "I got one of `em!" She turned back to the other five boys, who
were watching Dooby trying to politely extract his nose from the lady's
more than amble bosom. "Y'all just scat on outta here befo' the law comes!"
She seemed scandalized, "The very idea, tryin' to break in a house right
out here in broad daylight! The nerve of some white boys! This town goin'
straight to hell in a hand basket, I swear!"

"Who's there?" another lady questioned from the interior. Then from much
closer the woman said, "Marsha, you just let that young man go until we
find out what he wants.  I think you watch entirely too much news."

"For sale by owner," Dooby gasped just before he went almost limp and
appeared to be semi-conscious. Cory covered his mouth to hide his smile; he
knew that Dooby was acting and not really trying to get free. What he was
doing was getting them into the house to at least discuss Tony's purchase.

They heard the unseen woman giggle before she again ordered, "Marsha, I
said let that young man go, I believe he's enjoying nuzzling your bosoms
entirely too much.  If he tries to get too familiar, you can always squirt
him with pepper spray or simply blow him away with your shotgun."

Dooby was suddenly revived with those additional instructions. He jumped
back to leave Marsha, the black lady, clutching air briefly before she
fished a small penlight-shaped thing from her apron pocket. She aimed it at
Dooby as the other guys stepped back and away from her primary
target. "Marsha don't you dare squirt that boy yet, so far as I can see,
he's done nothing wrong," the woman identified as `Ms.  Bess'
instructed. She was sitting in a wheelchair and rolled up to the open door
to look out.

"But this pretty blond boy's a masher, Ms. Bess," Marsha protested as she
closed one eye to take aim at her alleged attacker, "I believe he was
fakin' an' felt up my boobies with his head!" she proclaimed.

If looks could kill there would be five dead companions when Dooby looked
back seeking some sort of help or rescue, and he found nothing but laughter
covered by hands. Cory of course was the biggest offender; he didn't even
try to hide his peals of laughter, that is, until Marsha moved her sights
to him.

Ms. Bess came to the rescue, "I think we should invite these boys
in. Wouldn't it be nice to have some young company? We just baked this
morning so we have all those cookies to serve. I'm quite sure that they are
students from the college and perhaps they're just looking for rooms."

Without a word at first, Marsha handed her pepper sprayer to Ms. Bess,
smiled beatifically and invited the boys into the `big parlor'. She told
them that Ms.  Bess would be happy to see them. Then she whispered a bit
too loudly; "Y'all put that pretty blond boy on the love seat. I'll just
dish up an' join you."  She leaned closer, "If'n he tries to get away,
before I get back to sit by him, give him a good squirt," she instructed
Ms. Bess with another smile at Dooby, the pretty blond boy.

Ms. Bess introduced herself as Elisabeth Ferguson. When she and her husband
married, they joined two old Florida families' interests in citrus groves,
cattle and timber. They built their vacation home, `River Watch' just after
the war on some of the land they owned on the barrier island that was a
part of Daytona Beach. Now with her husband long gone, their agricultural
interests had been consolidated in a family trust or a Corporate
Agribusiness, and the only properties Ms. Bess had left were ocean and
river front parcels scattered up and down the east coast of Florida and her
daughter and her daughter's longtime boyfriend were after her to sell those
through the boyfriend who fancied himself as a realtor and developer. The
boys gathered from the way Ms. Bess hissed the word `boyfriend' each time
he was mentioned, that he was not the most popular guy among her daughter's
suitors.

While Marsha was occupied, Ms. Bess told the boys that Marsha had been with
her for 40 years and with advancing age, Marsha had become Ms. Bess's
arthritic legs, and Ms.  Bess was representing Marsha's mind more and more
every year. So, the time had come to sell River Watch entirely including
the remaining adjacent platted building lots. The old house occupied three,
there were three more to the north and only two lots remained on the south
side. The third was being developed by the `boyfriend' as a spec house.

Ms. Bess saw Dooby wince. She grinned, "That's right young man, a two
million dollar spec house with the real estate market collapsed and no
buyers in sight. Did I mention that the man is, excuse my French, is an
a-hole, dumb and dumber as can be; but all is not lost. I arranged
financing through my bank so when the bank forecloses on the property, I
will regain the lot plus a very splendid house that will sell eventually
after those people with cash realize that this recession will not become a
depression."

Marsha interrupted by making several trips from the kitchen with a platter
of cookies, a pitcher of tea and finally, tall glasses filled with
ice. Ms. Bess poured while Marsha served the cookies, Dooby first, and then
she distributed the iced tea. When Marsha was finished serving she sat down
in a recliner near the cold fireplace, blinked and wondered why the boys
were there while Dooby, sitting as directed, had the loveseat all to
himself.

Tony spoke up at that time. He explained that he was the student; he was
from Italy and with American friends, was in search of a large comfortable
home before he started University. They saw the sign and stopped to see the
property, inquire about the purchase price and how soon he could close the
deal and take possession, since he was in America on holiday.

Tony frowned as he was about to conclude his explanation. "If we did come
to an agreement, I worry about where you very nice ladies would go," he
asked without asking directly. Everyone looked at Marsha when she burst
into the theme song of the old `Movin' on Up' television series with George
Jefferson as the leading character, who owned a growing chain of dry
cleaning establishments and who was `movin' on up to a big apartment in the
sky' to mark his success.

