Date: Mon, 28 Mar 2005 07:16:06 -0500 From: carl5de@netscape.net Subject: HIGH PLAINS DOCTOR - 4 HIGH PLAINS DOCTOR - 4 Copyright 2005 by Carl Mason and Ed Collins All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the authors. However based on real events and places, "High Plains Doctor" is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually. If you would like to read other Mason-Collins stories, you might turn to "Out of the Rubble," "Castle Margarethen," and "The Priest and the Pauper" which are archived in Nifty's "Historical" section. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the authors at carl5de@netscape.net This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults and teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, remember that maturity generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity! CHAPTER 4 (Revisiting Chapter 3) When Ben arrived at the Post to pick up his wards, Sam commented that Barry, Kyle, Jon, and Kelly had essentially become brothers. The next age group of troopers, i.e., those in their early 20s, were treating the four of them as if they were the younger brothers they had left at home. Several of the older men appeared to regard the four of them as young sons. The point is that it had been a very emotional day - and the Post troopers were a happier bunch tonight than they had been in many months. Sam also gave Ben a bottle of really nasty looking liniment that, he said, he kept for occasions such as this. "Before the night is out," he laughed, "you're likely to need it!" The three of them returned home, most of their defenses down, their relationship ready to move on to the next step. (Continuing Our Story - Aches and Pains) Sam Culpepper was right about the need for liniment! Supper wasn't over before the boys began stiffening up and emitting pitiful moans and groans. They even refused dessert - and that meant something really serious was afoot! Had Ben not remembered his first time on a horse, he would have broken up when they stiffly helped each other to stand and stagger back towards their room. Ben was reading the latest copy of his medical journal when the wails began, perhaps half an hour later. "DOC! DOC! WE NEED YOU, DOC!" "Damn! I should have chosen three or four more while I was on that damned Train," Ben muttered as he put his journal on the table and headed back towards the sounds of pain. Once he saw their faces, of course, he immediately ceased being the "harried foster newbie" and smoothly morphed into the "doctor." "Ok, guys, Captain Culpepper said that you'd had a pretty strenuous workout and sent something along that he thought might help. Let's go downstairs to our workroom. Ben not only had to help the kids up off their bunks, but he just about had to carry them down the stairs. "Get rid of the clothes and I'll see what I can do to make some of the pain go away." The lads were in such discomfort that they even forgot they were teenagers and welcomed his help in stripping! "Twice in the same day I get to see more beauty than I saw in all the museums of Europe!" Ben chortled to himself. "So...who's first?" "Kell, may I please go first? I'll owe you one," Jon groaned. Ben helped the hunky 16 year-old to climb onto his examination table and grabbed the liniment bottle. Removing the stopper, he paused for a moment...as one of the most nauseating stenches he had ever smelled seemed to fill the room. Raising his head slightly from the table, Jon exclaimed, "What in hell is that, Da? It smells even worse than the sewer we used to sleep in at Five Points!" Ben looked over at Kelly whose face had taken on a most unappetizing shade of green. "There's no help for it, my boy. Now we know why it's called 'horse liniment'!" As far as Ben was concerned, that unbelievably vile liquid had only one advantage. It took the kids' minds off the pain in their muscles. Needless to say, they bitched all the way, even getting a little testy towards the end of the vigorous rubdown. "Don't get that stuff ANYWHERE NEAR my balls!" Jon had growled. Kelly muttered that he now knew how his rotting corpse would smell. For all of that, the liniment (and/or the rubdown) did relieve the worst of the aches and pains. When Ben had wiped the excess from their bodies, he helped them upstairs, tucked them into their bunks, and wearily returned to his journal. It must have been midnight or, maybe, even one o'clock when Ben, who had just dozed off, heard a scratching on his bedroom door. "Yes?" he asked quietly. The door opened slightly to reveal a still naked Kelly. "Yes, Kell?" he murmured. The boy took a few steps closer...stiffly, painfully. "Da..." he began. "Da, I'm SO sore. It's back again. I don't think there's a muscle in my body that isn't killing me. I'm sorry to bother you, but is there any way that you could make some of the pain stop again?" Ben raised the sheet from his body, saying, "Come on over here, youngster." As he settled in next to Ben, Kelly let out a loud groan. "Shush, Big Guy. You left the door open; don't wake your brother." "Yes, Da," Kelly whispered. "On your stomach...," Ben