Date: Tue, 20 May 2008 20:29:39 -0500 From: fireflywatcher Subject): Desolation, chapters two and three The usual disclaimers apply: if you are under eighteen or sexual content is illegal where you live, read no further. All rights to this original fiction story are retained by the author (myself) unless I give written permission to reproduce or publish it. Please donate to nifty. I thank you all for reading this story. I'd appreciate and comments or suggestions. fireflywatcher@gmail.com I'd like to thank Miguel Sanchez and Clark for their help editing and improving this story. DESOLATION CHAPTER TWO By fireflywatcher- Phil Ford Dusty little towns on roads that lead to farms and ranches and not much else are everywhere; if you live in a town without a bank or a grocery store or any major businesses, you know you live at the end of the road. For Dan, just cashing his paycheck meant an hour's drive or paying a fee at the convenience store. If it was cashed in town, there wasn't much to buy and even paying bills meant buying money orders to pay them. You had to go somewhere whether you liked it or not, even to buy a damn beer. It was Friday, the almost universal payday. Dan's boss had decided years before to have him work an extra hour every other day and take off at noon on Friday. All the other employees were Mexican illegals, who got paid in cash and worked Friday afternoon. Dan spoke Spanish like he was born Mexican. His boss only spoke English. There was no communication between them except through Dan. His boss expected him to do whatever was needed, and only to tell him it was taken care of when the task was completed. If Dan couldn't do what he wanted, it was impossible. A lot of times Dan didn't have the money or the gas to get to the bank. Tim always rode along to bank and grocery shop, if you could call it that. If Dan was broke, he wrote a hot check at the Gas'n'Go, hoping it would be covered by the time the check hit the bank. He had to wait for Tim to show up before going into town. Tim always went with him. The exceptions were just that, exceptions. He showered and shaved again even though he'd done it at 5 AM, Dan was dirty at noon. He ate the last of Wednesday's stew and kicked back until Tim showed up. A little after three in the afternoon, Tim showed up. Dan was, as the cowboys say, cleaned up real good. He had his white pearl snap shirt and wrangler jeans on, with his silverbelly hat and boots shined so you could see your face on the toes. Tim was filthy from work. Not that bad really, with his red hair and ear- to-ear grin he was just rough, bad boy cute. It was a little after three thirty, plenty of time to get to town without any hurry. The neighbor kid Brian banged on the door just then. "Do you need your yard mowed this week, Dan? I need to make some spending money for the movies tomorrow night" "Hell yeah, Brian; you know my mower is broke. I can't afford a new one yet." Dan would still be doing it himself, but he loaned it out and it came home busted after a friend ran it with no oil. Dan had even provided the gas and a quart of oil. "OK, I'll do it in the morning." Brian was about 18 with short blonde hair and a cowlick right in front on the left side. He was growing into his looks, which would probably end up a bit on the exceptional side. He was an honest kid, who always did what he said he would do. "Got a beer for me on the sly, Dan?" Dan just nodded and got one for each of them. Brian got comfortable on the couch. Tim had his hand ready to take it before Dan even got back. "You only get one, and our agreement stands, Brian. Anybody finds out I gave a beer to a kid and I will get locked up." The kid knew payday was the only day to ask for work. A poor man can't see tomorrow. If money is in his hand, he'll loosen the grip on it. They exchanged news and told their plans for the weekend, and then the cans were emptied. Dan announced it was time to head to town. Everyone headed to the door. Dan locked it behind him, but all the windows were left open. It was just West Texas security. Someone crawling in your window would result in a call to the sheriff. Dan wouldn't be back for over an hour, but a general sense of honesty prevailed. A poor man didn't have much of value anyway. There was no gas station between there and town, only the beer store on the county line. Dan and Tim stopped at the Gas'n'Go before getting on the road, pumping just enough gas in the tank for the trip into town. Riding on a bus headed to the same town was Laura. At five foot two, with long brown hair, she wasn't an exceptional beauty. With a high waist, a