Miss Bess giggled and nodded in time to the tune before she elaborated on
Marsha's somewhat convoluted explanation. "You see, about five years ago,
when the building market was booming I sold an ocean front tract to a condo
developer at a very nice inflated price, and as a part of our agreement, I
got the penthouse free and clear; the whole floor. Now that luxurious 22
story building is finished and quite empty, our new modern home has been
furnished with every convenience us slightly handicapped girls might need
and is ready for us to move, aside from a few items of furniture from here
and our personal things," she bubbled. "Best of all," she added gleefully,
"neither my daughter nor the `boyfriend' know about it, nor do they know
that I wish to sell River Watch AND all the adjacent lots together as a
package so this old home won't look so cramped. They agreed that I should
only sell the house while they would get the lots and they plan to move me
into some horrid place called, an assisted living facility and Marsha
somewhere else less costly. I wonder how long it will take them to find
us." She questioned, while she and Marsha laughed together.

Ms. Bess invited the boys to look around but only Tony with Dooby, Tony's
construction expert, accepted. Dooby reverted to his childhood days just
after he discovered how to get out of his harness. He darted ahead and then
returned to Tony to report that there were six bedrooms on the second
floor, but he thought one of those would have to go to enlarge the master
suite, create more closet space and of course renovate the bathroom; one of
three and the other two would need updating as well. He pronounced the
floors; all heart of pine, to be in excellent condition and irreplaceable,
so any that needed to be taken up would be done board by board and
reinstalled or stored for future use. He opened and closed windows, rattled
doors leading to a second floor balcony they discovered on the river side
and then jumped up and down on that like a madman to judge its
soundness. He dragged Tony up a spiral staircase on the balcony to show him
that there was a sundeck concealed by the roof angles, an ideal place for
Tony to maintain his allover tan without resorting to the Orsini spray on
shit. The exterior walls were two feet thick and constructed of shaped
limestone. They could see the tile roof really close up from the sundeck,
and although weathered from brick red to more pleasing soft pink it was
absolutely sound and had been well maintained.

Downstairs once again, Dooby raced through the parlor with a brief pause to
nab the last snicker doodle cookie on his way to explore the other ground
floor rooms, while the women and boys watched. Tony followed a full minute
later. He paused to ask Cory, "Will he remember all of his recommendations?
He is so fast he makes me tired watching him."

"I'm in the kitchen!" Dooby called out as a subtle hint to Tony to get his
ass in gear, something he couldn't say in front of the ladies.

Marsha advised them all, "Be sure to look at that icebox! It makes ice
cubes without no trays!"

The kitchen needed to be renovated, but it was light and airy. A door off
the kitchen led to a small basement where they found a boiler for hot air
heat, but no air conditioning, so that could be added easily. Tony
discovered another door in the basement revealed a very nice wine
cellar. Upstairs, they just peeked into what was Marsha's apartment that in
an earlier day would have been the servant's quarters. Finally another door
opened and closed, and there was silence.

"That was the kitchen door," Ms. Bess reported, "they must be outside."

"There he is," Cory pointed through French doors that led to the terrace,
as Dooby ran by on his way to inspect the pool that had been sited on a
lower level so it didn't impede the view of the river. Beyond the pool
terrace, a sloping brick- paved walkway led to the dock. Cory invited
everyone closer to the windows to watch Dooby do his dance out to the end
of the dock and back that he modified to include several stomps and piling
shakes that required that he hug random pilings.

"Look, there's that pretty blond boy again!" Marsha pointed and frowned
down on Ms.  Bess. "I thought I tol' yo' to set him on the love seat?" she
accused.

"I tried dear, but he's too fast, see? Oh look, I believe he's coming back
in; perhaps you should unlock the door?"

Marsha not only unlocked the doors, she opened them wide and stepped back
into the relative darkness and opened her arms. To be most helpful, Cory
and Logan stepped outside and held the screen doors open so Dooby wouldn't
be slowed and wouldn't actually have look where he was going on his way
back into the parlor, `said the spider to the fly'.

When Marsha closed her arms around Dooby, he reacted by hugging her back
and whispered too loudly, "Ms. Marsha, we've got to stop meeting like
this. What will Ms. Bess say, but since she sees us together, how about a
kiss?" Dooby closed his eyes and puckered up.

Marsha reacted by letting Dooby go free except for his hand. She led him to
the love seat and pushed him down to giggle like a school girl. "Pretty
white boy, yo' sure are a caution, but I ain't THAT easy! You just set
tight there an' I'll go make some tea."

"Yes Ma'am," Dooby agreed until Marsha had disappeared in the direction of
the kitchen.  "Maybe I should go wait in the truck?" he suggested to
Ms. Bess who was laughing silently at him.

"Nonsense young man that was well done, she won't be back in here until she
bakes more cookies.  We've eaten our whole weeks' supply and one cannot
serve tea without treats," Ms. Bess replied before turning her attention to
Tony, "Now that you've seen my home and you have my price, I think we
should talk turkey."