commanded, throwing the sheet back. Slowly, skillfully, he began to massage some of the knots out of the boy's triceps, neck, back, butt, and the rear of his thighs and calves. Kelly was behaving, but he was beginning to have a real problem with his own feelings. He WASN'T a predator, damn it! Charles, his manservant in Boston, had been...different. His other encounters had all been with men. The fact remained that he loved Kelly - and, to a great extent, Jon - as he had loved no others in his life and longed to show them everything that he felt. Then, too, his passions were rising. "Ready to turn over, monster?" he joked. The boy turned over, a bit more easily than he had gotten into the bed. At that moment, the moon came out from behind clouds and softly illuminated the room. The lad's body - no, Kelly himself...every aspect of him - was breathtaking. Not quite trusting himself, he began by working the boy's heavy biceps and forearms. "Oh, God, yes, Da! I thought my arms were going to fall off before I got down off that damned...female horse!" "Shush, my son," Ben whispered. "Just lie back and relax." As he went to massage the front of the youth's heavy neck, he noticed that the moonlight was glinting off tears on his cheeks. "Am I doing something that makes you uncomfortable?" he whispered. By way of answer, the boy lifted his torso slightly and kissed him. "You just called me your 'son,' Kelly stated with utter simplicity. Did you mean it?" The young doctor's body shuddered as he said, "Yes, Kelly, I did." A couple of soft sobs escaped from the youngster's lips before he regained control. "Then I'm going to ask you to do three things for me...because I am your son and you are the father I love. "Ask away...son," Ben whispered, on the verge of tears. "First," Kelly growled playfully - completely changing the mood of the moment - "PLEASE finish up and stop the pain! I'm dying!" Chuckling, Ben proceeded to obey a command that for him was anything but painful! His skilled fingers dug deep into Kelly's pecs, into his stomach, and into his lower torso. Avoiding his dripping, rock-hard shaft, he moved to his thighs and calves, working the muscles until he feared that he might do some damage and let up. "No! No! Da, that feels wonderful! Keep going!" By the time Ben eventually reached the boy's ankles and feet, Kelly was almost purring. He stopped and awaited the second command. The beautiful teen suddenly seemed to become uncomfortable, even shy. "What is it, Kelly? What's wrong?" "It's just that it's so silly, Da. I feel stupid even asking." "I shall never consider anything you say to me tonight - or for the rest of our lives - to be 'stupid,' son. What do you want me to do?" "Da, it's just that I wish I were about six years younger, and I know that's not possible." "Why would you like to be eight, Kell?" "No one has ever held me in his arms and just loved me. You know...no sex...just...love," the lad responded. "You don't have to be eight years old to get that from me, my boy," Ben murmured. With that, he blew lightly on the boy's hair and kissed the brown curls that seemed almost auburn in the moonlight. Slowly, as a mother might, he kissed his son's cheek before turning on his side, putting his arm under the youth's heavy torso, and simply drawing him into his chest. Lightly, he stroked the lad's back, his hair, feeling his love envelop him, feeling his son's tears wetting his shoulder and trickling down his back. Abruptly, Kelly sniffled and whispered, "Thanks, Dad. Kyle told me that 'Dad' is the American word. May I use it?" "Yep," Ben replied, tightly holding onto his emotions, "and your third wish?" "My last wish is another dream, Dad. Since I first saw you on the Train, I've dreamt that you would love me as I love you. I want you to love me in every way." The young lad was crying as he choked out, "I want to be yours." Ben hesitated, but the time was long past for holding back the feelings that seethed within him. Beginning with his lips, the doctor kissed his way down his son's body until he reached the shaft which by then was reddened, swollen beyond belief, throbbing with the beat of his heart, and wet with precum. As his tongue swirled around the head, the tip digging into the opened slit, a wild cry forced its way through Kelly's clenched teeth. "Dad," he gasped, "please come into me. I want to feel every part of you." As the lad raised his legs and held them widespread, Ben lathed his perineum and moved towards an anus that was already wide open. "Is my saliva going to be enough?" he breathed. "No problem, Dad, I found some lard out in the kitchen. There's plenty for both of us." Snickering just a bit to himself - for, not long before, the lad had been so stiff and sore that he couldn't move - Ben extracted a bit of the lard that Kelly had used to generously lubricate himself and slicked his rigid pole. Gently pressing into the boy, Ben entered upon one of the most vivid sexual experiences of his life. Yes, it had been good with Charles; it had even been good with some of the men he had encountered. Nothing, however, had ever BEGUN to approach the