heart- shaped butt, and reasonably large breasts, she was definitely desirable. Laura's inner beauty was a bit tarnished. Life here wasn't her first choice. Drugs, asshole boyfriends who beat her up, and life in Dallas had put her on her family's tough love list. Her aunt was her last hope. "Don't you be sleeping around here, girl, this town doesn't forget," her aunt had told her over the phone before she left Dallas. The bus ticket was all she could scrape up. It didn't even stop here. Her aunt had to drive where Dan and Tim were headed just to bring her home. Two suitcases she could barely carry held everything she owned. The aunt's friend owned the Gas'n'Go. Laura's arrival was at the right time, when help was needed at the store. Her cousin left a '66 Nova in the barn when he went to Vietnam. His return in a body bag, destined for the cemetery left it sitting where he parked it. Old Charlie, the local shade tree mechanic, had the car running in a week. Aunt Patti got new tires, battery, tags, and insurance. Laura's life took a giant leap, except for her social life. It wasn't that it hadn't been good before. Circumstances had taken everything away as fast as she could accumulate them. Dan paid for the gas and went back to the truck. Tim got a can of Copenhagen with borrowed money from Dan. "I'll give it back when we get our checks cashed," Tim assured him. He never chipped in on the gas to town though. Dan needed to go anyway. Tim was just along for the ride. As the flat land with the scattered fields of the southern plains passed by them as they made their way into town. It was still the green of spring as they passed. The beer store was passed by. It would still be there on the return trip. The rock station in Midland/Odessa played on the radio. Heat lightening flashed around them. It wouldn't rain today, just tease them. Finally they reached town. A quick trip to the bank, then the grocery store and they headed home. Wal-Mart wasn't on the schedule today. Money was tight. Dan and Tim both bought beer at the grocery store. Liquor was at the beer store on the return trip. Tim got a bottle of Jack Black. Dan was content with beer. The Copenhagen money wasn't repaid. It was a normal week. West of town, Martin Culler sat with his back against the big wheel of the tractor beside the barn. It was late afternoon and his day working on the Esterhazy place was over for now. Martin had a small house just a few hundred yards from where he sat, provided him as part of his pay and had lived on the ranch now for nearly twenty years, but couldn't find the energy to make the walk to his home. It was only himself, Maria and Bob who lived and worked there now. Martin had been alone all these years, nothing but a ranch hand and never really getting close to the family. His job for many years had been to get the daily work done and with whatever time he had left to teach Bob how to run the place. Even the teaching he had done was done stoically, never a smile or a frown, just doing matter-of-factly what had to be done. Martin really cared about young Bob, but the cowboy life made it inappropriate to let on about how he felt. One by one Martin had taught Bob everything he knew. Even Martin's house was built with adobe bricks he helped Bob make and mortared into place by both their hands. From a large ranch with many head of cattle and lots of cultivated fields, the used portion of the land had shrunk to serve a small breeding herd and only fields necessary to sustain them. On one occasion, after all the help had been let go and only Martin and the boy remained, help was needed to work the cattle. They were all pinned up in the corral. The company plane landed with a full load of men, all in new jeans and shiny boots and wearing new felt hats even though it was summer and straw hats better suited the season. The help Mr. Esterhazy brought was no help at all. They stood around the fence, afraid of getting shit on their boots or dirtying up their new duds, laughing at Martin and Bob as they worked the cattle by themselves. Even that was made more difficult because the cattle shied away from the side of the corral where the men stood and bolted back to rejoin the herd. For Martin and Bob, it turned a hard day harder and kept them busy into a second day's work, where they would have finished in one day if just left alone. The plane flew them all home and no help was ever brought again. Martin gradually organized things where all the tasks could be done by one man alone after that. Bob had gone through a bad time with the men laughing at him and Martin couldn't bear the thought of it ever