Tony looked confused. He looked at his watch; it was too early for dinner,
even by American standards. Furthermore, what did turkey have to do with
buying real estate?  Dooby came to the rescue by cupping his hands around
his mouth to enlighten poor Tony in broadcast mode; "Planet Earth to Planet
Rome; talking turkey means talking business, not dinner. I think Ms. Bess
wants to open negotiations; do you want to buy her house or not?" He got
serious, "If you want my advice, up north my father would charge anywhere
from 250 to 500 for the renovations we discussed." He grinned, "The
difference being how much the client, who would be you, pissed him off with
change orders." Dooby already told Tony that a comparable house anywhere up
north with 12,000 square feet of living space, that was so well built, on
any waterfront and with five additional subdivided lots was worth two or
three times Ms. Bess' asking price.

In response, Tony offered his hand to Ms. Bess before wheeling her off to
the library with Joe and the Orsini laptop to consummate the deal. Ms. Bess
giggled in delight when Tony also offered her a binder to purchase the new
house after it was properly foreclosed and came into her possession. After
all, he explained, Joe would need his own home close by since Tony planned
to make this one of his homes in America after four years at University.

"Now all we have to do is find a really, really good local building
contractor that's still in business to get started as soon as you relocate
Ms. Bess," Dooby told her when she, Tony and a very happy Joe emerged from
the library.

"Well I can certainly be of assistance there," Ms. Bess answered
promptly. She explained; "You see I used my influence through the bank to
secure the best builder to build the new house. I certainly didn't want any
slip shod construction, so the `boyfriend' had no choice if he wanted
financing," she giggled once again.

Dooby actually looked like a thief when the boys departed. He ran crouched
over, straight to the trucks' back door, climbed in to the third row of
seats and lay there out of sight until they reached the new home under
construction. Then he emerged cautiously, eyes first, looking back up the
lane to be sure that Marsha wasn't in hot pursuit.

###

That same evening after Ms. Bess and Marsha finished their dinner; Ms. Bess
suddenly almost snapped her fingers despite her swollen arthritic
knuckles. "Now I remember where I saw four of those boys before," she
exclaimed to Marsha. "Come along dear, we must burrow into our private
video tape collection in the study."

"Yo' mean the one with that light skinned, handsome young black man
standin' amongst all them pretty white boys? The Tarzan boys, is that the
one?"

"Yes indeed, that's the very one. If I remember correctly the boy you liked
most was Little Zeek.  I believe we took tea with four of them; Dooby, Cory
and the two southern gentlemen, Stevie and Logan. We simply didn't
recognize any of them because they were wearing clothes! Oh my! We should
watch it right now just to be sure, if you promise not to swoon again."

###

They met Bob, owner of `Bob the Builder, Inc.' who was working just as hard
as his men on a Saturday afternoon. He became all smiles as Tony explained
the purpose of their visit and he mentioned Ms. Bess' endorsement. Dooby,
clutching a roll of building plans, and Joe toured the construction wearing
hardhats. By the time they returned, Tony and Bob had shaken hands and it
was Dooby's turn to add his endorsement to Ms. Bess'; Bob was indeed a
quality builder. Dooby unrolled the plans on the truck hood and discussed
the changes that he and Joe thought necessary to make the home into a
proper bachelor pad. Said changes were to be paid for by Tony without
mentioning them to the `boyfriend'.

Bob laughed and said, "Not to worry about him, he can't read plans and I
take orders from Ms. Bess not him. He wouldn't know if you added a whole
new wing."

Dooby earned Bob's undying love and the borrowed hardhat to keep as his
very own hat when he suggested payments in the form of weekly, not monthly
draws as was most commonly done. The bills accompanied by a bunch of
progressive jpgs, would be emailed to Tony and he would wire payments
back. Tony promised to return with Dooby in a week. By then Ms. Bess and
Marsha planned to have moved to their `big apartment in the sky' so the
work at River Watch could begin after they toured the empty rooms and Dooby
and Tony listed everything that needed to be done.

Cory rolled his eyes when he saw Dooby admire his image wearing his shiny
new white hardhat in a truck window. "What's with you and that hat?" he
asked, "You wore one when you went out with your dad to one of his
projects," he reminded.

Dooby nodded and readjusted the hat to a jauntier angle before he
answered. "Yeah, I have an old one that was dads, but it's all dinged up
and he crossed out his name and wrote in mine with a Magic Marker. This one
looks more professional, or it will as soon as I get Christian to paint my
name on it."

Stevie laughed, "Be sure he spells Asshole right!" he advised.

"In all capital letters!" Logan added.

"And in a nice bright day-glow color," Steve expanded his thought.

"Fuck all you guys," Dooby retorted and stuck out his lower lip to pout.

They parked in the parking lot at the airport until they could get someone
to unlock the gate onto the tarmac so they could ultimately park the truck
inside the newly leased hanger. This was a common practice among private
plane owners. As the group rounded the corner of the main hanger building,
the first and only thing they noticed, Tony in particular, was that the
G150 was no longer parked where they'd been directed to park it; it was
gone! Joe calmed Tony down by pointing further down the long line of
smaller hangers to where the tow tractor was parked in front of open doors
with the long tow bar attached to something unseen that was inside, and
presumed to be a plane.