velvet love in which his Kelly encased him. His kisses, his writhing, his murmured words of adoration, his gasps of passion kept the young doctor in a state of absolute delirium. As Ben kissed strands of soggy brown hair from the boy's forehead while they relaxed following monumental orgasms, Kelly looked up at him and murmured, "I'll love you to the day I die, Dad." Jon quickly moved through the shadows that had concealed him as he watched Kelly and Ben and silently reentered the brothers' bedroom. "Damn it all anyway, Kelly! Why do you always get there first?" (Morning Follows the Night) Ben awoke to the smell of coffee. Seconds later, two fully dressed, smiling teenagers burst into his room, carrying a tray and a host of breakfast extras. As Kelly fluffed his pillows, Jon set the tray carefully down over Ben and began pouring his morning coffee. "I hope I made the coffee ok......Dad," he exclaimed with a wide grin. "At this hour, hot dishwater will do," Ben mumbled and gratefully sipped a cup of very good, and very hot, coffee. As he lit into the plate of eggs easy over, hash browns, and bacon," the boys stood by proudly. When he had wiped his mouth on the white linen napkin and grinned his appreciation, Kelly lifted the tray from the bed, saying, "We'll take care of this stuff, Dad." As they turned to return to the kitchen, Ben stopped them, told Kelly to put the tray down on the table, and then motioned for both boys to come closer. As they crawled up onto the bed, he finally managed to position Jon's head on one of his shoulders and Kelly's on the other. For several minutes he simply held them, first kissing one and then the other. Then, despicable villain that he was, he attacked them cruelly, not stopping until the tickling machine had reduced each of the boys to a giggling mess. "I trust that both my sons are now ready for a busy day," he remarked calmly. Later that morning, Ben's two assistants stood by one of the cabinets during a break between patients, examining a strange instrument. "Got any idea what it is?" Kelly asked. "Nah," Jon answered, "that's really weird." Kelly hefted the instrument, its polished shaft fitted into a beautifully carved ebony handle. On the end there were two oval blades, very sharp and open in the middle. A lever on the shaft allowed one blade to be drawn across the other. As Ben entered the workroom, Jon told him that they were really stumped. "Well, gentlemen, do you know what a 'guillotine' is?" "Yeah," Kelly responded, "they used guillotines to cut off people's heads, didn't they?" "Good, Kelly, but this is too small to use on even the head of a field mouse. Got any idea about its possible use? No? Take a look at this chart. The tonsils are glands located on both sides of the back of the mouth. See...here and here. We're not sure exactly what they do. The best rule is not to remove anything from the body unless it causes problems for the patient. Occasionally, however, the tonsils become infected and swell. The patient may commonly have sore throats and even have trouble swallowing. Then it may be time to use this little instrument and remove them." "Wow," said Jon, "remind me not to get a sore throat!" Grinning at his eager medical students, Ben asked them if they were going to have a second horsemanship lesson at the Post later in the day. Their enthusiasm left no doubt as to their answer. "Are you willing to put up with more of the agony you suffered last night?" Ben asked. After glancing at his brother with an especially guilty look, Jon admitted to Ben that much of the fault had been his. "Barry wanted to stop twice and Kell was really hurting the second time. I selfishly talked Barry into continuing. That's one stupid mistake I won't make again. I'm really sorry, Kell - and, Dad, I'm just as sorry for all I put you through." "Don't take all of the blame, Jon," Kelly interjected. "You didn't see me getting down off that damned nag!" "Ok," Ben said. "If you don't stretch yourselves too far, chances are that it's better for you to continue today than tomorrow. Barry said he'd be free around 2:00 p.m. Until then, we have work to do." Arriving at the Post shortly before two o'clock, Ben stood talking with Sam Culpepper for a moment. Obviously, his two boys were taking a real razzing from Barry and Kyle. "I could have stopped them," Sam admitted, "but you know, Ben. At some point, teens just have to learn from their errors. One just hopes that the results aren't fatal." Grinning wickedly at his friend, Ben growled that last night had come close! "Well," Sam continued with an understanding smirk, "they're going to spend most of their time today learning the right way to saddle and bridle a horse. Their ride will continue to focus on improving their seat and their position on the horse. It'll be shorter and a hell of a lot less strenuous than yesterday. Tonight will be a little easier...on you," he grinned nastily. Thinking that LAST night "had its moments," Ben contented himself with asking if Jon and Kelly were in any way interfering with his operation. "Nope," Sam replied. "At this point, we're way ahead in the