This is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously; any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Dennis Milholland – All rights reserved. Other than for private, not-for-profit use, no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in any form or by any means, other than that intended by the author, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Careful! This is a work of fiction containing graphic descriptions of sex between males and critiques of religion and governments. And last but not least, Nifty would like your donations.

Farewell, Uncle Ho

by Dennis Milholland

questions and comments are welcome. www.milholland.eu / dennis@milholland.eu

Chapter 16 (Sat., Dec 24, 1966)

I awoke at around dawn, or so I thought. But I knew, without a doubt, that I was cuddled between my Teddy Bear and Lon. Marv was the first to pull me in closer; his furry leg over my hip intensified my need-to-piss woody. Lon, not quite awake, stuck his dick between my legs from behind and was poking my balls. We were petting, sucking and tickling one another when Bat came in and opened the drapes. All we could see was grayish white. It was still snowing.

"We're gonna have to get things rolling, if we're gonna pick up Dr. Liang on time." It never ceased to amaze me how coherent Bat could be so early in the morning. "It's a blizzard out there, and even with my Land Rover, it's going to be a challenge to get everywhere on time."

Marv shot out of bed and went to the bathroom across from my bedroom, and Lon rushed down the front stairs to the bathroom next to his bedroom. That left me with a full bladder but an opportunity to make a suggestion to Bat: "Do you have another cardigan that matches ours but has a different color?"

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Bat patted my ass, and his expression told me that he wished that we could do something other than show Dr. Liang the property. "Let's see, Marv's is black, mine is dark blue, and yours is dark red, so we have green or yellow. Not much of a choice left with that pattern."

This was better than I'd hoped for. "Yellow. Definitely, yellow. Is it bright yellow?"

"Yeah." He squeezed my left ass cheek, letting a finger migrate toward my hole. "That seemed to brighten your day."

"The color or your finger?" I tittered, stretching my ass a little in his direction.

His sigh of want was heart-felt. "Come on." He patted my ass again. So, yellow it is."

Marv was coming back from his quick shower, drying himself. "What's yellow?"

"The cardigan, we're going to give Dr. Liang, to keep him from freezing his ass off." was Bat's rundown.

He looked at me, drying his balls and ass. "Won't that convey the wrong message?" His tone was volleying somewhere between concerned and jocular.

"No," I started for the bathroom and wagged my dick at him. "it's the royal color of China and will indicate our respect for his age and position."

"How old do you think he is?" Marv didn't even think about adding: 'It's so hard to tell with you guys.' And that was one of the several reasons why he'd advanced to the position of my favorite Caucasian.

"About the age of your parents." I yelled through the two open doors, while I let go of a major stream, and thought to myself: 'Damn, I'm going to miss these guys come January the tenth.'

***

Before we left to collect Dr. Liang, Bat had taken care of some chores in the early morning. First, he'd put chains on the otherwise minimalistic Land Rover, and had retrieved a big box of fur hats from the attic. And each one had a metal spike on the top. It wasn't very big, but it was there. Trying one on, Marv commented: "Sort of makes you want to rape and pillage."

Once we were in the car and on our way to an Army and Navy surplus depot in Flatbush, I noticed that Lon's cardigan was the same as ours, only chamois in color. Bat had given us camel-hair scarves, of course made by Mom, to match the sweaters.

"Why on earth is there a spike on the top?" was my question, wondering when one of the spikes was going to rip the fabric lining of the car's roof. Looking at myself in the rear-view mirror, Attila came to mind.

"So you're head doesn't overheat." Bat said without the slightest incrimination for our having made fun of his Mongolian fur hats with the big ear-and-neck flaps. "The the metal spike works like a thermostat. Look at the old German helmets. Their spikes even have holes at the base, like a chimney."

"Sounds reasonable." was Marv's conclusion. "Did the Germans get the idea from you guys?"

"I think the King of Prussia got the idea from the Russians." Bat chuckled. "But the Russkies definitely got it from us."

We pulled into an almost empty parking lot. A snowplow was losing the battle of clearing it. We parked next to the entrance and got out. A man, maybe a little older than Bat, but aside from that could have been his twin, opened the door to let us in. A round of introductions in Mongolian, and to my amazement, I understood it. Bat had been teaching me some basic phrases, but I could piece it together, filling in the gaps with interpreting their body language.

But what I found even more amazing was that Lon and Marv were carrying on a conversation with Bat's double. And I damn near burst with pride, when I was able to tell him, stumbling a little and very slowly, but nonetheless, I could say that I was glad to meet him.

Everyone stopped talking and looked at Bat's cousin. Of course, the first thing that ran through my mind was that I'd said something rude, crude, or naughty. The cousin walked up to me, standing there in my Mongolian clothes and fur cap with a spike, and hugged me. I thought it was only Bat who hugged like this, but when I squeaked, he let me go and addressed me in English. "Our family keeps getting more diverse. Welcome, brother Kitaijin." He then explained that Kitaijin meant 'of the Han people', which, at least, was half true.