Dooby ran to see what was inside the suspect hanger and since he was still
wearing his new hardhat and had refused to take it off long enough to
tighten the head adjustment, he had to hold it down and/or on his head with
one hand while he ran. Cory frowned and told Stevie and Logan, "You know
I'm the one who will have to pay for those jabs you gave him about that
fucking hat? I'll bet you a buck that he wears it to bed tonight." He saw
that for some reason, Dooby had gone commando or super spy. He had
plastered his body to the building and was motioning them to his side.

They realized that whatever he wanted them to see in stealth mode wasn't
too important because he was laughing. "Quick, one by one, Tony first, look
around the edge of the door," Dooby instructed.

They each took a quick look and one by one, backed away. Tony was smiling
when he explained. "I always loved to fly on father's airplane, and when I
was very little, the co-pilot would sit me on his lap to boost me up high
enough to see out the windows and even allowed me to wear a spare
headset. That is what those two student pilots are doing; they are flying
while they clean the cockpit windows."

Joe added, "And they have probably been cleaning those same windows for an
hour or more.  We pilots are a very dedicated group with vast imaginations
and sitting at real jet controls on the ground while wearing real headsets
is far more fun than any flight simulator." With that said, he whistled
shrilly. They waited a few seconds and then walked forward into the hangar
space to find the two students just exiting the hatch carrying their
cleaning supplies.

"You cleaned the interior too?" Tony questioned. He received two cautious
nods. He had asked that the plane be refueled and also washed if the guys
had the time.

The one guy that Dooby accused of having a flashlight in his pocket
volunteered, "When we were wiping her down we found out that someone got
nose prints on every single port except the front, the asshole," he mumbled
the last two words.

The asshole responsible suddenly found the hangars' interior roof structure
of particular interest until his hardhat dropped off the back of his head
with the clatter of plastic hitting concrete. The sound solved that
mystery. "You do that too much you know and you squint a lot too; maybe we
should get you checked out for glasses," Cory suggested and waited for the
storm of protest.

Surprisingly, Dooby agreed, "Maybe, I wonder how I'll look wearing
glasses. Of course I could always get contacts if I can get my head around
actually sticking something in my eye."

While this discussion was going on, Tony took the two student part-time
workers aside for a private conference concerning the trucks; one in the
parking lot and the other to be delivered Monday when he wasn't there as
well as other tasks from time to time that might require use of the
trucks. The discussion ended with the passing of folding money, phone
numbers and email addresses which the guys accepted with nods of agreement
and smiles.

They were in the air 15 minutes later, enjoying the return to Marathon.

#######

Mattie planned a family dinner at the Club in the boy's absence at Dooby
and Cory's request because the little matter of parenthood was growing
daily in Mattie's womb and needed to be discussed with their respective
parents. The boys expected to sit with just their parents alone, but that
was not to be; their tablemates also included members of their extended
family. There was the Chuck and Joyce Fulton, Lane's parents and Lane of
course. Lane and Jennifer sat between the Fulton's so they could get to
know Jennifer better. Then there was Artie and Scott and somehow, since
Dooby adopted Margery Thurston as a grandmother, she was there as well with
the young stud who was originally Margery's room steward but she'd adopted
as her boy toy and escort during her stay at the Club. Mattie did arrange
to seat Dooby and Cory between their parents so the boys found themselves
separated; a rare occurrence, which they found was less than confidence
inspiring.

This dinner was also the first where guests could order from a smaller
version of the Dead Lobster's menu, complete with `Auggie's Oysters' as an
appetizer and fired chicken as the Saturday special although there were no
prices on the menu since the food was included and a guest could order as
much as they could eat of anything on the menu much to Rodger and Little
Zeek's delight.

Mattie accomplished the seating by whispering, with `Aunt' Jennifer's
collusion, that the boys had an important announcement to make to their
parents during dinner.  Jennifer was the one responsible for having her
brother and Cory say anything at all because of the planned showers. The
wedding shower was somewhat less important than the baby shower because of
gifts. There was a big difference in buying a gift for a new mother who was
an acquaintance, and buying gifts, plural, for a grandson(s) or a
nephew(s), whether acknowledged or not and the whole extended family needed
to make time to shop.

Time was of the essence and Jennifer had already put all the boys who were
on Auggie's jet, on notice to have their laptops fully charged and their
credit cards at the ready because shopping in the Keys, she discovered
after they landed, was unlike physically shopping in the New York
metropolitan area, overnight shipping was a must. Everyone would have to
use their fingers to shop. She was determined that her nephews would not
grow up wearing Wal-Mart clothes, not when the best was a mouse click away.

Auggie's family table was equally crowded; there was Auggie and Zeek,
Mattie and Jimmy, James and Steve with Steve's parents and Little Zeek
invited his highly compatible, soon to be roommate, Rodger, and his parents
to dine with them. It was no accident that these were the only two tables
in the dining room, while everyone else opted to dine on the terrace. The
only four people at the Club that didn't know that Dooby and Cory were soon
to become surrogate fathers were their parents.

Jennifer leaned into Lane to whisper; "Just look at my chicken brother;
he's so nervous, he actually has his mouth closed for a change. He isn't
talking. Wait for it, my mother is going to ask him if he's feeling
alright. The only time he shuts up is when he's sick."

Lane studied Dooby's face for a moment before he agreed, "He does look
pale, maybe it's the 24 hour flu," he supposed. "Cory doesn't look any
better either." He giggled, "Of course what one of them catches, the other
has had already, has at the moment, or is about to catch."