benefits contest." "Ok, Sam, I'm off," Ben murmured. "As soon as I've seen the Blackwells and the Shannons out in the Rijo Valley," I'll be back to pick up my crew." With a wave, he was on his way. The lesson went well. While Sam hadn't mentioned it to Ben, he had instructed his First Sergeant to talk with Barry the night before about the need to exert a little tighter control over "greenhorns." It was part of the young trooper's training as he prepared to become an NCO. As a result, today's lesson had pushed the boys without allowing them to get in trouble. When Ben picked them up, they were in fine spirits. Jon spoke privately with Ben for a moment, asking if Kelly and he might invite Barry and Kyle over to the house for dinner. Given permission, the boys immediately huddled with their instructors and, by now, good friends. Loud whoops and shoulder and back pounding that would have permanently disabled an adult suggested that the invitation had been enthusiastically received. Several nights later, two handsome young troopers dressed in their best uniforms and thoroughly slicked up knocked on the outside door of the apartment. Well drilled, they ceremoniously presented Ben with a small leather case that held a collection of Indian arrowheads. The golden-haired Kyle smirked at the boys and apologized for not bringing them some flowers! Fearing that a major riot might break out, Ben was relieved when his pair merely collared their guests and dragged them back towards their bedroom - stopping on the way, of course, to demonstrate the glories of indoor plumbing! (Sam told Ben later that his young troopers had been unable to stop taking about the bathroom fixtures for some days after their visit!) After hours of preparation by Ben and Kelly that had even involved Jon, the dinner was as excellent as the conversation. Barry and Kyle praised the boys' developing horsemanship and predicted that it wouldn't be long before they could take part in a trail ride. Maybe, they could even ride up as far as Scott's Bluffs on the North Platte near the Wyoming line. The area was filled with the history of the California Gold Rush as well as freight traffic over Mitchell Pass, the Pony Express, and the transcontinental telegraph. "Yeah," added Kyle. "We might even meet William Henry Jackson, the great Western photographer!" "I know Jackson's work," Ben commented. "That WOULD be worthwhile!" Fittingly, it ended when Barry leaned back in his chair, ostentatiously let his belt out another notch, and refused a third slice of apple pie a la mode made by Max at the Crystal Palace. Groaning in mock agony, he commented that if the Army ever served such chow, they wouldn't have to force the Indians onto reservations. It would be enough simply to let them smell the food! After the boys had insisted on taking care of the dishes, everyone gathered in the front parlor where each person present had to tell a story. When that game was completed, Kyle volunteered to play the piano. Jon and Kelly had never experienced such an evening. True, they didn't know the songs, but Ben and their guests were patient and before the evening was over, they were singing along with the others. When the young soldiers left, there was sadness all around, as well as the promise of future invitations. (The White Man's Disease) "Bear-Who-Walks-Upright is in the office and would like to speak with you, Dad," Kelly announced as he found Ben back in the workroom, refilling some of the glass bottles. "Fine, Kell," the doctor replied. "Please tell him that I'll be right there." "You're having a marked effect on my younger assistant," Doctor Cabot said pleasantly to the old Indian as he entered the office. The other night, the boys invited a couple of their friends over for dinner. Kelly told a story of your youth when you went on the buffalo hunt and encountered thousands of the beasts. Given the slaughter, it's hard to imagine today that the sun would have been dimmed by the dust kicked up by the herd." "He's a fine boy, Doctor, a boy who would have worn many feathers in his hair as a warrior," Bear-Who-Walks-Upright responded politely. "Unfortunately, I come today with bad news." Ben noticed his completely atypical directness and surmised that the news was very serious indeed. As was his wont, Bear-Who-Walks-Upright told the impatient American trio another story. Many moons ago, the traditional hunting grounds of his people covered much of the land where Nebraska, Colorado, and Wyoming come together. History had not been kind to them. Gradually, their braves had fallen to the Pawnee, Lakota (Sioux), Cheyenne, and Arapaho. Today, all that was left was a good-sized band that lived some distance towards the setting sun. Now too small and weak to tempt their fellow Indian oppressors who were increasingly occupied with each other and the whites, they tried to live at peace with the increasing stream of settlers. Trade with wagon trains headed west, minor farming, and killing an occasional buffalo allowed them to eke out a minimal livelihood. Though it was difficult for Ben to translate the old Indian's words into American