happening to him again. The ranch didn't need to make money anymore. Martin felt like he was excess baggage, just hanging around waiting to die, and at seventy two that wouldn't be much longer. He only wished he had found love once in his life. Martin leaned further back and closed his eyes. The next morning Bob found him still leaned back in the same spot. His job was done. CHAPTER THREE The sound of the mower starting roused Dan from his sleep. Did Brian really need to start mowing at seven in the morning? After getting home, Tim had left to play pool at a friend's house. Dan had fallen asleep on the couch, woken up at three and gone to bed. At seven, he was up and sitting on the porch drinking coffee. The house was aligned east–west, with the front porch on the west side of the house. In the morning shade, the breeze brought chill bumps to his legs. In an hour his shorts and t-shirt would be oppressive as the heat built. His shirt would be gone. The strong taste of the black coffee filled his senses. It would help clear the weeks dust from his throat. All the muscle aches persisted. His lower back throbbed from lifting heavy loads all week. Next week would be better. Dan's body would settle into the pattern of lifting and bending again. Only his thoughts would not adjust. Fear raced through his mind. Having never slept with a woman, the thought brought out all the demons. 'Can I really find a woman interested in me?' Dan thought. At thirty four it wasn't likely to happen, not here anyway. His doubts about being able to perform were calmed by the fact Tim would always be there with him. If he never had a relationship with a woman, all he had to do was look at the only lover he had ever had. Coffee helped clear his mind. The smell of the honeysuckle carried him away and he eased back listening to the rhythmic sound of the mower. The mower stopped its whine and he heard the squeaking of the wheels coming closer. "I'm all done with the backyard." Brian came to the porch and sat on the chair beside Dan. Brian's t-shirt was already slung over his shoulder with just gym shorts and tennis shoes to cover what they could. West Texas heats up fast and the backyard was in full morning sun. Brian slid back in the chair with his butt on the edge of the seat. It swallowed him. His long legs reached out wide and his back bent into the curve of the seat. Dan was sure Brian could sleep in that position quite happily. "How about some steak and eggs, what you always call a breakfast beer, Dan?", Brian asked, since he always pushed the limits. He knew Dan all his eighteen years. After two or three cups of coffee on a weekend morning, Dan would be having a beer. Living across the street meant no secrets for a kid. An adult wouldn't be so informed. Youth means sneaking out at night and satisfying your curiosity. Dan didn't know it, but there was very little Brian didn't know about his life. Peaks through the windows had revealed enough. At eighteen sexual concepts are developing. There is no right or wrong, just desire. At least he'd never discussed what he knew. It was a private secret for Brian alone. "All right, kid, go get us both one, but pour yours in a cup." Brian came back fast and resumed his comfortable position. His beer was poured in one of those big cups that say soup on the side of the cup. Dan's body was firm and tight. His tan was head to toe except for what was covered by his shorts. After Brian's late night visits to Dan's window, curiosity had its effect. There was a slightly growing bulge in Brian's gym shorts. Of course Dan noticed. The boy was all arms and legs and barely covered by his shorts. They rode tight. Brian needed to go up a size; he had grown too fast to stay in his clothes. "I'll leave you two more in the fridge. Here's your spending money. Lock my door when you're done. I have an appointment with that big bass over at the lake." Brian nodded in agreement. Brian hadn't noticed his own bulge growing inside his shorts. It was a signal for Dan to leave. Brian could do as he pleased with friends his own age, but not with an adult. Dan gathered his tackle and cooler placing them into the bed of the truck as was normal. He always forgot something. He walked around the house thinking of what he might need. Nothing came to mind. As he came out the door, the mower started again with Brian beginning the front yard. "Don't mow down those damn flowers on the side, Brian." Brian nodded, but Dan was sure he hadn't heard a word, just noise and moving lips. What the hell, if the grasshoppers don't eat them they'll grow back anyway. The truck hesitated and took