Jennifer looked up at her sometimes obtuse boyfriend in amazement. "Exactly
what planet are you from?" she questioned Lane, "You know very well that
they plan to announce that they're going to be fathers."

The already very quiet, nearly empty dining room fell totally silent with
Jennifer's slightly overloud, inadvertent announcement; even the wait staff
froze in place momentarily.

"Surrogate fathers," Dooby corrected in just above a whisper, with a glare
at his sister.

Auggie waved a blue kerchief over and whispered hurried instructions. Soon,
tables were being moved together, chairs were realigned, and place settings
were repositioned until there was a new large rectangular table that would
seat everyone present.

"We think of ourselves as kind of very serious uncles since the boys will
have a father," Cory added quietly.

John Dubois, Dooby's father slapped Dooby on the back, "You dog," he
laughed, "I'm going to be a grandfather! That's fantastic news!"

"When can we meet the mother?" Betty, Dooby's mother asked in an excited
voice. "I can't believe we're going to have a grandson to spoil! Dooby this
is just wonderful!"

Laura and Charlie took the astounding news similarly with slightly
different words, except Charlie was alternately squeezing Cory's shoulders
and shaking him like a ragdoll while he blinked back tears of delight.

Laura looked up at the ceiling, and then at Cory and Dooby, "You said boys,
not boy or son, are there two different mothers?"

"Hold up right about there," Auggie called to the room, "Ever' one shift
over to this here bigger table, so as we can all talk together, but
separate, like one at a time. There's a heap of explainin' to do an' it
can't get done across the room."

Auggie allowed everyone to sit wherever they pleased except for Mattie,
Jimmy, their sons, Little Zeek and James, Trasker and Ryan. Of course he
placed Dooby and Cory so they were sitting on either side of
Mattie. Satisfied, Auggie announced; "This here is the new age family
unit. Now let the questions begin an' I'll just be the referee." With that
said, he made circular motions in the air that ended with four fingers held
parallel to the table that the waiters had come to recognize as a round of
drinks that were `Auggie sized'.

The first questions; who, what, when, where and why were answered
tentatively at first but Mattie drew courage from everyone's apparent
acceptance, evidenced by smiles, so she explained the `how' by discussing
Auntie Sue, the ancient Juju lady openly and frankly at least in so far as
she understood the old religions.  Whatever Auntie's Sue's powers, they
obviously worked as long as `things' were accomplished naturally, or
traditionally and according to old woman's precise directions.

Lane looked confused and innocently asked what was meant by natural and
traditional. Dooby shook his head, "Those words are a polite way to say..."

"Dooby," John warned.

Dooby continued, "...that no test tubes were used to make our babies. You
know, we did it exactly the way that you and my big mouth sister do it all
the time." He was pleased to see that Jennifer had no come back for a
change although she did manage to send an elbow into Lane's ribs to end his
dumb questions and for drawing unwanted attention to their love life.

"I wish I'd known of this Auntie Sue when I was a bit younger," Margery
said to no one in particular. "My career always came first, and I thought
that there would always be next year. Suddenly, I was too old. Maybe this
woman could have helped," she wondered wistfully.

"Look on the brighter side of things Granny," Dooby consoled, "You've got a
great bunch of grandsons to love, and we love you, even if you won't give
one of us a ride on your plane," he jabbed, "and in May you'll have two
great-grandsons to spoil."

"Yes I do and I will at that. Now how do you all proceed?" Margery asked
and dared to scratch her nose lightly with her middle finger with a wink at
Dooby, a blatant act that caused the whole table to laugh at Dooby's
shocked look.

"I think you've been hanging out with these boys too long Margery," Laura
observed with a giggle.

"How do we proceed?" Dooby asked. It became clear that he wasn't thinking
about the future when he answered the question; "Well we're planning a
party, a shower for the kids and then another one for the wedding I
guess. Jennifer has been making all the plans."

"The showers were supposed to be surprise parties," Jennifer whined, "Now
you've ruined that. You're as bad as Lane, he never listens either!" she
huffed.

"A don't think there should be all that fuss," Mattie suggested, "Maybe
just a quiet family dinner and no gifts are necessary, after all this isn't
my first child and the nursery will be finished by April in case the twins
decide not to wait."

Auggie chuckled, "It will be a quiet family dinner Mattie," he assured,
"All these young yahoo's knows not to talk with their mouths full, just
listen outside, they all been served," he added with an arched eyebrow at
the nearest blue kerchief as a not so subtle hint.

That server looked at Trasker for some sort of confirmation before he
reacted. Auggie swung his eyebrow on his nephew to ask what was going on
but Trasker just grinned and nodded to the server. A parade of kerchiefs
began; each carried a single soup bowl, which they placed before each diner
– with the exception of Little Zeek.  Everyone had ordered the highly
touted Auggie's Oysters. Little Zeek's neck kept swiveling back and forth
each time he was passed and his anticipatory smile began to change into a
frown when he was continually ignored.

Suddenly the kitchen doors opened together and were held open while all
available staff lined up at attention on both sides of the door and looked
toward the kitchen as Chef Brian wheeled a serving cart out. All eyes
settled on a large sterling silver soup tureen that was positioned in the
middle of the cart.