time units, it seems that his people had contact with a wagon train perhaps six weeks ago, a wagon train that had several sick children. Today, there is great sickness in his village. People have spots like evil spirits. An older brave and his squaw died when they stopped breathing. Big fever, sweating, craziness... Could his friend cure this "white man's disease"? A deep frown on his handsome face, Dr. Ben went to a bin in his library wall and removed three rolled charts. Spreading one in front of the old Indian, he asked if the spots pictured were like the ones on the bodies of his people. No, most of them weren't that red; they were more like...skin with water underneath. "Ha!" exclaimed Ben and unrolled the second chart. "And these?" "Yes," exclaimed Bear-Who-Walks-Upright, "though the marks on many of my people look much more angry." "Jon, Kelly, come over here!" Ben commanded. "Have you guys had Chickenpox?" Jon only took a brief look at the chart before he said that both of them had it... about four years ago. "I just about scratched the skin off my chest," he admitted, "and I had to wrap rags around Kelly's hands to keep him from taking his skin off! I pulled him through," he added proudly. Kelly spoke up, saying that they wanted to go with their father to help Bear's people. "We'll take a chance on getting it again," he said with a determined look on his face. "No problem there, Kell. Once you've had Chickenpox, it seems that most people can't get it again. The problem is with people who have never been exposed to the disease. It's not the worst of the 'White Man's Diseases', but really bad things can happen without care. Well...what would I do without my two assistants along? You can come. Get the wagon ready and arrange for a second horse. I'll gather food and medical supplies. We'll leave after lunch. Will you guide us, Bear-Who-Walks-Upright?" "It will be an honor, my friends," the old Indian replied. The boys were really curious when Ben drove the team around to the "feed" section at the back of the Emporium, purchased a full sack of oats, and had the miller grind the oats to a fairly fine consistency. "Are there that many horses to take care of?" Kelly asked. "Not that I know of," his dad responded, "but oat mush helps control the itching." "Wish I'd known that," Jon mumbled. "I'd have asked a dray horse to share some of his oats!" Ben playfully whacked him on the side of the head as they moved along at a good pace, Bear-Who-Walks-Upright leading the way on his pony. For two long days, the party headed west by southwest. The land was dry and rough and bluffs were seen on every side. They were definitely on the high plains, the "white world" seemingly left far behind. Well into the third day, directed by their guide, they entered a small valley that they would otherwise have surely missed. The scene that met their eyes was anything but promising. There were few children about and fewer signs of life. Even the Indian dogs seemed dispirited. Many tepees were simply deserted, their flaps open. >From others, sounds of wailing were heard, occasionally punctuated by barking coughs. A naked old woman suddenly broke from one tepee only to run aimlessly from tent to tent, screaming in fear and confusion. Bear-Who-Walks-Upright's pony stopped by a large tepee. His face grim and taut with tension, Ben pulled the wagon up nearby. "Boys," he commanded quietly in his most serious voice, "you will stick close to me while we are here. We don't know how friendly the People will be; there is sickness here that is far more dangerous than Chickenpox. Touch nothing without washing your hands as quickly as possible. I'll give you something to wear over your noses. Try to keep your hands away from your lips. I love you. My life would end if I lost you. Do you understand?" "Yes, Dad," Jon and Kelly responded as one. Bidding his friends to wait, the old Indian entered the tepee. Several minutes later, he returned, gesturing for the doctor and the boys to join him. Scared, but wide-eyed with excitement, the boys looked at each other as they bent down and followed the adults inside. This was real - the Wild West that they had heard about back home in the alleys of Lower Manhattan! Four Indians, one quite old, one middle-aged, and two braves in their prime were seated around a small fire. They noticed immediately that Bear-Who-Walks-Upright was treated with immense respect - no less respect than the older man, "Ten Wolves", who was introduced to them as the Chief, or the middle-aged Indian, "Snow Bird", who was evidently a religious leader or medicine man. (Their guide's translation was not all that easy to follow.) The braves were "Many Horses" and "Kills Sioux" - or something like that. After introducing Dr. Cabot, Bear introduced Jon and Kelly as his sons and assistants. Both boys stood tall, nearly dying with pride. Given leave to speak, Snow Bird rose and faced their guests. "Our brother, Bear-Who-Walks- Upright, tells us that you are good people and that you have powerful medicine. Many have died; others are sick...inside," he said, pointing to his chest; "others