three times to start. He knew something needed to be replaced, but not today. He drove to Tim's all the way across town, a whole ten blocks. Tim didn't need to mow. He didn't have any grass. Bare dirt with a few wilted crepe myrtles was his whole front yard. You could sweep it. Even weeds need water to grow. His backyard was completely barren except for one giant cottonwood tree older than the town. Under its shade Tim had a picnic table and a space to barbeque. There was a gas grill and a brick-lined pit for the traditional-style long, slow cooking a whole goat required. Dan walked around to the bedroom window, not stopping at the front door. The window was open. Inside laid Tim buck naked on top of the covers, ass up. He always slept on his belly even though Dan constantly reminded him it was bad for his back. Dan banged two or three times on the window frame. Tim didn't stir. Finally Dan yelled, "Hey, Tim wake your lazy ass up." Slowly Tim rolled over showing a piss hard-on and said the front door was open and "What the hell time is it anyway?" Tim pulled on some cutoffs and was recycling last night's beer as Dan came in. "What's up man?" he yelled above the sound coming from the splashing noise as the stream found its way into the water. He buttoned all the buttons and staggered to the front of the house. Dan was pouring water into the coffee maker as he came in. A beer was beside Dan on the cabinet. "Fuck the coffee, give me a damn beer," said Tim as he saw what was happening. Dan never had time to flip the switch. "It's ready to go when you want some," but Dan knew that wouldn't be until about six Monday morning before Tim went to work. The fridge was empty except for a jar of mustard. He kept telling Tim mustard was fine in the cabinet. "You don't need to clean this thing much, do you Tim." He went to his cooler in the pickup bed and got Tim a beer. Tim was rubbing both eyes with his fists as Dan returned. He yawned a couple of times and reached for the can Dan had set in front of him. With two deep swigs he crumpled the can in his hand. "If you drink all night, why do you wake up thirsty and needing to piss?" Dan asked. Tim shook his head like he usually did to get the cobwebs out of his brain, as he called it. It was just a weird habit. About all it did was get some blood circulating and relieve the stiffness in his neck from sleeping on his belly. Tim's neck popped several times loud enough for Dan to hear the crack of the bones. "Are you just checking to see who's in my bed this time? I'm alone as usual. Want to give me a good morning blowjob?" He had his hand on Dan's shoulder and a wicked grin on his face. Tim had grown up with Dan and couldn't remember not knowing him. He moved his hand down and petted the fur on Dan's chest, making little circles with his fingers on the firm pecs. He loved Dan right down to his soul, but the reality remained that they were both men. Sometimes Tim knew he took Dan for granted and felt the guilt. Redheaded freckled kids get picked on, but Dan usually went home with the bloody nose for coming to Tim's rescue. Though they were both about the same size, in many ways Dan was still Tim's protector. Dan scooted out a chair and sat down, breaking their contact. "Naw, Tim. I'd be happy to buy you a goat if it would help your sex life. I just came to get you to go fishing with me." They always fished together, but never together. Dan would be in one place and Tim in eyeshot, but some distance away. "If a man's butt wasn't so damn ugly to see when I wake up, I'd have you in my bed every night. I'll take a goat anyway and barbeque it." Tim was waking up now. His sense of humor was his best feature. His red hair was flying in every direction and his grin was irresistible. Dan broke out with a belly laugh about the goat. "Anything you can't fuck, you'll eat, huh?" Tim was likely to do both. Tim rose, walked over and sat straddling Dan on his lap. He reached his arm around Dan's neck and pulled him close. Then he whispered in his ear softly, "You know I love you, brother, let's go fishing." Dan's laughter was over the top. Any Saturday that began with this much humor was going to be fun. Bob didn't begin his morning with any humor. He headed out to the barn as usual to check on the livestock. Snow was on his heels until Bob passed through the big doors and then was nowhere in sight. Then came the barking, then came the tears, but Bob cried silently as he made the necessary phone calls and ended with a call to Maria. There was no one else to call. Martin had never had a phone put in or used the ranch phone either. to be continued