Mattie recognized the tureen at once, while Auggie did not. When Auggie was
finishing Redland's restoration, he'd ordered the interior decorator to
furnish the house with all the old `junk' and `stuff' that might have been
in the house origionally. Ergo, there was an astounding collection of
silver that predated the early 1800's manor house, hidden away in a special
vault; most of which, with the exception of a flatware service, had never
been used on Auggie's dinner table.

When Auggie made Trasker move from his family's home, he and Ryan
eventually found the time to `explore', also sometimes called snooping,
because of the house surveillance system; they wanted to see if there were
any other surprises hidden away in the basement, so they found the silver
vault. This was not the tureen James threatened Little Zeek with, mommas,
but that was in fact part of an equally valuable fine china service that
Auggie considered to be everyday dishes, however breakable and
irreplaceable, so that remained home at Redlands. Little Zeek was about to
receive his order of Auggie's Oysters complete with an equally ornate
matching serving spoon, a part of the same service.

"We is home!" a deep giggly voice announced from the dining room
doorway. All eyes except Little Zeek's and Auggie's, switched from Little
Zeek to the announcer, just before the muted laughter began, some hidden by
hands to be polite, while Little Zeek's attention remained fixed on his
heroic order of Auggie's Oysters.

Auggie closed his eyes and rolled his head so that it appeared that it was
about to be unscrewed from his body. He stopped and looked at Mattie when
he heard her laughing with everyone else. "Dare I look?" he asked.

"Seeing is believing," Mattie returned. "They're here," she added, "you may
as well let them stay since they're part of YOUR side of the family," she
giggled, "and they'll take everyone's mind off the earlier conversation,"
she added. She then whispered some instructions to Chef Brian and he had
two more place settings added to the enlarged table; one on either side of
Auggie to add to his discomfort. No one objected to moving to make room and
Little Zeek even moved his own `bowl' and spoon.

Auggie looked back and did a double take. Thirsty and Argyle were
approaching the table in an almost straight line while they carried a
bright orange, five gallon Igloo water cooler between them. They paused
long enough to place that carefully on the recently vacated serving cart so
the spout was just at the very edge of the top for ease of dispensing.

Auggie introduced Thurston and Argyle as his first cousins before they sat
down on either side of him, each clutching a newly filled iced tea glass of
what, on first glance, looked like pure orange juice. "We home," Thirsty
announced again.

"I see that," Auggie agreed reluctantly.

"An' we done real good too, Cousin Auggie," Argyle assured, "without usin'
no toad stickers either. We decided to try loosenin' them banker boys and
them broke ass developer boys up! We took `em some refreshments, straight
outta' the grove in yonder cooler," he added with a toast to the table
before an extra-large swig. "Even that there Yankee legal beaver lawyer guy
that Carter boy sent along to hep us was as happy as a clam after his
second glass!"

Auggie looked right and left as the cousins spoke and gradually his eyes
dropped to the bibs of their coveralls. "I see now both yo' boys is packin'
pencil jars but they somewhat different. How come both got a pour spout
fixed to the top?"  He thought that while the boys were unusually
innovative, they shouldn't have displayed the modified Mason jars so
blatantly. He was more than surprised when both men pulled their jars from
their bib pockets. The liquid contents were a rich dark brown color instead
of being crystal clear, colorless moonshine as expected.

The cousins proudly took turns explaining that they took their idea for
modifying the lid with a built-in pourer in some way to Ryan boy to see
what he thought, and he called Christian boy directly at his office up
north from his `smart box' so they were actually looking face to face and
talking to each other in real time. The cousins told both boys that they'd
been to ABC Liquors to scope out their future competitions' bottles and
they wanted something different and unique, something like a standard Mason
jar with a typical lid to which a pourer had been added. Ryan and Christian
thought that the jar was a fantastic idea, Christian promised to work on
labels and develop a number of brand names while Ryan suggested that they
find a welder somewhere who was capable enough to make up a couple of
mockup lids to see how they looked and how they worked. The welder who
built the still in the grove had remained a friend and was an infrequent
customer so he made the two sample lids and they expected Auggie to be
responsible for testing the new jars/bottles by pouring a competitors' 12
year old bourbon.

Charlie immediately offered his empty glass for a refill in the interest of
assisting Auggie with the testing. The cousins waited until both testers
took an appreciative sip before Thirsty resumed their explanation. "That
there jar brings us to another idee we got Cousin. Since we got to go up to
Tennessee an' Kentucky to find us some charred white oak barrels, we
thought to look in on some o' them smaller distillers to see if'n the price
was right, they just might be interested in sellin' out."

Auggie grasped the reason before the cousins could explain further. He
slapped both men on their shoulders and grinned while nodding his
head. "Yes siree bobby!"  he agreed. "That way we could start sellin' their
stuff at once in our jars, and keep on sellin' until ours is old enough!
When yo' boys headin' up that way, y'all get yo' some checks from Ryan
boy..."

"Why don't they just call back here," Dooby interrupted to ask and
continued, "that way, Ryan can just wire the funds? That's what Tony Orsini
did this afternoon; he bought two houses and two trucks," he snapped his
fingers, "just like that," he concluded happily. He was obviously back to
acting like the old Dooby.