tear their skin...some until their bones show. We welcome your help and will do everything possible to assist you." Wasting no time, Ben asked that each of them be assigned a young teen as an assistant and that the sick be divided into three groups - those "sick...inside" (i.e., those he suspected had developed pneumonia), the babies and very young who had spots, and the spotted others. If each group couldn't fit in one tepee, they should be divided into tepees that were close together. At the wagon, he gave each boy a mask for his nose, a supply of the finely ground oats, several towels, a small glass bottle that held a colorless liquid (a couple of drops of which were to be added to each basin of hot water), and a bar of soap. When the teen assistants joined them, he found that Kelly's assistant, "Running Deer," spoke broken but reasonably adequate English. Ben had him tell the others that they would be responsible for bringing and replenishing basins of hot water, finding containers to make the oat mush, locating clean blankets and rags, and having all used towels and rags washed in hot, boiling water. Finally, he told Jon and Kelly to clean their patients, make them as comfortable as possible, and cover their blisters with a thin coating of oat mush. If that didn't stop them from scratching, they were to wrap their hands in clean rags. Those who appeared to be developing something worse than Chickenpox were to be reported to him...quickly. "Remember, boys, let your patients know you like them, show them respect, and don't get bossy. We're here for them, not the other way around! Ready to go?" "Yes, sir!" they shouted. When Running Deer translated, the 13 and 14 year-old Indian teens shouted something in their own language and grinned proudly. The "field hospital" operated for nearly two weeks. Kelly had two tents, but he also had an assistant who could speak some English - and who was both intelligent and markedly cooperative. He also liked the young ones who reacted as positively to him as to Kelly. Sleep became something that just happened when the body could go on no longer and one's eyelids closed for a few minutes. Food became something that was forced into one's mouth, chewed, and swallowed without tasting. (Perhaps that we just as well, for after the meat that was on hand ran out, they ate dog on at last three occasions. Though he said nothing to Kelly, Running Deer looked at a long, thin, hairless tail that turned up in one of his meals with grave suspicion!) Nevertheless, they brought the epidemic to a halt. During the second week, for instance, not one of Jon or Kelly's patients had to be referred to Ben. The good doctor's problems, of course, were more serious. He lost patients, especially during the first week. Other than keeping the others warm, clean, and hydrated, there was so little that he could do other than pray that their weakened bodies would strengthen with rest and measured nutrition and throw off the sickness. In all this, Snow Bird and Bear-Who-Walks-Upright were pillars of strength. What had to be arranged in their village was arranged. Several great pots of boiling water were bubbling constantly, for instance, to wash used towels and cloths. Special broths requested by Ben for recovering patients took precedence over all other cooking. Occasionally, one or the other leader came into a hospital tepee and commanded an Indian who was determined to leave to stay and get well. Towards the end of the second week, they finally came to Ben, thanked him profusely for his and his sons' assistance, told him that they were now, and would always be, brothers, and said that the members of their band could now care for the increasingly small number of patients. On the final afternoon, Ben, Jon, and Kelly left their hospital tepees and stumbled into the sunlight. It had been some time. "Want to go up on that bluff and simply relax and talk for a bit?" Ben mumbled to the boys. "Dad, if you and Jon will forgive me, I need to speak with Running Deer. He has some things he wants to tell me, and he wants me to meet his parents." "No problem, son," Ben responded. As Kelly raced off, Ben and Jon climbed the bluff overlooking the village and settled down. "I never thought I would be as happy - or as tired - as I am at this minute, Dad," Jon mumbled, grinning at his panting father. "You can't believe what life was like in Five Points," he continued, "no hope, living like rats in the sewers, hated by everybody. I never had a father, you know. I was told that some floozie - not even my mother - just dumped me at the orphanage door along with Kelly who was only a few days old. Even though he's a pain in the ass at times, he's really the only reason I've kept on trying. Otherwise, I would have jumped off a pier into the East River like a lot of my friends did. Do you have any idea at all how much I love you?" "Come over here," Ben commanded gruffly. When the handsome, sandy-haired 16 year-old slid over, he reached out his arm and drew him even closer. Bending his face down, he nibbled on the top of the nearest ear. "Only a few years ago," he murmured, "a