The reason for our adventure to the Army and Navy surplus store was to purchase eight pairs of five-buckle rubber galoshes for the four of us, Dr. Liang, his bodyguard, Brian and Jackie. Of course, we had to guess about the size of Dr. Liang and his bodyguard's feet, but we managed, since our average shoe size was a 9. Obviously Bat thought that the snow was going to stay. He also bought a proper winter-weight car coat for Dr. Liang's bodyguard, since he didn't get a cardigan from our little club.

Needless to say, our arrival at the Waldorf on Park Avenue was a hit. The best comment came from a woman, who vaguely resembled Tallulah Bankhead: "My God, Huns!"

Dr. Liang and his bodyguard had just arrived in the lobby, when hotel security tried to keep us from getting too near. When Dr. Liang instructed hotel security in perfect English that we were good friends, Bat's face went coronary red. He looked at me, and I could tell he was furious. Dr. Liang noticed Bat's face and said meekly, looking downward. "I only speak the language of our colonialist oppressors when I absolutely must." and then to me in Cantonese. "Besides your Chinese is much better than my English."

Bat quietly accepted Dr. Liang's indirect apology with a smile, albeit slightly forced, and approached him carefully. I had to nudge Marv in the ribs to get a grin.

I'd only heard Bat's Cantonese once or twice at most, but, like with my Mongolian, he spoke softly, stuttering somewhat, but made himself understood. "Please, accept this to keep you warm."

Dr. Liang's eyes were big with surprise and his smile made his face go almost perfectly round. If he hadn't been in such good shape, he would have resembled the laughing Buddha even more. "You want me in your society by wearing this wonderful gift?"

Bat gave me a helpless look, which told me that he'd missed it. I whispered a translation, but he answered in Cantonese: "It would be an honor."

I had to explain the use of galoshes to the good doctor and his bodyguard. They very politely insisted that they had to remove their shoes, and I very politely insisted that they did not. Then I took one of mine off to show them that they were overshoes, meant to keep their shoes warm and dry.

We finally had them decked out in their new winter duds, including fur hats with spikes and sheep-leather mittens, just in time to see a tow-truck arrive to tow off Bat's Land Rover. Marv had the cops and the truck driver cowering in a matter of seconds at the mention of Mayor Lindsay, much to the delight of our friends from Hong Kong.

During Marv's instructions to the cops, Dr. Liang asked if Marv actually knew Mayor Lindsay. When I told him: "not to my knowledge", his approval of Marv skyrocketed.

***

Bat had acquired a sizeable chunk of the business buildings, private houses, and industrial lots along 8th Avenue and side streets between 50th Street and McKinley Park in the area of South Brooklyn, now known as Sunset Park. His asking price was $38,000,000. for all of them. Who knew what his investment had been. Many of the buildings were boarded up but not in total disrepair, and when we met up with the maintenance crew, we found out why. Not only had Bat acquired the property, but had been willing to make essential repairs, like leaky roofs and plumbing, and to keep the places up.

Dr. Liang took copious notes, and inspected nooks and crannies, as if he were buying each individual building for his own use. At one point, he excused himself from Bat, Marv, and me to take the low man on the maintenance team's totem pole off to one side. The man of Hispanic heritage nodded that he understood, looked concerned at Bat who shrugged and nodded that he agreed to anything the good doctor wanted. The man led us to the next site. We walked for a few blocks and ended up at a row of garages on a warehouse lot that needed some work done, but which weren't in bad shape, overall.

Again the shrewd Dr. Liang had to laugh. He went to Bat, took his hand and shook. "This is to seal the deal, Mr. Khan. I asked this gentleman to take us to your property, which was in the worst repair. And if this is it, you have a deal." After I had translated, Bat smiled and nodded, but didn't seem overly exuberant. I could tell that something was eating at him, but I couldn't tell what.

Then, I found out what it was. "You do know my asking price?"

Dr. Liang nodded that he did and pulled out a blue-backed document out of his thin, leather briefcase. He handed me the document. I looked at it and, seeing that it was in English, handed it to Marv. Marv took one look at the very short but signed and notarized sales agreement, consisting of two paragraphs, stating that Dr. Liang would pay USD 38,000,000. into Bat's account at the Hong Wam Bank for the transfer of the property, a detailed list of which was attached to this contract acceptance document.

The only stipulation was that Bat would keep a balance of USD 30,000,000. for one year. As we found out, it was Dr. Liang's bank. I asked meekly, if I could open an account there, as well. To my surprise, Dr. Liang took out three forms and told me to sign them. Smiling, he handed me a card with my account number on it, "Mr. Khan told my office that you would require a bank affiliation. It's an off-shore, foreign account, and functions much like a numbered account in Switzerland." and a sealed envelope, which contained my security code to access information about the balance over the phone. "My bank has been instructed to deal with you only in Cantonese to lessen the likelihood of someone being able to listen in."

The ride back to the Waldorf Astoria went slowly, due to the snow, and with only unimportant chitchat, due to the fact that we were all exhausted. I noticed Dr. Liang's bodyguard stealing glances at me and would look away quickly, once I would catch him at it. This had happened four or five times, until Dr. Liang said quietly: "I think that you've caught someone's fancy."