After Little Zeek finished his oysters and every drop of Bloody Mary sauce
that he could get with the big spoon, he rejoined the conversation by
recommending the oysters to the cousins along with the fried chicken that
was cooked in a pot that looked like a portable still, handles and all. He
stopped in midsentence to frown at Argyle first, and then at Thirsty, "Hey,
you know I just bought some plaid shirts like the ones you guys are
wearing. I got them from a Yankee store called L.L. Bean by UPS. I got them
to take up there to wear to school. Just where did you boys get yours?" He
asked suspiciously.

Argyle stifled a hiccup before answering honestly, "We'uns found a room in
the house where you boys store your old clothes. These here shirts were the
onliest ones that fit proper around our shoulders. Was these here shirts
yours?"

Little Zeek sighed after Auggie winked at him, "Nope, I reckon not, my
shirts had long sleeves, an' yours ain't got any."

"While we on the subject o' formal go to meetin' wear," Auggie interrupted,
"I see y'all even wore neckties. Where at yo' find them ties?" He asked and
winked at Little Zeek again to show camaraderie; the neckties were his,
last seen hanging in his closet.

"We done borrowed these ties from y'all's clothes press whilst yo' was out
an' about," Thirsty admitted honestly. "Y'all kin have `em back now," he
offered.

"Yo' kin keep `em," Auggie told his cousins, "since I see yo' had chili fo'
lunch," he grumbled. The neckties were a total loss.

"Chili dogs," Thirsty corrected, "they was some good," he assured.

"Oh yeah," Auggie agreed, "I didn't see them mustard stains at first."

########

Starting Monday morning, the gang that included Jennifer went to
work. Cameras, both still and video were everywhere that there was a gang
member. Both Scott and Christian became the tyrants of Coral Place while
Dom Orsini watched with growing confidence. The parents also watched the
photo shoots with interest at first, but soon lost interest in favor of
scuba diving lessons, sightseeing trips on a sport fisherman, with the
promise of actually fishing if anyone showed up at daylight on future
mornings, or just returning to the Club to swim, sunbathe, or enjoy any of
the club's many amenities or provided toys. By the end of the first
exciting day, soon after dinner, served at the Club, the boys were pooped
while none would admit it, and were ready to return to Coral Place just
after dessert.

Auggie and Zeek remained at Margery's request, to meet with her and all the
other parents when she realized that many represented significant segments
of the business world and she wanted to put the `squeeze' on them all while
she had the rare opportunity to have them all in the same room at the same
time while they were mellow from fine food, drink and day long activities
in the sun. She wanted to discuss the problem of homeless two parent
families at first; how and where to find work for the parents and decent
secure places for the families to live.

Jonathon just dropped Lane off at the end of the building. As he was
passing the Club's glass front doors he saw Auggie and Zeek sitting at the
reception desk. He could see some other people sitting in the room through
the interior plants and table lamp shades, but not how many. He decided on
impulse that there would be no better time to talk to Auggie than right
then. He knew he was breaking a confidence, but that couldn't be helped;
Ollie's safety superseded keeping his secret.

Auggie looked up at the sound of the door opening; he waved Jonathon in
with a smile. Jonathon and Ollie had been expected to move into a room on
the Club's second floor but so far, as far as Auggie knew, they hadn't been
seen anywhere near the Club, opting to spend their nights aboard Hobby,
Jonathon's sport fisherman. However during daylight hours they eagerly
invited guests aboard for leisurely sightseeing cruises in an effort to
lure parties to go out deep sea fishing with them in preference to going
out on Jim-Bob and Carter's boat. At the dock, Ollie was in constant motion
onboard Hobby; washing, waxing and/or polishing something, somewhere. Ollie
was determined to earn his keep by day; and especially at night in the
owner's, now the Captain's, stateroom.

"Hi Auggie, I need to talk to you about Ollie," Jonathon said as he walked
through the doors. When he saw that everyone except boys was in the room,
he began to back away, "Sorry," he squeaked, "I didn't know everyone was in
here."

"Nonsense, come in young man," Margery said, "we were just solving all the
problems in the world and we need a break anyway. Is anything wrong with
Ollie? Is he sick?  He's such a sweet boy, and such a willing worker on
your beautiful boat; we wouldn't want anything to happen to him." With that
said she managed to gain everyone's interest. "Have a seat and a drink,
it's been a long day," she invited and pushed him into a chair near Auggie
while her ever present room steward turned boy toy asked him what he'd like
to drink.

"Well, tell us what's goin' on with Ollie boy," Auggie encouraged after
Jonathon took a sip of his drink.

Jonathon took a deep breath, "Ollie is convinced that his guardian's, his
aunt and uncle, are trying to kill him before his eighteenth birthday, just
about six months away, so he's hiding out down here." With that said,
everyone relocated to closer chairs so they could hear clearly.

Ollie's story was splotchy since he'd only been with Jonathon since Friday
morning and hadn't spent a great deal of time talking, but it began when
Ollie was three years old. His parents died in a plane crash. He told
Jonathon that his father flew their small plane into the side of a
mountain, somewhere high in the Rocky's that was nearly impossible to
reach. The cause of the crash was never really confirmed so the FAA
attributed it to probable equipment failure at high altitude and/or pilot
error.