wonderful English poetess wrote, 'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.' If I started counting, Jon, we'd never get back to Shiloh!" "But, Dad, do you REALLY love me - like you love Kelly?" Knowing now that which he had only suspected earlier, namely, that Jon had indeed watched from the shadows the other night, Ben gave the only answer that he could give...the only answer that was true. "Yes, Jon, I love you just the way I love Kelly...just the way YOU love Kelly. You are my reason for living. If I lost you, I wouldn't want to go on." Letting his breath out in one great gasp, the boy lifted up and kissed Ben passionately, breaking the kiss only when forced to by lack of oxygen. "I never let myself believe that anyone could love me that way, Dad." Ben looked down to see a tremendous bulge in the young man's pants. Slowly, he unbuttoned Jon's shirt, repeatedly kissed his chest, and nibbled on a nub. As the lad's breath almost whined in agony, he unfastened his belt and slowly undid the fly buttons. Reaching down into the opening, he freed the boy's cock which then rose hard and straight as an arrow. "Do you need all those clothes?" Ben asked gently. Jon was out of them almost before Ben could begin to remove his. When he went to continue undressing, the boy yelled, "No! That's my job, Dad!" With that, he slowly undressed his hero, the man who had lifted him out of Hell itself, kissing, licking, and nibbling incessantly. Both men were on fire. There was nothing gentle about their lovemaking that day. On top of the bluff, two naked muscular figures outlined against a High Plains sky twisted and wrestled in the sunlight. Hard bodies came together with audible impact, lips ground against each other, rock-hard cocks fought for supremacy, large, powerful hands clutched and squeezed without mercy. Finally, they took each other - and it was good. Afterwards, they climbed down the bluff, their arms around each other's waist, Jon's head occasionally rolling over onto Ben's chest. When they reached their tepee, the flap was closed. "You in there, Kelly?" Ben asked. "Yep, just give me a minute, guys." (Pause.) "Ok, you can come in now." A young Indian lad dressed in ceremonial regalia met their eyes - a relatively narrow breechclout with an eagle in red beads decorating the front panel, a heavy grizzly bear- claw necklace, a handsome breastplate that hung around his neck and down his chest - the panels of small, matched buffalo bones strung together with colorful beads, a furred bracelet, and ornamented moccasins. "Do you know who Running Deer's father is?" Kelly gasped breathlessly. When both Ben and Jon shook their heads, he burst out, "Snow Bird!" "They adopted him! And, guys, Running Deer is GAY, but his tribe doesn't treat him like a girl. Unlike some tribes, it's ok with everybody! Only one thing," he babbled on, "getting the clothing was kinda...embarrassing. In this tribe, the mother dresses her son for important ceremonies. I don't have a mother, so Running Deer's mother had to do it. Maybe that's ok for 8 year-olds, but... Oh, man!" Remembering the breechclout, the first article to be put on his naked body, he came to a dead stop, a truly red man! Suddenly, a young voice, the voice of Running Deer, called, "Jon, are you inside? You have visitors!" Poking his head outside the tepee, Jon saw Little Wolf, his teenaged assistant, together with two adults whom Running Deer identified as the boy's father and mother. His mother carried an armful of clothing. "Um-m, guys," Jon mumbled, turning to Ben and Kelly in growing embarrassment. "Get lost for a little while, ok?" When they returned, the Indians had left. Jon was spectacular! His clothing was quite similar to Kelly's, though the accent color was yellow rather than red. "Oh, yeah," he said, recovering quickly. "We've got to wear this stuff to the ceremony tonight." With that, Kelly and he looked at each other and spontaneously broke into their version of an Indian dance around the tepee floor - complete, of course, with blood curdling yells and chants that, to Ben's ear, sounded far more like something out of Lower Manhattan than something indigenous to the High Plains. At the ceremony that night around a great fire, Ben, Jon, and Kelly were inducted into the tribe. Along with their assistants, each was given an eagle feather to wear in his hair. They were also given their tribal names - for Ben, "Medicine Friend"; for Jon, "Man-with-Sand-in-Hair"; and for Kelly, "Red Eagle." At the close of the ceremony, Ben's teenaged assistant, Sharp Knife, came forward. Embarrassed, he presented Ben with an object wrapped in rich furs, saying (as translated by Running Deer) that this prized possession of the People was their gift to Medicine Friend. After the wonderful band of true human beings had danced for long hours in the flaring light and shadows of the fire, the men and boys teaching Jon and Kelly the steps, their departure the next morning was anticlimactic. In truth, they were still walking on air, and the long trip back to Shiloh seemed to pass as if it were but across Main Street. (To Be Continued)