Ollie's Aunt and Uncle moved into the family home the same day the crash
site was found and they began to tell Ollie and anyone else interested that
he had a chronic problem with his immune system and the only place he was
safe from any infection was inside the family home at first and when he was
allowed outside to play, he had to wear a surgical mask. Jonathon noted
several frowns, "That's what I thought too. I remember a movie about this,
I think it starred John Travolta with the same problem; he was the bubble
boy who had to wear something like a spacesuit to go outside. True or not I
don't know, but Ollie told me that the servants and his teachers were okay
because they were given shots so he was safe from them."

"But that is absolutely ridiculous!" Margery protested.

"Not so much if yo' was spoon fed the same story from when you was a
toddler," Auggie countered. "I expect he wasn't abused none otherwise, was
he?"

Cole shook his head, "Oh no, quite the opposite, he was given everything he
asked for, anything at all to keep him quiet and content. That's how he
discovered that his Aunt and Uncle were out to get him before he turned 18
and got control of his parent's estate, he got bored and began roll
playing; just games on his computer at first, and gradually he became a
secret agent."

Auggie and some others who had met Ollie could imagine him in a large home
with servants and innocent relatives; all of them potential enemy agents
and therefore targets for surveillance. Auggie giggled, "He'd be a mite
better spy than a cook, I imagine," he surmised.

Jonathon cracked up laughing and nodding his agreement. "After his first
batch of eggs this morning, I found him a pair of long nose tweezers in the
first aid kit, before he tried again. He did much better the second time
around," he reported concerning his Ollie prepared breakfast."

"Anyway," Jonathon continued, "early on, his guardians got tired of buying
him stuff so they gave him a debit card so he could just order whatever
toys he wanted himself."

"Utoh," John DuBois, burst at laughing; "I cannot ever imagine giving Dooby
a debit card and cutting him loose in a store or online; at least before he
got some money of his own. Now he's sort of a tight wad, which is a good
thing I guess."

"Exactly," Jonathon agreed. "Ollie said watched movies all the time since
he was almost housebound, and after a few spy type movies, he wondered if
all that neat spy stuff really existed. He went shopping online and
discovered that things like bugs and tiny cameras were indeed available for
a price." Jonathon switched gears; "The second mistake his uncle made was
giving him an account number on the debit card. Once again he went online
and registered with the bank for online services after he discovered that
his name was on the account with his uncle's; he began tracking deposits
and withdrawals which led to a number of other accounts all of which
included his name. I guess ultimately he discovered that the source of his
uncle's income was his, Ollie's, parents' estate. Every dime the trust
earned; flowed out to their joint accounts just as fast it was
posted. Ollie said there are a lot of securities but the bulk of the
estates' income comes from really long-term property leases all over
California primarily."

Margery frowned, "Leases, real estate leases?" she asked quickly, and "Did
Ollie tell you his last name?"

"Yes, but please don't tell him I told you; his last name is Olsen, Oliver
Olsen, Junior, to be exact. Do you know the name?" he asked when he saw
Margery go pale.

"Why yes of course, my husband and I did business with Oliver Olsen Assets
before Oliver and his wife Christine died so tragically a dozen years
ago. My company still does some business with the Olsen Assets Trust. I
believe their company logo is simply two intertwined `O's. That company is
very capably managed though. They are very tough negotiators and only lease
out parcels, never sell; much like my own little company," she admitted
reluctantly with a blush. By then almost everyone who knew Margery, also
knew that referring to her company as `little', was a polite fiction.

Jonathon agreed with a nod, "That's our Ollie. This afternoon he was
moaning about having to dig out his one good pullover shirt since all the
guys had to wear shirts and shorts to dinner tonight; his shirt is
monogrammed with double `O's.  About a year ago his uncle announced that
he'd been taking some miracle drug and that it worked; he was cured. He
could go anywhere and do absolutely anything he wanted to. Ollie said his
aunt and uncle hoped he'd have an accident."

Auggie interrupted; he was stuck on Ollie's wardrobe, "That ain't right,
that boys' got him a mighty big backpack that was slap full and some
heavy. He left it in my ride his first day."

That observation drew a laugh from Jonathon. He answered, "Yeah it is
heavy; its three quarters full of money, folding money. He's been siphoning
cash from all the accounts that he found.  He needed money to escape and
fly down here to the opposite side of the country and live off the
grid. The kid's a pilot and he owns his own little Piper Cub that his uncle
gave him as a gift. I guess he paid for it with Ollie's money. Ollie is
sure he was given the plane in the hope he might crash, or, if all else
failed; like maybe getting stuck in an underwater cave, or maybe have a
parachute fail to open. He was so happy to experience all the things that
were dangerous or exciting, things he could never do before he was suddenly
miraculously cured," he interjected, "that if he didn't kill himself
accidentally from playing, the plane could be tampered with just like his
parents' plane was."

There was a singular intake of breath.

#######

My thanks to Emoe once again for editing my stuff! In that regard, you
`lint pickers' who write to tell me about a goof or two should edit your
emails most carefully BEFORE you send them to me... Better yet, make 23,000
words into a story and send THAT to me - mistake free.

Remember Nifty is a FREE site! To help keep it that way, donations are very
gratefully accepted.

HAPPY READING!

Jamie Haze